Message-ID: <11596eli$9805271526@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Remmelt de Haan Subject: RP: Carlin 6/6 - Sanna (mast, fantasy) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199805242108.XAA06725@kosterix.icce.rug.nl> All of these stories are copyright Remmelt de Haan '97-'98. I'm not writing to fill my pockets (or anyone ELSE'S for that matter). I'm not interested in archiving my stories (stop bugging me about that, thanks) and I'll do the reposting - please email me if you've found these stories anywhere else. Sanna "Then you bless them, seal off their commitment and conclude the ceremony," Father Chodel said. "By popular custom, the couple usually kisses." Sanna nearly groaned. The priest's dry description of the wedding ceremony made watching snails race exciting in comparison. Arrangement. Dowry. Bloodlines. Rings. Families bartering their sons and daughters to gain prestige and wealth. Not once in the past two hours had the word 'love' been mentioned. Sanna often wondered what the lessons would've looked like had they all worshiped Shilohin instead of Eesyan. Detailed marital instruction for the bride and groom? Performance class with the sixty-five positions? Gods, I would've aced that class, she mused. She stifled a giggle. "Is something funny, Sanna Penhale?!" Chodel boomed. "Something the rest of us missed?" Sanna, more annoyed than embarrassed by Chodel's outburst, glanced around her. Most acolytes looked bored, some conversed in muted voices. It looked like as if the entire class was hibernating. "Well Father, I was just wondering what I have to tell a bride who asks me for... well..." Her voice faltered. "Well what?" Chodel said impatiently. "Advice on bedchamber activities," she said deadpan. All conversation in the chapel stopped. "Well, doesn't that fall under 'explaining marital duties'?" she continued innocently. Chodel turned red. A few acolytes in the back turned and coughed loudly, covering their mirth at their teacher's obvious discomfort. "Although it might be a daunting task," Sanna went on. "After all, you don't take someone who's not allowed to pick up a weapon seriously either, when he speaks about fighting styles." Some of the older acolytes winced at the obvious stab. Father Chodel raised a trembling hand and pointed at the door. "Out," he whispered. "Get out." Sanna bowed briefly and said: "By your leave, Father." In a mixture of relief and frustration she walked out. The library was fairly empty. Since the renovation of the westwing the scribes had gotten their chambers, where they could work in peace, undisturbed by the coming and going of young initiates. The space gained by their move was now filled rows of desks. Also, three isles of book- shelves had been extended a good six feet. Sanna strolled down the isles and looked at the rows of librams, tomes and scrolls. She picked up 'Principia Initiae' and turned to chapter two. She began to read, as if to find something she'd overlooked all those times she had studied the text. _To study, to serve, to teach. Only this is the purview of the initiate. The need for adventure, the accumulation of wealth and any pursuit of personal desires is merely distraction from devotion._ This was the foundation of the relationship-rule. The no-sex rule. Thou shalt not fornicate. The chapter was over four hundred years old. Loopholes had been found by devious apprentices and had been plugged by even more clever priests. All possible shades of meaning had been debated over the centuries and all nuances been written down in various guides and journals. All in all, she mused, the initiates could be proud what they had gotten out of it, in the long run. The 'wealth rule' had been the first to go, since it was this rule that affected the Temple as a whole as well as the individual priests. To build and maintain a Temple cost a small fortune in running costs. Construction was a one time expense, albeit costly, but the priests and students needed food and clothing, furniture and tools for the classrooms and workshops, etc, etc. Noblemen appeared to be a lot less inclined towards periodic donations if their children had to live in poor living conditions. Since the Temple Consensus had voted against separating the students from poor families from those of rich ones, the solution had been to improve the facilities for everyone. This decision was of course proudly hailed as an example of Eesyan's fairness in treating everyone as equals. The Temple also allowed their students to wear modest jewelry or save up money. Most of the students tried to save up for a rainy day. The prevailing opinion was that serving Eesyan and a certain degree of comfort (especially when one was on the road) didn't need to be mutually exclusive. The decision to allow 'adventuring' had been fairly recent. Only ten years ago adventurers were still treated with disdain. Wandering deatbeats, in for the get-rich-quick method. And then a lowly apprentice named Helkai came up with a bright idea. His idea was to send off pairs of priests with adventure groups, to keep them in check on the one hand, and to spread the teachings of Eesyan among the common people on the other. He prepared a speech and presented his case so eloquently that the Temple Consensus sanctioned this option for young priests and priestesses; a junior