Glory in your own Ecstasies

by Kimyō Tabibito (奇妙 旅人) and Tobias Stout


All Tamish temples, no matter how humble, have at least one room resplendent with lush places to sit, devotional art to contemplate, scripture and holy poetry to meditate upon, and an altar to each of the Four Gods. These altars are scattered with candles and incense lit in offering, or gifts of flowers and sweets to express gratitude for the services rendered at a temple. It is one of these public altars that Siwa tends for hir patron deity Atana, god/dess of Summerbright, She of the Thorn-Studded Whip. Siwa clears out offerings that have served their purpose, dusting along the statue of Atana baring one breast and anointing the deity’s forehead with a sandalwood and orange perfume.

Here at Siwa’s temple, like every other temple served by Adoravi priests, comfort and even indulgence are even more abundantly emphasized. A closer look at the parlor room would reveal devotional art of an erotic nature, tasteful and yet undeniably arousing images of the gods taking one another as lovers. The holy scriptures are copies of works like A Canticle of Sighs and The Submission of the Distant Goddess, complete with sacred illustrations of bodies, positions, and sexual rites. The altars, too, host icons not usually on display in typical neighbrohood temple, such as Vanth the Scorned’s kneeling image dressed only in rope bondage with an expression of defiant ecstasy on Her face.

Siwa cleans the four altars and bows to the deities in turn, reflecting on Their instructions passed down through the ages that founded the Adoravi order:

Through pleasure, you would find the gods;
Through union and divine ecstasy, you would give worship;
Through surrender, you would find power and strength;
Through command, you would find exaltation;
This I say to you: that your bodies become conduits of Our holy power
Dedicate yourselves to service through pleasure.
Thus is the way of the Four Gods made apparent.
Thus are you blessed to share Our hearts, and Our beds.

These are words that Siwa has taken to heart for over a decade, ever since sie dedicated hirself to the priesthood at a relatively young age. To lay with an Adoravi is to lay with the God/desses Themselves: Atana, the triumphant queen; Vanth, the distant-and-returning one; Neoynos, the tempered and silent, not often invoked in rituals of carnal desire, but present just the same; and Deywo, the eternally young, eternally joyful manifestation of spring. Though personally dedicated to Atana, Siwa helps worshippers connect with whatever god/dess they most need at the time, or even to all Four at once.

Satisfied with the state of the main parlor, Siwa disappears into hir private chambers for morning devotions and prayers. This space is decorated to please the senses, to invite one to linger over buttery soft leather and plush, jewel-toned velvets that also aid in muffling sound. A closer look would reveal hidden grips, metal rings, and padded straps to aid in the devotional work of hir worshippers. Sie lights incense at hir personal altar and, after some reflection, is moved to place Deywo’s icon at a place of honor this day. Deywo’s scents are lighter than the brash perfumes favored by Atana, but no less luxurious: calla lilies and peonies gently threaded with a hint of amber resin, warm and welcoming. Siwa anoints the icon and then hirself with these oils and sinks into a light meditation, opening to the words of the god/dess.

Though Siwa doesn’t have any appointments scheduled until late in the afternoon, sie isn’t surprised when a gentle chime draws hir out of meditation. Unplanned mornings are always such a delight because sie never knows who the god/desses would bring to worship in Siwa’s quarters. Sie rises from the meditation cushion and quickly preens before a tall mirror, satisfied with the fall of dark hair past hir shoulders and the dramatic sweep of kohl and eyeshadow around hir eyes. There’s a moment when sie can’t decide on a lip color but finally settles on a glossy neutral that emphasizes the natural amber tones of hir skin.

Siwa strides into the public lounge and sweeps into a deep bow before realizing who exactly it is that has come to worship. Sie smiles widely and spreads hir arms wide in a traditional Adoravi greeting that also serves as an invitation for a hug. “Saana,” Siwa says around hir grin. “The Four smile on this meeting. It’s so good to see you again.”

