Feast of the chosen, p.7
Feast of the Chosen, page 7
Completed with their task, the four favored him with a knowing smile, fully aware of how much he enjoyed the waterfall. Also, fully aware of how much he was going to enjoy what came next. Hyun-joo flashed him the mildest, knowing wink, then reversed in place and walked away. All four did the same, though none of them could be said to be merely walking. They swished through the water with deliberately swaying hips, drawing his eye to their natural charms. They went slow, again giving him time to take in each of their strides and to savor how each was uniquely different even as they moved in carefully timed unity. They finished by placing the vases back on the corners, then spun down into their original kneeling posture to watch him leave the pool.
He waited until they were done with their dance. This wasn’t a tradition. It wasn’t even because he wanted to watch their naked movements until they came to a rest. It was one more measure of the balance they sought to achieve. They were doing this for him. They were making great efforts to be perfect for him. So, he gave them the respect they were due. He admired their every turn and every small gesture. Their choices were deliberate and planned. As would a connoisseur appreciating a fine ballet, he noticed the efforts they had made and found joy in them.
When the four had fully settled, only then did he move up the steps across from him and onto the circular dais beyond. It was not raised very high, but every element of the courtyard was meticulously designed to make this point the focal point. All sightlines were opened. None of the flora growing in the beds and pots were allowed to grow enough to interfere.
Toh Myung was waiting for him there. She was draped in a sensual variant of a hanbok. The front draped precisely with the V-neck leading to the crossed closing down her front. A large bow was the sole piece of fabric securing it closed. The drapery broadened into a voluminous skirt, though it in this case, it was clearly meant to fall away easily rather than contain her. Deep, ocean blue with subtle variations made it come alive in the courtyard’s soft light. The white bordering drew attention to the edges which in turn emphasized Myung’s every move. The complexity of the white lace border emulated the spray and foam that rippled along the top of waves on the sea.
Myung flowed into a deep curtsy, dipping her head down deeper than a traditional bow. She went painfully low, flowing through the motion like a swan. At the deepest point of that bow, she paused. Min-seo’s voice lulled into a long, simmering chant. Held. Held. Then, her voice stopped, giving free reign for Myung to speak. Despite the strain she must have felt for holding that squatted pose for so long there was no evidence of it in her voice. “Welcome home, Angae.”
Angae ached to release her. He knew she had to be feeling the burn in her legs. He swore this pose was held longer each time. The Devoted all had their input to this ceremony. He had often struggled to understand why they wanted this. Is it to make me realize how willing they are to suffer? To prove they are not weak? Maybe they want to show me what it means to see a loved-one suffer, and to know the desire of wanting to set them free? He didn’t know for certain. Every time he had asked, the Devoted would give him a sweet smile, touch him fondly and say that sometimes, a mystery was not meant to be solved.
He could not help but admire the athleticism and grace that it took. But no matter how deep his appreciation, as soon as that simple phrase was spoken, Angae moved as quickly as decorum allowed. He leaned in and kissed Myung sweetly on the forehead, the sign that she was released from her pose. He spoke the words he wanted them to believe, hence why he repeated them every time. This was his input, his choice in the ceremony. “In truth, I never left. My heart is always here.”
Without showing a single sign of the strain that must be in her thighs and calves after holding that curtsy for so long, Myung returned to a standing pose. Her lips flowed into a different sort of smile. One that was anticipating the next part of their dance. Her arms extended to each side, palms open and inviting. “Would you like to view our choice for this evening?”
Angae stepped forward into her personal space. Her arms folded in around him, alighting on his shoulders as he leaned in. His hands slipped up between their bodies, each taking hold of one end of the bow that was holding her garment closed. His lips drifted closer to her own. “You know I could never be disappointed, but I yearn to see where your creativity has taken you all. Who crafted this one?”
Myung’s flickered to the left side and a little higher, as if aiming her brief gaze to the second balcony. “Suh Hana. She’s always clever with sewing gauzy silk.” Her painted lips quirked with a teasing grin as she gave him the hint.
