Sunday, 20 November 2016

In the name of Noxon (Part 9)

[Extreme S&M Ahead - do not read if you do not like very bad things done, on very nice women, for the sake of the voyeuristic pleasure of a petty and utterly idiotic divinity]

By the way, chance is that, if you know me from other venues and you have followed "Noxon" till now, this is just what you were waiting for, my dear bad boy/girl/divinity.



Sarah Westerhoos was on the superior deck of one of the new Officiants' boats - her Granny Padma hadn't exaggerated. The electric engine hardly made any noise or vibration. The boat was travelling, leisurely, inside the old channel that went from the ancient waterway of the Sassa river to the SassaFrakka Ziggurat.

It had been two years, since her sister Emily had been abducted by the entity known as Noxon - Sarah had lost any hope of ever seen her twin again, unless she could get inside the house of Noxon in some way, and the only one she knew of was joining the Officiant and endure all that she could, on top of a Ziggurat.

This was going to be her first ascension as a full Officiant - she had already survived things that, only a year before, would have seemed impossible to her, and soon she was going to face more.

In her hand was a leash, going to the collar of one Called, a little daughter of Sassa's middle-low bourgeoisie that looked every bit as young as her 19 years, and maybe even a bit more.

Sarah considered the fact that her follow-up was just one solitary, so-so girl, but she realized that she could not really complain about the prudence of the local Church's chapter.

After all, she was an oddball, to say so - someone that had a very personal and outside-box reason to enlist.

No matter how consistently she would pursue her Officiant career, the old women that organized the rites were bound to be suspicious of her, for a long time. Persons with her kind of stake in the faith, in fact, were known to be prone to suddenly lost interest and decide to leave the service, be damned its carefully designed social whiplash; and, even if it was seldom acknowledged, this tended to have an effect on the girls that had been introduced to The Service by them.

Sarah sighed - she felt that she had gone a long way, but a lot more was still in front of her.

Her sigh inspired another one, at her back - she darted a glance above her shoulder, to see the young girl - Meri? - reflecting her own unsteadiness, multiplied by a younger age and an even shakier vocation.

The young Sassian was not an incredible beauty, either... why exactly had the Old Bastard - this was the name that Sarah had chosen for Noxon - decided to summon this slightly chubby kid, among the millions of women in the Great Sassa Area?

They arrived at the Ziggurat landing pier, way before she had started to fathom that mystery.

Sassa's Ziggurat had a staircase of the full, traditional length - 1024 steps, each 17 cm and some mm tall, a whole 175 metres of climb.

At least it was a modern ziggurat, its stair twisting up its front side - a long, slow climb and not the muscle-breaking, steep vertigo of more ancient designs.

Sarah was not sure whether this was really better - "The Walk" takes a lot more, on these low-slung slopes, and she fully felt the gaze of half the city on her, as she couldn't use the bulk of the stone pyramid as a shield. On the other hand, the cramps the old ones can induce in even the most physically fit - and better trained - women were the stuff of legends.

Yet, "The Walk" was only one hour or so of a very long day.

She started, nudging a light strap to the leash going to the little Sassan's box-tie central knot.

They started at the slow cadence of the tambourines, drummed by their companions along the stair.

Soon, she was only vaguely aware of the city, or even of the small girl in her tow - she became lost in the almost-trance she had long studied for, in the months after her induction.

Near the end she realized only vaguely giving the leash to a priestess, on the half-last plan of the ziggurat where the inductions take place.

She went on to the last stretch of steps, her mind almost a blank slate with no human concerns.

On the plan, the first women on the sides were recently inducted novices, preparing themselves for their first climb.

Inside the inner square, older women looked with mild interest - these were active duty officiants, who had already done the walk - and who would still do it in the future, plenty of times. Finally, inside "The Cube", there were only four priestesses - officiants that had decided to remain in the Church when their twenty years of service were over.

They were her torture team, and she had met with each of them many times, during her training.

The older ones were Gea and Gaia, married officiants from Fillandia, with that region classic feature of Ancient Africa and the pale skin that came with generations of the little sun available in high Antarctic areas.

As many married couples since the dawn of the species, they had grown to resemble each other, in some uneasily describable way. The younger ones were Nichelle, a tanned girl with epicanthic folds from Fraglbar, and Jenna, a tall RedHead from Grassyrainland.

Sarah was already down, in the vast realms of sub-space, in the trance that would allow her recently revealed masochist nature - she was, indeed, one of the few, lucky "naturals" - to transform the storm of pain ahead into a strange, calm and pleasant serenity.

That had been a great surprise, in her post-induction training - she liked the right pain, at the right moments, produced by the right persons, in the right way. A lot of "in the right", but she liked it - when it was well administered, and the priestesses of Noxon accumulated years of experience, from her side of the altar, before moving to their current one.

