Daughters and Sons of Aphrodite

CHAPTER 8

[Note: all characters in this work of fiction are at least eighteen years old.]

Sarah piloted her small, two-door car to a noiseless stop in the cobblestone parking lot. Looming over it was a large stone building. It resembled a Gothic cathedral. Built atop a low hill, it had a 360-degree view of Orchid Island. Jonas gaped as he looked up at its steep spires.

"No Ionic columns?"

"That was the style in our district," Sarah said. "But outside family districts, each Temple's built by a specific order. This one I think's run by the Order of Saintess Helen."

Jonas hauled open one of the heavy wooden entrance doors. It featured a delicately-carved, inlaid rose and orchid motif along its edges. The iron door frame resembled an orchid flower, clearly intended to suggest they would be passing through a twelve-foot-tall vulva. Inside, a priestess, visibly pregnant, was sitting on a tall wooden stool. Her white and gold gown did not cover her pussy. Jonas knelt and kissed her clitoral hood. It was buried in tightly curled black pubic hair. She indicated he could stand. Sarah repeated the act.

While she was having her vagina worshiped, the priestess asked, "Children, how may I assist you?"

"He's here for inseminatorium training."

"Perfect," the young priestess said. "I was down there myself four months ago." She patted her stomach and blushed. "Please take the stairway to the basement. It's marked by the blue tabard." She indicated a dusty wall hanging in a far corner of the cavernous entry hall. Before they left, the priestess briefly kissed Sarah's pussy.

The pair walked over to the stairwell and down broad steps. Jonas nearly slipped at one point. The floor had been polished smooth by untold millennia of foot traffic.

Earlier that morning, after sex, prayer, morning ablutions, showering and breakfast, Sarah explained to Jonas that she had received an email the day before from the Cult. He was to report to the Temple of Saintess Helen that morning. All newly adult males had to be trained, at some point, in the mechanics of Sacred Insemination, before the end of their first adult summer. Scheduling was often haphazard and last minute, for reasons only known to the Cult.

"One of your duties as a male is to inseminate priestesses. Only gay men are exempt from this, although the more pious will sire a few sacred babies anyway," Sarah had explained over breakfast. "It is straightforward for the most part. But there are some rules and etiquette to teach you. Normally, you'd have read about this in Book Three, but the scheduling was a bit funny in your case."

"Is it like going to temple, except after Recounting, Her Holiness and I have sex?"

"Not exactly. Remember, like all women, the priestess is not actually having the baby, it's the All Mother herself. Holy women, as a show of maximal piety, must let the Mother choose the Sire."

Jonas looked perplexed at first. Then his face relaxed. While shocking, Sarah's explanation was consistent with Cult doctrine. Even growing up, they had been taught in church that all humans (heathens did not count) were Children of Aphrodite. Now that he was an adult, he understood that this statement was meant more literally than he had imagined. 'Letting the Goddess choose Her Sire is clearly more pious,' the young man thought.

"How many babies do they need to carry?"

"A few of my sisters have joined the Cult over the years. They had to give birth within the first eighteen months after turning eighteen. Unlike academic track kids, girls in theological high school transition to a temple seminary the moment they turn eighteen, regardless of what part of the school year that falls into. It makes the last year of twelfth grade a bit of a joke academically. Students leave at different times so grading is a real bitch and most teachers just give up."

"How does Aphrodite do the choosing?"

"Priestesses, whenever they're ovulating, have to spend around an hour every day in the inseminatorium and take at least one man's sperm inside them. You'll see how it works, but they can't choose or even see the men who fuck them."

"Still don't get it."

"The priestess is ceding all control over insemination to the Goddess. The All Mother choose whose sperm makes Her pregnant."

"Can't she plan to have some man she already knows come around that time? It's not like she won't know when she's ovulating."

"Priestesses are the least likely people to commit heresy like that. But sure, people are people. Even so it would be nearly impossible. You'll see: each inseminatorium is large. And my sisters said they didn't know which breeding room they'd be in, or even what time of day. Sometimes they found out at the last minute they'd be inseminated at a different temple entirely! And unlike you, most men can only ejaculate a few times before they're spent for a while, even with paste. So even if the man the priestess knew was trying to find her, like maybe he could recognize her body somehow, he'd only be able to open a few doors at most. You can't just hang out there if you're not able to ejaculate."

