Posted by Amarissa on August 11, 2005 at 15:23:04:
To Be A Princess
Nini pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She didn’t want to miss anything. It wasn’t hard to get to the front because she was so small. She heard her sister calling her name, telling her to wait, but she paid no mind. Her sister would find her. She always found her.
Sure enough, the older girl soon kneeled beside her, saying, “Nini! Don’t run off like that! What if you get hurt? What am I to say to Mother and Father if I lose you?” Nini scoffed. “I won’t get hurt, and you never lose me. Look! Ora! Look at the pretty ladies!” She turned and put her arms around her sister but kept her eyes on the spectacle before the crowd.
The princesses were emerging from the temple. Seven tall, young women with ebony skin, dressed in gold and dripping with gold jewelry. Drums and chanting accompanied them, and they moved slowly in rhythm with the ritual music. Flickering torchlight sparkled and flashed from the gold lying against their velvet skin. They stared straight ahead as if in a trance.
Reaching the middle of the temple courtyard, the majestic young women stopped and stood in a line facing the crowd. Behind them were seven low altars, especially constructed for tonight. As if at an invisible signal, they removed the gold cloth from their shoulders, revealing their beauty to Nini and everyone watching. She gasped in amazement at their perfectly formed, perfectly ripened bodies. They all had large, firm breasts, riding high and proudly on their chests: breasts she would have given anything to have herself. Breasts like her sister had. She moved one hand and squeezed her sister’s soft breast beneath the thin cotton fabric covering it. Her sister squirmed and Nini felt her nipple become erect. Nobody present could ignore the excitement of the moment.
Nini’s eyes remained riveted as the princesses removed the long gold cloths wound about their waists, baring their legs, and their shapely, womanly hips and thighs. Then their brief loincloths dropped to the ground, displaying their virginal treasures for all to see and approve. Nini’s eyes almost popped. She had hardly ever seen princesses before, and she had never seen even one naked, let alone this many at once. They were the daughters of the greatest kings in the land, and here they were, baring all for Nini to feast her eyes on. She felt tingly all over, and gripped her sister even more tightly. Her sister responded by moving her hand under Nini’s thin shirt, and caressing her own small breasts. “They are so beautiful,” breathed Nini, and Ora only nodded, words not being equal to what she saw before her.
The beautiful women, attired now only in jewelry, knelt among the piles of clothes they had discarded. The priestess approached them, and called out in a clear, strong voice:
“One hundred years ago our ancestor left this life for the next life, where he dwells now in the palace of the just and righteous. Every year on this date we remember his passing and offer him our gifts that he may remember us with blessings of prosperity and success, victory in battle and fertility in our fields and homes. Every year on this date we remember his passing and offer him our gifts so he may not forget us in our hour of need.
“O blessed ancestor, O liberator of the plain and protector of the mountain, gatherer of the peoples and procurer of plenty; foot of the elephant, tooth of the crocodile, claw of the lion, eye of the eagle. You who created our nation out of the poor wanderers of the desert. Hear us. We have not forgotten you, who created us and continue to protect us. We honor you this night. One hundred years ago you left us. Not a man or woman is alive who has looked upon you face. Your sons have lived and died, and their sons have lived and died. But we cannot forget you. We bring you our sweetest wine, our fattest cows, our richest treasure. Every year on this night we do these things, and will always do them. But this night we bring you something more. This night we also bring you our most beautiful daughters.”
Indicating the kneeling beauties with one hand she continued. “These are the finest daughters of the strongest kings of our land. We offer them to you that they might serve you and bring you pleasure in the palace of the just and righteous.”
Nini and Ora watched as if they were in a trance, as the girls before them stood, turned, and walked back to the altars. The girls sat down calmly on the small, low stone platforms and waited for the priestess, who now approached them with a long, black obsidian knife in her hands. The first princess, the lowest-ranking one, lay back across her altar, feet on the ground before her. Her perfect body glistened in the dancing torchlight as her hands were lifted back over her head and held firmly in place by attendants. Ora’s hand dived between Nini’s legs and found the wetness there. The priestess raised the blade high and plunged it down into the girl on the altar. There was no cry, only a kind of grunt as blood spurted around the knife buried in the girl’s breast. Her body jerked violently once, twice, then lay still. Yanking the knife from the dead girl’s body, the priestess held it high so all could see the blood dripping from the blade. The crowd moaned in ecstasy.
