Copyright (c) 2019,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Thursday, April 11, 2019

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.

A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: fertili1.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com

story_codes: Mutiple Men/preteen girl, MMM+/g(11), first, preg, gangbang, non-cons, cons

story_intro: A widowed missionary takes his three young daughters with him as he seeks to penetrate the unreached jungles of the Amazon region to spread his strict gospel. After the girls become separated from their father, they are taken in by a native tribe who have never seen such exotic white skin, golden hair, and blue eyes. Although the sisters are treated very well, Ruth becomes an offering to a god who uses the vessel of her barely ripening body to create a new leader for the tribe.


story_language: English




Fertility Rites, part 1

Written by madvlad


	Swatting at one of the endless mosquitos on the river, Ruth turned her head to make sure that Faith wasn't leaning too far over the edge of the boat. The four year-old wasn't - yet. But she was close enough to the precarious balance point for Ruth to grasp her youngest sister's t-shirt and ease her back into the relative safety of the boat.

	Slumped next to Ruth on the rough wooden plank that constituted a bench was her other sister Charity. She had long since lost her curiosity for the hot, muggy jungle on either side of the river. The water was still aside from the rippled wake of the boat's sole outboard motor. In the rear of the vessel, the girls' father, Joseph, steered their way into God-knows-where.

	That, of course, was Joseph's goal. Four months earlier, he had buried his wife and the girls' mother in the red-brown soil of the missionary station. At least that place had been somewhat civilized with electricity and some rudimentary plumbing. But the man who had brought his family to this place on the border of the South American wilderness had been restless to plunge deeper into the unmapped places despite the urging of the other missionaries not to be so reckless.

	Joseph's wife, although supportive of her husband's moving their family from the suburbs of Davenport, Iowa to this nearly nameless place, had firmly halted his plans to leave the outpost in favor of establishing a new church among the people who had never heard the word of God.

	When she fell gravely ill with fever, he prayed for her recovery. And when she died instead, he took it as a sign that his shackles had been lifted and he was now free to go forth. Others at the outpost had offered to care for the girls if he insisted on his adventure. They would even send the trio back to the States at the church's expense so they could be with family there.

	But Joseph would not hear of it. His daughters would become his assistants in bringing about the change in people's souls. Faith may have been too young to be useful yet, but at least Charity, at age seven, could perform some chores. And eleven year-old Ruth was old enough to keep her sisters in line while Joseph contemplated the mysteries of God and his own purpose in His service.

	Her blue eyes scanning the skies ahead, Ruth made a decision to risk her father's ire.

	"Dad," she called, interrupting his thoughts. "It looks like storms ahead. She we find a place to wait it out?"

	Joseph pursed his lips in a prelude to chastising the girl when he noted the darkening skyline before them. Like the natives in these parts, storms had a habit of appearing on short notice and behaving savagely. Grunting his acknowledgement, he revved the motor above the optimal fuel-conserving speed before finding a clearing on the right side of the river bank after a few minutes.

	Driving the boat onto the muddy bank, he saw Ruth lead her sisters off the boat to lighten its weight. After joining them on the bank, he pulled the boat further up and tied one of its ropes to a nearby tree. A tent designed for quick set-up was promptly set up before he and the girls crowded inside with a few essentials from the boat.

	When the storm hit, the tent grew dim on the inside, making the blonde heads of his daughters almost glow. As water and wind lashed at the thin fabric outside, Charity and Faith huddled against Ruth while Joseph read aloud from the bible. During times like these, he preferred the darker passages from the Old Testament or sometimes Revelations instead of the more comforting psalms or the Gospels.

	Feeling her little sisters quaking with fear against her, Ruth felt resentment toward her father grow as he continued to read with mount ing enthusiasm. Of course he would be goaded by the storm and their misery. With their mother gone, the man's strictness came to full bear - no digital music for Ruth and no toys - not even stuffed animals for comfort - for the little ones. These were tools of idleness and distraction, he sternly lectured.

	He acted so righteous but everything now was only about him and his quest for holiness, Ruth more frequently fumed. And he'd be damned if he was going to let a teddy bear get in his way. But Ruth found herself damning him with greater frequency.

