Zephirantes
Magistrate
Apocalypta: some short vignettes
[story, altar sacrifice, semi-consensual]
[story, altar sacrifice, semi-consensual]
In the dark, mysterious world of ancient Xotalanc, the Techtuli tribe has met a grim fate, defeated by the relentless soldiers of Xotalanc. Among the captives are Melita and Amina, two young women of just 18 years, who find themselves prisoners along with the rest of their tribe. The Xotalanc soldiers, with their ritualistic cruelty, have painted the men of Techtuli in blue, marking them for sacrifice to Yog, the Lord of Empty Dwellings. The blue paint covers their genitals and extends up to their sternum, a chilling guide for where they will be sliced open.
The sacrificial process is brutal and unyielding: the men are bound to the altar at the top of the pyramid, their abdomens cut open from just below their genitals to their sternum, their entrails removed with cold precision by the dark priests of Yog. The first to be sacrificed struggle in vain, their bodies convulsing against their restraints. But as the sacrifices continue, a strange resignation takes hold, and Amina and Melita notice something disturbing—some of the men, despite their fear, display erect cocks, even ejaculating as the priests' hands delve into their opened bellies. The air is filled with screams, some of pure agony, others mingled with moans as these men reach a final, desperate climax on the very altar where they are being gutted.
The entire Xotalanc tribe gathers around the pyramid, cheering on the condemned as they die and cum without shame. Even the defeated Techtuli people are forced to witness the grisly spectacle, watching their warriors fall one by one.
Melita and Amina, naked and painted in the same blue as their male counterparts, realize that they too have been selected for sacrifice. Perhaps it is because they are the most beautiful among the defeated, but they know that they will be disemboweled in front of the assembled tribes, with their own families watching. The thought terrifies them, yet there is a strange, unsettling curiosity that begins to take hold.
They find themselves wondering: could being cut open and eviscerated be… sexually gratifying? Might the sensation of the priests’ hands inside their bellies be arousing? Could the slow, deliberate removal of their intestines bring them to orgasm, even if involuntarily? As they ponder these questions, their hands wander to each other’s navels, tracing the place where the blade will enter, trying to imagine the sensation of being ripped open for all to see. Their touches drift lower, as they explore the dark, forbidden arousal that these thoughts provoke.
Thus begins the final chapter of their lives, a twisted journey of fear, fascination, and the ultimate surrender to the brutal forces that govern their world.
- - -
With their hearts pounding in their chests and their minds swirling with dread and a perverse curiosity, Melita and Amina muster the courage to approach one of the guards. The man is a hulking figure, his face painted in dark, forbidding hues, but something in his eyes suggests that he enjoys his work a little too much. Trembling, the girls ask what fate awaits them.
The guard smirks, his grin spreading slowly as he leans in close, his breath hot and foul against their skin. “Oh, you’ll meet the same end as the men, that’s for sure,” he says, his voice dripping with malice and twisted delight. “But for you girls, there’s a little… adjustment. You see, the cut won’t start from your belly.”
He lets that sink in for a moment, savoring the way their faces pale and their eyes widen with the dawning realization. “No, for you pretty little things, we’ll start the cut right from your pussy. We’ll carve you open from that sweet slit of yours, all the way up. The priests will make sure you feel every inch of the blade as it slices through your cunt and up into your belly, making you squirm just like the men.”
The girls shudder, their fear now mingled with an unbidden thrill. The thought of the blade starting at the most intimate part of their bodies, of feeling the cold steel slicing through their tender flesh, sends a shockwave through them both. They can’t help but glance at each other, the reality of what’s coming sinking in deeper with every passing second.
“Enjoy your last moments,” the guard chuckles darkly, “because soon enough, you’ll be on that altar, screaming and cumming just like the rest of them.”
As he walks away, leaving the girls to grapple with the horror of their fate, Melita and Amina can’t help but touch themselves again, this time with an urgency that borders on desperation. The knowledge that their pussy will be the starting point of their final journey into the void, that they’ll be split open from their most sacred place, only fuels the twisted, conflicted feelings building within them.