"The Cult's really thought this through."

"That's what untold thousands of years of committees will get you. There are recalls though, so not every insemination is random."

"Recalls?"

"A priestess can recall any man who's inseminated Her in the past to get Her pregnant again. The man cannot refuse. One of my sisters has had the same sire for all Her babies so far."

"How's that not heresy?"

"Aphrodite chose the sire, so if the priestess likes something about one She chose, or finds it interesting to have all of her babies look more like genetic siblings, the Cult believes that the Mother doesn't care one way or the other. That would be very like Aphrodite, you know. Just like She doesn't care whether laywomen raise their carries as mothers or not."

"We are all Children of Aphrodite," Jonas recited, bowing his head.

"Precisely."

"So let me get this straight, say I'm a priestess. I get pregnant, I give birth, Her baby goes to the moms, then, don't I have to wait for my vagina to heal, and can't I take a break for a while after that?"

"Yes on everything except the breaks. No vacations. That's why you see so many priestesses who look pregnant. Even if they don't look it, they actually are just in the early weeks and not showing. Did you know that priestess are literally not allowed outside temple unless they're carrying?"

Jonas' jaw dropped. "That explains. A lot."

"The Cult requires maximal devotion, Jonas. A priestess can't go out among her flock without being an exemplar of Her faith. Exemplar means being pregnant at all times, to deliver maximum faith to Aphrodite. Your carrier would have been no exception."

"How long does that go on?"

"Til age fifty-two. After childbirth, they are confined to temple. A gynecologist checks them daily, after about a week's rest. Once cleared, they must start trying during every fertile period, and they must stay in temple until inseminated once more."

Jonas looked up at the ceiling while he performed quick mental arithmetic, based on his carrier's age. He didn't know her birthday, but one of his moms had once mentioned the year she was born in. "So I have thirty-one genetic brothers right now?"

Sarah nodded. "Sounds about right if your carrier's in her forties. It's especially beneficial when boy carriers like yours are part of the Cult. There's been a shortage of males lately."

X X X X

Now that they were standing in the long, cool hallway of the inseminatorium, Jonas better understood the mechanics that Sarah had described. The dimly-lit corridor extended far enough that twenty unmarked wooden doors, sporting the ubiquitous orchid and rose motif, lined each wall. With a total of forty rooms and no indication of which priestess was behind which one, it would be difficult to game the system, presuming one wanted to in the first place. Each door had a small slot above the handle, showing a colored tile from a rotating wheel. Red meant the room was occupied, green meant it was free, and gray meant the room was empty or locked for some other reason.

Sarah noticed a laminated sheet of paper hanging from a string at the bottom of the stairway. Her eyes went wide. As she read the text, her heart began to race. By the time she finished, she was practically wriggling out of her clothes. Not that there was much to wriggle out of. "Jonas, Jonas, you have to see this!"

Jonas was distracted by the form of a pregnant priestess. She was standing five doors down the broad, carpeted corridor. Her hands wrung nervously, as if she were outside an operating room waiting for a loved one's surgery to finish. When Sarah called out to him, he turned around and walked back. "What's up?"

"Honey, I'm so stupid! I forgot all about this! You simply must do it!"

"Do what?"

"Just read!" She shoved the sheet in his direction.

"A Call to Sons of Aphrodite," Jonas read aloud. "Please be informed that The All Mother Herself, in her great wisdom, has put forth a Decree. She has declared this annum, 2020, the start of a Cytherian Decade." Jonas stopped reading. "What's a Cytherian decade?" he asked.

"Just keep reading, honey."

"Last instantiated by the Goddess Herself 633 years ago, a Cytherian Decade represents the ultimate challenge of male piety. All eligible men shall compete to inseminate as many of Her Holy Proselytizers as possible for the following decade, which shall extend from the first day of the annum 2020, until the last day of the annum 2029.

"This directive represents a call from The All Mother Herself. Prove your piety by visiting inseminatoria as often as possible! As a reward, there shall be increasingly valuable rewards earned by the top thousand, top hundred, and top ten males. A grand prize, for the most productive male, shall come from the highest level of the Cult. The winners will be announced on the third Sunday of January in the annum 2030." Jonas' voice trailed off as the sheet went into pedestrian details. It outlined potential rewards (although not the grand prize), how insemination would be counted, and so forth.