priest and an acolyte assistant could apply for extended leave. Helkai studied so hard that barely a year later he became an acolyte. He joined an adventure band with a friend on the second day and hadn't been seen in his hometown since. From time to time however, his Temple received scroll cases packed with charts of and reports about far away lands. Helkai had thrown out chapter two of 'Principia Initiae', gone off adventuring and generally could do whatever he bloody well wanted. And he had gotten away with it. Sanna planned to follow in his footsteps. Move away to far away places, unchecked by the Temple Elders. She didn't really believe all the stories about the Eyes of the Temple, the infamous spy network that was spread out across Edalaran like the strands of a spider web. After all, if they were sent out to spread the Wisdom of Eesyan, that meant there had to be towns without a following. And how could the Temple have Eyes in places like that? Her friend Miriam had already gone, she and that goofy looking guy everybody called Dance. When she first had seen the two of them together, she had known Miriam was in love with him. When he had asked her to be his assistant she had said yes without giving it a second thought. Sanna was wondering how their relationship was now, since the Temple had been clamping down on a few cases of 'misconduct' recently. A couple of juniors who had been found in a linen closet in a very intimate position had been send off to Temples in opposite corners of the land. As third grade apprentices. The priestess who'd discovered them had been given a vow of silence for six months, to prevent gossip. Some weeks ago an acolyte had tried to hang herself in her chamber. It was only by pure coincidence that she was found in time. The girl, daughter of a wealthy merchant, was smitten to a young senior priest she had met in Carlin. Upon hearing that he had confessed their sinful relationship to the Temple and had been send to Port Malthar in the deep south as punishment, she had tried to take her own life. She had been sent to a Temple in the north, ostensibly for meditation, but rumour had it she had been dismissed from service. Sanna often wondered whether Miriam would be happy with the current situation. Or perhaps she had been gone long enough to dare and challenge the Temple's rules. Rumours were circulating that the Temple was about to cave in. The bigger the Temples grew, the more difficult it was to make sure everybody followed the rules. Soon there would come a day when another smart apprentice would have another brilliant idea and would make the rest of Chapter Two obsolete. She smiled whistfully. For now she and everybody else above the rank of apprentice had to follow the rule. She just prayed that day would come before she lost interest in sex. And where Miriam simple adored her Senior, Sanna merely laughed at the young men who were on the lookout for an assistant. In the first months she had set her standards pretty high, focussing on the physical, mental as well as spiritual attributes of a possible Senior. But as time moved on it became clear there wasn't really anyone she wanted to work with. They were all clumsy as oxes, slow and dimwitted. She had kept lowering her expectations, until she found herself looking for someone she could at least respect. And until the time came someone like that presented himself, she worked hard. Since she had taken her vows as an acolyte she had immersed herself in her studies. Apart from checking out potential Seniors she had avoided thinking about men altogether. She ignored invitations to birthdays or dances and could stroll through town all afternoon without having a single moment of weakness. But she couldn't stop the dreams. At night, every night, she was free and lived outrageously. Sometimes she was with a man, sometimes with a woman. One night she dreamt about a handsome sorcerer who took her to a sunny beach. He cast a spell which made them virtually weightless. Floating seven feet above the shore, they slowly made love, their cries mingling with those of the seagulls. In another dream she was addressing the Temple Consensus, pleading for more personal freedom. While she was talking she felt a couple of warm hands caressing her breasts and a soft tongue starting to lick her inner thighs. When she looked down she discovered she stood naked before the crowd of High Priests, but there was noone near her. As she struggled to finish her speech her invisible lover continued the oral assault. It didn't take long before she cried out, pushing her loins into the face of her invisible lover. Most of the times she remembered only fragments of those dreams. And then there were the dreams about Miriam. They were in the steam room, naked and covered in sweat. When it was Miriam's turn for a backrub, Sanna said: "You are just perfect. If I were a boy, I'd know what to do with you." Miriam, who rested her head on her hands, looked at her and replied softly: "Why don't you show me anyway?" And she did. She always woke up feeling highly excited, her face flushed and her heart still beating wildly. Knowing sleep wouldn't return until she was fulfilled, she slipped her left hand down her chemise and started rubbing her wetness. Within moments she reached her peek. After two breathtaking orgasms she calmed