	With unease, she felt the ground beneath the tent floor shifting as widening rivulets of water plowed trenches in the softening ground. The wind buffeting them grew louder and suddenly the tent lurched.

	Charity and Faith screamed and Ruth was pretty sure that she was doing the same. There was no longer and floor or walls to the tent as it tumbled. She could hear her father-s voice; unable to discern the words but registering the disapproval in his tone at their behavior.

	We're just kids, she thought. With no mother, without a real father, and get thrown around in a storm in the middle of nowhere. Everything became dark and jumbled as the tent material wrapped around them. Ruth desperately clung to one of each sister's hands as up and down no longer had any meaning in the maelstrom.

	When at last they were no longer thrown about, the sisters huddled together in the tangle of the tent. Ruth didn't know where their father was but none of the girls was calling for him. After the storm was through with them, they lay still, exhausted by their ordeal. All of them fell asleep and it was sometime later that Ruth was awakened by something prodding her leg through the tent material.

	It had to be their father. No doubt this as all the girls' fault because they hadn't prayed hard enough. Unable to see, Ruth wormed her way through the tangle of material until she felt the edge of an unzipped tent flap. First she helped Charity through before following Faith out. Both of her sisters were completely silent and when she was clear of the ruined tent, Ruth understood why.

	Surrounding them were men in loincloths with strange patters of tattoos and body paint adorning their brown skin. Ruth's eyes darted about for any sign of their father but found none. Then she returned her focus to the spear heads pointed at them.

	Someone else Ruth's age (or even an adult) might have not noticed everything that she did. But having spent her recent years often in the company of various indigenous people, she was able to read other things once her initial shock was gone.

	The main thing was how they held the spears. Their arms were bent with the elbows close to the body; a defensive position as opposed to elbows out or the spears held overhead for a more potentially offensive stance. Looking past the spears, she saw the wariness in their faces, not belligerence.

	When another man approached, she saw the others take note. He, too, was only wearing a loin cloth but Ruth suspected that his body decorations and perhaps even the top knot in his hair signified that he had some kind of authority. She had seen other natives show deference to their leaders and now was no different.

	Sweeping his eyes over the three girls, the newcomer said something that sounded like a command from its town. The spear heads withdrew, rising until they pointed overhead as the other men relaxed.

	Once his men eased their weapons to a non-threatening position, Honcta examined the three gifts from the storm more closely. With golden hair and eyes the hue of blue topaz, they were truly meant for holiness. Their skin was truly a wonder - lighter gold than their hair but also white as water foam in places where their strange attire shifted to reveal this.

	As chief, he knew of white people through visions and the legends. He had never met any before but understood the significance of the timing. He was reaching a middle age; the time when he should be counseling the one who would succeed him as chief. While he had three sons of his loins, fine young men all, they were not of the proper stock to be chief. Only Cinxu, the Father God, could sire a chief.

	There had been no signs at the temple as to who would be chosen as Cinxu's vessel for the next chief. But now Honcta felt the decision in his blood - the blood he had inherited from Cinxu himself. Like the others, the oldest gold-white girl had her garments soaked so that they clung to her. Honcta could see the tiny swollen buds on her chest that meant she was entering the first phases of womanhood. She was still a child to be sure, but she would be a pure vessel.

	The other two would also serve well. It had been many years since Tlactu, the Hunting God, had sired cubs to serve as hunting guides for the tribe. Existing in the form of a Jaguar, Tlactu needed newness but had made his rejection of earlier offerings quite plainly.

	And then there was Aplexco. With the gold-white girls here, would others of their kind come? In his dream-visions, Honcta was aware of the metal birds they sent in the air to see everything. There were other metal birds that flew even higher at places where even air couldn't reach. And had not their Trickster God played his games with the metal birds? Had he not made them see endless vegetation and pristine mountains where his people's stone city and temple were built? Aplexco, too, required his reward.

	Something touched Honcta's leg and he looked down.