- - -
As the hours slipped by and the shadow of the looming pyramid grew longer, Melita and Amina huddled together, their naked bodies painted in the blue of the doomed. Their thoughts were consumed by the fate that awaited them, a fate as terrifying as it was strangely alluring. The idea of the obsidian knife—a cold, unyielding shard of death—starting its merciless journey at their cunts and carving its way up through their bellies filled them with a dread that made their hearts race, yet they couldn’t ignore the dark, forbidden thrill that pulsed beneath their fear.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Melita whispered, her voice trembling as much from excitement as from terror. “About how it will feel when the knife touches me there, when it splits me open right from my pussy…”
Amina shivered at her friend’s words, her own thoughts echoing the same morbid fascination. “I know,” she replied, her voice barely above a breath. “It’s terrifying, but… part of me wants it. To feel that blade cut through me, right there, where I’m most sensitive. I imagine it slicing into my cunt, and somehow, it makes me feel… alive. More alive than I’ve ever felt.”
Melita’s hand instinctively reached between her legs, her fingers tracing the soft flesh that would soon be parted by cold stone. “Do you think it will hurt more than we can imagine? Or… will it feel like some twisted, ultimate pleasure? To have our cunts destroyed like that, and then our bellies cut open…”
Amina’s breath caught in her throat as she mirrored Melita’s movements, her fingers brushing over the spot where the knife would begin its cruel work. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice quivering with anticipation. “But the thought of it, of being opened up like that, of the blade tearing through me… it’s almost too much to bear. And yet, I want it. I want to feel it. I want to know what it’s like to be split in two, from my pussy up to my belly, for everyone to see.”
They exchanged a glance, a shared understanding passing between them—this was more than fear, more than pain. It was a twisted desire that neither of them could fully comprehend, but one they couldn’t deny. The idea of being cut open, of having their most intimate places destroyed by the blade, had awakened something deep within them.
“I wonder,” Melita mused, her voice softer now, “if we’ll scream when it happens. If we’ll cry out in agony, or if we’ll… moan. If we’ll cum as we’re torn apart.”
Amina nodded, her thoughts mirroring the same dark curiosity. “Maybe it’ll be both. Maybe we’ll scream and cum, our bodies overwhelmed by the pain and the pleasure of it. And maybe, in those final moments, we’ll feel something no one else ever has.”
The two girls clung to each other, their bodies trembling not just with fear, but with a sick, eager anticipation. The thought of their fate—of their cunts being split open, of the knife tearing up through their bellies—had become an obsession, a dark craving that only the cruelest of ends could satisfy.
And as the moments ticked by, they found themselves longing for the altar, for the knife, for the final, agonizing climax that would end their lives in a twisted blend of pain and ecstasy.
- - -
In the gathering dusk, Melita and Amina, driven by a mix of desperation and morbid curiosity, approached the guards once more. Their voices were shaky, but there was a strange determination in their eyes as they asked the question that had been gnawing at them both.
"Will... will our clits be spared?" Melita's voice was barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess herself.
The guard, the same cruel figure who had spoken to them earlier, let out a dark chuckle. He stepped closer, his presence towering over the two girls as he leaned in to deliver the news they both feared and expected. "Oh no, sweet ones. There will be no mercy for you there. The blade will slice right through your clits, splitting them in two before it continues its journey up your bellies."
The cold finality in his words hit them like a punch to the gut. Melita and Amina both gasped, their hands instinctively moving to cover the small, sensitive spots that would soon be destroyed. The guard’s laughter echoed in their ears as he walked away, leaving them alone with the unbearable knowledge of what was to come.
The two girls looked at each other, their expressions a mix of sorrow and grim acceptance. Slowly, they sat down, side by side, and reached between their legs, their fingers finding their clits with a tenderness that was almost reverent.
"I guess... we should say goodbye," Amina murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
Melita nodded, her eyes glistening with tears she refused to let fall. "Goodbye to the last bit of pleasure we'll ever feel. I’ll miss it, you know? That tiny little part of me that made everything so intense, so alive."
Amina bit her lip, her fingers gently circling her clit, feeling the familiar rush of sensation that would soon be nothing but a memory. "Me too. It’s strange, isn’t it? To know that something so small can bring so much joy... and so much pain when it’s taken away."
They sat in silence for a moment, both of them lost in the sensation of their own touch, trying to memorize every last flicker of pleasure before it was ripped from them forever. The thought of the blade bisecting their clits, of that searing pain slicing through the very core of their womanhood, made their hearts ache with a sorrow that was almost physical.