"The grand prize comes from the highest level of the Cult! You simply have to take part, honey!" Sarah's clasped and unclasped her hands.

"Sounds like I'm automatically enrolled. All us guys are."

"That's not what I mean! You can win the grand prize, honey!"

"Sarah, it started five years ago! I'm way behind."

Sarah lowered her voice and bent forward. "The paste, honey! You could get so many priestesses pregnant!"

"Maybe. What about those Recalls?"

"What about them?"

"I'm not the best-looking guy."

"Don't undersell yourself. But you'll see! That won't be a problem because they can't see you when you inseminate them."

"Oh." Jonas thought. He was getting excited but wanted to temper his own expectations. He thought of another stumbling block. "Even if they can't see my face, they'll see me on the first recall, won't they? And they probably won't want to fuck me a second time if they can help it." He nodded in the direction of his overly large cock.

Sarah had already thought of this. "Don't worry! Remember pregnant women won't have any trouble with your size."

"But they won't be pregnant anymore."

"The Blessing of Vaginal Elasticity fades, honey, but not right away. Most priestess will have no trouble handling your penis for at least six weeks after childbirth. In fact, you have yet to realize this, but you are perfect for them! I can't wait until I'm stretchy down there too! Almost all them will be cleared to start fucking within about two to three weeks after having your baby. So unless they're colossally dumb, they'll actually want you because their canals will still be flexible. After I gave birth my vagina was loose for a while so I would have appreciated a man with your size!"

Jonas' heart began to race. Before he could ask any more questions, Sarah put a hand on his shoulder. The priestess down the hallway was waving to them with a frantic 'come hither' gesture. Sarah and Jonas walked over and both kissed her pussy briefly; the cleric seemed agitated and uninterested in more worship. She herself gave Sarah's clitoral hood a brief peck before standing back up and rearranging her robe over her heavily swollen belly. "This is somewhat unorthodox, Children, but I did clear it with a fourth ring."

"Clear what?"

"Young man, could you please attempt to inseminate the acolyte in this room?" The heavily pregnant redhead pointed to a door with the digit five engraved in stone above the frame. The glyph was carved in an archaic script used only within the Cult.

"I don't see why not," Sarah said. "But how are you even here? I've never seen this before."

"If you don't mind, could we all step inside? Son, could you scan your wristlet?"

Jonas hadn't yet noticed that next to each door frame was a square black rectangle. When he held his bracelet to door five's, a green light briefly flashed. He heard a loud click as an electronically-actuated lock disengaged. Jonas, Sarah and the priestess entered the room. Sarah locked the door behind them.

Jonas' heart lurched when he saw the naked young woman before him. She was on her knees. Her head and hands were not visible. They were on the other side of a wall. Foam had been sprayed around the three holes that her head and hands had been put through. Her tummy was supported by a small, leather-wrapped support that let her round boobs hang down freely. It looked somewhat like a small pommel horse, except lower, and without the handles. The position allowed the girl to have her butt out, her knees on the floor, and her legs spread enough that her many-layered, structured vulva hung down like an animal's. Her sex was scrupulously free of pubic hair.

Above the hole her neck disappeared into was a small hanging plaque depicting a circle with an arrow coming out of it: the universal symbol for maleness. There was also a small chalkboard embedded in the wall. It had "40" scrawled on it. Next to that was a large digital countdown timer. The tall red numerals read "29:53" and the second number was decrementing every second. Lastly, there was a door on the back wall. Presumably it provided access for someone to help the priestess extract herself from pillory, without having coming in through the common hallway.

"I'm Sister Megara. And sorry for rushing you in here, I just didn't want anyone to overhear unnecessarily. As I said, this is all a bit unorthodox." She took a deep breath and gestured towards the chalkboard. "As you can see, Eurie here is very close to the deadline."

"My apologies, Your Holiness," Jonas interrupted. "Deadline?"

"How new is he?" Megara looked at Sarah.

"It's his third day, Your Holiness."

"Oh! So you don't know, Son. When acolytes turn eighteen, they have eighteen months to conceive Her first child. It's rare, but not unheard of, for an acolyte to fail. Maybe one in a few thousand. Unfortunately my girl Eurie here might be one of them. It's more likely with Y-carriers like her. They're much harder to impregnate."

