The three of them sat in a corner of the temple, intent on isolation. They’d arrived three days ago and still not spoken to anyone. The Mycenean women were beginning to grumble about what they viewed as snobbishness from these newcomers from Sais.

Cyprian tried to remind the disgruntled women that they, too, were shy at first. Arapotep dismissed Cyprian impatiently.

“They don’t even look at anyone to acknowledge that we’re all human beings! Do they think just because they have a slave that they’re better than we are?”

Cyprian chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. “Ara, I recall that you kept your robes wrapped tightly around you for nearly a week before you deigned to talk to us!”

The other women laughed in recognition of the Ara’s previous haughtiness. The memory was especially funny now because of Arapotep’s reputation as an especially enthusiastic rejoicer at their evening celebrations.

“But you did not cease to celebrate when I arrived as we have done for these three,” Ara countered. “I am restless with stifled desire – it is unnatural to live as we have been for their benefit!” Murmurs of agreement were heard among the women.

Cyprian nodded. “Yes, I know you’re right. We cannot continue to let the evenings pass without our enjoyment. Let us resume our festivities!”

The women clapped gleefully, immediately hugging one another with delight. Arapotep, victorious and strong, walked toward Cyprian, who saw the mischief on her face.

“I want to express my gratitude for your sage decision,” she said softly. Cyprian had always been fascinated by Arapotep’s large breasts. As she moved toward her now, her steps sent tremors through them as they swayed slightly under her diaphanous gown. Cyprian never hid her desire for any woman and was therefore certain that Ara knew of her hunger for motherly teats.

“Suckle me, my child,” Arapotep instructed as she pulled an enormous mammary from the halter of her gown. She was indeed old enough to be Cyprian’s mother but the desire between the women transcended familial definitions.

Cyprian felt weak as the big, dark nipple skimmed her lips. Her tongue lapped at it instinctively. Arapotep groaned and stuffed as much of her fleshy orb into Cyprian’s mouth as she could.

As Cyprian sucked like a starving baby, Ara slowly lowered herself to sit on a stair near the fountain where they stood. Once she was seated, she positioned Cyprian so the younger woman lay with her head on Arapotep’s lap, her body stretched along the step. Ara’s bountiful tit sat on Cyprian’s face, nearly covering it. Cyprian suckled quietly, vaguely sensing the watchful interest from the other women.

Ara pulled the halter supporting her other mammary and scooped out another amazing hunk of titty flesh. Cyprian felt it swipe the top of her head as Ara wagged it suggestively at the ogling women.

“Who else would like to feast at my bosom?” Ara asked.
Cyprian’s blood raced at the prospect of sucking tit flesh with another women, and big, meaty tit flesh at that! Persephone, a well-endowed maiden herself, came forward and wordlessly copied Cyprian’s supine position, then hungrily gobbled Ara’s nurturing teat. Their host gasped with pleasure.

Cyprian was suddenly struck by her own obsession for a handful of breast to match her mouthful. How she loved an abundance of tits! She sucked and licked wildly at Ara but now released her grip on Ara’s soft mound on her face. She raised her hands overhead and groped for Persephone’s ripe young melons. Persephone stifled a small squeal in the back of her throat and arched her back in response to Cyprian’s touch.

“Oh, yes, Cyprian. Massage Persephone while you suck me.”

While Cyprian rubbed and sucked at the luscious titmeat that surrounded her, she observed the approach of other women. In moments, soft hands slid her gown up past her thighs, then parted her legs. The musky scent of her shaved venus mons wafted through the air briefly before a probing tongue expertly wound its way among her moist, private folds. The tongue lapped and sucked at her precious juices. Then, it frigged the crown of her venus mons, the center of her pleasure.

The touch was so perfect, Cyprian already dripped with sweet gratitude thanks to all the big, full breasts in her mouth and hands – she gave herself to the will of the gods, exploding with spastic release, her cries stifled by Arapotep’s mammoth tit in her mouth.

She heard the moans and cries of others, too, amidst the lapping and sucking as women gorged themselves on succulent venus mons and ripe titty. The whole temple smelled like the wet, aroused flower of female life.

“Cyprian!” Arapotep commanded loudly.

Cyprian, dazed from her intense orgasm, sat up slowly and looked at the older woman with some wariness. Ara’s tone frightened Persephone, who pulled away from her suckling at the grand breast. The other women broke off into separate groups and continued to feast at the bodies they had craved for three days.