down and fell asleep again. The memory of these vivid dreams did not fade; at any time of day or night she could recall even the smallest detail of them. Not that she often did, because they never failed to arouse her. And they made her sad for she knew they would never happen between them. She would never jeopardize their close friendship by making a move on her. The bell for the midday meal sounded. Sanna blinked and smiled. She was daydreaming a lot lately. She put the book back on the shelf and walked to the dinner hall. During midday meals Sanna usually kept to herself. She didn't join conversations and only spoke when someone asked her a direct question. In all her time she had been in the Temple Miriam had been her only close friend. She didn't bother to try and make new ones, figuring she would leave Korinth soon enough. To her dismay, Cicely Dantzen took a seat opposite her. Cicely was the kind of student that seemed to float through the clerical career with the grace of a dancer. Everything seemed to come naturally to her. With a minimum of study she always was the first of her class, making her the favorite of more than a few teachers. She could dazzle nearly everyone with her toothy smile. She never lacked any friends, male or female. People seemed eager to be with her, to be seen with her. She carried herself with an almost regal presence and seemed to treat everyone around her as a loyal subject. Sanna only nodded when Cicely greeted her cheerfully. She watched her as she started a conversation with a junior priest next to her. Cicely was very attractive and objectively Sanna could understand why people behaved the way they did around her. Personally, she couldn't care less. The Ice Queen didn't do anything for her and not even in her wildest dreams did she make out with Cicely. "Well Sister Sanna, that was quite a show you put on in the chapel, wasn't it?" Cicely said casually. Sanna ate her soup. She wasn't surprised that it had come out; and someone as popular as Cicely knew every gossip and rumour within the hour. After a few spoonfulls she asked: "Why, do you disagree, Sister?" "I just thought it was odd that someone like you had to say it," Cicely replied. "I mean, it's not as if you miss out on anything, not with your looks." Sanna reddened with embarrasment. The hand holding the spoon halted in mid air. Staring into her blurry mirror image in the bowl of soup, she thought: does she think I'm ugly? Is she saying... "So true, Sister Cicely," a dry voice came from the left. "But then again, _she_ doesn't have to cover up her true nature with stunning looks." Everyone within hearing range turned to look at the speaker, a short, heavy set apprentice with a full, round face. Cicely paled. Unperturbed, the apprentice looked at Sanna and said: "Could you pass the salt, sister?" Sanna passed the salt and looked curiously at him. "Excuse me," Cicely said frostily, "I didn't get your name." The apprentice nodded and elaborately sprinkled salt over his stake. "I know," he replied. "I like to stay ahead of some people..." He paused, removing a piece of lint from his collar, drawing out the moment until it became insultingly long, before adding: "...sister." Someone at the end of the table giggled and Sanna looked down to hide her smile. Conversation was resumed and Cicely kept quiet throughout the rest of the meal. She left the table without saying a word. Sanna lingered until the apprentice and she were the only one left sitting. At the end of the table, the apprentices with kitchen duty started to clean up. "I thought I was the only one with a resistance against Cicely's charms," she began. The apprentice wiped his mouth with the inside of his sleeve and laughed. "Surely you are joking. I spotted Miss Frosty a mile away," he smiled. "Sister," he added, warmly this time, as if he was an adoring younger brother. Sanna smiled back, thinking: he is good. A real charmer. "I'm Sanna Penhale," she said. "Are you new here?" "Penhale?" His eyebrows raised in admiration. "I read your name on the honors list. No wonder she hates you - she feels you breathing down her neck." Sanna suddenly realized that he might be right. It could very well be that with all her hard work she was in second place. She had never bothered to look on the list because it didn't mean anything to her. She didn't study to be number one - she just studied to get her mind off things. "I'm Avital," the apprentice introduced himself. "A transfer from Em Ventar. I got here yesterday." Sanna held out her hand and he shook it by clasping her forearm. Her brother Alan, a warrior trainee, had shown her that greeting once. "You've been to a Warrior Academy," she observed. Avital smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry. Old habits die hard," he said. "I had two years behind me at the School of Tacticians before I found out I could heal. After that things were somewhat... out of my hands." "Sister Sanna, I would like a word with you," a priestess interrupted them. They both looked toward the entrance of the dining hall, where a tall slender woman was beckoning Sanna. The look on her face spelled trouble. "Good luck," Avital whispered. Sanna opened her mouth to thank him, when the priestess boomed: "In my chambers, now!!" Mother Maeragh slammed the door shut. "You think you are pretty