Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 15:55:20 -0800 (PST)
From: Selena Anders <selena33_ca@yahoo.com>
Subject: Parvah-3

Winter is coming on, and the days are getting shorter and darker.  All
of the other girls at Victoria Academy are getting ready for Christmas
or Chanukah, but we people of the desert don't share that celebration.
Our men note that the sun seems to have its least power around now, and
consider it an unlucky time.  My little sister Shira complains to our
mom that everything seems so dreary for us, compared to people of other
religions.

My mom and I share a secret smile, as Mom tells Shira, "Don't be
afraid. Now that you have been introduced to the rite of Parvah, you
can come to the special evening on the solstice."  Shira perks right up
at this news, and starts to ask all sorts of questions, but Mom says it
should be a surprise.  For the next few days I have fun teasing little
Shira about the fun she will have, but I can't tell her yet.  She gets
more and more excited as the day of the solstice draws near.

On the big day, our father dresses all in black and goes to the Temple
to pray.  Our women are not allowed in the Temple, or even on the grass
around it.  Instead, Mom and Shira and I get in the car and go to
Parvah.  On the way, Mom tells Shira the ancient legend:  "In the old
country, when the nights are long, it is the time of the night-blooming
jasmine, the most beautiful and fragrant flower in the desert.  And so
tonight is our women's festival of perfume.  It used to be that
everyone wore the oil of the Jasmine flower, but nowadays everyone
wears whatever perfume they like.

"Over a thousand years ago, our people met some crude and wild tribes
who called themselves the Celts.  They had no real culture or manners,
but they did have a tradition of offering hospitality to strangers.
Our men are too proud to learn anything from such barbarians, but we
women adopted this tradition on the occasion of the perfume festival.
So tonight, three of the wise women of our Parvah will go out into the
streets to invite a pale-skinned woman to join in our celebration.  I
will be one of those three, so you must do as Misha says, and behave
yourself while I am gone."

Mom wheels into the parking lot just as the sun is setting, and the
three of us enter the windowless stone building.   There are a lot of
women there, ranging in age from around 10 to 90, but most are in their
twenties to forties.  There are so many women that Shira and I have to
share a cubicle to hang our clothes in as we undress each other.  Mom
doesn't get naked, since she has to go out again to find the special
guest, but she does open her purse and get out two tiny bottles,
handing one to each of us.  "These are pure essential oil of Gardenia."
she tells us.  "Use only a tiny dab at a time!"

Then Mom has to go and find the others who will go with her to find the
Guest.  The Parvah garden has no electric lights, since it usually
relies on the glass roof to let in the sunlight, but on this occasion
after dark it seems that there are candles everywhere, transforming it
into a fairy garden of mystery.  Candles are placed on the edges of the
paths, or set into the soil of the gardens.  Many women carry small
candles in their hands.

Following the ancient tradition, Shira takes my clothes and hangs them
up, then I remove hers.  As I kneel before her to pull her panties
down, I kiss her belly and quickly flick my tongue across the top of
her little-girl slit.  She giggles happily.  As I stand up, I give her
Misha bead a little swing, and she shivers with delight as it bounces
against her sex.

Suddenly Shira's special friend Ninya comes running up to greet us.
She is dressed in earrings, bracelets, and the traditional chain with
her little Misha bead, and looks absolutely adorable.  This is the
night for all women to show off their finest jewelry, without the
distraction of clothes.  Women all around us glitter in the light of a
thousand candles.  Earrings glisten, facetted Misha-beads twinkle, and
wrist bangles tinkle.

Ninya's mother approaches us, moving more slowly but more elegantly
than her daughter.  "Greetings, Misha and Shira, daughters of Ravi.  I
thank you for being such good friends to Ninya."  The gold filigree
collar studded with tiny diamonds, and the matching belt that supports
her Misha-bead, must have cost a fortune.  But even so, her beautiful
eyes shine brighter.

I remember that her name is Karima, as she reaches up and draws my head
down to share a quick kiss.  She is shorter than me, but her lips are
full and rich, and I feel honoured to be greeted lip to lip.  She
releases my head and smiles, then begins the most formal woman-greeting
of our people.  It is just a little ritual, and most of the year the
greeting is done with water, but on the solstice it is so lovely to do
it with perfume.

