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Like Habits for Water
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
(C) 1-1994 by Mad Dax, these terms apply in addition to others; all Picarna
Stories by Mad Dax: non-profit publication in non-print medium allowed.
Unedited copies only. All Other Rights Reserved. Any similarity between
characters in these stories and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This material is not intended for minors. WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT ANY OF THE
ACTIVITIES DEPICTED IN A PICARNA STORY. IF YOU DO, IT IS AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Vol I. No. 5 "Like Habits for Water"
The Sacred Order of
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Chapter 1
A masculine chorus of the latin verse filled the main temple as
the long procession of robed men filed between its small stone
columns, wooden benches and blackened wood supports.
The smell of incense and burning candles was thick and heavy
as the leading alter boys swayed their orbs of spices liberally.
The tone of the chorus was sad: lamentations for a departed
brother perhaps? Or just the sorrowful acknowledgement that the
wicked deeds of inumerable generations could never be completely
forgiven and thus they sought sympathy from above or cast self-pity
and loathing on themselves. Perhaps this is what the casual observer
would glean from the ritual but not I. I was a member of the
Order and knew what they were really up to. It was iniation month
and the final testing of those that would be masters was at hand.
Amid the dreary, smoke filled chamber in the center aisle there stood
the Polstren in all her majestic glory. It was the only reason I had
returned to this place. To restore it to its proper keepers. There
had been a strong temptation to keep it. And if I were of a much higher
level I probably would have. But at this stage in my development it
would have been kin to a dog stealing his master's car keys. A futile
act; to take that which one cannot fully utilize -- atleast enlight
of the scantions I would be facing.
A cool blue light from some unseen source above illuminated its gold and
bronze proportions in glittering splendor. It was a sharp spear-like staff
with something quite similar to the incense holders at one end. A small orb.
Ah. The power represented by that awesome tool. . . It would be mine
again, someday.
Soon the female procession marched into the temple. Their thick white
robes and raised hoods contrasted sharply with the brown habits of
the brethern. Their long dual lines circled the temple at the circumfrance
then mingled with the brothers to form a grand circle about the polstren.
"Let our witin be their without. . .", was the immortal cry as the
mingling of twenty times ten voices began. Each chanted at his or her
own pace and tone. The babel sunk to high heaven and rose to lower
netherdom as the masters began to enter.
We, of the master's order wore red robes with enormous hoods and
carried great oak staffs. Each was a wooden replica of the Polstren.
The ends of these ended in a scrolled like tip, from which hung a
wooden replica of the orb. They were delicate, ceremonial things.
I stood with my fellow masters at the head of the temple. Those,
like myself who had not finished the graduate student levels, stood
in front of the altar.
All became quiet as the higher masters tapped their staffs against
the floor. The highest master, an aged and wise sage of incredible
power began to speak. His strong, raspy voice easily filled the temple.
"We are all, each of us, children of the corn!", he cried as he
lifted up an enormous butter covered cob.
When I saw him do that my freshmen year I had almost laughed. But
only a fool mocks the anointed one.
There was a rustling of robes as every male there produced their own
stick of slippery golden corn and a small leather whip. I patted
the thick bumpy cob hidden in the folds of my own robe and waited.
Surprisngly mistress Pia stepped up next to me and looked into my eyes.
She had beautiful green eyes and just the hint of wrinkles. I don't
know quite how old she was then, but she had been a mistress even
when I was a lad.
"We must till the soil first of all. . .", my partner said, her
voice echoing with those of her sisters all over the temple. She
began to lift up her robe, revealing her blessed nakedness.
She took the little whip from me and motioned for me to turn around.
A loud noise of half-muffled cries and leather slapping against
men's backs filled the temple at each chant. My back stung as
mistress whipped me but I held my tounge.
"So that we may plant our seed. . .", I said as I took my huge
purple-brown spotted yam thick stick of corn and gripped its slippery
length in hand. It was one of those specially grown marvels with
a puzzle-like pattern of colors on its surface.
A collective sigh and not a few moans sounded as every brother gave
his bent over sister a few strokes and pumped the corn deep within
her.