Saana, a young doctor Siwa had met at a temple function some weeks back, is soft and compact compared with Siwa’s lithe form. Today Saana wears a simple linen tunic fashionably embroidered with pronoun markers, and symbols marking them as a physician, along the neck, cuffs, and hem of the garment: E, em, eirs, repeated in a flowing green script adorned with flowers and other symbols of Deywo. Siwa’s robes have more traditional scrollwork down the full length of the sleeves, thread golden to represent Atana’s sunlight: Sie, hir, hirs. The Tamish, like their gods, have mutable bodies and mutable genders, and some individuals change themselves frequently enough that it’s simply good manners to check pronoun markers at every meeting. In fact, this week Siwa is experimenting with a hormone patch that temporarily transforms hir body from its birth configuration to one with a phallus, but keeps hir already flat chest.

Saana returns Siwa’s formal greeting before breaking into a smile of eir own and going to embrace eir friend. “Good morning, Adoravi Siwa. I hope I’m not intruding?”

Saana does not pull away from the embrace and Siwa takes the opportunity to nuzzle eir neck. Eir perfume is the same blend of calla lilies and peonies that Siwa had felt called to offer. Siwa can’t help but smile wider as sie realizes now why Deywo had wanted such a prominent spot on hir altar, if one of Their children is coming to call.

“You aren’t intruding at all, my friend. Morning devotions are meant to be interrupted. ‘Meditation’s nice, but living’s better,’ as the Four remind us.” Sie pulls back to look Saana over, pleased that hir friend had taken hir up on the invitation to visit during work hours. “You look well. Have you been assigned to a priest yet?”

Saana’s dark eyes shine with the same mischief that marks all Deywo’s own. “I woke with the desire to offer my body and pleasure, and your name in my mind. If you’re not available, I can make an appointment.”

The implication that Saana is here to worship with Siwa and no other isn’t lost on hir. Sie is flattered and, as with all Atana’s children, flattery will get one everywhere. “I am available for several hours, in fact. I would be honored to accept your offering on behalf of our deities. Come,” sie says, reaching for Saana’s elbow and gently steering em toward Siwa’s private quarters, “and these flowers, are they part of your offering as well? Or are they for me?”

Sie’s teasing but is pleased anyway to see the blush across Saana’s tawny features. They had spent much of their first meeting flirting with each other while their children played under the watchful eyes of their respective bondmates. Perhaps they would have done much more than just flirt that first day had Siwa’s child not instigated what all adults present now referred to as ‘The Jam Incident.’ There were no hard feelings among the parents of course, but it had rather put a damper on any burgeoning plans to visit a temple, or stumble into bed, that very afternoon.

Saana holds up the bouquet of wildflowers and says, “They are for both you and Deywo. I picked them this morning along the pastures just outside the city. This is golden aster, and this mountain angelica – though I suppose there’s nothing mountainous about farmland, is there?”

Siwa closes the door behind them and takes the bouquet carefully from Saana’s hands. “Are you nervous?” sie inquires softly as sie sets about putting the flowers in a glass vase.

Saana considers this as e takes in Siwa’s private room, the lush furnishings, the beautiful art on the walls. “No. Not in a bad way, at least. I suppose I’m just… excited. And surprised with how strong I heard Deywo’s voice this morning. I don’t think I’ve felt called to visit an Adoravi since I was, well, old enough.”

“I’ve found that the Four love to surprise us, especially your patron in particular.” Sie places the vase of flowers on the altar and makes a small sign of respect before turning back to Saana. “Let’s not let down the Sovereign of Spring, mm? What did He say to you when you listened?”

Saana flushes as Siwa’s voice drops suggestively. “Oh, what does He ever say about such things? He wishes that I give over myself to Them and accept His blessings in return. That I take and also give pleasure. Abundant pleasure,” e adds, as though that were up for question.

“I see. And is there a particular form you’d like to have this pleasure take?”

“I was thinking an ecstasy offering,” Saana offers. “If you’re amenable.”