	Faith had suddenly moved before Ruth could react. She was an inquisitive and playful child; adorable to many but sternly disapproved by their now-missing father. Now Faith scampered over to the top-knotted man with no sense of fear. Poking his leg, the little girl gave him a grin full of baby teeth.

	"Hi!" she giggled as the other tribesmen stared.

	The large man bent down slowly and carefully to bring his face closer to Faith's.

	"Haii," he solemnly intoned.

	Laughing, Faith hugged his leg; signalling that everyone had new friends.

	Ruth was glad when the men slowed their pace for her as they walked along the twisting jungle paths. Charity and Faith were carried by two of the men. Charity was often the quiet one and now she simply stared at the greenery and fauna of the deep wilds in wonder. The animals in particular held her attention as she spied them in the trees and among the cover of ferns and other plants on the jungle floor.

	Faith, on the other hand, had plenty to say to her recently-met pals. That they only responded with uncomprehending smiles and head movements mattered not and she had a grand time on her jungle trek.

	Suddenly, the jungle ended and Ruth found herself walking on a road paved with slat white stones. Ahead was some sort of outdoor market bustling with people and beyond that were some towering edifices of stone. In the distance was a steep mountain with a very elaborate building seemingly carved into its face.

	Seeing the strange girls, people around them crowded to get a better look; men and women of all ages and even children. Amazed as she had been with the city, Ruth found it embarrassing to now be the one whom everyone found fascinating. Seeing one boy about her age staring at her, Ruth was glad her t-shirt had mostly dried in the jungle. Although she had little development on her chest, she had discovered that her modest growths had been on display when her soaked shirt had been clinging to her.

	She hadn't shown any indication of growing there when her mother fill ill. She remembered the day when her mother was already bedbound and near the end. Ruth had still been completely flat but had an intimate conversation with her mother about changes she would soon be experiencing in her body over the next few years and some of the preparations they should make.

	A week later, her mother was gone and a month later Ruth turned eleven. And there was no way that Ruth could approach her father about the eventuality of needing a training bra - even after she began to blossom a month after her birthday.

	The impromptu parade made its way to a plaza before the great stone building in the mountain. At least thirty men poured from the doorways of the place wearing long, colorful robes that stayed open in the front. Several of the elders broke off and conversed with the man in charge. It took no great insight for Ruth to know that she and her sisters were the topic of discussion and she had a pretty good idea that she was looking at priests from a temple. 

	Although she didn't understand the language, she did learn some names. The leader of jungle party was Honcta and the man Ruth assumed to be the head priest was called Xem.

	An agreement had been made and then several priests took each girl separately by the hand. They were gentle and spoke soothingly in their language, conveying that there was nothing to fear. Still, Ruth was uneasy when it was clear that she and her sisters were to be separated.

	Faith suddenly stopped and pointed to a group of small children around her age. Both the boys and the girls, being so young, went about without even a loincloth. Ruth didn't seem it odd since Faith had little sense of modesty herself.

	"Can I play?" she asked, pointing a finger at the group.

	Her gesture was good enough and the priests attending her stepped away. As Ruth entered the temple, she saw Faith, who had just freed herself of her shirt, shouting and running with the other happy tykes while other adults - parents? - watched with amusement as the native children quickly fit in with the strange visitor.

	Honcta chuckled as he saw the little one romping about. Like the children of his own people, she was happiest when naked. This was good and the chief was pleased to let her have her fun. One of the women had gathered the girl's clothing for purposes Honcta neither knew nor cared. She wouldn't need them anymore, especially when it came time for her purpose to be fulfilled.

	The middle one was being prepared for her service, which could wait a few days. Although the urgency wasn't as severe, Honcta hoped the priests' work would be suitable. But the eldest needed to be ready tonight.

	It was the last night of the waxing moon still at one corner. Curved like Cinxu's cock, the blade of the moon would have intercourse with the sky until the moon grew until it was full and round with life.

	The drink tasted funny and it made Charity feel even funnier. She felt sluggish and heavy as she was carefully stripped and weakly protested as her panties were taken down to show all of the men her kitty. Led to a bed, she saw a huge array of white slivers - needles carved from bone - laid out on woven mats.

