Stardust, Starlust

by Gabriella Bradley

  The scarlet star faded slowly, and there he was, waiting for her at the end of the rainbow like a pot of gold. She gazed at a magnificent nude body. His skin glowed as if painted with the red sparkling stardust, his muscles of steel flexed, his proud face surrounded by a mantle of scarlet hair. He had a masculine face, a strong chin and sensitive lips that were slightly parted as if waiting for her kiss. His eyes glowed and raked her body. She squirmed under his hot gaze, almost feeling his touch, his cock reaching for her. She dared to look at that part of him and as she’d imagined, it was erect, large, pointing straight at her crotch, at her waiting pussy.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  STARDUST, STARLUST

  Copyright ã 2003 Gabriella Bradley

  ISBN: 1-894942-26-4

  Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2003

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  STARDUST, STARLUST

  By

  GABRIELLA BRADLEY

  FLOWER DANCE

  Tundora sat up with a start. The glass dome of her sleeping compartment opened automatically and she rose from her soft silken bed. Today was her initiation. She would become a fully ordained priestess in the temple of love. Since early childhood, she’d known once she had seen twenty summers, she would become an apprentice and if approved by the priestesses, enter the temple. Five years now, she’d been an apprentice, had been taught everything about the act of mating and the pleasing of a man. They had taught her how to suck a cock, but to never allow the man to release his cum until she was ready. She’d been taught how to tease his balls until he squirmed in the agony of absolute desire, and beg for her to take his cock into her mouth, and then to quietly withdraw and dance for him to tease him some more. She had tried to convince one young priestess to reveal the secrets of the initiation ceremony, but had not succeeded.

  She reached for a brush. It was made from the finest reeds found in the forest of darkness beyond. Only the lowest of servants were allowed to venture there. She and the other apprentices had often fantasized about what monsters lived there and had secretly made plans to sneak through the tall crystal doors and venture into the dark, mysterious forest, but they’d never succeeded. They were too closely guarded.

  She brushed her pale hair that reached to her ankles vigorously—at least a thousand times as the rules stated, until it shone as bright as the moon. It cloaked her like a mantle and often she wished she could cut it to at least to her waist. But it wasn’t allowed. To cut your hair, was the ultimate way to get punished. To not brush it invited punishment. Even though she found it a waste of time to brush it before she bathed, she always obeyed the rules.

  When she was done, she left her quarters and walked to the great hall. A glittering sunken pool was in the center. Beautiful flowers drifted on the surface of pristine water, which had already been perfumed with a special fragrant essence, used only for the maidens.

  She slid into the water, lay back and closed her eyes, and allowed it to relax her nerves, to soothe her troubled spirit, because unlike the other girls, she didn’t feel excited about that day. She wanted to be free, to return to the parents she’d once known but couldn’t clearly remember now, to go back to the mother who had given her life and be held by her, loved by her.

  She closed her eyelids hiding her midnight blue eyes from the approaching girls so they couldn’t read her emotions. They twittered like a flock of birds as they joined her. She felt their hands on her, stroking her luscious breasts, their mouths on her nipples, while other girls stroked her clit and another stroked the rim of her anus.

  Tundora was the oldest girl. She would not see the other girls again, unless they too were chosen to become priestesses. Not all the girls would be chosen. Only the ones who had developed great beauty would be allowed to enter the temple of love.

  Their administrations felt pleasant, comforting, as they always did, but it had become a daily ritual and as regular as their meals. She tried to bury the thought that she’d never see her friends again. They had become like a family and she loved them as she would love sisters. She pretended to be on fire, to want more, just like she’d have to do once she was a priestess and had to please the giants, but to this day, she had never experienced the ecstasy she would feel, the ultimate delight the priestesses talked about—when she’d have her first session of love with a man. The girls continued to stroke her. She felt their fingers enter her vagina, but her clitoris didn’t throb, her abdomen had no butterflies in it, and no pleasant sensations attacked her body and made her twin hearts beat faster.

  One of the girls grabbed a large dildo from a compartment next to the pool. She inserted it into Tundora’s vagina and started to twirl it, then push it in and out slowly. It had long ago broken the fragile barrier that proclaimed her a virgin. The dildo expanded the more it was manipulated inside her vagina and before long she felt the fragile walls stretching, the opening being widened to accommodate the men. They men who frequented the temple of love were giants, she’d been told. Long ago they had landed on her planet and occupied it. The population was made their slaves and the most beautiful of women their concubines. Until one woman gained enough power to build the temple of love and organized sex for the giants.

  That woman was now many years old, and yet she reigned with an iron fist and a voice like a whip. Not one woman, not one priestess dare cross her, because punishment was severe.

