At that moment Jake had just undergone not dissimilar treatment. For a long time, the two nymphs had sat at his feet, gazing up at his limp cock. Their old/young faces showed no emotion. They had just stared as Jake worried about the silence from the room where he didn't want to imagine what indignities were being heaped on Hesta.
But then, the moon had loomed from beyond the trees, and the moment the hall became bathed in its light, the two nymphs had moved towards him. Each reached out a hand to stroke at his flaccid cock. They got no reaction. Jake was relieved that his present state of worry about Hesta moved him a long way from getting an erection.
His scrotum was stroked gently, pulled roughly, without any result. Both hands stroked his cock with infinite gentility. One moved in, took his limp member, placed it in her mouth and began sucking on it, almost frantically. Jake was proud of himself, and maybe, just a little surprised, that his cock did not respond. But his mind was just too full of fear for his wife. Who could respond in such circumstances?
One of the satyrs called out and although their language was distorted from the Greek he knew, Jake could tell he was inviting the nymphs to service him instead. Ignoring the satyr, the two nymphs drew back from Jake and whispered together. Then one of them darted away towards where Hesta was being imprisoned.
Watching her go, Jake had looked across the hall area, and, despite his distracted situation, he saw that the rising of the moon must have triggered some kind of general orgy. To his right two large satyrs standing upright were ramming into a nymph, one front, one rear. On her face was a beatific smile.
Jake worried about what the nymph might be doing in there, but within seconds she was hurrying back, clutching a small jar. There was a big grin on her face. Her partner wriggled closer to Jake until she was looking up at his scrotum. As the other settled beside her, and they each dipped their fingers into the jar.
Jake could see, over in a far corner, a nymph had her gown thrown over her face, as she was held down and three or four goat satyrs were being encouraged to poke their mini erections into any orifice they could find. Howls and giggles rose from that corner. But worriedly he saw a yellow substance on the fingers of his nymphs, as they sat level with his cock. Their fingers began smearing the strange paste all over his cock and scrotum. They rubbed until none of the paste could be detected on him.
Both leaned back and watched him, or rather watched his cock. 'What the hell was the game here?' Almost concurrent with that thought, he was aware of his scrotum heating up, the way a muscle ointment will heat up the skin. But then, within seconds he could almost feel the blood pounding into his cock, and without any lapse of time, it moved through semi-erect to a full, hefty erection, the kind that Hesta had been so proud to produce in him. Maybe more so, for it felt to be pointing to the skies for attention.
Without further hesitation, both nymphs were clutching at it eagerly, laughing with delight, as they ran their lips and tongues up and down his whole length. To his disgrace, he felt grateful for their attention. In no time one of them closed her mouth totally around his cock and sucked him right to the back of her throat.
God, so deep, even Hesta hadn't managed that kind of acceptance of his length. The other one pushed her companion aside and took him slowly back into her throat, while her tongue lavished his length. Impossible, bu, he longed to have his hands free to pull their heads onto him further.
All around the hall, couples, satyr and nymph, were actively servicing each other. Nymphs straddled rampant satyrs, sucked at their large erections, or lay under a satyr, being moved backwards by his thrusts, while another satyr waited his turn. By the entrance area, one nymph was taking three large satyrs, all at the same time.
His two nymphs played and sucked him for a long time, taking his cock from their mouths to lick the head, and poke their tongue into the little slit. At one point, one of them had him way down her throat, while the other was mouthing his balls. Jake wondered if he would ever ejaculate. He was shamed by the utter pleasure he was having. Suddenly, he became aware of the very familiar pounding in his scrotum, feeding into his throbbing cock, and with a cry, muffled by his gag, he was pouring out down the throat of one of them, who instantly removed his spurting member to pass to her partner who took it deep, sucking and sucking.
Jake couldn't imagine how he could have so much to give, as his cock was passed like a baton between the two, and they each took ready shares of what his dear wife would have called his 'white stuff'. They took it in the mouth, in the throat, where it was swallowed into the belly, and in exchange, it trailed across their faces
At last, his cock slowly sagged and dropped from the mouth of the current recipient. The two old/young faces exchanged disappointed looks, wiped their faces on their gowns and turned as the two guards on either side called to them. Without delay, one went to the left and took the large cock in her mouth, while the other moved to the satyr on the right.
