The Sacrifice #2
We had been in Pharaoh’s bed, but tonight, we were Paser’s.
He licked inside me, and I quaked more from desire than muscle strain. My cock throbbed, hanging thick and heavy for Nakht’s eyes to devour. He licked his lips, and in the measured pace of his dance, he undid his own belt and let it fall to the floor like a shimmer of spilled wine.
He was so beautiful, as swollen as I was and growing harder from his caresses.
“Wait,” Paser growled, and I obediently peered back at him to watch him lie flat without moving up the bed. “To me. I will continue to wet you, while the one in red wets me to enter you.”
Yes. I was grateful Nakht wasn’t doomed to only spectate.
I moved so that I straddled the daybed up by Paser’s face, lowering myself within reach of his tongue. My thighs would begin burning again quickly, but now, I had a better view to distract me.
Nakht swept toward us, dropping to his knees between the general’s thighs, and began to swallow him and hum around his length as only those of us trained in pleasure could.
I loved leisurely playing with myself while watching Nakht deep-throat another, just as much as he enjoyed watching the general wet my entrance.
We could look but not touch each other.
We could feel but only imagine it was us committing and receiving the acts.
There was an odd intensity to it, even a certain intimacy, knowing this was an act for our masters, a defiant performance, and when alone, we were each other’s only.
Paser moaned from Nakht’s talented tonguing, stuttering the thrusts of his own probing tongue. My thighs quaked worse than ever, and I was soaking my own palm, needing to slow and squeeze almost too tightly to stave off my end.
“Enough,” the general rasped. “Sit upon me and suck the red one’s cock while I have you.”
Gladly. It was the greatest blessing when ordered to perform as we would in private.
My legs shook so much when I pushed upright that Nakht offered a hand to steady my return to the front of the bed.
He released me once I joined him but watched heatedly as I first pushed aside the fall of the general’s tunic and then sat upon his ready prick.
It was my turn to take what my beloved had swallowed, but I would get the pleasure of swallowing him.
The general swelled within me as I took him deeper, sitting up behind me, and feeling beneath my dancer’s top like before.
In tandem, Nakht came closer, holding his cock in preparation for me to take it.
The final seating upon the general burst another moan from my lips, and he wasted no time before bouncing me on his lap, thrusting deeper and deeper inside me.
It caused moan after plaintive moan to leave me, until our rhythm was stable enough for me to tip forward.
Nakht brought his cock to my lips, and I licked it delicately at first, like some shy virgin, who had never once dropped to their knees. Oh, how many times I had dropped to my knees for this cock, but I played my role of chaste plaything to the confident smoldering of Nakht above me.
He was more beautiful than I imagined the gods must be, my dawn, my everything, like bronze perfection in the shadowed firelight.
Had he been wearing a crown like Pharaoh’s, I would have thought he was a god incarnate come to claim me for the skies, and I treated his divine cock as the treasure it was.
His prerelease tasted like honey, as I ran my tongue along his pulsing vein and swallowed him deeply with hollowed cheeks. I hummed loudly to voice my pleasure so the general would assume I meant it for him.
Paser claimed me well, firm and deep without excessive roughness, which not all of Pharaoh’s elite abided, but it was Nakht’s cock I envisioned in me as I drank his down more hungrily than any wine I had tasted tonight.
All the general knew was the splendid view we made, watching us over my shoulder as he fucked me.
I was glad I made use of my hands on Nakht’s sac and stem because it meant less temptation to touch myself and come too soon.
The general touched me some, but he enjoyed thumbing my nipples more.
I wanted Nakht to come first. I wanted my beloved to reach bliss first, so I swallowed him deeper, sucked him harder, all while twisting one hand along his thick base.
I rolled his tender sac in the palm of my other hand, focused so solely on him that I nearly forgot the general was with us.
Nakht’s breath quickened, the familiar sound that he was close. But it was only after he tilted my chin up and our eyes met that he spurted down my throat with his heat.
I coughed, more startled from the distraction of his golden gaze than his release, and a bit of him spilled from the corner of my mouth.
