by Ivy Barrett
Dark Star Doms 3: Surrender of a Soul Seer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
© 2017 Ivy Barrett
Cover art by Dar Albert
Electronic book Publication, February 2017
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Ivy Barrett.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Author’s Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
Dark Star Doms 3: Surrender of a Soul Seer
Ivy Barrett
Determined to move beyond his decadent past, Matt, the infamous Toymaker, embarks on a journey of self-discovery. He once created pleasure aids and sexual companions, but a debilitating disease has forced him into a biomechanical body. Though primitive and superstitious, the Perrlain Tribe holds the secret to his survival, or at least his sanity.
After Serena’s highly erotic ascension to spiritual healer status, she grows uncomfortable surrendering herself to sexual release. The tribe’s high priestess sees an opportunity for Matt and Serena to help each other. Matt will reintroduce Serena to carnal pleasure and she will balance his soul stream.
Matt and Serena’s attraction soon transcends physical pleasure, but mutual enemies reveal that Matt is a “soulless machine”. Serena has been taught that technology is evil, but her heart refuses to believe. Now she’s faced with an impossible choice, honor the sacred teachings or betray her tribe so she can be with the man she loves.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Prologue
Gathering her waist-length hair into a tight twist, Serena wrapped the heavy mass around the crown of her head and held it there as the high priestess lowered a snug headdress into place. “I’m the only acolyte ascending tonight. Everyone will know who I am.”
Hyalee didn’t argue. “Every aspect of the ceremony is designed to focus our attention on the ascension. Nothing must distract us from the changes the Deity is about to work in you.” They had already ringed her eyes with soot and used the deep red juice of the tersatta plant to stain her lips. The high priestess secured a mask across the upper half of Serena’s face and stepped back to look at her.
Few ever witnessed the ascension of an acolyte. It was the holiest of all Perrlain rituals. Serena had awakened this morning to a troubling combination of excitement and dread. Everyone had tried to soothe her, but all of Hyalee’s vague assurances hadn’t eased the tension gripping Serena’s belly.
Though diminutive in stature and build, the high priestess exuded authority. She’d swept her honey-blonde hair away from her face and worked it into a simple braid. “You still seem uncertain. No one ascends unless they’re ready.”
“I am ready.” Serena took a deep breath and let the words ring through her mind. This is what she’d waited for her entire life. So why couldn’t she shake the trepidation?
“You have a great capacity for divine energy. I’ve sensed this for some time. Do you have any idea which gift the Deity is going to release within you? Your mother was having dreams long before her ascension.”
Serena shook her head. “I only feel as if my life will never be the same after tonight.”
Hyalee studied her for a long silent moment. “All acolytes, male and female, are expected to refrain from sexual expression during their training. Some, like you, will experience intercourse for the first time during their ascension, but most have experimented with carnal pleasure in one way or another long before that time. Are you frightened by that aspect of what is about to happen?”
“Of course not.” Most Perrlain rituals included some sort of sexual expression. Carnal hunger was an elemental and enjoyable part of adult life. Still, Serena wanted her sacrifice to be special. She’d suppressed her desire as best she could and compromised only by relieving the tension with her own touch. “I’m anxious to express my sexuality, but…” Serena released a shaky sigh. “I’m not sure what’s bothering me.”
“The unknown is always frightening. Watching others fulfill their carnal appetites is different than surrendering your virginity. I will make sure the participants take special care to arouse you before the Chosen One enters your body.”
“How many will participate? Will I be allowed to touch them, or am I just expected to submit? Who was Chosen for me? Am I allowed to know?”
Hyalee lifted the woven shade away from the window and glanced out into the forest. “You will have answers to all your questions as soon as we join the others.” The shade slapped lightly against the window frame as the high priestess let go. “Night has fallen. It’s time to go.”
Serena tried not to panic. Only priests and priestesses were allowed to participate in an ascension. Everyone in attendance had been through this themselves, including Hyalee.
The sun hovered on the horizon, casting eerie shadows among the towering trees. To keep their people focused on the Deity’s wonders, the Perrlain Tribe had settled deep in the wilderness of Temple-Tuttle. The entire outpost was dedicated to spirituality, but unlike the rest of the settlers, the Perrlain Tribe shunned technology and remained secluded from the materialistic world. The Deity provided all they would ever need, so the Perrlain spent their lives in worship and celebration.
Following behind the high priestess, Serena made her way along the narrow path that led to the Cliffs of Enarre. Torches surrounded the grassy clearing, their flames dancing in the evening breeze. Triple waterfalls cascaded from the dramatic cliffs, reflecting the meager light and forming luminescent froth in the pool far below.