Murmuring approval at the mental image she conjured, he leaned in a little further and pressed his lips to hers. She responded with honest desire, crushing her mouth back against his. Their lips parted and tongues flashed against each other’s. He tasted a hint of blueberry, the essence she always wore. The Devoted did not often change, committing to their perfumes nigh religious resolve. He knew why. While he had made clear his intent to know them as individuals and ignore none of them, there were a 1,000 within that manse. Keeping to a certain spice and flavor kept each of them more firmly rooted in his memory. It was as much a gift for him as them. In this way, they were less likely to be forgotten. By associating each of them with his sense of smell, he was less likely to embarrass either them or himself by failing in recalling any of their names or preferences.
He had been a loving lord since they had all been wed to him. He had given them no reason to fear him. And yet… he continued to have that authority. How could they not worry when a single word from him might banish one of them from this place? Or… worse? Angae had never thought what terrible things he might do if he was a man of a darker heart. But did the fear of him gaining a different temperament linger in their hearts? It was a burden he never forgot. He could not falter. Not even for a heartbeat. If he became a monster for even a second, he was certain that he would never get a second chance to regain their absolute trust.
He had promised them. On that day, when they had joined their lives to his, he had promised that he would love and honor them all. He would not fail in that. Even if it took the span of their whole lives, he would prove worthy of their trust.
There was nothing even resembling fear in Myung’s kiss. Ardent. Passionate. Her whole body trembled at the contact as he ran a tongue over her lower lip, savoring that hint of blueberry she had painted herself with.
His breathing quickened. When it felt right to do so, Angae stepped back from her. A deliberate move, ending the kiss at the height of the heat between them. Leaving them both panting, he held tightly to the ends of that bow. The knot unraveled and the hanbok opened.
Angae stepped back to gain a more fulsome appreciation of the unveiling. A soft ruffle of curious whispers echoed around the courtyard. Only a few of them had been involved in the creation of what Myung wore, and only a few had aided in her getting dressed. The rest of them were getting their first look at what she had on. They had their own games revolving around guessing what the woman at the center of the dais would be wearing. There was a dozen being prepared at any given time, since they never had any idea how often he would be called away and return home to them.
Doing her part to aid in the reveal, Myung threw back her hands as they left his shoulders, expertly timed to let the decorative hanbok spill off her shoulders in one fluid motion. Two others, Eun-ji and Gyeong-hui were waiting in the shadows. Their attire was dark, similar to the others but woven in black, so they blended into the backdrop and didn’t spoil the singularity of the moment with the woman in the center. As nimble as ninjas, they intercepted the over-garment so that it never touched the ground. The hanbok was special, one that they all wore when holding that position, so they did not let it be sullied by touching the ground. They bore it backward and away for safe keeping.
Now standing in the center of the light, Myung struck a seductive pose. Her lithe frame was draped in the floating black silk of a baby-doll nightie. There were no straps; instead, thin elastic hugged around the top of her breasts and scooped under her arms. A web of pink threads woven among the black lace supported her breasts. Below the delicate mesh, the translucent black silk swayed about her, hanging loosely down to her upper thighs. Behind the gauzy satin veil, he could see every detail of her sensual body, as well as the sinfully small patch of lace that covered her sex connected only by thin strings that hugged to her form. As a final touch, she wore a black-lace garter belt. Trimmed in white, each one had a pink bow on the front which matched the colors from above. The garters weren’t holding up stockings but put there to draw his attention and swell his desires.
She was a feast for the senses, and Angae indulged himself. A small twitch of her mouth suggested a pleased smile was fighting to emerge on her lips, knowing how deeply her carefully prepared gift had struck him.
Padding forward on her bare feet, Myung sank to her knees in front of him. She did not need to ask his pleasure nor his will. His shaft stood out proudly before him, straining with every pulse of his supernaturally charged blood within and aching to merge with her in some way. Any way, so long as her heat was wrapped around him.