The general thrust into me harder, encouraged by Nakht’s completion, but it was Nakht pulling his cock from my lips and using his thumb to swipe up his spillage and feed it back to me that caused my own pleasure to erupt.
“Ah!” I unleashed upon Nakht’s retreating cock and immediately wanted to lick it clean again. I would if I could and then kiss him deep enough to share our mingling.
“An amorous beauty indeed,” Paser said beside my ear. He ran his hand through my remaining emissions and offered it to Nakht.
Nakht swallowed Paser’s fingers as giftedly as he had the general’s cock, and as Paser came with a stutter inside me, Nakht’s eyes met mine while he lapped up the last of my release.
Paser fucked into me with his aftershocks, driving his release deeper and making me shudder—though more than anything, I did so from the sight of Nakht having been allowed to taste me as I had him and holding his gaze.
“Just the depth of me inside you made you come,” the general rumbled.
“Yes, my lord,” I answered, but the lord I looked up at was the only man I would ever mean these words for, “and only you.”
“Fuck.” Nakht cried as I speared inside him, needing no preamble, no warning words, for the leadup had been our dance and all that came after it. “How do you have more in you?”
We had been permitted to leave the general as he grew drowsy, and still floating on the pleasure cloud of our performance, I was not yet satiated.
I needed to come again, and I needed it to be inside my dawn.
“Me?” I fucked my beloved hard and deep but slowly now that I was in him. We had wiped ourselves clean but were still damp from exertion. “You are the one who has more in you at the moment.”
Nakht laughed, nuzzling my hand that held his cheek, while I lifted his hips with the other.
The sweat from his brow caused the kohl around his eyes to smear, so meticulously applied earlier.
I liked him best this way—imperfect from the dolls they made of us and entirely mine for the few hours we had alone.
“Besides, I always did have the better stamina between us.”
“Says you.”
“I do. And how could I not want to fuck you after you teased me like that?”
“Me?” Nakht imitated my earlier mocking. “You’re the one who had my cock between your lips.”
“Yet you still made me come with nothing but a look.”
“Ngnnn…” Nakht nuzzled my hand again, smearing so much more of the liner around his eye that he looked like he’d cried it off—while never looking more content to be folded in half.
I ran my other hand up the back of his thigh.
Further inward between his thighs were the matching divots of old scars that we painted gold with a mixture of yellow ochre and various other compounds to add shimmer.
Pharaoh's dancers were meant to be perfect, and so we had declared the scars the claiming thumbprints of the gods, and no one who ever noticed them minded them after that.
I dug my thumb into one of those divots, tilting Nakht’s hips back until his ankles reached his ears, and he moaned at how much deeper he took me.
He would come again first, guaranteed.
“Well… if this is my punishment… I’ll have to tease you like that again soon.” He dragged me down by the collar attached to my dancer’s top and kissed me like he could suck my tongue down his throat. He very nearly could, and his zeal, his passion, his need for me made me need him more too.
I hastened my pace.
Some of our bangles and other adornments clinked to the floor. We had put our belts with their covering fabrics back on for the walk to our room, and without undergarments, they need only be pushed out of the way. Besides, I liked Nakht in his shimmering red.
We were indeed dusk and dawn, both beautiful in our own rights, but where we collided came the blinding glory of the day, and the bejeweled stillness of the night.
I preferred the night sky, like a glimpse into the hereafter of all the other dancers before us, glittering on forever, innumerable and majestic for both mortals and the gods to marvel at. I could stare at the stars and never grow bored, never need any other view, not even Amun-Ra’s rays again…
Save the echo of it in my lover’s eyes.
Our kiss pushed my hand from Nakht’s face, so I moved it to seek his hand, lacing our fingers once I found it.
Nakht's left hand bore a ring of braided light and dark leather scraps, one of two he had made, the other for me. They were simple, worth nothing to anyone else, but to us they were more precious than the gold bands we wore as Pharaoh’s head dancers.
Our status was not the only reason we had a private room. All of the dancer slaves were treated well, prized property to be kept beautiful and better shown off to others to prove Pharaoh’s wealth. But none of that mattered when Nakht and I were alone.