Jezreal

Jezreal's Idol Pastime

by Jordan Baker

© 1988

Eyes closed, Jezreal rested, allowing the scent of jasmine and hyacinth to enter her being. Running her hands over the smooth flesh of her breasts, the priestess allowed herself a moment of vanity. Even with an invading army camped at the city gates, her people had been unable to tear their eyes away from her body during today's assembly. The tall, willowy blonde with her milk-white skin and massive breasts was an anomaly in this tiny Mediterranean land. The lust with which she filled men's souls had been a key factor in her rise to power.

Scantily clad, seemingly in a state of perpetual arousal, Jezreal commanded crowds each time she spoke of the cult of Priapus. Improving her lot from pleasure slave to queen had been a simple task with the god's help. He'd demanded nothing more of her than any mortal master she'd served ... sex on demand and unflinching loyalty.

Her hand slipped beneath the water to fondle her sex as Jezreal remembered her introduction to the god, kneeling naked before the bronze idol, worshiping its penis with her mouth, polishing the cold metal phallus with her breasts ...

Jezreal found the bronze statue in an abandoned villa outside of Rome. The owner had been dead for decades, convicted and executed as part of an Ophite conspiracy against the emperor Valens. It was said the Ophites practiced orgiastic rites and worshiped a demonic force. Jezreal knew little of such matters. The ruins simply offered a place of refuge from the humiliation of slavery. Jezreal loved to wander among the marble columns and mosaic tiles, dreaming that someday such a palace would be hers.

Those dreams began to come true the day she found the idol deep in the recesses of a secret temple beneath the villa's foundation. "At first, the huge bronze statue had terrified her. Standing over eight feet tall, the idol sported the head of a ram, the well-muscled body of a man and the shaggy loins and legs of a lion. The most startling feature, however, was the enormous phallus extending from the idol's crotch. The creature's penis was the length and width of Jezreal's forearm.

If the stories of the Ophites were true, she realized, the conspirators -- men and women -- had coupled with this thing to show their loyalty.

"Great Priapus," she whispered, superstitiously touching the head of the idol's penis. Immediately, a faint tingling sensation raced through her arm, burning its way into the base of her neck. Silent words began forming in her mind -- words she realized were not her own.

"Ah, you have found me at last," she sensed the idol saying. "It has been far too long, little one. Free me from the dust and tarnish of time and greatness shall be yours."

Releasing the penis, she had retreated into the silence of the temple. Tentatively, Jezreal again touched the statue's member, again feeling a slight electric shock at the contact. Removing her hand, Jezreal found it had left a slight mark on the tarnish of the idol, almost as if touching the statue was enough to cleanse it of the ravages of time.

Stripping her toga, she began rubbing furiously at the statue's chest, but felt nothing and the tarnish seemed impenetrable. It was only when she reached the idol's belly that she felt the shock again. It was electrifying, a sharp, almost painful burst of energy jolting through her left nipple. Choking off a cry, she leaped back, rubbing her aching aureole. But there, on the tip of Bacchus' penis, was another small spot which had been cleansed of its tarnish.

This, Jezreal realized, was the sacrifice her new master demanded. Steeling herself, she reached forward and began stroking the idol's cock with her bare hands, gritting her teeth against the vibrations lancing through her arms. There was no pain, she realized, the vibrations were simply unnerving, warm and somewhat erotic.

Eventually, as more of the grime fell away, she began to enjoy the feeling, the cool feel of time-roughened bronze rubbing between her breasts teased her nipples to erection. Squeezing them together tighter around her new master's cock, the slave girl rocked her body against the statue, moaning as her sex became damp with arousal.

"At this point, the slave girl leaned forward and flicked the head of Priapus' penis with her tongue, unleashing even stronger vibrations. Gasping, Jezreal felt a pulse of arousal spreading through her body. Now fondling the statues' balls, she tried to take the head of its penis in her mouth, carefully working her tongue beneath it.

Finding she could fit no more than a few inches of the bronze cock into her mouth, Jezreal compensated by pressing her breasts even more tightly against each side of the tool and wriggling her body obscenely as she sucked the head of the idol's penis. The feel of cold, vibrating metal dancing between her orbs soon sent the slave into a fit of passion and she climaxed repeatedly before falling to her knees in exhaustion.

The idol's penis now glowed with a soft, bronze light as Jezreal gathered her clothing and race back to her human master's villa.

It took over three months, but she eventually brought the statue back to its full glory by licking and massaging every inch of the metal figure. Hours were spent dangling from its penis, hanging onto it with her hands while licking beneath its metal balls and tonguing the cleft of its buttocks. In the end, the statue was immaculate, gleaming darkly in the grotto with a life force that resonated through every sinew of Jezreal's body. Kneeling naked before her idol, the slave offered herself as a final sacrifice.

"Great Priapus," she whispered, her voice choked with passion, "I kneel before your greatness and beg permission to serve you."

Then, without understanding why, Jezreal crawled forward and kissed the idol's feet. As her tongue caressed the cold metal, another jolt fired through the slave's body, stronger than the others, and sparks of light exploded throughout the room, dancing like fireflies before coalescing into a solid, golden halo around the statue of Priapus. Dark laughter filled the chambers, as Jezreal trembled at its feet.

"You have awakened me, mortal," the god intoned. "You have brought me back from the emptiness of the void to the land of sensation ... even if I may only experience it through this metal body. For that, I am grateful. What would you ask of me?"

Trembling with fear, Jezreal met her reflection in the bronze claws of the creatures feet and whispered, "I wish to be your servant. I wish only to please you my lord."

"Again, she was rewarded by the idol's amused laughter.

"For months, you have teased my immobile form with your bare flesh, wench. You wish to please me? Open yourself to me."