	More men brought in bowls of steaming liquid and Charity saw the colors of black and yellow and tan in them. She was given more to drink from a gourd before being laid on the bed. One of the priests swept his fingers over her as he chanted. It felt kind of nice, even when he touched her in places where he shouldn't.

	His hands were still moving around her body but the touches seemed strangely distant. She felt a poke when the first needle was inserted into her chest and she whimpered. When the next went in, she barely felt it at all. Looking at the large array of needles waiting on the mats, she wondered how many of them she would really feel at all.

	Ruth was comfortable in the chamber where she was taken and fed. Alone, her thoughts drifted. Her father was nowhere to be seen and she idly wondered when he would show up. He would not be happy to see her and Charity and Faith living comfortably among the heathens but that was his problem. No, she'd catch hell from him about it so it was her problem as well.

	Sighing, she gave her father no more thought. There would be nothing she could do about his reaction whenever he arrived. At least her sisters seemed happy. She wasn't sure where Charity was; just somewhere in the temple. But the priests with Charity had seemed just as kind as the ones who had had escorted her. And a half-naked Faith had already been playing with some of the local kids, laughing and running, when Ruth saw her last. Much to their father's disapproval, Faith could always be counted on to find some fun.

	A trio of women entered the room carrying baskets. Speaking in almost musical tones, they surrounded Ruth and began to remove her clothing. At first, Ruth was a little shy but their manner was gentle and her clothes were pretty muddy from the mishap in the tent.

	When her shirt was removed, Ruth had a brief flash of fear that they would laugh as the modest swells of her barely sprouting breasts. But they only continued to smile and speak as they touched her exotic white skin. It was her panties that amused them the most. Just plain white cotton but they had never seen such a thing. When one of them held them up and stretched the elastic waistband out and in repeatedly, Ruth joined the others in laughing.

	After a servant arrived carrying a pot of warm water, the women dipped cloths into it and proceeded to give Ruth a sponge bath. Her long tresses were also washed and carefully combed until it was glossy. It was clear from their actions that Ruth was meant to simply stand still as she was tended to.

	The hands on her were soft, almost loving as she was cleansed and caressed. Now the eleven year-old's tiny breasts received attention as they were lightly kneaded. Ruth felt her face growing warm; partly from having her newly developing femaleness touched so intimately for the first time and partly from the pleasure the fondling produced.

	Another hand went between Ruth's legs. There was no sign yet of the hair her mother had told her would one day begin to appear in silky strands at first. The fingers were skilled, manipulating the preteen's quim. One digit explored the girl's virgin slit, grazing the lips of unsullied entrance before finding the sensitive nubbin above.

	Ruth felt an odd heaviness deeper into her sex as if some exotic fruit, saturated with juice, was urgently ripening in there. Something tingled and the girl gasped as the fruit seemed to leak. When the woman held her finger up, the tip shone with liquid. The women laughed kindly at the girl's first arousal and Ruth felt some sort of kinship with them she didn't quite understand.

	Next, flowers were woven in her hair. More flowers, strung in garland, were hung around her neck in a way that barely covered the little mounds on Ruth's chest. A second band was tied around her waist with several flowered vines dangling in front to cover her vulva.

	Satisfied with Ruth's attire, one woman produced a small clay pot of oil. Raising the garland around Ruth's neck, the woman rubbed oil into the skin of the girl's small breasts. This made her nipples stiffen which pleased the woman. Ruth felt slightly disappointed when the oiled fingers withdrew and the flowers were once again in place.

	When the flowers over her crotch were lifted, Ruth's sex heated in anticipation. Then came more oil; first spread over her smooth mons and then more heavily in her little cleft. Unaccustomed to this, Ruth produced more prepubescent juices that mixed with the oil anointing her intimate place.

	With her flowers once again in place, Ruth was led to an antechamber where Honcta and several priests were waiting. The chief was quite pleased with her appearance. Now the women stayed behind as Honcta and the priests led Ruth along the stone-paved main avenue of the city. Crowds were everywhere, cheering and throwing flowers.