Arapotep rose from her place on the stair and extended her hand to Cyprian, who accepted it and moved closer. Ara, standing now at the top of the stairs at the highest place of worship, placed her hands on Cyprian'’ shoulders. Cyprian took the cue to kneel two stairs below the woman.

Ara stood with her legs apart, and lifted her gown to reveal her large venus mons covered with thick, dark hair. Cyprian’s own succulence swelled with a new wave of expectation as she prepared her mouth to show devotion at the sacred V of Arapotep.

She needed no provocation other than the sight of Ara’s hairy richness. What an honor to eat the venus mons of this mother figure! Cyprian nuzzled into the aromatic thicket before burrowing into the engorged, slippery lips.

She had eaten at the hot, steamy center of Arapotep before. She knew how Ara loved to have her venus mons pulled wide open to expose her deep pink labia and tantalizing hole. Her pleasure center would grow hard like an acorn when she knew her beautiful privates were on display.

Cyprian glanced upward as Ara began to thrust her pelvis forward and back in tandem with Cyprian’s licking. The movement made her huge breasts sway and bounce against each other. Cyprian immediately began to finger herself at the site of those jiggling titties and the feel of the hairy wetness smearing all over her face.

As she ate Ara with gusto and tried to catch glimpses of those nipples dancing overhead, she stuck her exposed ass into the air so that the three newcomers could see her playing with her hot, swollen venus mons. She wanted them to watch the thick lips of her labia move sensuously around her busy fingers. Like Ara, she too loved to be watched; it was the reason she kept her venus mons free of hair.

Ara’s moans indicated she was soon to take her pleasure. Her big, hard pleasure center twitched ever so slightly under Cyprian’s skillful tongue. Feminine cream suddenly shot onto Cyprian’s nose and cheeks as Ara praised the gods aloud. Ara’s body shook in surrender while she stood, grinding her spasming sex into Cyprian’s grateful face.

Then, as usual, Arapotep pulled away suddenly. Cyprian was left kneeling, still licking the juice of the gods from her lips. Ara walked away, a distant look on her face, as if she was unaware of Cyprian. Cyprian knew the woman was in need of replenishment and would now rest on the tiny mat in her small chambers.

Cyprian watched her go then remembered the three novices. She turned around to look at them. The fertile-looking Jewish slave sat on the floor with the twins behind her. The younger women’s view of the festivities was partially blocked by the slave. Cyprian, drunk with sex, walked over to the isolated little threesome.

“Hello. I am Cyprian. The others and I welcome you to our temple.” She tried to be gracious but was very much distracted by Sarrah’s large, naked breasts.

“I am Sarrah,” the slave replied, with a throaty voice that appealed to Cyprian. “Thank you but I don’t think these activities are suitable for the eyes of my young ladies,” Sarrah replied sternly.

“No harm is being done here. No one is hurt. We are free to enjoy the pleasures available to us while we are prisoners of this temple. We love each other and seek only to bring joy to what would otherwise be a lonely existence."

“The twins I protect have only narrowly escaped the lewd and threatening advances of the evil King Nebuchadnezzar. They must grow up pure!” Sarrah insisted. Her tits trembled as she spoke so vehemently.

Cyprian knelt before her, slightly closer than necessary. Sarrah had a deep, rich aroma: a heady blend of frankincense and femininity.

“How do you suppose your young charges feel about your bare, bounteous breasts hanging in their faces all day?” she whispered, gingerly tracing the aureole of one of Sarrah’s heavy melons.

The woman lost her ability to speak and looked at her caressor with fear, gratitude and lust. Her silence encouraged Cyprian to take both breasts in hand and tweak the nipples.

As Sarrah slowly melted in Cyprian’s hands, the ritual wine tasting began only a few paces away. Three of the youngest women ushered a nubile, shy slave up to the small platform. There, they turned her on her head, which made the slave giggle.

One woman anchored her to the ground by embracing her at her chest, holding her tiny titties in her hand and squeezing now and then. Another woman raised a small urn into the air while the other held the slave’s hips steady and instructed the slave to open her legs.

Once the slave’s thighs were spread wide, the woman at her hips used one hand to cleave open the entrance to her sweet venus mons. Once the opening was made, the woman with the urn poured the contents of the vessel into the deep recesses of the slave’s juicy flower.

Much applause ensued and the slave squealed and wiggled with delight as the wine sloshed about inside her. A hollow bamboo stick was inserted into her soft hole and one by one, women sucked and drank the ambrosial wine from the loins of the lovely slave.