"At first, Jezreal hadn't understood the idol's meaning. Then, raising her eyes until they rested upon the upthrust rod of the statue's penis, she gasped as realization dawned.

"But, master," she stammered, "I could never ..."

"Mount me or begone, but torment me no further," a voice shouted inside her head.

Rising shakily to her feet, the slave girl obeyed. Clambering clumsily up the statue's body, she found clasped her hands behind its neck, pressing her breasts firmly against its chest as its penis thrust between her thighs. Jezreal wriggled her body, massaging his sex with her thighs while arching her back to offer her nipples to the idol's mouth. The chill of a sculpted tooth grazing her nipples sent her soaring toward a climax. Humping her body to the end of the idol's prick, she opened herself and took its head inside her sex. Again, her breasts grazed the beast's open mouth and she screamed as another jolt shot through her, causing her to jerk spasmodically as her body became completely impaled on the giant organ.

She remembered screaming in pain and pleasure, fury and desire and humping her body savagely against the phallus until everything became a blur or orgasm and revelation.

She awoke the next morning still impaled upon the idol's phallus. Untangling herself, Jezreal stood before the statue of Priapus, examining it once more. Instinctively, she leaned forward and cleaned the phallus with her mouth, drying it between the soft mounds of her breasts.

Something was different, she realized as she finished. Even though she was no longer touching the statue, she could feel its presence in her mind. It was then that Jezreal realized the spirit of Priapus would be with her always.

It had been a mutually beneficial arrangement. She provided the banished god with the stimulation he needed to remain connected to the material plane. She even enjoyed the sex.

In return, Priapus guided Jezreal and helped her advance through the social strata of the Roman empire. Her human master mysteriously chose to free and then marry Jezreal. When he died shortly thereafter, she inherited all his estates as well as his place in the forum.

Her youth, beauty and riches had made it easy to promote the new philosophy she had discovered, leading still more nubile young women to worship Priapus. Using their bodies and talents, it was an easy matter for these new converts to influence their lovers in favor of Jezreal and her religious school. After all, any religion which taught women to be submissive and constantly hungry for sex was a wonderful institution as far as the average Roman was concerned.

Her meteoric rise had continued until Jezreal became high priestess and queen of her own city state. She'd used the resources she gained to build her new temple exactly to the specifications of Priapus. Tonight, she was to perform the ceremony which would bring him to life as a flesh and blood creature once and for all.

But now, her beloved city was under siege by the Janissaries, an army of mercenary slaves with no desire for women. It was rumored that the emperor had them castrated in their youth to make them less susceptible to temptation. Others whispered of rampant homosexuality in their ranks. Whatever the reason, the army of 20,000 men camped outside her gates had resisted the feminine wiles of Jezreal and her priestesses. If the city did not surrender, they would destroy it at sunrise. Ironically, this was the same moment chosen for Priapus' return to the world of physical beings. Even now, soaking in her perfumed bath in preparation for the ritual, Jezreal knew this would be the end of her dreams. She would awaken Priapus, slake his desire with her body and then die beneath the tide of the Janissary attack, leaving her master a cold, metal statue once again until someday another woman would discover him and reawaken the god.

This would be their final and greatest coupling.

She paid homage to her god by remembering the beginning. Still wet from the bath, she rubbed her oiled body over every inch of the idol, reveling in the feel of the cool, contoured bronze against her skin. She licked and sucked and fondled every detail of Priapus until the light from the morning star gleamed through a hole in the temple ceiling and softly caressed the idol's forehead. For the first time, Priapus moved.

Jezreal felt the metal body growing warm against her skin and great clawed hands buried themselves in her hair, drawing her mouth down to the idol's phallus. No longer metal, it tasted of the cinnamon and cloves she'd oiled her body with as she swallowed it. Softer now, it curved and sank deep into her throat, filling her mouth as her head bobbed furiously on the massive organ. That deep, dark laughter filled the room again, but this time it came from real lungs and echoed in her ears as well as her mind. Priapus lifted her from his cock and dropped her on her hands and knees on the altar, moving gracefully behind her to sink his phallus deep within her sex as his clawed hands squeezed and massaged her breasts.

Jezreal cried out as talon-like nails pricked her nipples as the god rolled them between his fingers. The massive cock burned within her as the priestess began grinding her hips back to meet her lover. Unbelievably, his cock seemed to be growing, filling Jezreal as they coupled.

His warm breath heated her throat as he sighed, "I have waited centuries for this, wench. We will do this for an eternity ... and I will fill you with my desire and my power ..."

The first thuds of the battering ram against the temple gates broke the god's train of thought.

"Don't stop," Jezreal moaned.

Cocking his head to one side, Priapus listened more intently to the thuds of the battering ram. His concentration broken, Priapus found himself losing control of his seed as the army's assault grew more furious.

"I can't do this with that noise distracting me," he snarled. "I'll be back."

With that, the god vanished, a dark figured flashing from the temple's tower to the main gate. Ripping the gates open, Priapus drew himself to his full, naked splendor and bellowed, "What do you want?" as he lost all self-control.

More than 20,000 Janissaries died in the blaze of divine energy which was released. It is written in the holy scrolls of Priapus that when his temple was threatened, the god had returned to vent his fury upon the attackers and destroyed them all in a blaze of light.

Some scholars feel this to be a mistranslation and that the proper phrasing should be, "Disturbed in his revels, Priapus opened the gates and came with a vengeance."

Satisfying himself that no living member of the army remained, Priapus returned to the temple and bowed low before his high priestess.

"You have awakened me and freed me from the bonds of the astral. Once more I walk as a god among mortal men in the material realm. What would you ask as your reward?"

Stepping forward, Jezreal stroked the creature's deflated penis and asked, "Umm, can we do that again?"


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