But there was something else, too—a perverse, undeniable excitement. The idea that their final moments of life would be spent in the most extreme mixture of agony and pleasure, that their clits would be the first to feel the cold kiss of the obsidian knife, filled them with a dark, twisted thrill.
"Goodbye," Melita whispered, her fingers lingering for just a moment longer on her clit before she pulled her hand away, as if to preserve the last bit of pleasure for when it truly mattered.
"Goodbye my clit," Amina echoed, her own hand trembling as she too withdrew, leaving her clit to its fate.
They shared a final, bittersweet smile, knowing that soon, the blade would take everything from them, including the part of their bodies that had given them the most joy. And as they prepared themselves for the altar, they couldn't help but wonder if their clits would somehow feel that final, terrible pleasure—just before they were split in two.
- - -
As Melita and Amina sat together, still reeling from the grim news the guard had delivered, their friends—other young women from the tribe who had shared in their fears and sorrows—approached quietly. They had overheard the conversation with the guard and saw the despair in their friends' eyes. But instead of joining in the sorrow, they decided to take a different approach, one that might bring a twisted comfort to Melita and Amina in their final moments.
"Hey," one of the girls, Zali, said softly, kneeling down beside Melita and Amina. "I know what you heard sounds terrifying, but... maybe it's not so bad. I mean, what if having your pussy split in two and your clit bisected is... I don’t know, not the worst thing in the world?"
The girls exchanged doubtful glances, but Zali pressed on, her voice gentle but tinged with a mischievous tone. "Think about it this way: it's like the ultimate sensation, right? The most intense experience your body can go through. Maybe, just maybe, it could be... fun? In a dark, twisted kind of way."
Another friend, Izel, chimed in, her hand resting on Amina’s shoulder as she offered a comforting smile. "Yeah, who knows? It might be so intense that it feels like... like a final, amazing rush. A burst of sensation so overwhelming that it goes beyond pain, into something else entirely. Something that could even be a little exciting."
Melita and Amina stared at their friends, half in disbelief, half wanting to cling to the lies they were being fed. Zali, noticing their hesitation, gently reached out and touched Melita’s thigh, her fingers brushing up higher until they found the soft warmth of her pussy. "And maybe," Zali continued, her voice low and soothing, "if you let yourself go with it, you might even enjoy it, just a little bit."
Izel followed suit, her hand slipping between Amina’s legs, her touch light and teasing as she tried to bring some comfort to her frightened friend. "You don’t have to be afraid," she whispered, her breath warm against Amina’s ear. "We’ll help you get in the mood. Maybe if you’re already feeling good, the rest won’t seem so bad."
The gentle caresses of their friends, the soft, reassuring words, began to have an effect on Melita and Amina. Despite their fear, they couldn’t deny the warmth spreading from where their friends’ hands touched them, the subtle pleasure that made their bodies respond in ways that were almost involuntary. Zali’s fingers explored Melita’s folds with delicate precision, while Izel’s hand moved in slow, rhythmic circles against Amina’s clit, trying to stir up any feelings of desire that might overshadow their dread.
"See?" Zali murmured, her fingers slipping deeper as she sought to coax Melita into relaxing. "Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe it’ll be the last bit of fun we can have in this world."
Amina shuddered as Izel’s touch grew bolder, her friend’s fingers working skillfully to draw out a soft moan. "We’ll be with you," Izel promised, her voice sweet and calming. "And when the time comes, maybe you’ll be able to enjoy it. Maybe you’ll find some strange, dark pleasure in what’s happening."
Melita and Amina, their bodies responding despite the fear still lingering in their hearts, allowed themselves to be comforted by their friends’ touches. The warmth of their hands, the softness of their voices, helped to dull the sharp edge of terror, replacing it with a hazy, almost dreamlike state. As their friends’ fingers danced over their most intimate parts, they found themselves wanting to believe the lies, wanting to embrace the idea that maybe, just maybe, there could be some twisted enjoyment in the destruction of their bodies.
And as the night grew darker and the time of their sacrifice drew closer, Melita and Amina clung to that small, fragile hope, letting the pleasure wash over them, desperate to find some solace in their final moments of life.
- - -
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