The twins watched the scene with rapt attention. Once the wine was gone, they returned their focus to Sarrah, who now lay on the floor, moaning as Cyprian straddled her face, facing the twins. She had two handfuls of Sarrah’s glorious tit flesh as she ground her dripping, hairless privates into the Jewish slave’s slurping mouth.

“Ladies, have you ever seen the magnificent venus mons of your protector?” Cyprian asked the twins breathlessly as Sarrah ate her out.

The twins, eyes like saucers, shook their heads mutely.

“Sarrah, spread your legs for your young charges,” Cyprian purred. Sarrah did not hesitate. Her meaty thighs opened slowly.

Tefnut, the more adventurous of the twins, ventured forward first. She touched the glistening lips of her protector and ran her finger along the length of the woman’s luscious folds.

Her sister, Nephthys, followed suit, but in her naivete, poked a finger directly into Sarrah’s drenched, creamy opening. Sarrah yelped in response and Nephthys drew her hand back in fear.

Tefnut continued stroking but turned to her sister with a calm, purposeful look. “Don’t stop. I think she liked it.”

Nephthys slid a finger into Sarrah’s wetness and it became clear that Sarrah did indeed like it. With youthful reasoning, she assumed more was better and slid in a second finger and then a third until her whole hand pumped away at Sarrah’s succulence.

Tefnut had located Sarrah’s pleasure button and frigged it wildly. As she watched Sarrah writhe with pleasure, watched her sister’s fist emerge and disappear into the slippery slit that oozed with juice, Tefnut began to finger herself in the same way she touched Sarrah. Soon, her busy fingers frigged two swollen love buttons.

When her sister saw Tefnut’s pleasure, she, too, placed her hand between her own legs. She found her own wet hole and stuffed her hand inside, calling out as it filled her.

Cyprian watched the twins and could control her lust no longer. As they fingered their own lovely centers and gave pleasure to their slave woman, Cyprian surrendered to Sarrah’s agile tongue between her soft thighs. She unraveled and screamed out her passion, bucking and jiggling on Sarrah’s face.

Tefnut was next. The tiny veins in her neck stood out and her eyes grew large as she trembled and let the waves of sublime pleasure undulate through her body. Nephthys, frightened by her sister’s reaction, froze with her hands inside herself and Sarrah. She stared alternately at Tefnut and Cyprian.

Sarrah’s venus mons twitched and spasmed – it was clear she was on the precipice of eruption. But Cyprian used the pause created by Nephthys to postpone Sarrah’s joy a bit longer.

She clapped twice at one of the slave women who instantly produced a large phallus. The straps dangled as the slave handed it to Cyprian.

Cyprian got to her feet and tied the smooth, mahogany phallus to her slim hips. She shot a steady but gentle look at the twins.

“Dear little Nephthys,” she grinned at the girl. “You keep your hand inside Sarrah just as you have. Tefnut, would you stand at Sarrah’s head and pull her legs up and toward you?”

The twins obeyed without complaint. Sarrah lay helpless and nearly insane with desire as Nephthys’ fist fidgeted in her hole and Tefnut pulled her legs up over her head.

Cyprian knelt before the inflamed venus mons with Nephthys’ little hand twisting and pumping. She paused while the same slave who gave her the phallus now poured a rose-scented unction over it. The phallus was intricately carved to portray the veins, head and shaft of its human model.

The twins watched closely as Cyprian eased the tip of the phallus into the waiting sphincter just below Nephthys’ wrist. As it slid in slowly, Sarrah moaned louder and louder. When it had sunk deeply inside, Cyprian began to thrust it into the wide-hipped Jewish slave. In less than a minute, Sarrah contorted and screamed at the intensity of both sacred orifices being reamed at once.

Cyprian pulled the phallus out slowly, instructing Nephthys to do likewise. Tefnut instinctively knew to release the ankles of her protector, gradually bringing the legs up and then lowering them to the floor. Sarrah, completely spent, fell asleep almost immediately.

“You both became women today,” Cyprian said affectionately to the awestruck twins. “How fortunate you are to have each other now to explore and pleasure further,” she added, caressing their small, budding breasts before she walked away.

No one saw her disappear. The festivities were in full swing and she knew she would not be missed until morning. She hated to leave but she had a mission to accomplish.