Siwa’s breath catches for a moment. “I think you’ll find I’m quite amenable,” sie says. “Why this offering and not another?”

“I always enjoy the moment I forget how to speak,” Saana says, a bit of a tremble in eir voice. “When the pleasure overwhelms me and I know that I should be praying aloud but I can’t. I – I like that very much.”

“I like that as well,” Siwa murmurs, going to sit on a low-slung couch and gesturing for Saana to join hir. “A well orchestrated ecstasy offering can take time. We can extend the devotions as long as you’re comfortable, provided I can pull away sometime in the late afternoon to prepare for another worshipper.”

“I have nowhere else to be today.” Saana sinks to the offered seat, close enough to Siwa that their thighs and shoulders brush together. “Like Deywo, I’m very fluid in the positions I take. I want to return the offering to you, if you’re willing. I don’t want to spoil you for your worshipper tonight.”

“My dear, I think you’ll find that it would take a great deal more to interfere with the number of orgasms I’m able to produce in a given day,” Siwa chuckles. Sie reaches to stroke Saana’s hand with long, graceful fingers that glitter with metallic polish against soft skin. “I would be more than happy to oblige you.”

Saana catches Siwa’s fingers and gently strokes up hir knuckles, pulling a soft sound from hir lips. “I can’t help but think how very beautiful we’re going to be together,” e admits, “and that’s extremely vain of me, but I think Deywo will appreciate that vanity.”

“There’s nothing vain with appreciating beauty,” Siwa says with a tsk, lifting both their hands and kissing along Saana’s wrist. “It’s one of the best offerings we can give, short of losing ourselves in our own pleasure. And since we’re already planning that with the ecstasy offering…” Hir voice drops, head tilting to one side as sie smiles at Saana. “Why not give both?”

Saana shivers before reaching out to stroke a strand of Siwa’s hair behind hir ear. Eir fingers linger against Siwa’s skin and e murmurs, “My thoughts exactly.”

“Then we’re agreed?” Siwa asks, voice pitched low.

“Enthusiastically,” Saana breathes before Siwa leans in and captures eir lips with hir own.

‘Captures’ is the only verb that makes sense, Siwa is gentle, but sie still takes that first kiss from Saana, and then the second, and the third. Siwa’s senses are trained on hir friend, hir worshipper in this moment, paying attention to how Saana reacts. E tastes like jasmine tea and spiced buns; if only all kisses tasted as nice. Fingers trail from Siwa’s face down hir neck, touching bare skin.

Siwa makes soft, approving sounds as Saana’s fingers find the neat knot tied at the back of hir robes. Adoravi’s robes are, by necessity and design, made to be easy to take off, and Siwa’s are a cold shoulder style that easily fall away with a few strategic tugs.

Saana pulls back from the kisses, though eir hands keep stroking bare shoulders. “Before I get carried away and you have to catch me — limits. I don’t mind little pains, but I’m not interested in more than that today. Bondage is fine, if you were so inclined.” Saana flushes once more, but doesn’t shift away to put space between them for this conversation.

“I’m not in the mood for ecstasy through pain,” Siwa assures Saana, fingers sliding around the back of eir neck and rubbing gently. The spirit of Deywo moves in Siwa’s words, a flash of green in hir normally dark eyes. “I’d like to keep my plan to myself, unless you don’t like surprises, which is fine. I only ask if you have any further limits I should be aware of?”

Saana’s eyes widen at the green spark in Siwa’s eyes, throat working for a moment before hir voice, husking and wanting, says, “Surprise me. I promise this ritual isn’t the kind to touch on any other limits. I’m in your very capable hands, Adoravi.”

Oh, sie very much likes the sound of that. Siwa smiles, fingers curling through Saana’s hair. “Yes, you are, aren’t you?”

This next time they kiss, Siwa’s mouth lingers and hir teeth catch at Saana’s lips gently, never overbearing but enough to readily claim that sie is in charge. Saana gasps softly and presses closer, chasing that hint of teeth. “I’m sure you’re very pleased to have me here, aren’t you?” e asks with a knowing smile as the kiss breaks.