Leaning forward until it seemed her arms must surely flash out to catch her, Myung’s lips parted and stretched around his bulbous tip. The throbbing, plum-shaped head barely fit within her straining mouth, but she didn’t back away. Her tongue began to bathe the thick bulge of his flesh and the iron-hard shaft that began to enter behind it. He felt himself bump against the back of her throat, increasing the erotic pressure upon him. She couldn’t manage to take more than four inches of his bulging cock into her mouth. Even then, she looked overwhelmed as she knelt there before him, speared on the length of him, dribbles of tears running down her cheeks from fighting the reflex to gag. She sucked him, licking him as she drank the small spurts of precum that she had roused from him. She rocked back and forth, never letting his plump cockhead out past her lips as she worked the inches behind it in and out in expert fashion.
If Angae didn’t know what was to come next, he would have suggested that nothing could come closer to heaven than this.
But he did know, and his anticipation made him ache with longing.
As Myung continued her oral poetry upon him, two more of his Devoted approached from either side. They ascended the two small steps onto the slightly raised dais in silence. Both were naked, both to stoke his lust and so as not to compete with Myung’s lingerie. She was the rightful focus of this moment. They were the accents meant to add to this beautiful moment and take it to the next level.
Angae was in a haze as Ji-eun and Kyung-ja padded to him. Both were on the delicate side, both shy in all his encounters with them. By now, they had no reason to be shy around him, and yet it was their nature to be timid and to defer to the other women. They were perhaps the perfect choice to augment the bold woman thrusting her mouth onto his manhood on a hungry quest to feast on his essence.
Kyung-ja was perhaps a half-second ahead of her sister-Devoted, flowing to her knees with supple grace. She closed her eyes and placed a loving kiss on Angae’s thigh. The contact sent a shiver of desire through him, though he didn’t do anything to hurry her advance. The anticipation was killing him, and yet it was also so incredibly sweet. Her next kiss fell only just shy of her target, lapping with cute flickers of her tongue. Then, her tongue captured his right orb, sweeping it up to her lips where she began to suck softly upon it. Her tongue didn’t stop, reaching out to curl around his hanging flesh, eagerly adding tingling sensations beyond where her lips were kissing and lavishing their attention upon him.
Ji-eun followed the other woman’s lead. Her trail of kisses was slightly timid, inching inward and letting out gentle cooing noises as she crept further on. When she finally coaxed herself into mirroring Kyung-ja’s service, her shyness suddenly evaporated. Her eyes closed as well, reaching boldly out with her long tongue and stroking his ball with the pleasant rasp of her tongue. She managed to draw in the flesh around it, nibbling ever so softly with her teeth which sent a ripple of fire up through Angae’s senses, then soothing the fire with a sensual kiss of her lips.
Only by having repeated this ceremony did Angae know that this was not over. The glorious sight of the three beauties pressed in on his manhood was more than any man could dream possible, his mind was screaming at him.
He couldn’t see Su-bin gliding toward him from behind, but he knew she was there. As with the last two sister-Devoted, her slinky body was naked, covered only in light gooseflesh caused by the slight chill in the air and anticipation for her task. She settled behind him, reaching out with her two hands. Starting at his knees, she ran caresses up the back of his thighs by way of welcome. Shuffling forward, she got close enough that she could nestle her breasts up against the back of his legs, allowing him to feel the firm points of her nipples brushing over his skin.
Her palms filled with his firm flesh, taking a delighted moment to sample his muscles there. Feeling her interest, Angae flexed his buttocks with a fraction of his supernatural power. They became as unmoveable as stone to the woman, as solid as the statue that his physique already resembled. Teasing him a little, Su-bin sank her teeth into the thin layer of skin he left there on purpose. That much she could still do. Giggling at the love mark she left, she swatted him playfully and then delivered a tongue-heavy kiss that he felt right to his core.