clever, don't you?" she started. Sanna still rubbed her left arm. The priestess had dragged her through the halls by her arm, and rather roughly at that. "Clever? No, mother..." "You made obscene suggestions to Father Chodel during wedding instruction." "What!?" Sanna's eyes spread wide in disbelief. "But I..." "Did you or did you not ask Father Chodel for sexual advice?" the priestess said sharply. "Yes, but not in such..." "Park duty for a week. We'll purge that rebellious streak yet." Sanna was appalled. Weeding the public gardens, removing fallen leaves and pebbles from the flower beds, using nothing but your bare hands. Her first thought was: I did not deserve this. Then, unbidden, came another: they won't get me down. I won't give them a reason to keep me here any longer than absolutely necessary. "Was there anything else, mother?" she asked, looking at the ground. Mother Maeragh regarded the acolyte with pursed lips. After a moment or two she answered: "No. You can go now, sister." Sanna emptied the wooden bucket into the wheelbarrow. Another five feet of weed-choked flowerbed cleared of funny bits. The fingers of her left hand were covered in a black-green layer of dirt. She slowly walked back to her designed spot. Her back protested as she tried to straighten up. More than few muscles in her legs ached. She had been crouching for the first hour, then shifted her stance to kneeling. She had felt the small pebbles of the paths between the flowerbeds digging in her knees. Sitting or lying down was not allowed. The overseer, a man with a ruddy face and a bushy moustache, was not above kicking his... 'Slaves' would be the correct word, Sanna thought. Or 'peons'. The humiliation of park duty lay in the fact that it was public punishment. The small group of acolytes and apprentices who weekly attended to the parks of Korinth had to deal with jibes of commoners, noblemen lecturing about virtues and sometimes dirt-kicking street urchins. The overseer wasn't even a priest but usually one of those men one never catches working but who nevertheless manage to make a living. This week's overseer enjoyed telling park visitors the transgression of each member of his work crew. "Move along, fat boy! Keep those grubby little hands busy!" the overseer scolded. He shoved a slightly overweight apprentice away from the wheelbarrow. "Think those hands are good enough to nab meat from the kitchen, but not to do an honest day's work? Koriel watches you, fat boy!" And you too, Sanna thought. She was careful not to let her irritation show; until now the overseer's ire had been directed elsewhere and the last thing she desired was the man's attention. Methodically removing green and brown shoots of weed, she tried to finish the last part of her flowerbed. She tried to draw some satisfaction from the yards of flowerbeds she'd already covered, but on the morning of the last day she noticed that the part of the park their group had worked on in the beginning was already starting to deteriorate again. An entire group of gardeners could be kept occupied, day in, day out, for a full season, just to keep the grounds well-kept. At the end of the last day of her punishment, after she had emptied her bucket for the last time, she noted with a slight disgust that although she was tired, her muscles no longer ached and protested when she made sudden moves. She was actually getting used to the menial work! Right there and then she decided to use her last town pass, dine in a quiet inn and spend an evening on her own. And to drown her frustrations in a carafe of wine. As soon as she had cleared her night out with the priest on duty at the Front Office, she headed down to the basement for a steambath. The bell for the evening meal sounded just as she turned the corner to the women's section. She had once tried to find out whether the Temple had always been separating the men from the women when bathing or whether it had been a sudden change. Curiously, although the library had extensive librams on architecture and even maps covering the various Temples in Edalaran and even of a few in far away lands, information on the lower levels, including the steambaths, was non-existent. If she had to believe the scrolls, a couple of hundred years ago, the baths and basements had suddenly sprung into existence. Nobody seemed to know who'd built it or whose design it had been. Sanna had heard of tales about a Temple devoted entirely to Shilohin, the Lady of Love and Lust, where men and women did bathe together. Rumour would have the Temple located in a mountainous area in the southwest of Edalaran. Two apprentices came out of the dressing room, their hair still wet and tousled. The two girls nodded briefly and hurried upstairs, already late for dinner. Sanna took off her robe, folded it and put it on one of the wooden benches that stood lined against the walls. She slipped out of her sandals and stood on the cold stone floor, the contact sending a familiar shiver from her feet up to her face. She suppressed the impulse to hurry, even slowed her movements and calmly stripped until she was naked. Slowly she walked towards the pool room, ignoring the feel of the cold stone slabs under her feet. The pool room was deserted, which was not susprising at this time of day. The water was quietly dancing in giddy reflections on the