Page 4 of Rescued By the Alien Acolyte

I reach the purification chamber and pause, taking in the sight before me. As expected, Loelle is naked and secured to the ritual altar. Her wrists and ankles are bound with consecrated chains, leaving her spread eagled and vulnerable. The cold stone beneath her contrasts with the heat of her defiance. Yet evennow, she glares at me with undimmed fire in her eyes, a blaze that stirs something primal within me.

She struggles against her restraints. Her fiery hair lays in waves beneath her back. My fingers twitch at the sight, wanting to run themselves through the silken strands.

“Loelle,” I say, my voice rumbling deep in my chest. “Prepare yourself. Your salvation is at hand.”

She turns her head toward me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Go to hell, sun scum.”

“Your defiance only heightens the glory of your eventual submission,” I tell her, my voice low and resonant in the chamber. “The harder you resist, the sweeter your surrender will be.”

I approach the altar, letting my fingertips trail along its edge. The stone is cool beneath my touch, a contrast to the heat building within me. I’ve performed this ritual countless times, but never has it felt so… personal.

“I will never submit to you or your demented cult, you psychotic fucker!” Loelle spits, straining against her chains.

Her words should enrage me, but they send a thrill down my spine. I lean in close, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “We shall see, little flame. We shall see.”

I can feel my cock hardening, pressing against the fabric of my robes. The sight of her tied up and helpless is doing things to me, awakening primal urges I thought long buried. My breath quickens, and I feel a flush of heat spreading across my skin. The chamber suddenly seems too warm, too close. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch her, to explore every curve and valley of her body.

It is then I notice the two acolytes who have remained silent and watchful. Their faces are impassive behind their ceremonial masks, but I can feel the weight of their gazes. Do they sense my struggle? Can they see the desire burning in my eyes? Thethought sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of my duty and snuffing the fire that threatens to burn me.

“Leave us,” I command.

They bow and depart, leaving the chamber empty save for the two of us. Loelle and I are finally alone.

“You’ll pay for this, you fucking creep,” she spits.

“There is no escape for you now, apostate,” I say, stepping closer.

My eyes rake over her body, taking in the curve of her breasts, the taut muscles of her abdomen. She is beautiful, strong, and proud.

And she is mine.

The idea of claiming her for myself twists something inside me, making my cock throb painfully. This is wrong, so wrong. But I can’t deny how much I want her.I move to the altar, leaning over her body. She looks up at me with wide eyes, her breath coming fast.

“You think you’re going to break me?” she whispers, her voice shaking slightly.

“Oh yes,” I reply, my voice husky.

I trace my finger along her jawline, down the column of her throat, across her collarbone. This is not what should happen, but I cannot help myself.

“I’ll never give in to you,” she says, her eyes blazing.

“We shall see, little flame. We shall see.”

What is it about her that draws me so strongly? I can’t let her see the effect she’s having on me, so I pull back, forcing my lust down.

“The ritual preparation begins,” I say, stepping away.

“Ritual? You mean this isn’t it?” she asks, confused.

“This is merely the prelude,” I reply. “The ritual will begin once I’ve stripped away your defenses and bared your soul for the gods to judge.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asks, a hint of fear in her voice.

“First, I prepare you for your cleansing,” I say as I move toward the cabinet containing the instruments of my art to force myself to prepare the ritual implements, knowing it will take time to consecrate them and the chamber.

Painstakingly I go through the motions, lighting the incense and the candles, preparing the scented oils and the sacred dagger. Loelle shouts insults and pulls against her bonds, but I ignore her for now. Purification is not something to be rushed, lest the gods reject the offering during the final ritual.And she will have my full attention soon enough.

“Are you afraid, apostate?” I ask as I return to the altar.

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