Relaxing the tension in his behind, she was able to ease apart his buttocks and kiss deeper between them. Having just been cleansed thoroughly by women who knew this game was coming, Su-bin had no fear as she licked the crinkled pucker of his behind. The tingles he felt from that connection were delightful, but nothing could match the erotic idea of it all, especially with her making a playful game of her sinful act.
With the four mouths joined together in mingled affection, Angae could not last long. He didn’t fight the coming rush. This was not about pride. He didn’t care about stamina. He knew he could hold out when he wished. He also knew, given his water-born powers, that he could revitalize his reservoirs of cum at will. He had no idea if his testicles could keep up with that production, turning his juices into actual seed. Experiments like that had fortunately never been part of his life. But whether the essence he produced was life-giving or not, he could produce enough of it to drench his Devoted almost at will.
So, since this moment was focused on his pleasure, he didn’t deny the women hungering for him to reach it. He gloried in the four of them: visually, seeing them kneeling around him; physically, as every nerve ending was set alive by their wanton touch; and in the smelling and tasting them, as their mingled perfume wafted up around him in a dizzying haze. Knowing that the rest of his Devoted were watching was a whole different level of incredible. Some of them had been there themselves, on their knees as they brought him to climax. The rest knew it was only a matter of time before they would be selected to be there.
Into that spiraling moment, Myung found another plane of inspiration. She fought another inch of him into her mouth, struggling until he wedged into the top of her throat. Opening her mouth slightly, she gasped a little for air which increased the tension on his shaft. She raised her hands and curled them around his root. Slickened by her own saliva dribbling past her lips, her fingers were slippery and tight as they worked the rest of his length.
Encased now in her warmth from tip to base, Angae lost control. Pulsing a river of salty cream into Myung’s mouth, he let out a cry of surreal pleasure. It was impossible that his mortal lover could drink all of what poured forth from him. With heroic effort, she tried. As with all those who had knelt before her in that spot, splashes of his juices flowed down her chin and spilled over her pert mounds and to the ground beneath.
From what they had told him, the women found his taste enjoyable. He had never asked and had no idea if it was comparable to other men. But there was no doubting the fervor in Ji-eun, Kyung-ja and Su-bin as they nudged inward, lapping at his legs and licking Myung’s face and lips to capture some of the bursting juices for their own. The four Devoted swarmed around him, painting their own faces with the flood of white cream while their hands continued to caress, probe and cajole him for even more.
At some point during the intense scramble, Myung had come free of his shaft. Her tongue finished by bathing his sensitive underside, purring as she finished with her treat. Slowly, she became the core around which the women’s sanity returned. One by one, Myung embraced the women. Her kisses were the magic that signified the time for passion was at an end. Their lips met, both loving and passionate in their own way. Traces of his seed were passed between them, and each kiss ended with a shared smile. As she kissed each, they then withdrew. Not far. Just far enough that they could kneel peacefully a few steps away, giving Angae room to regain his sense of self.
At last, only Myung remained at his feet. Slowly, a little unsteady after the effort and self-induced suffocation, Myung rose to her feet. Her once flawless nightie was an achingly beautiful mess, stained by his copious outflow. Her perfectly sculpted hair was now tossed and tangled, while her artfully applied cosmetics were smeared from sucking on his shaft, the remnants of tears from forcing him deeper, and then the sticky splashes of his cum still decorating her skin.
In his mind, she was perhaps even more perfect now.
Her lips curved up into a trembling smile, waiting for whatever he might say.
Angae struggled to clear his throat and speak intelligent words. They were difficult to find. “You are a treasure, Myung. I am a blessed man to have you among my paramours.”
Myung licked her lips to moisten away the drying cum staining them. “We are you Devoted. Ever shall we be.” With that, she turned and walked toward the exit behind them. The three naked kneeling women around him rose, falling into step in a diamond formation behind her. Holding their chins high like a queen and her ladies in waiting retiring from court, they passed into the darkness of the manse, seeking the baths to cleanse themselves, signaling the final end to the dream they had conjured.