“It is one of the perks of the job, having beautiful people seek me out for small intimacies,” Siwa concedes with an amused smile “Come. This couch isn’t a starting position that befits our worship.” Sie stands and offers a hand to help Saana up, strong for all sie is lithe and graceful.

Siwa’s bed sits below a generous skylight, the sun at a perfect angle to catch the golden threads of the sheets and pillows just so. Sie sits on the edge, leaning back suggestively on hir arms. “It’s very comfortable. Please, make yourself at home.”

Saana quickly steps out of eir clothes and sets them to the side before stretching, arms raised, unashamedly posing. Siwa’s eyes linger, taking in every eir golden curves begging to be held and squeezed. Saana has just the faintest swell of breasts, enough to be a scant handful, and thick, dark nipples that make Siwa’s mouth water. A small roll of stomach rests just over a plump mons with carefully trimmed and shaped hair.

Once Saaa has settled, Siwa shifts and throws a leg over eir thighs. Sie smiles down from where sie’s perched over em now, pinning em to the bed. “You’re absolutely breathtaking and marvelous. I can already tell you’re going to be fun.”

“We’re both marvelous,” Saana says as e slides eir hands down Siwa’s back, touching as much as possible. “I don’t think we’ll find any disappointment in one another.”

Siwa appreciates a worshipper unafraid to touch, to take their own pleasure in return, and appreciates that Deywo has guided them together. “Haven’t you heard? Adoravis are expressly forbidden from having bad or boring sex,” Siwa says with a grin, and then sie’s leaning down to kiss Saana deeply, both hands cupping eir soft face. Sie licks softly against eir lips, coaxing Saana’s lips open. Saana’s hands settle on Siwa’s waist, kneading the soft fabric of hir robes. The kiss deepens and Siwa moans softly, hips wriggling as sie shifts against Saana.

“You’ve got too much fabric on,” Saana says, breathless as eir hands track back up to the knot of fabric just holding Siwa’s robes closed. “I want to feel you against me – unless you’re going to make me wait, which, fair.” E smiles and eir nails gently trace across Siwa’s shoulder blades, waiting for permission to act further.

Siwa shivers and arches delightedly, a smile playing across hir lips. “Ecstasy is a slow fire, one that requires careful tending before it truly catches. So yes, I’m going to make you wait.” Sie leans down and kisses the curve of Saana’s neck, lips soft and skillful as sie gives thanks for the worshipper beneath hir.

“Ah, well, I tried,” Saana says, head tilted back, eyes closed. Saana’s hands trail to the bare skin of hir shoulders to stroke and pet. It takes a few kisses before eir breathing evens out and e intones, “Lover and beloved, know that I am near when skin meets fevered skin, where lips meet fervent lips.”

It’s the opening line of one of the Ecstasies of Deywo — the sixteenth, or perhaps seventeenth, though Siwa never could keep the numbers straight. The important part of this prayer is it’s a call and response, and sie easily replies with, “Lover and beloved, know that seeking pleasure in each other is how you in turn seek Me. Your hearts are My hearts…”

“Your bodies are My bodies,” Saana breathes, breath hitching as Siwa leans down and kisses the crook of eir neck.

The Ecstasies unfold slowly as they trade kisses and touches, meant to support them as they shift from a mundane to a devotional headspace befitting Deywo’s worship. The prayer itself is not long, but it is meant to be repeated several times. Words that are spoken clearly and with reverence at the beginning of an encounter are later expected, even designed, to be repeated alongside moans and gasps. Saana’s words stutter as Siwa kisses, then licks, then sucks at the tender underside of either breast.

“You, you can mark me,” Saana breathes, fingers tangling in Siwa’s hair.

