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chapter2 awakening




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The Sacred Within Chapter 2: Awakening

Author: Amaranta Fiore

The priestess turned around and took Gwen’s hand and led her away from
the chair to the statue. The Goddess statue seemed to be emanating a sound
like, “thrumm, thrumm.” Gwen tried to pull back, but the priestess pressed
her hand to the stone, against the foot of the figure. The noise exploded
in Gwen’s head, becoming a scream in her brain. She could hardly breathe,
and she felt her heart would burst. Just as she was about to succumb to
the void, the priestess pulled her from the stone. Gwen fell back,
suddenly very cold in her nakedness, and closed her eyes to the darkness.
The last thing she heard was the priestess’ voice saying, “she is of the

Gwen was immersed in darkness. There was no sound. She struggled
against the darkness, calling, “Michael...” She called her husband’s name
but couldn’t hear her voice. It felt as if all sound, light and heat were
sucked from this place. Gwen was afraid.

But then, in an instant, the emptiness erupted, with a flash of
deafening sound that was like a wave crashing against a cliff. The sound
crashed over her, forcing her into a reflexive pose. Curled around
herself, Gwen heard the sound ebb until she was able to discern what might
be voices. She felt her body relax now that her senses seemed ready to
process the sounds around her. She tried to concentrate on the sound. It
seemed closer than before. “Who’s there?” “Where are you, she called?”
Just as Gwen was aware of how cold she felt, a warm presence moved nearer.
She stretched toward the warmth. Uncurling her body, she found the warmth
was also light. She struggled to open her eyes. Through slits, she saw a
rosy light that encompassed her whole field of view. In the light were
shapes moving slowly. A shadowy shape moved forward from the light toward
Gwen. She stretched toward it, and the light swelled, forcing her to

When she opened her eyes, a face hovered over her own. It was a face
she knew. Gwen struggled to put a name with this face. It was a man with
deep cocoa-colored skin and a friendly smile. His eyes twinkled as his
face moved toward hers. Gwen blinked again, and the face kissed her. The
kiss was warm and safe, and so sweet that she opened her mouth in response.
In an instant, she knew the face to be her friend Steve Waters, from
medical school.

She kissed him back fervently. She had never before kissed Steve. She
remembered that Michael, her husband, had accused her of sleeping with
Steve while she was in med school and Michael was away on business, but
Gwen and Steve had never been more than friends. Where am I, she thought?
Steve’s hands began moving about her body, caressing and kneading. She
couldn’t help but respond.

She tentatively stroked Steve’s chest, sliding her hands slowly down his
well-defined, lean body. Steve’s hands continued to explore. She found
him irresistible, even his scent was intoxicating! He smelled like exotic
spices, sweet like cardamom, yet crisp like mint. His fingers luxuriantly
kneaded her arms in smooth sweeping movements, coming ever closer to her
breasts. Gwen arched her back as Steve paused in his attentions, pressing
her left breast firmly into his waiting palm. They both moaned as he
cupped the soft tissue in his hand, rolling the nipple between his thumb
and finger. She ached for him to bring the rigid flesh to his mouth,
crying out for him to relieve her need, yet he continued to toy with the
nipple, heightening her desire.

Finally, he brought it to his mouth and she sighed, delighted. He
suckled, nibbled, and flicked the nipple as she squirmed beneath him. She
guided his hand to her mound and he began lazily caressing the downy hair.
She moaned when his finger dipped between the labia, tickling her clitoris.
His mouth left her breast as he shifted his body to lay beside her. He
kissed his way down her body, his kisses finally falling upon the cleft of
her mound. She gasped as his hands parted the lips of her labia, spreading
her open for him to see. It seemed an eternity as he drank her in with his
eyes, taking in the loveliness of the nested pink folds.

With a quick movement, his finger slid into the deep well of her vagina.
He fucked her with his finger, the motions rapid and insistent, leaving
Gwen gasping. Gwen felt her pleasure rising toward release, as he added a
second finger, opening her even farther. When she thought she could endure
no more and that the pleasure would take her, Steve slowed his penetration,
causing her to moan in complaint. He laughed and continued to slowly fuck
her. He was savoring the feeling of her vaginal muscles rhythmically
clenching in anticipation of orgasm. Steve lowered his head and lapped at
her clitoris, Gwen thrusting her hips forward in response. He methodically
nibbled and licked at her clitoris, driving her toward orgasm.

She screamed out Steve’s name as she came, riding the crest of the
orgasm with her eyes tightly closed. It seemed like it would never end.
Arching her back, her whole being felt inflamed. A coolness came over her
forehead, making her aware that she had been thrashing her head side to
side. The orgasm ebbed, and she collapsed into a limp posture on the
floor. Her head felt as if it were floating, she had been so transported by
the climax. She languidly opened her eyes, drowsily blinking to bring her
vision into focus. It wasn’t Steve she saw before her, but the priestess,
and she was on the floor at the foot of the statue. What had happened?
The priestess cradled the back of Gwen’s head in her hand as she brought a
small cup to Gwen’s mouth. It smelt like water, so Gwen drank a sip. It
cooled her throat and brought some fleeting clarity to her feverish brain.
She smiled weakly at the priestess in thanks. After drinking some more,
Gwen attempted to speak. “What happened,” she asked? Of course she didn’t
expect an answer, as she spoke in English, but the priestess responded.

“You touched the statue and then pulled back as if it had burnt you.
Then you fell to the floor in a seizure. You called out in a foreign
language, screaming and thrashing your body about. I was quite frightened
for you. And then you went limp on the floor and finally awoke. I was
surprised when you spoke, because when you were speaking before you touched
the statue, I could not understand you.”

“I was speaking English,” Gwen responded.

“You were? You speak Greek as well,” the priestess said.

“But… I don’t speak Greek!” said Gwen, her concern showing very plainly
on her face.

“Oh, I see. It is a gift from the Goddess. It must be. You have been
given this gift, so you must be a favorite of Hers.”

“I don’t know anything of the sort. What do you mean? I just stumbled
in here by accident. You must be mistaken,” Gwen said, having a great deal
of difficulty holding back tears.

“The Goddess knows us all, and she has brought you here to discover

“But what could that be,” Gwen sniffled?


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