  After the dildo had been wielded inside her vagina for a while, it expanded to its full width and length. She felt it fill her, tried to imagine it to be a man’s cock, but she could not feel anything, no excitement, no butterflies in her stomach, no prickling sensations as the priestesses had described to them. She had never dared voice this to the girls, or the priestesses, for fear she’d be banished from the compound and sent to the slave quarters. Two of the other girls held her legs open, stretched them until they would open no further, therefore opening her cunt even more, and she felt the huge instrument shoved deep inside. A strong clamp was placed on the lips, stretching them, until they covered the hole and the girls were sure that the dildo would not pop out. When the older girls, the ones who had already left the compound, had first done this to Tundora, it had been so painful, she’d screamed, but now the fragile flesh inside her vagina was accustomed to this treatment, the lips stretched, the opening large and sloppy. When she didn’t have the cock inserted, the lips and labia hung like pieces of limp flesh between her legs.

  The cock had to stay inside her that whole day she had been told or she’d never be able to please the men awaiting her that night because the giants were built larger than normal men, their cocks rounder than a babe’s head. And after that first night, she would have to insert the cock every day, they told her.

  Several of the girls washed and perfumed her hair, then
braided some of it and wound the tiny braids around her head until they resembled a crown and the rest of it they twirled into loops that hung to her waist. When they were done, they carried her out of the tub as she was unable to walk with the cock inside her. They lowered her gently to a table covered with soft towels and massaged her body, oiled her pale skin and perfumed her.

  After that, they placed a ring around the base of each nipple and tightened it, until her nipples swelled and grew large and vivid pink. Attached to the side of the ring was the insignia of the temple of love, a snake that circled her breasts. The snakes, too, were tightened until her ripe breasts jutted straight out from her body. In between the two rings was a tiny chain from which small ornaments dangled, each one a small replica of their gods—the bird god, the flower god, the tree god, and the sky god. After this day, she had to wear the metal bra forever and she flinched as tiny crablike prongs were punched into her breasts with a special tool and a golden emblem was embedded on each breast.

  The girls turned her over on her belly and she’d have to endure the last torture, the insertion of a plug inside her anus. She’d had it done to her every day for five years but they were always removed after a little while. From now on, when not actively making love to the giants, she had to wear the plug and dildo all the time to keep her flesh soft and pliable and she’d have to insert them herself, they had taught her how, but doing it herself was awkward.

  The plug they inserted would swell up like no other used before. A girl pushed Tundora’s knees up and spread her legs while another oiled her anus and squirted lubrication inside. She knew what the plug looked like. She’d seen it done many times to other girls before they were initiated into the temple of love. Her anus would gape wide open ready for the insertion, the rim long ago stretched, the muscle inside accustomed to the large object.

  She felt the plug being inserted, the girls moving it back and forth and she felt it swell within her.

  She tried to remember her carefree childhood when they were still allowed to roam freely through the compound and play, but for some reason couldn’t. It seemed so long ago. The girls were raised with the knowledge that one day they would be apprentices, but never found out what it entailed until they reached the age of twenty summers. By then their bodies were considered ripe and ready.

  A small ring was placed around the base of her clitoris. It, too, would stay there forever, the same as the nipple clamps.

  When the girls were done, they left her and she had to lie very still. She thirsted for a drink of water, for the delicious fruit she saw the girls eat with their midday meal, but she had to fast that day so she could enjoy fully the feast that awaited her in the temple of love.

  The day seemed to last forever. When dusk fell she felt relieved that it was time for the artificial things to be removed. A soft throbbing remained after they removed the dildo and the plug, but for the rest she felt almost normal again.

  More than ever she ached to escape, to flee from the compound, no matter what the dark forest beyond held in store for her. “Oh, spirit of light, of all that is beautiful and good, help me escape?” she whispered softly, so soft, that only the soft summer breeze could hear and carry her words upward to where the spirit of light lived.

  The girls stood her on her feet and wound long lengths of gossamer white, material around her body, leaving just her breasts bare and enough room for her to take tiny steps. They painted her lips, outlined her eyes with dark blue and applied the deepest red to her cheeks.

  She looked at her reflection and the girl in the mirror hardly resembled her. A golden choker was placed around her neck and locked. It had a loop. They attached a golden chain to the loop and led her to the open courtyard where the assembly waited. She trod on a path of flower petals, her small feet crushing them as she walked. She looked at the crowd all waiting and watching anxiously. They looked forward to an initiation because it meant festivities afterward. The women all wore festive colored wraps and waved very long feathers above their heads. They were dyed to match their wraps. The girls led her all the way to the other end of the compound, the normally forbidden area. A golden gate opened to let them through, accompanied by a soft rumbling.