“Gladly,” Siwa purrs and hir kisses transform into love bites. Sie adorns Saana’s breasts with marks that should last a week or more. There’s a long moment where their shared gasps of pleasure are the only sounds in the room, until Saana finds eir prayer once more.

“I am the sap that quickens within the birch and maple groves, the growing light that coaxes the frozen ground to yield up its pleasure-”

Siwa’s lips slide around Saana’s nipple and suck, gently. Saana’s body jerks and they groan in frustration as the lips just as quickly pull away as soon as the prayer is interrupted.

“Well?” Siwa asks, raising an eyebrow.

Saana swallows hard and closes eir eyes, trying to remember eir place. “The, I am the…”

“The growing light,” Siwa supplies before shifting hir mouth and sucking again on a thick nipple, the faintest gasp betraying Siwa’s own growing pleasure even as sie holds control over the scene.

“So, too, shall you pleasure each other. With mouths and with fingers, you shall pleasure each other. With, nngh, all manner of genitalia, all shape of body, you will glory in your own ecstasies and so – and so glory in Me.” This last bit comes out as a rush as Siwa’s fingers find Saana’s other nipple and squeeze, a reward for finishing the stanza.

“Shall we glory in each other, Saana?” Siwa murmurs, glancing up from hir place at Saana’s breast, a smile curled around eir skin.

The whole point of ecstasy offerings is to lose track of one’s place in the world, which requires a certain… haphazard approach to protocol, especially compared with the devotions of other gods. Siwa is meant to distract Saana as much as possible, and Saana is meant to resist as much as possible, until e no longer can and Siwa wins. (Not that it’s a game or a competition of course. Siwa just likes to win.)

Atana would suffer no less than proper pacing and carefully controlled enunciation of Her prayers; Siwa has been part of Her worship that had to begin again, from scratch, when even the slightest inaccuracy had displeased Her. Not so with Deywo, the Laughing God/dess who delights in stanzas recited out of order, words skipped over or completely forgotten in a haze of desire.

Saana’s nipples tighten under Siwa’s fingers and lips and e moans, loudly, back arching for a moment off the bed. Sie reaches and catches Siwa’s dark hair, unintentionally tugging and receiving moans in return for eir efforts.

Siwa adores having partners so willing to react for hir. Sie’s had partners who have been completely focused on prayer, who have been especially challenging to crack, as it were. But there’s something satisfying about Saana’s body, and eir pleasure. Very carefully, sie catches the nipple between hir teeth and flicks hir tongue across swollen flesh as sie bites down. To have someone sink so quickly into pleasure is a gift to Deywo, and to Siwa hirself.

Siwa lets out a moan that vibrates around tender skin before hir mouth proceeds to lavish the same attention on Saana’s other breast, leaving a hickey around eir nipple and areola. Sie feels hazy and warm, tingling with divine energy growing between them, the spark of bright spring sunshine, the scent of new growth. Again a preternatural verdant light flashes in Siwa’s eyes and this time does not fade away.

“Gods, Siwa,” Saana chokes out, legs splaying open to make room for Siwa. Siwa slides from hir perch atop Saana to lay between eir thighs, feeling the heat between Saana’s legs even through the fabric of hir robes.

“Blessed are you, beloved, in Their sight,” Siwa murmurs against warm skin. Siwa sounds like sie’s floating, farther away in this moment as sie channels Deywo’s energies. Hir own body is aching gently, embers of pleasure that sie can slowly stoke all morning. Sie leaves a trail of bite marks down over Saana’s stomach, reveling in eir soft belly, in the stretch marks standing out in the folds and rolls of eir skin.

“I am honored to receive His blessings. My thanks to the Four, my – ohh, gods, Deywo as my witness,” Saana swears as e stumbles over the next line of prayer, distracted by Siwa’s mouth low on eir belly. “Your mouth, Siwa, gods, it’s perfect, please don’t stop.”