He doused his torch and lifted her onto his erection, where she bobbed contentedly. Jake took in a shuddering breath. All around him was a scene of utter debauchery, and he had been part of it
From somewhere there came a weird horn sound. Something was about to happen. All around him there was rapid movement, mostly attempts to complete the intercourse that had been taking place. On his left, the nymph drew her mouth back from the satyr's cock. White dribbled from her chin and was still spurting from the satyr's end. Jake felt sick. But knew deep inside that what was about to happen would be much harder to take. 'Was he going to be able to watch this?'
Two small satyrs appeared and looped some rope through rings on each corner of the dais. Then they went and stood at the opposite corners at the back. They turned their heads towards the rooms. Waiting. Inside, the three nymphs stood up, and Hesta saw them hesitate until a rough call came from across the corridor.
They nodded at the two satyrs, and Hesta felt herself being lifted, under the shoulders and behind her legs, before being hoisted above the heads of the two creatures. She was carried from the room, and out into the bright moonlight. Her head turned to where she knew Jake was tied. She wanted to cry out to him, but she knew that would upset him. This terror had to be met on her own. Yet her whole body simmered with an unwilling urgency. Her insides pulsing beyond her control.
Jake watched as the procession came through the door. Two nymphs in front, one at the rear, and between them, her naked body held to the sky by two satyrs, his darling wife. He saw her look, her face distraught, but she didn't call out. She must know what awaited her. Such a brave lady. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
As the procession reached the dais, the two satyrs lowered Hesta into a sitting position on the edge. As one of them parted her legs, and the other laid her back holding her hands over her head, the two small satyrs came forward and bound her ankles to the rings. The satyr standing between her legs stepped to one side, without ever taking his eyes off what he had exposed. Jake was sickened to see her sex totally open to all eyes.
Both small satyrs took a quick peek before scuttling on goat's legs to the rear where each took an arm from the satyr holding them. In the end, Hesta was completely spread-eagled, her ankles tied, and each arm held wide by a small satyr. The stage was set. Seeing his wife completely bare and available to whatever indignity might fall to her, had Jake struggling desperately with his bonds. All so useless.
From somewhere there must have been a signal, for in a second all the remaining torches were extinguished, and the scene was lit only by the power of the full moon. Had that light source ever been so revealing?
Hesta's emotions were in turmoil. Foremost, was the terror of what she had faced and would be facing. There was the despair that Jake would suffer just by seeing this, and the shame of having her body so exposed, epitomised by the expression on that satyr's face as he parted her legs for a second time, and looked as though he'd like to bury his face in her. It was a look that cried, "I've tasted your juices." Even the small satyrs had stared at her opening.
Yet despite all these hateful humiliations, her body, her skin, her cunt were screaming for fulfilment. This was wrong, but she had been treated to have this feeling. There was nothing she could do about it.
When the torches were extinguished, she knew that her time had come. There was a deathly silence. Clearly, all satyrs and nymphs present knew the significance of this moment. A single torch, held by a tall satyr suddenly appeared from the direction of the rooms. Turning her head, she saw the tall dreaded figure emerge through the doorway. Wide of chest, decorated in floral and vine drapes, he stood there, that enormous member, pointing, Hesta was convinced, directly at her.
Priapus turned to face the moon, held out his arms and roared loudly and triumphantly. Then he strode strongly and purposefully towards where Hesta was spread for him, and as he walked he was chanting, "Hestia, Hestia."
With his first view of Priapus, Jake had choked on his gag. He had read tales, had heard talk, seen pictures, but this massive cock was beyond anything within his imagination. In absolute anguish he watched, knowing, for certain, that he was about to see his darling wife die, skewered on this impossible erection.
Through the gag he tried to cry out, "She is not your Hestia. She is my Hesta."
Hesta had wanted to close her eyes as Priapus came nearer. But this could not be shut out, and the nearer it got the more threatening that gross phallus became. It was like a huge gnarled tree trunk. He stood close to her head, allowing his member to fall across her throat, as one hand stroked over each breast, and he kept up his murmuring, "Hestia, Hestia."
With the state of her skin, the touch of his coarse hand on her breast was devastating, as his fingers played with her nipple. This was wrong, she shouldn't be having these spasms of joy. These sensations were for Jake alone. Now his hand held his member in front of her face. Terrified, Hesta could see the huge girth of it, a monstrosity of malformed proportions, and the purple/maroon of the head, pointed, almost like an arrow, was the broadest part of the whole thing and filled her with dread, yet an unwanted curiosity.