The ritualized pain didn't give her the cataclysmic climaxes of some of her companions, but it was already much better than for others. She had a chance, although slimmer than the one she'd fancied entering the service, of reaching up to the 'god' great white house, and be able to ask to the old bastard - "where the hell is my sister?"

When the youngest priestesses greeted and undressed her, it felt just - natural. Nichelle, Jenna and her had rehearsed these moments plenty of times, in the weeks leading to this moment.

The knot of tension that had managed to maintain itself, deep, deep inside her eased and dissolved when the two older priestesses extended their hands, so that she could be guided to the altar.

As the ones in most Ziggurats, it was a mobile structure, at present looking just like a one step tall platform at the centre of The Cube - she raised herself on it, sat in its centre by cross-folding her legs in a lotus position and then distended, till she remained lying, her arms and legs well spread, her eyes looking the deep blue-green of the morning sky.

The altar was raised, till it was at the correct height for the work of the priestesses. A scream came, from the platform below the great square - the little Sassan hasty training hadn't been thorough enough, and she could not manage to attain the state of mind necessary to withstand her induction with some pleasure.

Gea held Sarah's hands, while they waited - together - for the other priestesses to come back with the tools to be used on the nearly new officiant - and for what was going on, some five meters below them, to end.

Soon, the screams turned to almost inaudible sobs then, after some long minutes, a new sound reached their ears - the Sassan was a screamer, and announced to the whole universe that she had finally come.

By then Gaia had come back, and now the two older clergywomen stood at her sides, each one holding one of her hands and slowly caressing her body, while Jenna and Nichelle placed the trays and prepared for their role as assistants.

The beholders along the causeway had already started to disband - what was now to happen was not, supposedly, for human eyes.

However, the Church never bothered to press any city council into changing its zoning laws, so even this Ziggurat was now surrounded by stupidly high towers, whose last floors offered a view of the events as good as the one that The God had.

Her eyes to the sky, framed by the thin stainless steel beams of "The Cube" (even Fraglbar Ziggurat had finally moved away from the ancient reinforced concrete Cube structure), she couldn't care less about the little women that had taken a day break to watch her, from their offices and flats in the towers.

A priest surged from the lower platform, to signal that the Sassan had been finally inducted in the service and, thus, it was finally time to give the 'god' its main course.

The four priestess stepped near Sarah, and each of them placed a leather cuff to one of her aft articulations - wrists and ankles - then locked it to the Yttrium frame. When all these were firmly in place, they trapped her to the frame with leather bands at knees and elbows and, finally, the assured her hips and her chest.

When they were sure that she was fully confined on the small frame, she felt the the large stone plan of the altar disappear from below her back, while the uncomfortable, small beams of the double-y shaped "Yttrium" support maintained their position.

The altar continued to go down, its hydraulics hardly emitting any sound, till it became just another stone in the pavement, barely distinguished by its enormous shape and the design of the "under-Yttrium" - a large, double-y shaped slab of the same rock as the altar, that levels to the ground when the altar is closed to the ground - in its middle.

The priestesses donned their gloves, then the younger ones made a step back and assumed a waiting position, similar to the box-tie start.

Each of the older priestesses went down, with a hand, inside her legs - one of them started teasing her anus, while the other inserted two fingers inside the vagina.

They continued to warm her up for a while, as they had done plenty of times during the rehearsals, them signalled Nichelle to take place between her legs and replace them, while Jenna took a specular position, in front of Sarah, and lowered the support of the Officiant's head protruding from the Yttrium frame, opened the front of her priestly robe, and placed her vagina in a position where Sarah's tongue could gratify her.

Or, at least, try to - Jenna hadn't assumed that position for her own pleasure.

The older women took a medium length leather flogger and, each on her side, moved two step away, to have Sarah's body at the right striking distance.

They started slowly, and increased the intensity of their strokes for the successive twenty minutes, before changing to a heavier cat of nine tails, with whom they continued for other twenty minutes, before switching to a final 5 feet bull-whip.

Every few minutes, Gea and Gaia took a pause, so that Jenna could offer some water to their patient, and switched arm.

At the end of that first hour, the body of Sarah was covered with whip marks, and blood dripped from some small cuts.

Jenna, whose body had acted not only as a further humiliation for the much younger colleague but, also, as a shield, didn't fare too much better - many of the strokes given with the non-dominant hands by her seniors had gone astray, and impacted on the arms womb and legs of the younger priestess.

Similarly, the forearms of Nichelle were now full of whip marks.

Now that the whips had stopped, Sarah could appreciate that the hands of this latter had fully entered inside her... a sensation that she had discovered to be quite satisfying, during the preparation weeks before the rite.

The priestess then extracted both hands, first the one inside Sarah's rectum, then, partially, the one in her vagina. When the thumb came out of the young woman, the priestess started using it to rub, suavely, against Sarah's clitoris.