	A breeze occasionally tugged at the garland around her neck, showing onlookers flashes of the youngster's developing breasts. Ruth was mindful of the flora covering her crotch but was keenly aware that only a string ran around the back like a belt - there was nothing keeping her pert little buttocks from view. It was embarrassing that everyone could see her bare butt although this discomfort faded as the people were not cheering because of that. They were just happy in general.

	After leaving the city, Ruth was taken through the jungle until she reached a shrine of some sort. A large statue of a man, stylized in ways similar to other ancient South American cultures, stood in the center of a paved circle. Where he might have had a loin cloth was a rather large phallus jutting straight out. Where the rest of the statue was made of light gray stone, the end of the phallus was stained with something dark. Seeing such an obvious and overly endowed representation of male hood made her blush.

	As Honcta chanted to the statue, the priests tied thongs around Ruth's ankles and wrists. When the garlands of flowers were cut and removed from her body, she protested her nakedness in front of these men. They only responded by gently shushing her before lifting her and carrying her to the statue.

	Lifted until she was pressed against it, Ruth was unable to break free of the firm grips of the men. They continued to speak soothingly to her as the thongs trailing from her wrists were tied together behind the statue's neck.

	She might have dangled that way but the cords on her ankles were similarly tied around the statue's back, spreading her legs widely and pulling her closely against the stone with her hairless cunny pressed to it. The phallus was several inches below and seemed no threat to contact her privates.

	Now the priests sung a low melody while Honcta's incantations came to a close. Finished, the men turned and disappeared and left the frightened girl tied to the statue. There were none of the usual jungle sounds as the day darkened into twilight before the sky went black with the crescent of the moon hanging above in wait.

	Something moved.

	Ruth blinked.

	What happened?

	Her head was level with the statue's upper chest and again she felt the movement; pushing her outward and then relaxing to draw her in. She realized she was getting used to the dark as her eyes could see everything so clearly. It would have bene fascinating if the circumstances were different.

	The motion cycled a few more times before the understanding reached Ruth with a touch of horror.

	The statue was breathing.

	Still made of stone, the arms moved fluidly as the hands rested on either side of Ruth's ribcage. She sensed the strength of the creature and knew he could crush her ribs as easily as she could crumple a paper ball. But the hands only held her fast as he lifted her. The bindings holding her ankles scraped up the statue's back until she was face to face and found the eyes no longer stone but of pure white, glowing energy.

	The mouth moved and hot, moist air washed over Ruth's face as the creature spoke in the language of the tribe. Yet Ruth could now understand him.

	"I am Cinxu and I will bestow a new chief upon the tribe."

	Something else moved below and Ruth sickly understood it was the helmet-shaped head of the phallus as scraped over the oiled skin of her mound before resting at her slit. The girl's hairless labia were splayed apart as the thing nudged against her pristine sex.

	On several occasions in the past, Ruth had witnessed natives having uninhibited sex out in the open which drove her father into apoplectic sermons on the spot. A month ago, Ruth and her sisters were watching one such event as more tribespeople came out to see what the ruckus was about.

	Assuming that the animated white man was positively excited about witnessing sex, they broke into couples and starting more coital sessions. There was one man without a partner but he compensated with a boy about Ruth's age. The lad was bent over, mumbling encouragement as the adult's spit-lubed shaft entered his rectum. Soon, the boy was getting heartily buggered and made eye contact with Ruth.  He tilted his head in a way that suggested she should join in but then her enraged father took his children away from this place of savage iniquity.

	Faith, always with an innocent remark that made an awkward situation a bit funny, kept looking back and pointing.

	"I want to play, too," she insisted while Ruth desperately tried to keep from laughing.

	Only now Ruth wasn't laughing as that huge thing below pressed harder against her genitals. There was no way something that big could go into her but she didn't even want him to try.

	"Please..." she gasped. "My name is Ruth and I'm only eleven and..."

	With a rumbling exhalation of triumph, Cinxu shoved the preteen virgin down onto his prick.

	At the temple, Honcta and Xem sat in vigil on one of the high balconies overlooking the jungle. Upon hearing the shrill screams of the girl emanating from the inky wilderness, the men sighed and smiled at their people's providence.