She arrived at noon, as the sun beat mercilessly on the dry soil and dusty ruins of the buried temple. She surreptitiously watched as the lone female excavator scraped carefully at the indiscernible objects around her.

The Akrotiri Peninsula was far enough away from the busy town of Hania to preclude the possibility of encountering any tourists. Most the area was off-limits to those without research credentials, anyway. The glistening Sea of Crete sparkled less than a kilometer away.

The excavator’s white blouse stuck to her skin with perspiration. Her short but shaggy black hair hung in semi-saturated waves on her head. In one hand, she held the dark phallus Cyprian had inserted into Sarrah.

The woman examined the phallus, strapless now with the passage of many centuries. A slow grin spread over her face. She put down her other small tools and stepped away from the spot she’d occupied probably for hours. Holding the phallus to the sunlight, she stroked it reverently. Cyprian noticed she had cleaned it thoroughly.

The woman walked only a few paces, over to a large blanket that lay open near her Jeep. Still grasping the phallus, she unbuttoned her shirt, then removed it and her bra. Cyprian stood nearby but out of sight.

Quickly, the woman’s shorts and panties lay in a pile with her shirt and bra. She stood naked in the brilliant sunlight. Her body was somewhat boyish: small breasts, flat stomach, not a significant difference between waist and hips. But she exuded a powerful sexuality that made Cyprian’s blood race. There was no doubt that she was destined to know the sacred phallus.

The woman lowered herself onto the blanket and sat holding the phallus to her face. Then, she lightly traced a line with the hard object from her cheek, down her neck, over her chest and breastbone, past her stomach, until she reached the fluffy dark hair between her legs.

She sat facing Cyprian and yet did not see her. But Cyprian saw her as she rubbed the tip of the phallus over her thick lips and love button. The woman’s legs were wide open with anticipatory pleasure. At last, the phallus sunk into the woman’s hungry venus mons, which devoured nearly all of it.

The woman arched her back and groaned as she pumped herself with the hard replica of the male organ.

Cyprian approached, stopping just short of the blanket. Her presence jarred the woman out of her preoccupation. Cyprian watched the woman’s eyes widen at the unexpected visitor in strange, flowing robes. But the pumping phallus did not cease its repeated plunging into her sweet, moist flower.

“Yes, that’s right. Don’t stop,” Cyprian urged quietly, knowing the woman was no longer in control of her own actions. Everything came from the phallus now.

“I am Cyprian. What is your name?”

“Beth,” the woman gasped between thrusts.

“How beautiful you look, pleasuring yourself with the sacred phallus that once gave so many women such joy! Another world awaits those who have tasted this joy.”

That said, she stood directly over Beth, one foot on either side of the Woman’s torso. Lifting her robes, she exposed her juicy, smooth venus mons for Beth to see from the ground. She slid her hand around her fleshy lips and over her hard little clitoris while Beth watched rapturously.

When Cyprian could see that Beth was near release, she inserted her whole hand inside herself, hoping such excess would satisfy her wild lust. She was not allowed to touch Beth until the phallus had pleased its wet, throbbing host.

Beth screamed with pleasure, her body quaking with what seemed to be years of stored pleasure. How happy Beth would be at the temple!

Cyprian’s venus mons clutched at her hand as she watched Beth undulate at the spell of the phallus. Her orgasm gripped her and she stood strong as her release threatened to destroy her balance.

As Beth lay naked and spent in the Cretan sunshine, she still held the phallus firmly in her hand by her side. Cyprian reached down and pried it gently from the woman’s hand. She then helped Beth get to her feet.

Without warning, she flung the phallus into the ruins. Beth protested and searched Cyprian’s face in confusion.

“It has done its work. It must remain with the temple where it draws its strength,” she explained. Beth’s anger seemed to abate.

Cyprian took Beth’s hand. “A place awaits you that you will never wish to leave. I can take you there,” she smiled.

“I can’t leave! I have work to finish here, a grant to fulfill. What kind of place are you talking about?”

Cyprian loved the fire in this woman! It would be a delightful challenge to persuade her.

“The journey will take you to new places in history. You will see things that will explain and even enhance your work!” She took Beth’s face in her hands and kissed her deeply, probing the recesses of her mouth with her tongue. “And you will know pleasure far greater than any you’ve ever known before.”

She felt the resistance in Beth’s body melt away. Beth nodded silently, resigned suddenly to Cyprian’s will.

The two women walked toward the temple, slowly disappearing with each step. Cyprian hoped they would arrive in time for the evening’s festivities.