I slowly placed my hand on mistress Pia's plump upturned rear and
began to gently ease the bloated almost hideous looking chunk of corn
into her gaping slit. She arched her back and gasped at length. I
would have been amazed at her taking such a load so quick, but then
I knew she had prepared herself.
I slowly withdrew the slick, knobly food from her hungry cunt, nearly
dropping it like a wet bar of soap once it was free.
"And have food to eat.", we chanted together.
I bit a sizeable chunk from the corn, feeling her warm juices, the
butter and water starting to dribble down my chin. It tasted
sweet, sour and buttery. I wanted to eat more, but saw the hunger
in my partner's eyes and handed it to her.
She gripped the cob in both of her small hands and began to eat
upon it from left to right. Left to right she went like a typewriter,
turning and turning the whole slippery mess untill nothing was left but
the spent core.
She smiled at me from behind the remains of the corn as the butter
and juices ran down her wrist and forearms. I couldn't help myself
and started gently licking the slick river of tasty fluid from her
lovely palms and wrist.
I knew there was time for it so I took the corn from her hands and
dropped it to the floor. She smiled at me as I took her in my
arms and began to kiss her all over the neck and face.
She started kissing back lightly at first and then with much more
enthusiasm as I explored her chest and rear just beneath the coarse
material of her robe.
I took the hem of her garment in my hands and she raised her hands
above her head to help me as I lifted the whole thing up and
off of her.
I laid the white robe out upon the floor to make a warm mat.
She sat in the center of it and closed her eyes.
I hitched the habit above my hips and took my thick, but not
fully erect cock in hand. Her lips formed a teasing smile
as she felt the warm head of my meat press against those
lucious full treasures.
I lifted my habit a bit and droped it over her head, resting
my hands on her heah beneath it. Thats when I felt a hot
wet tounge licking my tripple width hotdog shaped carrot.
She munched on it softly and began to pump me into her
mouth with deeper and deeper thrust.
I looked about me and saw dozens of couples in various stages
of union. One man was whipping his partner's breast with the
leather while he used his toes to play with her pussy. They
were both on their backs with their feet at each others crotches.
I felt my cock sliding deeper and deeper into mistress Pia's
throat. I could feel my balls on her chin and her nose firmly
pressing against my lower belly.
Then she began to milk my rod with her lovely mouth. Humping
my cock and greedily licking all about. The suction she was
producing had a wonderful effect on me.
It was getting extremely hot under the robe, so I lifted it off of
her head and held the hem up to my chest. The cool breeze felt good,
but did nothing to stay off old-faithful geyser building up deep within
my twitching balls.
When I started to come I grimaced, arched my back and cried out. I
tried not to, really I did but the sensations were just too strong.
She pulled off of me and looked at the eye of my cock as I
fought for control of the gushing tide rising within me.
She closed her eyes, just before the first few enormous wads of streaming
come shot out covering her brow and forehead in a thick n' chunky cotton
white sauce. The lumps of jizz began to slowly run down her face,
but not before my next few loads spurted onto her cheeks, lips
and bare breast.
In my shaking few final spurts I shot a healthy load onto her
left ear and collar bone.
She laid on her back and asked me to oil her down. I stopped,
wondering what the hell she was talking about for a moment.
"Ah, yes.", I said as I kneeled beside her and began to spread
my come all over her breast and neck.
Soon her whole body was covered in a slick glossy glow. She
put her robe back on and we stood again.
-oOo-
Chapter 2
"The ritual of the corn is complete. As it was laid down 10 generations
ago so it continues until now."
The master's poetic and unique voice resonated on a hypnotic level,
"I have seen in my visions, that this world shall come to an end.
Not too long from now."
There was a bit of laughter towards the rear of the temple.
"Who dares to laugh against the all high master!?", one of the
younger masters cried.
Soon the offending student was dragged before the alter, before
the masters. Justice in such matters is swift and brutal.
"Punishment is one demerit.", Another master said while looking to
the head master for approval. The head master nodded.
The student was lead outside of the temple, where punishment was completed
within seconds. Nobody seemed to notice when he returned later, with a
grimace on his face and an enormous bandage over his hand.
