[Musing] The Pillar of Glory

[pre-story]Another musing! So, odd origin story for this idea. I was having a discussion about what sort of materials a fantasy sex toy would be made of, and then somebody mentioned dragon bone, and then I made a pun, and then I started to really think about it and ideas started forming... So, I have three fantasy sex toy ideas to write about now, and this is the first.
On the actual execution of the idea... I'm not proud of this one, I admit. Mistakes were made. If I hadn't fallen so in love with the idea of starting with the dance, I probably could have started with her being led down into the pyramid and finished this thing in one part. But then I got here, and I'm already behind schedule and adding a sex scene would be another thousand words at least and rewriting it would take even longer... I am definitely going to learn from this in the future, but for now, have part one.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]

Papan bit her lip nervously as the stood at the foot of the towering staircase leading up to the peak of the tiered pyramid of Xochikama, fingers gripping tight at the edges of the shroud draped over her shoulders, holding it tightly closed. The fabric was itchy on her skin, and she was soaked in sweat, but it was the only thing shielding her body from the gaze of the gathered crowd. Elder Sister Nenetl laid a hand on her shroud-covered shoulder, and she jolted, head whipping around to look. The elder sister smiled, reassuringly. “Remember, you aren’t performing for them. You’re performing for HIM.” She reminded, looking toward the peak of the pyramid.

Papan smiled back, weakly. “Thank you, elder sister…” she replied, then turned her gaze to the chamber at the peak of the pyramid once more. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “I- I’m ready.” She declared.



Nenetl wordlessly nodded to the nearby drummers, and they began to beat at the stretched hides of their drums, filling the air with deep, powerful booms, a pounding, primal rhythm that made Papan’s heat beat with it. Her hands relaxed, letting go of the shroud, and Elder Sister Nenetl took it, stepping away to leave the younger aspirant naked for all to see. Papan was truly a beautiful girl, wing long, flowing, wavy dark hair. Perhaps once she had been an awkward, gangly, girl, but now her long limbs were graceful and supple, her stomach smooth and toned. The only clothing she wore were bands of colorful flowers hanging around her wrists, ankles, and neck, leaving her warm tan skin, smooth and nearly flawless, to glow with a sheen of sweat in the light of the sun. Her breasts were delightfully firm and perky as only a young woman’s could be, each supple mound more than a handful, and crowned with a dark nipple, firm buds that stiffened proudly beneath the crowd’s gaze. Her womanhood was exposed completely, her toned thighs leaving a gap between them so her slit was visible from every angle, her outer lips carefully shaved clean for this very moment.

Papan felt the crowd’s gaze on her skin, the heat of the sun’s rays beating down on her. She could feel the beat of the drums in her ears, in her head, in her heart. She closed her eyes, raised her arms, and let the beat take her. Some of the sisters sang. Some played instruments. Some wrote poetry. Papan, though… Papan danced. And dance she did, like she’d never danced before. The music took hold, and her long, graceful limbs responded, sweeping, spinning, leaping. Her supple, youthful body twisted, turned, bent and arched, over and over, every motion gracefully transitioning into another, each one a single note in a masterpeice, a symphony of the body. And as she danced, she began to climb, rising higher and higher, each step and turn lifting her another step higher along the pyramid’s stairs. The people watching oohed and aahed as she deftly balanced on the edges of steps, but they didn’t matter. She wasn’t dancing for them. She was dancing for the music, for the beauty she felt in her heart, for the presence of Xochikama.

Higher, higher, and higher still Papan climbed, ascending a step, dropping down two, then leaping up three, a slow, arduous climb, dancing her heart out with every beat. She reached the peak just as the sun reached its highest point, ending her performance with a dramatic flourish, holding the pose as her naked body glistened, soaked with sweat, her chest heaving. The crowd below roared with applause, but she could barely hear them, they seemed so distant (and, well, they were). Elder Sister Nenetl greeted her there at the mouth of the high chamber, the pinnacle of the grand pyramid, a smile on her lips as she spread her arms wide and announced to the world. “Sister Papan, I greet you as my equal! Your time as an initiate is over! Xochikama has seen the beauty of your performance, and I hereby welcome you fully into his service! Follow me into the sacred pyramid, where your ultimate blessing awaits!”