He leaned over her now, and his thick lips set in an almost handsome face, sought hers. Hesta knew she should be turning away, but there was something, was it just the lotion that covered her, drew her on, and her tongue was mingling with the incredible roughness of his. Her head spinning, she managed to pull away, but there was a smile on his lips.
S'agapao, Hestia," he said, as he reached out and took her right hand from the satyr.
Hesta's heart turned over. This is what Jake often said to her, during their time together, "I love you." And wasn't he now holding her hand like some lover?
For Jake, watching in a mix of fear and confusion, it was just unbelievable. This monster was actually making love to his wife. He had kissed her, and worse, she had appeared to enjoy it. He had held her breast, which she didn't appear to resent, and had uttered those magic words that he had translated and used in their most intimate moments.
Now he was holding her hand, or was he? For even as Jake watched Priapus had placed her hand on his gigantic member and was encouraging her to move it along the whole length. 'Stop this!'
Hesta froze at the moment he placed her hand on his erection. Under his guidance, she was feeling the whole rough power in it, was aware of the blood pounding through it. Now she was really uncertain of what to do. 'Keep him happy, was that a good idea? Go along with this whole charade'? Already she had found that her hand could not give a total grip around this thick rod, and as she was pondering her next move, Priapus bent and started kissing and licking her breasts.
Now, this was dangerous territory for her. Already her skin was aflame. His tongue was rough in the way a cat’s tongue is rough, and the sensations it was giving, as he licked at her nipples were frankly frightening, because she knew deep in her heart that she should not be feeling this euphoria.
Jake was in purgatory. Seeing Hesta stroking that thing, he could at least tell she was uncertain. But when Priapus kissed her breast, even in the moonlight he could recognise that look on her face, that look of rising passion when he was stimulating her.
Hesta felt Priapus take her hand off his member and pass it back to the satyr. He raised himself so that his cock once more lay at Hesta's throat. He half turned and spoke to one of the nymphs, and she moved beside him, took hold of the erect hardness and kissed it firmly around its arrow-shaped, yet bulbous head. The nymph's tongue licked with a wide tongue all around that huge head. After performing that act, the nymph's next action horrified Hesta.
The head of the erect giant cock was held to Hesta's lips. No, she couldn't perform this act. This was the act that only Jake had rights to. But the nymph was looking at her with pleading eyes, and she could almost read her mind. If Hesta did not repeat what she had just done, then the nymph was going to suffer in some way.
'Don't do this, please, Hesta.' Jake knew that his fears could not reach her, and he saw her hesitation, but then there seemed to be looks exchanged between Hesta and the nymph. In utter disbelief, he saw Hesta place her lips on the head of this torpedo of a cock. Something close to fury hit him when her tongue quickly followed and repeated what the nymph had done. 'Don't take it in, it will kill you.'
But that wasn't going to happen, for he heard Priapus say out loud, "S'agapao akomi."
She would recognize that, wouldn't she?
Having his cock head under her tongue had not been the best of experiences for Hesta. There had been a strange indefinable taste. Anyway, she had done it, proved by what he had said next. That was something Jake would say jokingly to her when she had made some minor mistake, like burning the toast or forgetting to buy his favourite sweet, he would say it, and she knew it meant, "I love you still."
Priapus was really into making love. This, so far, had been no assault, and inside her lower body were unfulfilled longings, that she would normally only have for Jake. She kept telling herself, this was because of the unguent that she had been treated with, rather than any fancy for Priapus.
But at that very moment, he was allowing his rampant cock to trail over her breasts, and it was electrifying. Twice he did it, clearly knowing the effect it was having on her. Then his cock continued a journey down over her belly until it was lying across her bush like some great steam train waiting to enter a station.
Hesta couldn't believe that his actions had made her want her hands free to reach for him, or maybe for anything. For, he had stepped around where her left knee was tied, to stand between her gaping thighs. Raising her head, she saw him looking down into her and licking his lips. He knelt and placed his lips and tongue where her clit must have been clearly standing out, for he hit it immediately, making her whole body jerk upwards, and just for a moment one of the satyrs lost his grip on her hand. A grip which he quickly regained.