Nini though she would die too, from pure exhilaration. Her sister was stroking her hard little clitoris, and her hips were gyrating in a dance they seemed to have learned all by themselves. The priestess moved to the next-ranking princess, leaving the first sprawled backwards across her altar, blood oozing from the gash in her chest. The second girl lay back like the first, closing her eyes and smiling as the knife was raised over her. Once more attendants grasped her wrists to hold her in place, and once more the knife descended in a dark flash. Her body arched and heaved, eyes and mouth opening wider than imaginable and long legs kicking wildly, before she too lay still. Again the crowd moaned, and Nini moaned with it. Her head lay on her older sister’s shoulder, face turned toward the spectacle so she would not miss a single detail, and her hand clutched desperately at her sister’s breast; kneading, squeezing, pinching.
As the third girl lay back across her altar in turn and the knife as raised over her, Ora penetrated Nini with her finger and began moving it in and out. The younger girl whimpered and felt an orgasm suddenly about to take her. The knife plunged into the victim’s quivering breast and Nini cried out, her young vagina contracting desperately around her sister’s finger. The third girl twitched and jerked, shuddered and kicked, while Nini came and came. Her own fingers found her sister’s slippery wetness as she gazed at the third girl’s limp, dead body, legs splayed apart and virgin sex exposed. She came again as the fourth girl died, and her sister came, moaning, as the fifth girl died. As the sixth girl lay back, Nini felt a second finger joining the first inside her, stretching her and filling her deliciously. Her clitoris was now against the palm of her sister’s hand, and the two fingers moving in an out of her sent her reeling. She hurried to do the same for her sister, gasping as the sixth girl’s eyes rolled back in her head, and when the knife finally entered the breast of the seventh, highest-ranking princess, both girls orgasmed together, collapsing in a chorus of moans.
Nini watched in a daze as the attendants carried the girls’ bodies to the crematory platform. A great stack of wood fuel had been built beneath the platform and awaited ignition. Two torchbearers stood next to it. The bodies of the first and second princesses, still adorned in their gold jewelry, were laid side by side in the center of the platform, arranged head-to-toe. Then the bodies of the second and third princesses were placed on top of these, but arranged at right-angles to the first, so that they created a crisscross pattern. The fifth and sixth bodies were then placed at right angles again to the previous two, so that there was a stack of bodies three layers high. The priestess supervised closely as her attendants nudged and moved the bodies carefully into position.
Nini watched raptly. The princesses, breathtakingly beautiful in life, were just as beautiful in death … even more so, in view of the selfless devotion they had shown in sacrificing their young lives so willingly. She had never seen anything remotely as beautiful as them before, and knew she never would again.
When the pile was finished and the seventh, highest-ranking princess had been carefully placed diagonally on the top, the priestess returned to the exhausted crowd. Once more her voice rose, strong and clear. “Our finest daughters have chosen to join the great ancestor in the palace of the just and righteous. When the fire is lighted their bodies will become smoke, and that smoke will rise to heaven where he shall be waiting for them.” Nini envied them so, these lovely girls whose lifeless bodies now awaited transformation. “If any here, who is of age, and not yet married, wishes to join them in attending upon the great ancestor in the palace of the just and righteous, let her now step forward and ask.”
A hush fell anew over the crowd, and a girl stepped forward into the space in front of the altars, still littered by the fallen garments of the seven princesses. “I, Nara, I wish to go … Take me, please.” The priestess looked at her and said, “Undress, girl; reveal yourself.” The girl Nara stepped out of her dress and the two torchbearers approached her, holding their torches forth to illuminate her. The priestess studied her, approvingly. She was, although not on a level with the princesses, a comely and well-developed girl. She was a little shorter than they, but was worthy to serve them, and perhaps to provide the ancestor with a bit of variety should he become bored with repetition.
“You may accompany them, girl,” said the priestess, and stepped behind Nara, caressing her breasts and belly with her left hand while her right, holding the knife, reached around her and positioned it for the fatal thrust. Then she brought the knife down, through the girl’s beast and into her heart, catching her as she went limp and fell. An attendant took the girl’s body from the priestess and carried it to the platform, propping it in a sitting position against the pile of the princesses’ bodies. The girl’s head rolled to the side, and she looked as if she had sat down there and dozed off. Blood dripped from her breast onto her smooth stomach.