The worshippers stood in a circle, alternating priests with priestesses. As Hyalee approached, the worshippers parted, allowing them to pass. High Priest Kapali stood in the center of the worshippers. His light brown hair fell in burnished waves to his shoulders, framing his rugged features. Like his sister Hyalee, he made no attempt to disguise his appearance. Kapali created the impression of strength without the bulging muscles of a warrior. His gleaming dark eyes saw everything with just a glance, and Serena suspected no one knew the full extent of his power.
“We have gathered to celebrate our sister’s ascension. From acolyte to priestess, she will rise.” His voice rang in the clearing and the worshippers echoed with a phrase Serena didn’t understand. She would be taught the ancient words and evocations once her ascension was complete. He looked into her eyes. “Are you ready and willing for this change?”
“I am.” Serena sounded more assertive than she felt.
The priests and priestesses all wore identical garments, a wraparound robe of red and gold. Kapali and Hyalee wore similar robes, but theirs were red and black. Serena glanced down at her gold-trimmed white robe and realized it was the last time she would wear it. When she left the clearing tonight, she would be dressed in red and gold.
Her gaze swept
the circle of worshippers. Despite their headdresses and masks, she tried to identify as many as she could. The priests had also painted the lower portion of their faces, making it harder to identify their features. The first priest on her right had to be Baylott. His height surpassed the others by half a head. Which one had been Chosen for her?
Kapali motioned behind him, drawing her attention to the stout poles, which had been driven into the ground. “If you are ready, shed the trappings of an acolyte and take your place.”
With trembling fingers, she untied the belt at her waist and let her robe slide to the ground. The worshippers began a soft, lyrical chant. She absorbed the rhythm, letting it wash over her in soothing waves. This was the culmination of her training. There was no reason for her fear. She moved between the poles and looked to Kapali for instruction.
“Raise your arms in supplication and grasp the loops to keep them raised.”
Lifting her arms over her head, she slipped her hands through the leather loops. She would not be restrained in any way. Her sacrifice must be willing. Hyalee held a wooden cup to her lips and Serena took a tentative sip. Tersatta juice. The cool liquid rolled across her tongue, spreading warmth along with the tangy, sweet flavor. Hyalee tipped more of the juice into her mouth then held the cup out toward Kapali.
Kapali had a long-handled brush in one hand. One of the worshippers must have given it to him. He hadn’t had it a moment before. He dipped the brush in the juice and reapplied the liquid to Serena’s lips, but he didn’t stop there. Boldly descending along her body, he painted her nipples, her navel and her feminine folds. The prickly soft stroke of the brush made her shiver and gasp.
Warm night air dried the juice as Kapali and Hyalee circled Serena. Her nipples tingled and her folds stung. The sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant, just more intense than she’d expected. She could feel the worshippers gazing at her naked body. One of these priests would take her virginity. Her pussy clenched at the prospect of finally being filled. So many nights she’d watched others touch and taste, enjoying the freedom of a true believer. She’d witnessed many variations of sexual expression while her body remained empty and unfulfilled.
Pausing in front of her, Hyalee looked into her eyes. “To ascend, you must transcend your fears, release your hold on self and surrender. Because of your inexperience, we will begin with the basics.” She smiled then pulled Serena’s mask down, covering her eyes with the snug material.
Serena’s immediate reaction was to turn loose the straps and remove the blindfold. She fought back the initial impulse, however, and accessed her other senses. Sweet firmine flowers scented the breeze and the shuffle of clothing warned of someone’s approach. A hand touched her right shoulder, the contact firm and warm. Fingertips brushed the underside of her arm from elbow to armpit. She shivered as the stimulation swung from tingle to tickle and back again. A hand cupped her breast, and another stroked her bottom. So many hands. Was this three people or four? Were they men or women? Did it matter?
Heat swelled within her while a knot of apprehension restrained her pleasure. Someone moved her legs apart and caressed her inner thighs. She felt the wet stroke of the brush trace the crease of her bottom.
Fingers rolled her nipples, intensifying the ache. She twisted her hips and arched her back, needing… She didn’t know what she needed, but her core throbbed and tension gripped her abdomen. Everywhere the juice touched tingled, and the unseen worshippers intensified the sensation with their breaths.
A mouth closed around her nipple while fingers massaged her other breast. The massage was almost soothing while the sucking sent pulses of need cascading through her body. Heat pooled between her thighs. She tightened her inner muscles, lost in the wonder of discovery.
Another mouth joined the first, mirroring the deep, rhythmic pulls on her other nipple. Hot, humid air swirled around her as the worshippers shifted position. She felt fingers trail along her torso and her back, a synchronized stimulation. Her breasts were still being caressed, her nipples sucked, so there had to be at least three worshippers. Likely there were four. Her imagination ignited, trying to picture each face and how they were positioned around her.
The descending fingers reached their targets at exactly the same time. One hand traced the crack of her ass while the other followed her feminine crease. With a sharp gasp, she twisted her hips and felt herself steadied. They ventured deeper. The hand in back found her tightly puckered opening and teased without pushing inside. The other worshipper circled her front passage, drawing attention to the aching emptiness.