Saana’s praise washes over Siwa and sie takes pride in knowing sie’s distracted hir worshipper from the prayer long enough to offer more thanks for Siwa’s skilled and clever mouth. Anyone who thinks Adoravi priests just lay around and have sex all day doesn’t understand the labor of love that goes into Siwa’s work. Sie has years of experience now holding space for hir partners, getting them just to where they need to be, doing the work of the gods no matter what. Siwa knows when to push and when to relax, when to hurry things along and when to let them linger. And now, Siwa lingers, letting Saana grow needy in eir desire as e makes more and more disordered prayers. It isn’t until Saana begs for mercy that Siwa lets his mouth drift lower still and sie nuzzles the curls adorning Saana’s mons. Siwa breathes in the heady scent of arousal and groans as though their positions were reversed and Saana’s mouth was on hir own body.

Saana’s thighs splay open in invitation and eir prayer shifts again. Siwa thinks sie recognizes it from one of the later Ecstasies, more potent and blatantly sexual than the one they’d started together. “Lay Your body against mine, my love. Spread my legs and hold me down, my Sovereign. Let Your body breach mine, let, let — Siwa–”

“I lay My body against yours, My love,” Siwa murmurs as sie kisses lower still, lips soft as they move against Saana’s slick and swollen cunt. “I will drink My fill from your sap until you have none left to give, Saana.”

“Please,” Saana whispers, hips arching. “Please. More, Siwa.” Saana’s hands stroke over Siwa’s loose hair, petting, then pulling gently as e begs. “Please, I want more.”

Siwa’s lips shift to Saana’s thighs, nuzzling, breathing deep the smell of eir skin. “How badly do you want it?” sie murmurs, looking at Saana with the eyes of a god.

Saana is quiet for a long while, unable to look away from the green eyes even as eir body begs to be filled. “I will be claimed by my Sovereign,” e whispers, hoping e sounds more confident than e feels. Who knew coming face to face with eir deity would be so overwhelming? “I will spread both lips for Them, that He knows that They are welcome. I will guide Him into me and beg with my hands, my lips, my body, my eyes. I–” Saana’s voice cracks. “I give myself to You, and beg that it is enough.

Siwa smiles gently, a hand reaching to cup Saana’s face. “How could I refuse such an earnest prayer?” sie speaks for hirself and Dewyo, stroking Saana’s cheek, thumb sweeping across eir lips. Then, tilting hir head, Siwa’s tongue flicks out across the seam of Saana’s warm, slick labia. Sie moans at the taste of Saana, bright and musky against hir tongue. “Oh, yes,” sie murmurs, “how could I ever refuse this?”

All thoughts of praying leave Saana’s mind at the touch of tongue to aching skin. Eir fingers clutch at Siwa’s hair, tugging harder than e means to. Siwa’s mouth is sweet and nimble as sie slowly licks hir way into Saana’s cunt, fingers splayed across eir inner thighs for purchase. Deliberately, sie avoids Saana’s clit, teasing eir entrance and then sliding up to trace circles around eir arousal. Saana grows slicker with each caress of Siwa’s tongue, eir voice more strained as e tries to remember prayers but can only recall words like gods yes and please, fuck, right there.

When Saana’s voice falters and the words stop entirely, Siwa pulls back and licks hir lips. “Saana, you taste so good.” Hir fingers shift to hold Saana’s lips open and sie takes a moment to appreciate the elicited moan before sie lowers hir head once more.

Finally, that clever tongue finds Saana’s clit. Siwa hums in appreciation of Saana’s swollen arousal, tongue flicking over eir clit before easing off. Sie is careful to build this fire, ramping up Saana’s pleasure slow and steady. While Siwa explores Saana’s body, eir thighs start trembling and the gentle touch at the back of Siwa’s head turns into Saana’s fingers gripping and tugging at hir hair, begging for more.

One hand wraps around Saana’s wrist gently as Siwa pulls back, a wry smile on hir face. “Patience. Or have you already had your fill of ecstacy?”

Saana flushes and shakes eir head. “No, no Adoravi, I’m sorry. I am not the most patient of souls,” e confesses.