Nichelle continued her stimulation, till Gaia took her place, in hand a powerful, spherical head vibrator.

The old woman continued to stimulate the young Officiant, with the machine and her own hand, till Sarah came. Then, the altar platform was raised again, and Sarah was - temporarily - freed from her numerous shackles.

A new girl arrived - not a priestess, another officiant not much older than Sarah - to take care of her during the half. hour rest period, helping cleaning up the body of the former Windy Valley inhabitant, and keeping her well hydrated.

As she sat in her lotus position, feeling her colleague fingers running all the length of her body, Sarah couldn't help but imagining Noxon - the 15000 years old bastard - looking at the spectacle, with a glass of wine and a Mortadella sandwich in hand, or something the like.


When the four priestess returned, Sarah promptly lied down again, this time facing the stone.

A heavy leather hood was placed on her face, though it let her mouth open, for her to scream - or to safe-wording out of the ceremony.

A heavy, rugged corset was put on her, covering the whole of her belly and back - a necessary shield, to safeguard the kidneys and the surrounding tissues from the stroke of the whips.

In the following hour, the four women pretty much repeated what they had done to the front of Sarah's body, reiterating many hits on her exposed ass to compensate for the dangerous areas they had to avoid.

They left Sarah, barely conscious, to the cares of the small Officiant.

For more than an hour, the exhausted girl was allowed to rest, in the shade of the Cube automatic cover, then the last leg of her ordeal commenced.

They freed Sarah, and helped her to seat, on the raised altar's border.

Then, the altar closed down completely, and they helped her to stand when her feet touched the ground. Soon, the square inside the Cube was fully flat, the altar and the frame just pavement irregularities at its centre. Lifting hooks descended from the winches on the cube's top beam, and Jenna and Nichelle locked Sarah's cuffs in them.

The beaten girl's legs were completely unsteady, and she would have likely fell down if left alone. The last rite that the dices had declared for the young Officiant was an "optional" one, that Sarah was authorized to refuse but decided to take it anyway.

The electric winches lifted Sarah's body till she remained just on the tip of her toes, and she begun to cry. Jenna reached for her and, with her tallness, managed to kiss the tortured girl on her mouth and whispered her "Be strong, it will end soon".

For this breach of protocol, the redhead would be whipped harshly, once back to the Officiants House.

 The unnamed Officiant brought, from the recesses of the ziggurat, a final set of contraptions, and disposed it on the top shelf of one of the trays.

The first tool appeared to be a small, inflatable cylinder with two conic terminals,  a bit like a big silicone suppository with a thick tube protruding from one tip.

Next to it, a stainless steel, well sized speculum, and than an oddly shaped dildo, with a sizeable hole traversing its whole length, then a stainless terminal with a one-way valve and a lock-plug, and one battery operated terminal-clamping machine.

Gaia inserted the speculum in Sarah, then arranged its screws so that it fully opened and exposed the young woman's uterus cervix.

She then took the inflatable gizmo, showered it with lubricant and proceeded to force it through the cervix's neck. Soon, only the black silicone tube remained in sight, protruding from the body of Sarah.

Gea kept caressing and soothing Sarah from behind, as she had started to do the very moment that the little Officiant had brought the new tools from the service rooms inside the ziggurat.

Gaia then slid the tube inside the oddly shaped dildo/holder, and proceeded to move this up along it, till she placed the misshaped clump of silicone inside the stretched body cavity.

She then removed the speculum, all the while keeping the newly placed holder in its position. She knew that its top was modelled on the young woman's cervix mouth, as well that its silicone gel would morph itself over the next few days, as daily injection of more compound would enlarge the holder toward the inside.

Nichelle took a set of leather strands from the tray - her and Jenna managed to assemble it, connecting its pin joints, around the hips and waist of Sarah, revealing its nature as a tight-fitting harness. With a bit of awkwardness, them and Gaia finally managed to complete the set-up, fully locking the various silicone contraptions inside the womb of the officiant.

Lastly, Gaia glued shut all the joints using a self-hardening resin, on each joint applying the Seal of Service.

The strands of the harness really were just nice covers for carbon fibre tapes, able to withstands thousand of kilograms of tensile strength. Once fully hardened, the resin was, likewise, among the most resistant plastics known to woman.

By the end of the day, Sarah would have needed specific tools to remove the harness, and the uncomfortable pieces of synthetic biocompatible materials that this kept firmly inside her body.

Gaia then took, from the tray, the last final pieces of the puzzle - the battery operated clamping machine, who could also cut the nano-carbon woven silicone tube, and the special one-way valve and socket plug assembly. She cut the tube - which could also act as a one-ton life-line - and proceeded to clamp the one-way valve-plug on it, again using the multi-ton strength of the battery tool.