  Tundora knew what would happen next. The golden circle just ahead of her would open and a throne would magically appear, sitting on it would be the oldest of them all, the head priestess. She’d seen it so many times.

  A hush fell over the crowd as two girls played a flute announcing the arrival of the head priestess. Butterflies now settled in Tundora’s stomach, not from sexual tension, but sheer terror, fear of the unknown, of what was ahead of her.

  She stood before the old woman, who even in her very old state was still stately and beautiful. Her silver hair hung in loose waves around her body like a veil. She wore a golden dress, and the crown, studded with precious gems, looked almost too large for her small head. No one knew what she looked like because she always wore a gold mask.

  Suddenly the hush was broken by terrible screeches. The assembly scattered to hide wherever they could, the throne carrying the head priestess, disappeared again.

  Tundora stood alone, unable to move fast enough because of the restricting wrap around her body. Above, very large birds circled. If she wasn’t so afraid of them, she could have admired their beauty, their grace. They were pure white, their beaks large and red. But they were monsters to be feared. They had carried off several of their women. She looked up at the fearsome beasts, saw them swoop down, and in her haste to escape their claws, fell headlong on her chest.

  One of the birds swooped lower. She wanted to close her eyes, but decided she’d meet her fate bravely. She managed to get up to look danger in the eye. To her astonishment, just behind the bird’s head sat a young girl, leather reins in her hands. She looked very tiny against the giant bird. Her hair was black as the night, and she wore a pale blue tunic and leather sandals.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she shouted to Tundora in musical voice. “I’ve come to rescue you.”

  “Rescue?” Tundora said in a quavering voice, a spark of hope entering her soul. She looked at the girl’s friendly smile, at dark eyes filled with friendliness and knew this girl meant well.

  “Yes. Stand up so my bird can grab you.”

  Tundora scrambled up, the material hampering her movements so she unwound it and threw it aside. Her hearts now beating very fast in her chest at the thought of rescue instead of the feared death she thought the birds always brought to the compound, she waited and watched as the bird swooped down again. She felt herself picked up and lifted high into the sky. The great height made her dizzy and she saw the assembly run out to watch the bird and its prey disappear. Tundora looked around and saw that she was surrounded by the rest of the flock of birds, their great wings flapping.

  She lay within the grasp of the huge claws quietly until finally they descended and she was deposited on a grassy plain. The young woman on the bird stroked its neck.

  “You are free now.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t understand. I always thought the birds carried off our women to devour them.”

  The girl smiled. “No. They are very tame and are our means of travel.”

  “Where will I go? How can I survive?”

  “There are others like you out there. You will find them.”

  “The monsters in the forest…”

  “There are no monsters. It’s but a tale told by the old witch to scare the young women being readied to become priestesses so they won’t attempt escape. You would have been ravaged by the priestess’s own monster, only one of its kind. He is a giant, as tall as a mountain and very ugly. He has one eye that never closes. His cock is so big, it tears a woman in two and pierces her to her stomach. Then when he is finished ravishing the poor initiate, she is sacrificed to the fire god. The priestess and the giant take her to the mountain of fire where she is thrown into its mouth. There is no temple of love. It’s all a tale.”

  Tundora s
huddered at what the girl had just told her. They had been lied to. If she would have entered the temple of love, she would have met her death. Instead, she had been rescued by the fearsome birds. Never had she noticed a girl on the birds’ necks because each time they came and carried off one of the initiates, she had run away with the others and hidden.

  “I wish I could rescue all the girls, but it’s not always possible. The birds only fly a certain time of the month and their flight has to coincide with the initiation ceremonies. I must go now.”

  “Thank you,” Tundora said lamely, not knowing what else to say and wondering how the girl knew when the ceremonies would be held. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, but she had asked too late. The great bird spread its wings and soared into the sky where it was soon joined by the flock and within seconds they were nothing but tiny specks.

  She glanced around her. She stood on a soft patch of grass amidst a field of beautiful exotic flowers. Some of them were vivid red, still in bud, and huge. Far in the distance she saw mountains capped with snow and colorful trees dotted the fields. There were no dwellings in sight. She was starving but had no idea where she could find food.

  It really penetrated her now that she was free and she danced among the flowers and hummed a song. The red flowers were unlike any she’d ever seen, almost as tall as her and their petals were closed, the buds resembling cocoons. She imagined what the flower would look like the next morning at sunrise when fully opened, and she hoped to be awake to witness their blossoming.

  Exhausted from the day’s preparations and events and the traumatic experience of finding out that she was to be led toward her doom that day, she felt her eyelids droop. She lay down on the grass and dreamed of the parents she couldn’t remember, of her body restored to its normal appearance.