walls. The only sounds were those of the water lapping at the edges of the oval pool. Sanna walked towards the edge, took a deep breath and dived in head first. The intense shock of the ice cold water paralyzed her for a few moments. When she had regained her orientation she slowly started to swim to the other side, even though every fibre in her body screamed to get out of the cold water. Her heart raced and she felt her nipples stiffen. Ten seconds later she surfaced at the far end, gasping for air. With teeth chattering and limbs shaking she pulled herself out of the water. Taking deep breaths of air she tried to slow her heartbeat. The corridor between the pool room and the steam room was warm now, the stone floor no longer cold. This was probably the closest to total freedom that one could ever get, she mused: walking around buck naked without a soul to bother you. She made a mental note to try and find out whether there was any truth to the rumours about the Temple of Shilohin. When she entered the steamroom, the heat enveloped her liked a heavy blanket. The air was heavy and laden with spices, prickling the airways. She lay down on one of the animal furs and watched the steam rise to the ceiling, where it escaped through an air vent. She stretched luxuriously and sighed. Peace at last. Cicely Dantzen would have to gossip behind her back today, as she was wont to do, Avital had told her. She smiled as she thought of the short, stout apprentice. They had spoken twice more during dinner since the start of her punishment. She decided she liked him. He was smart and he knew what he wanted. He disliked idle chatter, as she did, and preferred to be direct. As long as he sat next to her at the dinner table, Cicely kept quiet. Like herself, he looked further than the walls of the Temple. He liked to talk about people and places, the life he had had before he entered the service of Eesyan. She still remembered his firm handshake. She wouldn't be surprised if the rest of him was as firm and muscular as his arm. Two years ago she had bedded a warrior trainee. The boy had been as green as gras, but he'd had an unbelievable stamina. The corners of her mouth curled upwards as she thought back to those days. Avital was probably more experienced, she mused. The thought of Avital's sweaty body against her send a wave of excitement through her. Her left hand slipped between her legs and grazed her inner thighs. Her left leg bent at the knee to give herself better access. Sanna closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations. Her nails scratched her lips lightly, stretching her pubic hair. She smiled as Avital, before her mind's eye, disrobed and proudly showed his manhood, hard and pointing upwards. Her middle finger slid between her lips, which were already starting to get wet. Her hands moved up and covered her breasts, twisting and pulling her nipples until they were fully erect. Sighing contently, she moved her right hand back between her legs to palm her kitten. Avital was now kneeling before her, guiding his stiff rod towards the dark triangle of hair. She slipped her middle finger inside and envisioned Avital penetrating her with the full length of his shaft. She added a second finger and started to move her hand in and out. A moan escaped her lips as the smooth motion sent waves of pleasure through her. She spit on the fingers of her left hand, spread her lips and moistened the area in between, where her little pearl of pleasure was growing. Her hips began to accomodate her invading fingers by lifting her buttocks off the fur at each downstroke. She moaned again and bit her lower lip to stifle another; she couldn't afford to be caught. For a while she listened to the sounds of the room: the sizzling of the steam, the soft liquid sounds her kitten was producing around her fingers, coming in staccato rhythm, her own laboured breathing and the sliding of her arms over her sweaty stomach and sides. In between the flexing and unflexing of her most private muscles, she felt a tiny ball nestling itself between her thighs. She immediately went for it, eager to wash away her frustrations with a breathtaking orgasm. Sanna speeded up her movements, her hands moving frantically, climbing and climbing, grinning because oh it was going to be a big one, the ball swelling until it felt like a dam about to burst and Avital was inside her and moving faster and then she could no longer contain herself. She arched her back against her imaginary lover and shuddering, she reached her peak. "Unnh.. unhh.. unnhh.." she chanted through clenched teeth, her fingers pumping her sheath furiously, prolonging the agonizing pleasure for as long as possible. Still trembling from exertion, she came down from her high. Slowly she removed her fingers and brought them to her mouth. Eagerly she licked her fingers clean. She'd always enjoyed her own taste and liked to think that was what had ultimately made her swing both ways. She frowned slightly as she thought of Avital again. It was a damned shame that he was just an apprentice. They might have made a good couple. But however much she liked him, there was just no way she was going to wait until his advancement to Senior. She had to get out of this place sooner than that. Much sooner. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----