Karima upturns her little perfume bottle, covering the opening with a
fingertip to just get a tiny bit of perfume on her finger.  She reaches
to touch my pubic mound, just above my slit, and says in our ancient
language, "May you have healthy children."  Still looking into my eyes,
she touches each of my excited nipples, saying, "May your breast have
the strength to nourish your children."  After getting a tiny bit more
perfume on her finger, she touches the center of my forehead, "May your
children grow up in wisdom."  Then she touches between my breasts, "May
you and your children face the world with courage."  And finally she
refreshes the perfume on her finger before touching me once again just
above my Misha, "May you and your children grow in joy."  As she
touches me there, she jiggles my Misha chain, and my bead bounces
happily against my clit.  Ninya's mom kisses me again, then smiles and
said, "You kids have fun!  And don't forget to pass on the blessing!"

So Ninya and Shira and I set off among the candle-lit paths.  It seems
like every bench along the way is occupied with older girls or women
making love.  Gasps of pleasure and moans of delight echo around the
garden, blending with the soft sounds of someone playing the komora, a
kind of old bronze flute.

Suddenly my kid sister, Shira, gasps.  "Look!" she points.  We have
come upon the sacred well, and there is an awful sight.  There is our
own Parvah Priestess, hanging from the symbolic chain of the old
well-bucket.  She is bound up by her wrists to the chain, and her
ankles are shackled to the ends of a staff about 4 feet long, spreading
her legs wide as she hangs above the well.  She must have twenty pounds
of gold jewelry hanging from her, which could only make her discomfort
greater as she dangles there.

"Welcome, ladies."  A voice comes from a little lady huddled in a black
robe beside the well.  "Is any of you a virgin?"

We three quickly look at each other, then I answer.  "All three of us
are virgins, as we have not ever been with a man."

"That is good," comes the old woman's voice. "For the Priestess can
only be freed by the blessing of a virgin, and so the Cycle continues."
 The old lady struggles to her feet and shuffles off.  We try to get
her to wait and tell us what to do, but she vanishes down a stone path,
leaving us with the hanging Priestess.

"Now what do we do?"  Ninya whispers.  "We can't just leave the
Priestess hanging there!"

I'm three years older than either Ninya or Shira, and have been coming
to Parvah for lots longer, so it should be up to me to figure out the
riddle.  How could a virgin bless the Priestess?  Usually it works the
other way around.  Then it came to me.  Beautiful Karima has just given
me the answer!  At least I hope so.

I need to be able to reach the Priestess' forehead, but it is too high.
I don't think that Ninya and Shira are strong enough to lift me.  I
look around and my eyes fall on the little table that holds the silver
cups for the initiation rite.  "Come on!  I whisper to the younger
girls.  "Put all these cups on the edge of the well!"

The kids don't understand why, but they do as I ask.  Then I tell them,
"Now we have to move the table right next to the well, in front of the
Priestess."  It is heavy, but with both of them on one end and me on
the other, we move it.  I climb up on the table, and ask Shira to hand
me the little bottle of Gardenia oil.  Now I can reach right up to the
top of the Priestess's head, and the words of Ninya's mother echo in my
mind, "You kids have fun!  And don't forget to pass on the blessing!"

I get a bit of perfume on my fingers and reach to touch the Priestess'
dense, furry bush.  "May you have healthy children." I whisper.  Amidst
all that dark, curly hair I miss the traditional spot for touching the
perfume to her, and I feel my finger slide down her moist slit.  The
Priestess moans softly as I withdraw my finger, sliding it across her
moist Misha.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  At least now I know she is
alive.

My finger is so wet that I don't get more perfume on it before reaching
toward the Priestess' nipples. "May your breast have the strength to
nourish your children." I told her.  Not wanting to half-do my job, I
carefully circle each of her hard nubs with my wet fingertip, and she
moans again, more loudly this time.

I get some more of the Gardenia perfume on my finger before I reach up
to touch the Priestess' forehead.  I feel her warm breath on my wrist
as I touch her almost between the eyes and repeat, "May your children
grow up in wisdom."