“Mm, then it is good I know how to teach patience.” Siwa shifts away from hir position between Saana’s legs. Sie reaches back for the knot holding hir robes together and tugs it free, letting the fabric fall aside before settling alongside eir body. Long, delicate fingers replace hir tongue on Saana’s clit, and Siwa laughs when e jumps and moans at the touch. “Keep praying,” sie urges, fingers moving in slow but firm circles. “Deywo is here. Can you feel Them? Let’s both of us give Him a show.”

“Oh Adoravi, Siwa, please,” Saana begs, voice cracking as sie shakes and trembles under the touch, body tense like a cord drawn taut. “I need – please, I can’t, I need, I can’t wait–”

“You must,” Siwa murmurs back, not without sympathy. Hir fingers are slow, steady, impossible to cope with, and sie knows it must hurt in the most delicious way, not enough for Saana to orgasm, just enough to completely overwhelm.

Saana squirms and thrashes on the mattress, clawing at the bedsheets as Siwa teases and pushes em toward a breaking point. E gasps, tears coming to eir eyes, but e starts praying again. “Denial for the sake of desire will never be forgotten,” Saana gasps, hips bucking as Siwa’s other hand strokes further down, fingers finding eir soaked cunt. “There, there is such pleasure in your agonies, more than the agonies caused by the pain of Atana’s whip. In, in denying yourself for Me, you will be. You will be.”

“Reborn,” Siwa whispers, fingers plunging into Saana’s entrance.

Saana cries out as those fingers, slow at first, but inescapable, start filling eir up. “That’s it,” e hisses as two fingers, then three coax eir cunt open. “That’s — oh gods. Gods.”

“Will you surrender yourself to Me?” Siwa murmurs, one hand lightly fingering Saana’s clit, the other holding open eir cunt. Dewyo’s presence still a shining force between the two of them, a tangle of spring growth and untamed potential. “Will you allow your beloved to take you fully, my love?”

Saana cries out, tears welling in eir eyes. E’s so tight but so wet, so very wet as Siwa fucks em with three, then four fingers. Saana’s entire body has started to thrum with desire, with a powerful hum that reminds em of spring, and growing things, and the fervent rutting of animals in heat. Siwa waits in silence, patient, for Saana to get eir bearings. After a few long moments Saana manages to hiss out, “Yes. Yes, beloved, My God, I — I allow — I beg you to take me fully.”

It’s the work of a few moments for Siwa to pull fingers away and to straddle Saana’s generous body. Siwa’s cock is hard against Saana’s slick cunt and sie groans as their bodies writhe together, desperate, beyond both their control. “Deywo blesses you,” sie promises breathlessly before sinking into Saana with a moan.

Saana calls out Siwa’s name, and then Deywo’s, as Siwa buries himself completely in eir body. E doesn’t know who’s fucking eir, and e doesn’t care, so long as it doesn’t stop. Saana’s hands land on Siwa’s hips and e moves with hir rhythm, as best e can. Siwa’s cock fills eir body, deep and aching, and that hum, that energy of pollination and spreading seed and rutting against willing partners, fills eir mind and soul. Suddenly Saana feels more alive than e’s ever felt before, connected in a sacred union not only with Deywo, but with Siwa too. Siwa’s wants and needs, desires and lusts, are being satisfied, and tied with Saana’s own, and amplified, and e realizes that this – this is what makes union with an Adoravi such a blessed experience. This is what makes worshiping with an Adoravi so mind blowingly good.

Saana is so close to orgasm e can hardly breathe. Siwa savors ever gasp and cry from Saana’s lips, breath coming ragged in hir own ears. “Come,” Siwa commands, hand finally at Saana’s clit once more, stroking hard, pushing em over the edge. “Come, and let the gods hear your pleasure.”