In the meanwhile, Nichelle inserted a more normal butt-plug inside Sarah's ass, and then attached one tensor of a Y-shaped leather frame to one hook in the back of Sara's leather corset, the centre of the frame to the screw protruding from the butt-plug, with a small butterfly bolt and, finally, when Gaia moved away, she passed the two final strands of the frame on the sides of the Venus mount, to two rings in the leather corset,

While this anal plug would be retired, at the end of the day, the material in her womb would be left in placer, as every of her days hereafter would start with a generous quantity of saline solution, forcedly inserted inside the inner inflatable, to expand her womb.

The physicians who would supervise the expansion process, as well as her menstruations' suspension, would be the only ones authorised to remove her harness and proceeded with the necessary hygiene and health maintenance activities. 

The purpose of this all was to use the, by then enormous, balloon inside Sarah's belly to suspend her upside down, in her third full officiation, six local months after.

Gaia then attached a small saline pump yo the inflate plug, and proceeded to place the first half of many a liter inside Sarah. The saline was at body temperature and, among the sensorial assault that the session had brought on the young woman, it went nearly unnoticed.

The winches hooks were lowered, and finally Nichelle and Jenna helped the nearly destroyed Sarah walking out of the Cube squares, down the first ramp of steps, and inside the hidden rooms of the Ziggurat, where the paramedics of the Service were waiting for her.

On a veranda of a very nice villa, in one of the few tropical islands still untouched by mass tourism, a seven feet tall Obsidian man and a chubby, five feet girl looked at the scene, as reproduced by a way beyond the state of the art 3D vision system.

Both were avatars of the 'god', however, this usually didn't override their original consciousnesses when it observed the rites, one of the few times in which each was sure to be itself - and one of the few occasions in which they had to talk, to communicate.

Around them, about a dozen of naked women, almost all with marks on their bodies, some wearing the same kind of harness enclosing Sarah, or even more outlandish implements - one of them a Protasian with no arms.

The Abducted Officiants were discussing the spectacle from their perspective, though some were simply crazily masturbating.

- "So, that is Emily's little sister?"

- "Twin - the four of them were born in a couple of hours. She is ten minutes younger than her older sister."

- "Oh, girls, won't our spy on the alien ship make a fuss, over this?"

- "Why? Her sister has the same right that she had, to consecrate herself to us. Emily has nothing to say about this, really."

- "More on the point, if this sister grows enough, should we ever get her here?"

The tall man stopped, while the armless woman stepped in front of them and, gracefully,  sat with a perfect rendition of the Officiants' Lotus cross-fold - a movement that the Protasianne, Diem van Tinh, had invented forty centuries before, when she still hadn't been abducted by the god.

- "That is not your choice" 

- "No need to use that tone, we are just... us - what we think  does not really matter."

- "Maybe... it is customary that we are the ones that decide to ascend an officiant. Us, the council of the Forever Servants."

- "Noxon has no reason to allow to his presence someone who is bound to be so critical as that lass."

- "Unless everybody is mistaken, that is precisely the reason why she has entered the service. Am I wrong?"

- "Uh, no - No, you are not Mistaken."

 The change in the big man voice pitch signalled that Noxon main consciousness had taken control - the gold-tanned woman ignored it, as it was inconsequential. Her artificial arms arrived, navigating the room like some weird animal or the semi-autonomous small robot that they really were, reached their owner and dressed on her. Diem preferred to have her arms attached, when she talked with the Old Bastard, as she knew that the ancient A.I. had never really overcome its original human upload preference for Italian-style mimicry

- "So, when she will have earned it - soon, if this fist performance is a clue of her level of commitment - we will invite her here, and you will take her dress-down like a man, and not like a stupid divinity."

The last word was almost spat. Not for the first time in 5000 years, Noxon wondered how could it have been so dumb as to reprint its ancient collection of comics - Oink and its "Confront your Gods" message had made lasting damages to its godhood pretences.

Yet, erasing the abductees and their culture would have been... wrong like the plans of JVH for the inhabitants of Madian, Noxon's measure for unacceptable levels of divine ass-holeness.

- "Of Course - when she will have earned it."

Diem stood up, proud as ever, her nipples even more arrogant than ever

- "VĂ¢ng!"

Noxon looked at the 4000 year young arse as she went away, and felt that she was every bit as lovely as the first time that she climbed Nijistrim's Ziggurat, one of the few with developmental malformations in a society completely based upon the use of genetic engineering.

The substance that had produced that generation of teratogenic damages was long forgotten, and Noxon knew that it was right, but at times it wondered if the spunky 'Namese would have been so outspoken, hadn't she had to fight the unwanted pity of the "normals" in her youth.

Noxon considered the Westerhoos sisters conundrum....

Finally, some fun.

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