	Ruth's thrashed and shrieked as her hymen was brutally sundered by the massive prick. Then her eyes rolled wildly a she felt the girth of the hardness stretching her impossibly as it penetrated her body. Liquid was pouring from her assaulted young cunt and the girl sickly understood her blood was adding to the dark stains of others before her who had been forced to ride the creature's stone member.

	"Generations of virgins like you," Cinxu spoke in her mind. "Young girls who I made ripen into the mothers of chiefs as I will do for you this night."

	He spoke in the native tongue but now Ruth understood him clearly. Remembering bits of Honcta's chants, she now knew that he had been declaring her as the vessel of the next chief and consort of Cinxu.

	Having been preternaturally stretched to accept the phallus with width and length, Ruth's cunny was now ready for the sex to begin. The friction of smooth stone against her taut cuntal lining made her lubricate copiously. Where there should have been incredible agony was only arousal that threatened to crush her sanity.

	In a span of a minute, the eleven year-old's virginal pussy had been transformed into the sopping receptacle of flesh fit for a god's pleasure. Snugly enveloping Cinxu's cock in warm flesh, the deflowered preteen served her new master as she was pulled and pushed on the massive member.

	On the outside, her oiled breasts were ground against the creature's chest making Ruth's nipples harden almost painfully. She relished the agitation just as her stiffened clit similarly scraped against Cinxu's stone evidence. Panting, Ruth took this and the pulverizing thrusts in her prepubescent twat until they joined and exploded into her first orgasm.

	But there was no relief, no pause. Cinxu worked the girl, using her clasping, childish snatch to take the full brunt of his mighty heaves. All Ruth could do throughout the night was to moan and cum endlessly. As the copulation increased in intensity, the leather thong tying Ruth's ankles to the creature finally broke. It changed nothing, though, as she still clung to him with her legs.

	As dawn approached, another preternatural effect of this coupling occurred when one of the girl's ovaries, still meant to be a year away from her first menstruation, surrendered an egg to the god. Sensing the accelerated travel, Cinxu slammed his cock into his little consort; making her climax tear at her while he erupted inside her body at last.

	Heavy loads of sperm raced for the child's egg and when it was taken as she had been, both Ruth and Cinxu were aware it. Her heart racing, Ruth mentally called out to her departed mother as she felt the bond of maternity with her.

	Honcta, Xem, and some other priests found the statue as it had been the day before, only with still-fresh fluids on its phallus gleaming in the sunrise. The golden-white girl lay naked in front of the statue with her arms and legs spread; the broken cords trailing uselessly from her wrists and ankles. Between her slender, sex-stained thighs, the eleven year-old's hairless pussy oozed the unneeded remnants from the god as the new life formed inside of her.

	Carried nude on the shoulders of the priests, Ruth returned to the city with even greater fanfare than when she left. As multitudes gathered to watch, she was laid upon an altar outside the temple. It was round on top except for a gap cut into one area. When Ruth was placed with her legs open and on each side of the gap, she understood the intent.

	Honcta was the first, stepping close to the girl's crotch with his dark penis ready for her. Now that Cinxu had impregnated her, he offered her supple young body for the pleasure of his devout followers. The embryo inside her womb would be impervious the physical demands of sex that would now consume many of Ruth's waking hours.

	Just as the god had worked her body to make it stretch for him, he had also altered it to return to form. Honcta could testify to this as he slid his prick between the bald white lips of the eleven year-old's cunt. Her smallness resisted him for a moment before her succulent little twat tube expanded to let him penetrate her. But the prepubescent channel compressed around him, threatening to boil his cock with its hot juices.

	With long, heavy strokes, the chief fucked the preteen who carried his half-brother and successor in her otherwise unready womb. Peering at Ruth's flat belly, he could picture the tiny formation of life inside so close to the head of his dick as it bore against the girl's cervix. Ramming his meat into the youngster, he enjoyed his father's gift while the golden-haired little mother-to-be writhed her way to a climax. Nearly fifteen minutes later, a boiling load of jism was also inside the girl; Honcta's greeting to the next chief.