Saana cries out as eir climax crashes over em, cunt spasming around Siwa’s cock, hot and wet and tight. Siwa groans loudly but keeps fucking Saana, and keeps fucking, and the orgasm doesn’t end. There are long moments where Saana thinks e’ll never be able to breathe again, when eir entire world has dissolved to nothing but this point where their bodies unite. Sie keeps fucking Saana until Saana is completely spent, panting and crying beneath Siwa. Then, and only then, does Siwa spill deep in Saana’s body with an exultant cry. Energy releases in the room, as powerful as a gust of wind or a thunderclap, followed by the scent of fresh flowers and the smell of dust after it rains.

An offering accepted.

Wrung out and shaking still, Saana reaches to pull Siwa closer. The two cling to each other, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through their bodies as they catch their breath. They stare at each other with wide eyes as the green light fades from Siwa’s gaze. It still takes several moments more before Siwa gets a hold of hirself and feels that sie’s finally returned to earth, back to hir body.

The truly great devotional rites have even the Adoravi lose some of themselves in worshiping the gods. Deywo Himself requires no less.

Siwa carefully rolls off Saana and stretches alongside eir on the bed. Saana smiles and reaches to stroke a hand down Siwa’s cheek as they both melt back against the mattress. “Wow,” Saana finally breathes out.

“Wow?” Siwa asks, raising an eyebrow as sie grins.

“Wow, fuck,” Saana clarifies, “that was good. Your fingers, your tongue, are very glorious and very, very clever.” E looks completely blissed out, content in a way that tells Siwa there was a job well done.

Siwa chuckles, pressing a fond kiss to Saana’s cheek. “I am indeed glorious and clever, an instrument of the gods. You yourself worshipped quite well.”

“I know,” Saana says, pleased. “I’m glad I listened to my patron this morning.” E reaches to run a hand along Siwa’s bare arm, petting softly as e enjoys the afterglow.

“You know,” Siwa says thoughtfully, “if you ever felt called to continue worship with me, I tend to have most of my mornings free…”

Saana laughs and presses a kiss to Siwa’s lips. “Is that an invitation?”

“It worked spectacularly well the first time, so I would have to say it is,” Siwa replies, kissing Saana soundly in return.

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7 thoughts on “Glory in your own Ecstasies

  1. You’ve crafted such a lush and sensual scene here!! The call-and-response prayer during sex is a ridiculously sexy detail, I love it. <3

  2. Oh man, right from the start I was hooked by the…nonbinariness (is that a word??) of this world, the fact that nonbinary people not only EXIST but are woven into the fabric of the worldbuilding. I honestly clutched my heart the first time the pronoun markers came up, because they were so matter-of-fact and thoroughly integrated into the other types of symbols and signifiers the characters wear. And then on top of that, everything was so sexy and sensual and gorgeous? Gosh. I love this story.

    • Oh I’m so happy to read this! This is a setting Tobais and I have been writing in since 2015 and the genderstuff (and pronouns worked into clothing) has been baked in from the very start. I’m so glad it hit the right note with you!

  3. So delightful! Reminded me, as I said elsewhere, of a certain story about religion and government and a very dangerous game of volleyball.

    The religion’s tenets and focus are so beautifully clear from context in this story, and the sex is quite quite hot.

  4. What a fascinating setting! I love the idea of a religion with such a direct (and fun!) connection to their deities. I got a bit mixed up with the characters having somewhat similar names a few times, but it a way that and the pronouns were nice as they forced me to slow down and really pay attention to what I was reading.

    • I realized that Saana and Siwa were…very close names about two days after the story went live. WHOOPS. I’m glad the pronouns helped in this case! <3

  5. You know what, I read this when the issue came out and had it open in a tab to comment and then lost the tab and lost my mind and forgot like a big ol dummy! So I am going to fix that, because I’ve thought every now and then ever since of parts of this, like the pronoun embroidery and the gods’ individual perfumes and the religious litany used as part of the scene during the sex, and just been so pleased all over again. It’s such a lovely detailed story and so thoughtful in execution, and I really enjoyed it. Y’all do excellent work together, I love it.

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