Soon! She would feel hot, hard flesh filling her, stretching her and releasing her sexual potential.
Keeping her outer lips spread, one of the worshippers rubbed her clit. The fingers passed up one side and down the other, across the top, then a gentle squeeze. She squirmed and tossed her head. Her own touch had never felt like this.
With a wet pop, the lips released their hold on her nipples and began to flick the buds with their tongues instead. It became one rhythmic caress. Sizzling sensations shot between the launch points, building intensity with each pass. Her muscles tensed and her back bowed as the fire burned hotter. Having nothing to squeeze, her inner muscles clenched in on themselves. Fingers closed around her clit and rolled the sensitive bud, pulling ever so slightly. She cried out and shuddered. Pleasure showered down upon her then surged up through her, leaving her shaken and stunned.
Her knees buckled and she clutched the loops, barely keeping herself upright. A strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, steadying her until her strength returned. She panted and shivered as aftershocks skittered along her spine. This was why women cried out and men groaned. The tiny spasms she’d released within herself had been a pale foreshadowing of true sexual expression. She rested her head against the shoulder of the man behind her and Hyalee lifted the mask away from her eyes.
“You did very well, Sister,” the high priestess said with a smile. “Now the Chosen One will taste your passion before you offer the final sacrifice.”
Serena nodded. She’d seen people bring each other to climax with their mouths numerous times. It seemed to be a favorite form of stimulation among the Perrlain Tribe. The Chosen One would lick her pussy and suck on her most intimate flesh until she felt those wonderful sensations all over again. Why would she object to that?
A smile parted her lips and she looked beyond the high priestess, searching for the Chosen One. The clearing was distorted. She blinked, trying to bring the scene into focus. All she could see were shadows against the darkness, silhouettes outlined by twisting strands of colored light. She looked from one worshipper to the next, fear escalating each time she shifted her gaze.
“Relax,” Kapali whispered into her ear. It was his arm wrapped around her waist. “Release your inhibitions and offer yourself without reservation. Submit.”
The word echoed through her mind, a sweet temptation among so many intoxicating pleasures. With her hands raised above her head, she couldn’t touch or guide, she had to accept whatever they chose to give her.
One of the priests moved in front of her and shed his robe. He was of medium height, indistinguishable from several of the other priests. His torso had been covered with body paint, undulating patterns in red and gold. Tersatta juice accented his flat male nipples and created a spiral along his shaft. The head of his cock had been coated with the juice, making it look inflamed and—angry.
Hoping to steady her pounding heart, she dragged her gaze away from his erection and looked at his face. Only his mouth and jaw were not obscured by the mask and the face paint further distorted his appearance. His dark eyes gleamed in the torchlight and his lips curved without parting.
He took his cock in hand and stroked from base to tip as he said the evocation, secret words known only by the priests. Her head pounded and color strands pulsed around him, growing brighter as his excitement built. The colors were beautiful, but the pattern twisted in an ever-tightening we
ave. The strands locked and the colors darkened, blending until tiny fibers of color threaded through a thick black cord. He thrust his hips toward her and their gazes locked. Blue light erupted within the depths of his dark eyes.
She shrank into Kapali as the naked priest advanced. Why did his eyes burn blue? Only the Wikoli had eyes like this! Turning her head toward the high priest, she spoke in a frantic whisper. “I don’t want him to touch me.”
“You’ll be fine.” Kapali stroked the side of her face and pressed his body against her back. “Everyone is frightened the first time.”
“It’s not that. I…”
The man knelt before her and raised his arms, calling out to the Deity. His voice sounded familiar. She knew all the priests, had known them since birth. He spoke again, a bit louder this time, and she identified his voice. This was Gelmont. She released her pent-up breath and relaxed against Kapali.
Gelmont cupped her breasts, leaning forward so he could press his face against the juncture of her thighs. She heard him inhale her scent and felt his warm breath on her folds. A persistent shiver dispelled the flicker of heat before it could ignite. The others took up the chant. Kapali brushed his hands along her upraised arms, down her sides to her hips then back up. He used his touch to calm her, communicating peace and support as the other man became bolder, more aggressive.
She dragged air in through her nose and released it through her mouth. Why did she want to kick and twist? Gelmont was the Chosen One. He would enter her body and accept her final sacrifice. He rolled her nipples, tugging on the tender crests until she made a soft distressed sound. Pulling his face away from her sex, he pushed his hand between her thighs. He traced her slit with his middle finger as the other worshipper had done. Then he pushed against her hymen, grinning when he found the barrier intact.
Despite her determination to submit, she trembled and bit down on her bottom lip. He brushed his thumb across her clit. Nothing he did was hurtful. It just felt wrong. She let go of the loops and shoved him back as hard as she could. The priest landed in the grass with a startled grunt as the worshippers lapsed into silence.