"'Your girl'?" Jonas asked. "Pardon my ignorance, but I thought priestesses cannot be mothers, Your Holiness."

"True, we cannot. Or rather, we can, but only by leaving the Cult and then going to university to get the appropriate degree. That said, I carried Eurie, and since she grew up in the same family district I preach in, I got to know her well. We get along so nicely! She's close to being a daughter to me."

"I see."

"She entered the theological track because of me, you know." Girls interested in becoming priestesses began training at age thirteen when, as dictated by Book Two, females had to choose between academic, trade, theological, or military track schools. Males could only choose academic or trade. Each choice greatly affected one's future. Nobody could join the armed forces without attending military academies, for example. "The poor girl has been trying for, well, you can see, around seventeen months. She's been checked out many times by her gynecologist. There's nothing wrong medically. Seems like colossally bad luck."

"Bad luck, Your Holiness?"

"Y-carriers can only be inseminated by Y-chromosome sperm. And only a small percentage of men's sperm carries it. The temple gynecologist said that some unlucky girls' eggs have a naturally thicker zona pellucida -- that's the membrane surrounding the egg -- which further reduces the chance of conception. There's no way of testing for it, but her theory's that Eurie's eggs have this issue. So she's doubly-cursed, in a way. It's so bad that Sister Superior gave her permission to stay in these breeding rooms much longer than normal for a Y-carrier.

"Anyway, like I said, she's as close to being daughter to me as my calling allows. It's just tearing me apart! That's to say nothing of her. She's already devastated!" By this point the priestess had tears in her eyes. Sniffles interrupted her narrative every few words. Sarah went over to hug her.

"What do you want me to do, Your Holiness? Other than the obvious."

"Could you start fucking Eurie quickly and try to cum as fast as you can, then immediately take paste and fuck her again before the time limit? She hasn't given up, and I want her to have every possible chance. You never know which sperm will finally break through. It's a pure numbers game." Megara looked anguished. "You haven't taken paste yet, today have you?"

Jonas could never lie to a member of the clergy, so he answered carefully. "I can take paste again, no problem!" He had in fact taken it that morning, which had been a busy one. First he and Sarah had fucked. She had made it clear she wanted more rough sex that morning. He came inside of her twice, both times during a simulated rape where she had fought back with all of her strength and repeatedly demanded that he stop. Then Jana and Veronika had showed up. He fucked Veronika once, and her mom twice. Veronika was still sore, so only got fucked the once, whereas Jana wanted to ensure She got pregnant as soon as possible, to synchronize with her daughter. The priestess did not need to know any of that, and it seemed dangerous to let a member of the clergy know about his paste tolerance, even with an oath.

Megara either did not pick up on the subtlety of his answer, or else she pretended that she hadn't. "Wonderful! Please hurry, once that timer hits zero the door will unlock automatically, and you'll have to leave." Megara walked over to Jonas and lifted his shirt over his head. Then she squatted down and pulled off his pants. Jonas was used to this behavior by now, fully aware that he'd have no real control over his sex life for the rest of his life. This went doubly true when a priestess was involved.

When Jonas' rock hard cock popped out, Megara rocked back on her heels. She reflexively made the Delta of the All Mother in front of her chest, which involved describing a triangle with the fingers of her right hand, first touching left shoulder, then right shoulder, then her bare pussy. The family district version of this gesture stopped at the stomach rather than groin. The cleric's face was aghast. "That's going to hurt! My baby's vagina is narrow."

Perhaps because of the role play Sarah and Jonas were now engaging in, the priestess' exhortation did nothing to quell his ardor. Still, it was only right to defer to her judgment. "We don't have to do this--" he started to say.

Megara interrupted. "No, Child, she cannot be choosy here. Just, please, be gentle with my baby?" The priestess looked on the verge of tears again.

"Of course, Your Holiness."

Jonas stepped down into a sunken area of the floor where he could stand between Eurie's spread legs. The pale, bare butt squirmed in front of him. Presumably she could detect his proximity even though she couldn't hear anything. His cock was several inches below her bare vulva. She had no pubic hair, and her curvy butt hid the rosebud of her anus in its cleft. "Adjust your height with those," Sarah said, pointing at some wooden boards on the side of the room. They were stained with numerous discolorations and Jonas suspected it was from the accumulation of years' worth of dried semen.