Papan nearly collapsed, releasing her pose and straightening up on trembling legs. Sister Nenetl gently took her by the hand, flashing her a warm smile before turning and leading the new priestess into the temple. Much quieter, the sister spoke again. “What you will see is a great secret of our order. Not even the king knows of it.” She explained. Inside the chamber was much darker than the exterior, and Papan’s eyes barely had time to adjust before Sister Nenetl began to lead her down a set of spiraling stone stairs. “As you know, in ancient times the world was barren. Mother earth longed for children, and upon seeing the sun, fell in love. But in those days, the sun was cold, emotionless, his eyes closed in meditation. In desperation, mother earth’s love became Xochikama, the first flower, and she sent him forth to open the sun’s eyes. But the sun did not wish to be disturbed, and when his eyes first opened, his furious glare destroyed Xochikama’s body. But the lord’s essence remained unharmed, as love cannot truly be destroyed. The beauty of the first flower spread through all of creation, infusing the cold sun with emotion, and filling the barren earth with flowers and plants of all sorts. Once the Sun’s eyes were opened, his heart filled with the essence of our lord, he looked upon the earth and all her newfound beauty and fell in love, and his cold light became warmth. From the union of the two, all the animals and peoples of the world were born.”

Sister Nenetl paused. “But there is one thing of our lord that survived the sun’s glare, the one part of his divine body the cold sun would not look at.” She explained, just as the walls of stone around the stairs opened up, and Papan found herself inside a chamber within the heart of the pyramid. There were a half-dozen priestesses in the room, all of them naked but for strings of flowers, much like Papan wore. One sang softly as she lounged on a mound of pillows, another stood in a corner painting something on a stretched hide, two of them laid together on a padded bed with their heads buried between each other’s thighs, and two more kneeled upon an altar covered in flowers, hands and tongues passionately worshipping an enormous pillar of gold. There was no mistaking what said pillar was. It was a cock. An enormous cock, at that, easily the size of her forearm, perhaps even larger, every ridge and contour of its gleaming golden length lovingly sculpted in imitation of life, so masterfully captured that the bulging veins even seemed to throb as she watched the priestesses lick and kiss and stroke its length.

“This... is the Pillar of Glory, the most prized artifact of the church. ” Sister Nenetl explained, a note of adoration in her voice as she did. “The divine shaft of our lord, Xochikama, the last remnant of his physical form. To serve our lord, to please and worship him so directly, is our most sacred duty and our greatest privilege.” She elaborated. Papan stared at her, shocked. Elder Sister Nenetl had been her mentor for years, and as she spoke of this shaft, her expression was one Papan had never seen. She looked like she was recalling some beautiful memory or a stirring piece of art, but there was also lust in her expression, desire.

“This is the final step in becoming a fully-fledged priestess of Xochikama, Sister Papan.” Sister Nenetl explained. “You have sworn the oaths, devoted your mind and soul to his service. Now, he asks that you offer your body, and once you have given yourself to him, you will experience the true depth of our lord’s love.” She continued.

Papan stared at the golden pillar of divine cock, her mind struggling to wrap around the reality before her. Xochikama was the god of love and beauty, and she’d always known that domain included sex, the church was always very open and accepting of sexuality, but she’d never expected something like this. Movement at the corner of her vision caught the fledgeling priestess’ eye, and she looked over just in time to see Sister Nenetl shrug her robe off her shoulders, the material falling away. Suddenly, Sister Nenetl, the ever-dignified priestess, her mentor, was completely naked.

Nenetl’s skin was a shade or two darker than Papan’s, and where Papan’s body was youthful, firm, and toned, Nenetl’s was mature, soft, and curvy. The elder priestess was almost twice Papan’s age, but she was unquestionably beautiful, in a refined, almost regal sort of way. Her breasts were almost twice the size of Papan’s, like ripe melons, crowned with wide, dark nipples, and though they had a bit of sag to them, they swayed and jiggled hypnotically with her every tiny movement. Her figure tapered down to an hourglass curve at the waist, then widened again around broad, rounded hips and a spectacular ass, before tapering down once more as it traced down her thick, juicy thighs continued down her legs. She reached up and back, her mountainous chest wobbling from the motion of her arms, and grabbed the tie holding her hair up in a bun. With a yank, she pulled it free, and a long mane of thick, dark, wavy hair came unbound, cascading down her back like a waterfall of ebony silk. Papan could only stare as her mentor transformed before her eyes. She’d never seen Sister Nenetl’s hair down, she’d never even thought about what she would look like naked… She looked so different, so… beautiful.

Sister Nenetl turned to face Papan with a warm, loving smile, reaching out to take the young priestess’ hand, cradling it with both hands. “Come, sister. Let me guide you.” She purred, softly, and gently pulled, leading the dazed young woman across the room, toward the flower-strewn altar where the Pillar of Glory stood proudly, waiting...