Ten demerits and you couldn't graduate. Afterall, it does
take atleast one finger to perform some of the sacred rituals.
The master continued,
"And long after this cleansing of the world, one of our own
shall rule. And they shall call him Whirl Wind, Flood
and Firestorm for he shall change the unchangeable."
There was utter silence in the temple. Nobody would
dare interrupt. I too had had a similar vision,
but mine had been very vauge and undefined.
"I have decided that the Polstren must be put where
it will survive the end. And be there, for that
future one who shall build the World of Picarna!"
A trio of scribes were busily writing down all that the
master said as he began to preach the virtues of our
future champion. And this was the benediction to the
graduation, which had always been a simple ceremony
anyhow.
-oOo-
Chapter 3
I was shown into master's study before sunset that day.
It was a large stone room with a moorish entry and
a rather well kept oriel window. He was sitting in
a chair facing that window, with his back to me.
"Nim-Nim. It has been not a little while since our last communion."
I looked about at the long row of glass bookcases, persian rugs
on the floor, rare vases on an end table. I knew master would
take his time speaking. He was not a man to say anything without
careful consideration.
"The future is very bright for our Order, Nim."
I nodded in agreement and gazed beyond his head into the
white flurry outside. It was snowing quite heavily, but
I would've been surprised otherwise.
"In order for everything to come to past properly, the Polstren
must be made available to our future champion."
How can we do that? Send it into the future perhaps, I thought.
"No. No. We cannot send it into the future, Nim."
I hate when he does that.
"You forgot to shield your thoughts young master. No.
It is beyond even my power or those of anyone here to
send something into the future. But we can make certain
that it survives somewhere safe. Somewhere our future
champion will be able to find it."
I nodded in agreement. The master had spoken, it would be done.
"Whatever you ask I shall perform."
"I am having the Polstren moved to Celebes right on the equator.
It is an area not likely to be damaged during any nuclear war,
and the position should be easy to pinpoint. There is almost
no risk of glacier flow.
What I need you to do is foster a son. And tell him all about
the Order and our Polstren."
I was shocked. Tell a non-picarnan about the scared acts and
the Polstren?
"You shall not tell him directly. Use but symbols and mythology.
Give him the keys he will need to decipher the information in later
years."
I walked over to him and kneeled at his side. He was an old
man. Some said he was one hundred years old. Others said
a thousand. At whatever age he was not one to be taken
lightly.
"Take care, Nim-Nim. We will not meet again. . . Take care."
"One last thing, Master."
He nodded.
"When will the end come?"
"Nim-Nim", he said in that mocking tone he used whenever he was scolding.
"I will tell you Nim-Nim. But you must never reveal this to anyone."
"As you say Master. I will never reveal it as long as I have breath in
my chest, as long as the sun rises in the east, so long as the mouse
plays in the field, as long as the moon marches through the sky,
as long as the four seasons of life persist as lo-"
He cut me off, signaling the oath was lengthy enough already.
"Very well. The end shall come. . ."
I wondered if someone might be listening to our conversation and
as I did he looked out the window and closed his hands. They opened
and closed twice as he began to rock back and forth.
"Years, Nim-Nim. Years."
He extended his hand and I kissed the ring there before leaving.
-oOo-
Chapter 4
The flight back home was long and not very pleasant for
me. Several of the new grads and a few masters were on
the same plane. Some whre in first class wearing suits
and ties. Others were in economy class, posing as missonaries
and tourist returning from a trip to the far east.
The food was horrible. There was heavy turbulence and violent
storms. But we made it to Japan, where I bought a ticket on
the spot under the name of a Mr. Hubert. for L.A.
It had been a hard decison for me to return to the United States.
But I had made up my mind a few weeks before. It was the best
hunting ground. The immature youth and T.V. fed adults were
just so easy to turn on. The prudish american rules about what
kids should see, and what decent people should do created the
perfect atmosphere for me to help people of whatever age do
something 'kinky.'
Yes. Yes. That word is the worse term one might apply to the high
art of sexual bondage and Picarnalistic applications of plural personality,
mind control and ritualistic near-death experiences. But if that is
how those I screw look at it, so be it.
-end of 5-
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