With more perfume I touch her heart, "May you and your children face
the world with courage."  My heart too leaps as I se her eyelids
flutter open for the first time.  Her jaw moves as if to talk, but
there are no words I can understand.  I start to panic, and fumble my
bottle of oil and dump a lot of it all over my hand, coating my fingers
and palm in the powerful scent of gardenia.  Desperately I reach out to
complete the blessing, "May you and your children grow in joy."

The Priestess doesn't respond much.  She just moans a bit, so I rub her
harder between her thighs.  Her tongue flicks out to moisten her lips,
so I look down, "Quick, Shira!  Give me one of those cups, full of
water!"  Shira scoops up some water in a silver cup and hands it up to
me.  I hold it to her lips, and I think she drinks a bit, but most of
it runs down her chin and drips onto her breasts.  She whispers
something and I stand on tip-toe to hear.  "... rub me hard.  Make me
cum!"  It seemed strange to me, but I do it.  I start to rub her damp
pussy, and she groans, "Yes.  Yes.  Oooohh, lick me!  Love me!"

Even with her legs spread wide like that, it is hard for me to crick my
head back to lick her, but I try.  Then I feel a banging against my
shins.  I look down, and there is Ninya's little face staring up at me.
She and Shira are holding the ends of the pole, and Ninya is
whispering, "Step over it!  Step over the pole!  Put her legs up on her
shoulders!"

I should have thought of that.  I step over the bar and my two friends
pull the Priestess over the table so I can duck and then stand back up
with her thighs resting on my shoulders.  I attack her Misha with my
tongue and push two fingers up inside her vagina.  Somehow I just know
that we have to make her cum quickly, so then we can let her down.  She
has a big fat Misha, and in less than a minute she starts to wail, "Oh
Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"

And then a miracle happens, or at least it seems like it.  The
Priestess cums, but not with just a shake and a shiver.  She cums like
a waterfall, gushing woman-juice all over my face.  The chain starts to
rise, pulling the Priestess up with it, and I have to move fast to keep
her leg pole from knocking me down into the well.  As the Priestess
soars toward the ceiling, her vagina continues to spew its holy nectar,
which falls into the well.  She disappears into the darkness of the
rafters, and her flow slows to a stop.

"Wow!  Did you see that?"  Ninya asks, as I sit down on top of the
table.  "That was so weird!"

"But so beautiful!"  Shira adds.  "I love the way the candle-light made
her cum look all golden!"  The two excited younger girls keep on
chatting excitedly as I just sit there, stunned, with the Priestess'
holy blessing dripping off me.

A few minutes later, I hear a tiny noise from the direction where the
woman in black had gone.  I look up, and there is the Priestess!  She
is wearing big golden cuff bracelets and all her other jewelry.  She
walks right up to the three of us and simply says, "Thank you."

"How did you DO that?" Ninya asks with wide eyes.

"How, is not as important as why." the Priestess answers.  "Let's put
the table back, and I'll tell you all about it."  So we carry the table
back to its place and put the cups back too, then we all sit down on
the edge of the well to hear her explanation.  "A long time ago, on
solstice night, the women were gathered in a Parvah garden in the
homeland, just as we are now.  A lot of bad men from the hills came
raiding, hoping to catch some women to make into slaves.  They burst
into the garden where the great Priestess named Ishar was teaching, and
making the prayers.  She was very beautiful, and the men rushed to grab
her, but she fought and bit and scratched until they knocked her on the
head.  They tied her to the bucket chain, and lowered her into the well
to get her out of the way.  Then they started to attack the other
women.  The only one they didn't attack was a little girl like you, who
hid and started to pray to the Goddess to save all of the women.  The
Goddess heard her prayers, and sent to her Priestess a great orgasm.
Her cum spewed out so rich and fast that the level of the well started
to rise.  It rose so much that Ishar floated to the top of the well in
a gush of her own cum.  It overflowed the top of the well and flooded
the whole garden, inside the Parvah walls.  All of the evil men in
their heavy armor could not swim, and drowned.  But all of the naked
women helped each other, and lived.  And that is why, to this day, one
of the signs of a Parvah Priestess is that she cums in large amounts of
woman-nectar."

