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Shameless-Tales from Serault	By : UtherSlutdragon Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 20695 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own neither Dragon Age nor The Last Court . But that´s okay since I don`t make any money with this anyway.

Chapter List
- 16
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[Brought to you by my kind of religion. Or at least my kind of ceremony...]
"She is cursed, my Lord, or maybe haunted.

I'm not a witch or even circle trained but even I can feel it... ."

You want to object to the Warden Mage's assessment,

but you can not ignore the omens any longer.

Milk turning sour in the udder.

The ravens and crows croaking you awake.

The weird dreams.

And your recent dealings with the things dwelling in the forest surely didn't help.

The shadows lengthen and everybody seems to know.
You sigh.

"What should I do?"

"I am not sure... but take a look at this."

She hands you a note, the letters written in a fine,cursive script.
The forest awakens.Join us in the grove beyond the thundered oak, three nights hence.

The Masked Andraste will quench its hunger.
"You can not be serious.

That's a myth at best.

Or a practical joke."
"Riiight, a joke.

And you aren't the least bit curious if those myths might be true?"

She rises from your bed and starts dressing herself.

"I'll go tonight.

And I would like your company."

She kisses you deeply.

"Think about it."

-------------------------------------
Of course you followed her to the grove as you both knew you would.

Damn curiosity.

She laughed as she handed you a mask and cloak made from black burlap.

She made you strip off all your other clothes before you entered the silent grove.

She did the same and hid your clothes between to juniper bushes.
Now you are walking through the forest, naked feet on muddy ground,

the thin fabric of the makeshift robe barely covering your shame.

The grove is lit by torches and candles,

the flickering shadows make the dead oak seem alive;

black tendrils grasping after the strange congregation.

About 50 men and women have gathered around the withered tree,

all masked and all naked except for some thin cloaks here and there.

They all stand there in complete silence, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
There is an altar of sorts, a tree stump decorated with moss and wild flowers.

Behind it, hung between two birch trees a stag.

Upside down, his guts spilling from his opened carcass.
A slow, guttural chant begins and their leader emerges.

Her face is masked by red leather and she wears chantry robes,

cut open to reveal her tits and sex.

She carries a simple bow in her right hand and a silver chalice in her left.

The chant intensifies as she puts the chalice down on the altar,

revealing another cut in her robes and a shapely ass.

She rises up and turns to face the humming crowd.

Her left hand wanders between her legs and she starts fingering herself.

Your dick hardens.

You look around and some men are already stroking their hard cocks

or fingering the women beside them.

You put your right between Bethany's legs and start playing with her pussy lips,

while the Masked Priestess puts the bow between her legs and starts rubbing herself against it.
You feel the touch of a stranger's hand on your hard-on,

your own hand is still buried between the Warden's legs who in turn is now jerking off two men.

You can feel Bethany's juices running down your hand,

you can her the soft moans from all around you.

In front of you a girl has dropped to her knees, naked except for a simple mask,

just about covering her eyes, her tits firm and the hunger visible in her young face.

You want to move forward, take advantage of her heavenly invitation,

but she is already encircled by men, all presenting her with their cock and she is them swallowing eagerly.

An orgiastic scream, you look up and you can see the Leader,

juices spraying from her hole and into the chalice.

She lifts it up and the moaning and groaning instantly stops.

The hands withdraws from your dick and after a second of hesitation you stop teasing the Mage's pearl.

She takes the first sip,her eyes widen and her nipples harden,

juices start again leaking from her cunt.
A woman walks toward the Priestess and receives the drink.

She takes a sip and then staggers back into the crowd, her eyes widened and filled with lust.

A man steps forward and drinks.He screams in ecstasy and then falls down on the ground.

A young girl, pulling a young guy behind her approaches the Priestess and takes a mouthful;

she offers it to her lover from her red lips and he drinks with joy.

Soon both of them lie entwined on the mossy ground.
Then Bethany pushes you forward and now you stand in front of the strange Priestess.

The concoction tastes weird, sweet and burning and cold.

You close your eyes for a moment, fire racing through your body,lighting your muscles and cock ablaze.

Your eyes open and you stand before the Makers Bride, naked yet draped in divine radiance.

She hands the chalice to another cultist and embraces you.

She pushes you down onto the altar and then starts riding your hardness.

You can feel her moving against you, her light burning away the shadows.

Suddenly she is pressed against your body, another figure towering behind her, axes in both hands.

She screams, her insides filled from two sides;

her scream soon silenced by another figure,

large like a mountain and filling her mouth with his mighty cock.
For a few moments you enjoy the warmth and closeness, her naked body close to yours,

her breasts rubbing against your chest.

Then the two of you scream with one voice as your seed fills her pussy.
You crawl out from under her, drenched in sweat and screaming in ecstasy;

temporally blinded by the lights you stumble into the grove;

people forming from contorted shadows, a grotesque dance of mingled bodies,

lying in the mud or standing up propped against the old trees.
You calm yourself and your eyes start adapting to the light.

You find Bethany on all fours one man in front of her and one behind her;

the three of them lost in their own pleasure.

You can hear her soft moan and the slapping of flesh against flesh.
You stumble and fall.

Darkness.

You don't know how long you were out but as you open your eyes Bethany sits beside you,

holding your hand.

She leans in and kisses you.

With a groan you sit and look around.

Andraste is lying on the simple altar naked and covered in seed.

You see a man walking towards her,

massaging his dick and finally adding his sperm to the pools running down her legs.

The Warden kisses you again and starts touching your hardening cock.

"I figured you wouldn't want to miss this...", she whispers into your ear.

"But I want to fuck you first...".

She smiles and presents you her wet pussy.

You enter her from behind, your eyes wandering up her arched back;

your hands on her hips, her jet-black hair swinging with each thrust.

Your gaze falls on the body on the altar and on the guy fucking her now.

He enters her deeply again and again, her and Bethany moaning in unison,

then he withdraws and starts spraying his cum over her stomach and on her breasts.

Another man walks up to the altar and starts taking her asshole.

You withdraw from Bethany's snatch and likewise start fucking her tight backdoor.

She gasps and moans in appreciation.

The masked man doesn't last long and soon he too coats the woman white.

Another one walks up and empties his ball with a satisfied groan over her tits.

You continue fucking the Warden's tight ass with steady thrusts,

while the next one walks up and starts pumping his member into her mouth.
You are on the brink now and so you rise up and walk with boiling balls towards the altar.

Her body under your penis, caked with seed and yet radiant;

Bethany comes up from behind her lips press against your shoulders and her hands start milking you.

Your orgasm overwhelms you and you plaster the writhing body beneath you with white ropes.

And as soon as you are finished another one takes your place and continues the ritual.
You just stand there and watch the spectacle when your companion takes her place in the line.

She reaches the stump and starts finishing herself off with skilled fingers;

and soon her juices gush from her and mix with the seed on the body.
To be continued in Chapter 18: A Serault Knight's Dream
Wherein we will have to endure yet more poetry... .
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Shameless-Tales from Serault