	After Honcta withdrew, there was a pause before the next man took his turn. Several women approached and put their fingers in Ruth's draining snatch. With the chief's semen and cuntal fluids of Cinxu's chosen vessel on their digits, they wet their own quims with it to anoint themselves with Cinxu's and Ruth's blessing.

	Once they were done, Xem, the high priest, worked his prick into the gooey snugness of the eleven year-old honeypot. Rutting between the smoothness of the girl's thighs, he told her that she would service every priest in the temple around the clock as part of this festival with the city's women taking the fluids from her twat to grace their own. Then he told her that there were over two hundred priests.

	Ruth's cunny twitched as her next climax began to coil. This was going to be an eventful four days.

	
THREE MONTHS LATER

	On Ruth's slender frame, her pregnancy showed early on. This was especially true when she was on her hands and knees - a frequent position - as she was now. The firm swelling in her lower belly hung down while one of the city's craftsmen grunted while sluicing his prick in and out of the tight wetness of the girl's throbbing cunt.

	Today was a festival day honoring one of the city's many craft guilds. So today, the members of that guild joined various temple priests in fucking the little temple concubine. It was how they showed reverence to her, by performing the act of pleasure and procreation with the one who carried Cinxu's next offspring.

	Ruth very much enjoyed the gratitude of the city folk she received every day in hard thrusts and sticky residue that made her orifices tingle. A large man - even larger than Honcta stepped in front of her and knelt. The preteen happily gobbled the young priest's generous offering of dick, taking into her throat while her lips grasped the sliding member. As her tongue caressed him, she faintly tasted her own cunny on him. Ah yes, he had used her there last night at near the end of the falconers' festivals.

	Like the others here, Ruth loved the constant stream of festivals.

	Shortly after the marathon welcome festival the morning after her impregnation, Ruth had met Honcta's mother. The woman could have passed for being decades younger. She took Ruth under her care, acting as a teacher to tell the girl about the culture and religion of this place. Best of all, Ruth learned that the people's carnal adoration for her would continue on after she gave birth.

	Honcta's mother was still venerated in all sorts of ways as a temple concubine. Only those few chosen by Cinxu would carry this honor.

	Ruth was also tended to by a half dozen young teens who served as her handmaidens. Her servants vied and often gambled for the first morning task of waking their mistress. For Ruth, each day (assuming she hadn't spent the night servicing the faithful at another holiday celebration) began with the warm lips and the skilled tongue of a thirteen or fourteen year-old girl between her legs as the little blonde had her bald twat lovingly cleaned until she came.

	After the craftsman creamed Ruth's cunny, an elderly priest cackled as he knelt behind the girl and grabbed her smooth and creamy ass cheeks to pull them apart. Since her cock-stuffed head was facing forward, Ruth could only hear him but could tell who he was by his laugh.

	Had he stayed silent, she would have known his identity from his deformed penis. It was bent and slightly twisted with a few bumps on the surface. It was not pretty to look out but it was beautiful to feel when it was inside her. Ruth's asshole, lubricated by earlier couplings, stretched open as the hard, gnarled flesh plunged into her luscious young bottom. The rasping of his horrid tool made the youngster's empty snatch drool and add to the mess coating her crotch and thighs.

	Sodomized both in front and in the rear, Ruth hummed happily until the young priest's dick throbbed in her throat. Sometimes, she preferred to pull her head back so she could taste the semen being pumped into her but the man behind her was not allowing such backward movement. Just as the younger priests balls were emptied, the older one's deformed cock became filling the eleven year-old's rectum with hot jism.

	Two more craftsmen took her next, enjoying her mouth and plugging her bubbling quim. The one behind her reached forward and under to play with her little breasts while he fucked her. They were still very small and tender but she was told they would grow with milk for the new chief in the coming months.

	Ruth thought about her rigidly righteous father. These were times when she wished he did return. He could see his young daughter gravid with a pagan god's child while heathens constantly used her in every wicked way.  With a simple command, she could have him restrained and made to watch while she was debauched. The idea accelerated her next orgasm.


Copyright (c) 2019 madvlad

madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm
























This story 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.


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