"But how did you..." Ninya starts to ask, but then there is a great cheer
from the far end of our garden.

I know what that means, but the others don't, since it is their first
solstice at Parvah.  "Come, children," the Priestess says.  "It is time
to greet the Guest!"  So we follow her down the path, past the pool of
initiation, past the beautiful candle-lit flowers and trees, past the
benches so recently full of lovers, to the open area near the door
where dozens of other women stand around with their candles.  In the
middle of the clearing are my mom, and two of her close friends, and a
pale skinned woman we have never seen before.  She is tall compared to
our people, about 5'7", and looks broad shouldered under her black
leather jacket.  Below that she wears blue jeans and biker boots. She
is looking around in wonder.  My mom whispers something in her ear,
then the three friends retire to undress each other, leaving the Guest
standing alone among a throng of nude strangers wearing tons of
glittering jewelry.

The Priestess steps forward.  "Welcome, Stranger.  What is your name?"


The Guest regards the beautiful woman dressed only in gold and gems.
"Cassie." she says clearly, then after a pause, "Are you people for
real?"

"Very real," our Priestess tells her, "And tonight your pleasure shall
be ours.  May we begin by taking your coat?"  I can see it in the
woman's face as she decides to give herself up to the moment.  Several
women approach her as the Priestess unzips her jacket, and someone
behind her pulls it off and takes it away.  She is wearing an old
lumberjack shirt with the arms cut off to make it a vest, and I can see
a tattoo on her right forearm.  It shows a woman with an impossibly
curvy figure, dressed mostly in leather straps, and holding a big
sword.
Slowly and sensuously the women remove the Guest's shirt, boots,  jeans
and panties.  She has no bra, but her firm breasts don't seem to need
one.  There is an excited murmur among all the women who are standing
behind her, and I wonder why.  They are pointing at her back, and
whispering to each other.

My mom comes back from undressing, and brings with her a glittering
robe made of the sheerest silk, tinted with saffron and shot with real
gold threads.  By tradition it is just a Parvah dress, the kind our
women used to wear for protection from the sun in the open-air Parvah
gardens under the desert sun.  But it is the best one we have, and is
kept only for the Guest.  I run to help my mother with it, to help her
put it over the Guest's shoulders, but really I just want an excuse to
see the Guest's back.  I get my wish, and see that her back is covered
in an incredibly beautiful tattoo of a Dragon.  It is all red and
green, and surrounded by orange flames.  It stares at me from her left
shoulder blade, and it's long scaly tail lashes down just to the right
of her spine.  Its big wings go right up on her shoulders.  As I help
my mom put the golden robe on her, I actually touch the Dragon's wing.

The woman named Cassie looks over her shoulder at me.  "You like my
Dragon?"

"It's beautiful!"  I tell her, "Just like jewelry you never have to
take off!"

She seems to like that, and asks,  "Ok, what's next?"

My mom smiles, "Anything you like.  Our garden and its pleasures are
yours."

Cassie thinks for a moment, "How about a drink?  Then you can show me
around."

"Certainly.  Misha, why don't you bring Cassie a Sekhmet cocktail?" my
mom says, and I run to get it.

The crowd of women who had gathered around to see the Guest is
beginning to thin out, as women go back to their own pleasures, and
there is a crowd around the bar, but somehow I manage to get the drink
and carefully take it back to the Guest.  She sips it.  "Mmm, this is
good! Why is it called that funny name?"

I know this story, so Mom lets me tell her as we begin a stroll around
the garden.  "Did you ever hear of the Amazons?  They were big strong
warrior-women, sort of like you, or maybe like that woman on your arm.
A particularly nasty bunch of them were called the Sekhmet troop, which
means lioness.  They terrorized people from Egypt to Baghdad.  The
rumor was that they loved to drink blood.  One day our people heard
that the Sekhmets were in the area.  The men went into the big tent to
have a war counsel, but hours later they couldn't decide what to do.
So we women asked our Parvah Priestess, and she told us to get all the
beer we could find, and color it with pomegranate juice to make it look
like blood.  She said to put it out in big jars all around the camp and
the Parvah enclosure.  Later that night the Sekhmet women arrived.  The
first thing they found was all these jars full of blood red liquid, and
they started to drink it.  They all got drunk and fell asleep, and then
our women crept out and stole all of their swords.  When they woke up
the next day and found they had no weapons they all ran away.  But
there is a rumor that some of them were so surprised that we women of
the well could defeat the mighty Sekhmets, that they became followers
of Parvah too.  So now you know what's in your cup."