Another girl stepped forward from the crowd, and another. The priestess worked steadily, never hurrying, and the body pile on the cremation platform grew. Soon girls were standing in line, naked, waiting to be inspected, to be approved, to die on the obsidian blade. Nini, mesmerized, began to finger herself. She did not notice as Ora next to her slowly stood and stepped out of her dress. But when she saw her sister step forward naked, and her beautiful voice saying, “I, Ora, wish to go,” she was stunned. Ora could not go! What would she do without her big sister to take care of her? But before she could collect herself enough to cry out in protest, it happened. Ora was accepted by the priestess and the knife bit hungrily into her breast.
Nini saw it all as if it were in slow motion. Ora, naked, divinely beautiful, leaning back against the priestess, eyes closed, giving herself. She stood with her legs apart, and Nini could even see her vaginal lips protruding slightly, still swollen and open from the series of orgasms she had just had. She saw the knife descending in the priestess’ hand, sinking into the curve of Ora’s breast just below her nipple and smoothly disappearing into her sister’s body. Ora’s mouth opening in a round wordless “O,” her eyes staring straight ahead as she experienced her death, her legs jerking involuntarily, then her head falling forward as her consciousness faded and her body went completely limp, slumping in the arms of the priestess who held her, one arm around her middle and the other hand grasping the knife embedded in her chest, as an attendant moved forward to bear away the body. Ora’s face hidden, only the swaying of her braided hair visible…
Nini was shocked, devastated. She could not live without Ora. She could not stay behind while Ora went without her. She jumped forward, tearing off her dress, crying, “Me! Me! Take me too!”
The priestess looked down at her. Too skinny, not really of age, she had no business offering herself. “You are too young, child,” she said softly, apologetically. But Nini insisted, desperate. “You have to! Take me! Kill me! Please!” She clutched at the arm holding the knife. The priestess simply waved her arm, flinging Nini to the ground. She wailed desolately, her eyes swimming with tears, as another girl stepped forward, announcing her name and her desire, and was dispatched. The attendants dragged off the body, and the priestess turned her attention back to supervising the arrangement on the platform.
Then Nini saw her chance. Scrambling forward with all the nimbleness of youth combined with desperation, she snatched the knife from the priestess’ hand and ran toward the temple. Shouts and hubbub rang in her ears, but she ran as fast as she could. Others ran after her. As she ran, she stabbed herself in the breast. But she did not turn the knife correctly to allow it to pass in between her ribs, so all she did was pain herself, cutting her breast and her nipple without causing a serious wound. She tried again, harder, but with no more effect, so she did the only thing she could think of, plunging the knife into her abdomen instead. It sank in effortlessly, and she stumbled and fell. She fell with her full weight on the knife just as the crowd caught up with her and surrounded her. It was driven all the way through her and she felt as though it had cut her in two. Hands grabbed at her and rolled her over, pulling the knife from her, but its work was complete. Blood poured from her, as the priestess stood over her. This one, she thought. Breasts too small, not mature enough ... but what spirit. She could still serve as an attendant. “Let her be cremated also,” she declared. “But no more. That is all.”
Nini felt herself lifted and carried. Her eyes were closed and she could not seem to open them. The pain from the knife was very great, and for some reason she found she could not breathe. But then as the blood left her body and she weakened, she felt the pain less and was able to take a few short gasping breaths. She felt herself placed in a sitting position and then there was no more movement. Her head was against something soft. She concentrated on breathing for a few more moments, and then found she could open her eyes after all. When her vision came into focus she could not believe what she saw. In front of her eyes was the face of her beloved sister. Her sister’s eyes were open too, but there was no sight in them. It didn’t matter. They were together, and were going together to heaven where they would be together always. Nini was very weak but she found the strength to move her hand between her sister’s parted thighs. She found the wetness there and the tender flesh, the sensation of wet, tender girl flesh that she carried with her as she drifted away …
The priestess watched as the torch-bearers ignited the flames and stepped back. More than a dozen dead girls were heaped on the platform. All around the heap of dead princesses, dead attendants sat as though sleeping. It was glorious offering. She saw the young one, the one that had immolated herself at the end; her hand seemed to have fallen into the lap of the girl next to her … she had been too young, really, it was unseemly … and then she remembered something. There was a legend, an obscure but persistent one, that in his last years the great ancestor had enjoyed the youngest girls most of all …
The priestess smiled to herself as she watched wood and flesh consumed together in a roaring column of flame. Perhaps the legend was true. Perhaps the young one would please the great ancestor most of all.