THE BULL GOD



The Bull God entered the chamber, his huge shadow playing about the room from the torch in the corridor behind him. Having stooped slightly to get his great bulk through the door, he stood and swung the massive oaken structure closed, momentarily silhouetting his horned head against the leaden orangeish glow. The tigress was on a vast raised dais in the middle of the room. The platform was strewn with pillows large and small, and with assorted silk, satin, canvas, and fur bed coverings. In the midst of this diffused shadowland on the dais lay the tigress she-witch he had chosen from the harem.
She was moaning softly and writhing slowly as if the burning in her loins was moving through her body, becoming one great ache of desire needing to be satiated. She had been waiting for her lord since that afternoon when the lesser satyrs had begun to prepare her. She had been fed the finest of aphrodisiacs and delights to the palate, her bath was prepared with crushed lavender and mint, aromatic and soothing, delicately fragrant. She was read to from the book of whoredom, she had been sung songs of the lake and the forest and the ram and the moon. Then, wrapped in ermine, she was escorted to the nearby mating chamber. It was here, in the glow from the fireplace at the far end of the room, that the aphrodisiacs started to take effect.
The lesser satyrs used all of their profound knowledge to tease her mortal flesh to a feverish boiling heat of liquid wanton need. They had been taught their art by the Horned Deity. They were supreme
in holding the tigress/whore on the precipice of ecstasy awaiting the beast.