"That's a neat story."  Cassie says as our walk takes us past a dark
opening beside the path.  "What's in there?"

"Come in and see!" my mom is happy to get a word in.  The place Cassie
asked about is a little conversation pit.  It's a circular bench with
just a little gap in the side to enter by.  The back of the bench is 6
feet high, and the entry-way is turned slightly away from the path to
assure privacy.  The white marble glistens in the light of Mom's single
candle.

"This is nice.  What do you do here?"  Cassie asks.

"Oh," my mom looks coy, "Just talking, sharing, making love..."

"You mean you really...?"  Cassie is interrupted as my mom flows up
against her and kisses her.

After a moment, Mom breaks off the kiss and looks up into Cassie's
eyes. "Yes, we really."

The full light of comprehension dawns on Cassie's face.  Her hands go
to the sash of her golden gown, and untie it.  Mom and Cassie's eyes
are still locked, but somehow the relationship suddenly changes.  Mom
starts to look a bit like a doe caught in a car's headlights; as
Cassie's hands slide up her arms.  Cassie's big strong hands press down
on Mom's shoulders, and Mom sinks down onto the bench, absently setting
her candle aside.

For a moment Cassie stands towering over my mom, then slowly she sinks
down to kneel between Mom's knees.  She shrugs her shoulders and I
catch the golden dress as it slips down her arms.  I carefully fold the
sacred dress, and set it aside on the opposite side of the circular
bench.  When I turn back, Mom is leaning back with her eyes closed, as
Cassie is bending over her to place a kiss between her breasts.  Slowly
she makes little licks down Mom's little tummy.  At the same time
Cassie's hands hook under Mom's knees, lifting and separating them,
until Cassie's tongue reaches her misha.

I kneel down beside Cassie's hip, and my eyes are torn between looking
at my mom's lovely open pussy as Cassie slowly licks it, and looking at
the fascinating Dragon on Cassie's back.  I've heard that it takes
hours and hours to do a big fancy tattoo like that, and it hurts an
awful lot. Maybe Cassie is one of those Amazon warrior women, if she
could take all that pain.  I put a hand on her bum, and feel hard
muscle there.  My fingers are drawn as if by a magnet to her sex, and I
start to rub her outer pussy lips as I try to stare down the unblinking
Dragon on Cassie's back.

"Go ahead, kid!  Do me with your fingers!"  Cassie gasps, then returns
her mouth to my mom's wide-open pussy.  With a little feeling around to
find her opening, I slip two fingers in her vagina.  Her cunt muscles
are so strong, it almost feels like my fingers are in her mouth, with
her biting down on them.  "Give me more!  Do it harder!"  Cassie
croaks, and I obey.  My mind goes dizzy and I am finger-fucking a
Dragon.  The Dragon slams back into my hand, with an unspoken demand
that I push into her harder and harder.

Dimly in the distance I can hear my mother's rhythmic chant, "Oh, Oh,
Oh, OH, OH, OH!" and I know she is about to cum.  Somehow I squeeze a
fourth finger into the Dragon's cunt, and both women start to make the
sounds of climax.  My mother's "OHHHHH!" mixes with the Dragon-lady's
"ARRGGGHHHH!" in a sound that is not unfamiliar in the Parvah garden.

I withdraw my soaking fingers from the Cassie's sex, and start to lick
her nectar from them, and simply wait in case there is anything else
the Guest desires.
=========
Dear Readers, my very first story in the Nifty Archive, and I still
think one of my best, is called 'Chloe's Story' and you can find it in
the lesbian/sf&fantasy section.  Let me know what you think.

love,   Selena