Micro-Erotica with Guya by Zayq
The Crystal/House of the Lord
A few weeks ago,
and I asked you to select one of three characters for us to write about. The rules were simple: write a micro-erotica, exactly 499 words, using the winning character.This has been a fun challenge. Zayq and I both lamented the limited word count and I can tell you, it took SEVERAL drafts to finally come up with the final story.
In the end, we ended up with two completely different stories, two completely different worlds and two completely different styles. You’ll find both of our stories posted below. Head on over to
when your done and check out his page. He’s extremely talented and it was an honor to work with him!We hope you enjoy and thank you again to all that participated in the poll! We couldn’t have done it without you!
House of the Lord by
“The Lord is my shepherd.” I whispered.
They left me tied up out here. Two days ago.
The bastards.
Your eyes fill with sand. Everything is hot. The vultures are patient. The rocks won’t give water.
And the man in the distance keeps staring.
He wasn’t real and I knew that. He appeared yesterday, after a wave of dizzy knocked my eyes closed.
An illusion.
But as I sat, melting into the sand... he came closer.
He reached out and pulled at my eye lids.
The world was a tunnel... dark around the edges. I was going to die.
“I can help you. If you give it.” He whispered.
“What?” I murmured, my tongue swollen.
His hand moved between my legs.
Pressing.
“Your innocence. Your purity.”
Jasmine and sweat. The smell trickled over his blonde chest and dripped down his smooth, golden thighs. He wore light cotton and a leather belt that barely hid the power between his legs.
I was crazy.
“What have you to lose?” He cooed, softly.
“Not real.” I mumbled.
“Then there’s no harm.”
And he was right. Illusions are impossible to argue with.
“How?”
“Drink. From me.”
He knelt closer, his lips almost touching my own. I opened my mouth instinctively, giving in... too weak to fight. And he pressed into me.
I expected heat.
Instead, it was cool water.
Streams of still waters in the desert.
I latched on, sucking him in as life returned to me.
He plowed between my legs.
“Give it to me. Worship me.” he growled.
“Yes.” I whispered, helplessly.
“You know who I am?” He asked.
“The Lord is my shepherd.” I was mindless as he tugged at my belt.
“He maketh you to lie down in green pastures.” He said, pulling at my trousers, exposing my skin... my parts. “His rod and staff will comfort thee.” He pulled up at the cotton over his thighs, removing the barrier between us, spreading apart the muscles that guarded my innocence.
Pussy. That’s what some call it.
I never used it.
“Let me in. Give yourself.” He said, his dick pushing against my door.
I held my breath.
I nodded.
I felt it open.
Pop.
I didn’t know that place existed. The depth of it. That a man could be... taken.
He pushed inside ravenously, cold heat stinging through me.
Holding me...
Pounding me...
Taking it from me...
—My heart fluttered—
I heard my innocence... Angels singing with loud, wet claps against his groin and thighs.
I was Dominated.
Split open.
“Let me flood you.” he said, “You shall not want.”
“My God.” I whispered.
He grunted, wildly... fiercely... victoriously...
I felt it inside me.
...Filling me.
...Taking my innocence.
My muscles clenched. Angel wings fluttered through my torso.
My cup overflowed.
Euphoria—
I woke up as a stranger fed me water, the car swaying from side to side.
“He’s alive… but barely.” Someone said.
I wasn’t worried.
But I wasn’t innocent.
“The Lord is my shepherd.” I whispered.
The Crystal - by
I’d considered the crystal unique, of wild beauty, immeasurably valuable. My master has emphasised secrecy and silence, and my path - alone on the vast empty sands - matches his words. I’ve taken it from its wrappings only by night. It is the size of my fist: a large, mineral jewel, purplish in tone. It flashes in the moonlight.
By day I follow the hawk. The ground rises, and the bird guides me into a labyrinth of pinkish stone where cliffs provide shade from merciless sun. On the third day it lands before a fissure, and when next I look a man stands where it had been, handsome beneath a rag of a robe. This can only be the one I am meant to meet, though whether hawk now flies away on high or is transfigured into man I cannot be sure. He beckons, and we descend into a gloomy rough-hewn passage which unexpectedly opens into interlinked caverns, opulent with hangings, and lined with shelves of flickering light such as I’ve never seen. A sleeping platform piled with pillows is hewn straight from the rock.
He takes the crystal from me, and places it on the flat of his palm. As we touch, my sense is of deep, timeless power. He holds me tight, as if my body is already his. And we peer into the shifting empty depths of the stone.
Nothing.
It is a crystal – no more, or at least, not yet. Our fingers meet, intertwining, and he leads me by the hand to the shelving. Not one, not several, but scores and hundreds of similar crystals sit, in a display of shimmering light that I cannot comprehend, and he asks me to choose one. What we see in its depths is extraordinary.
A young and handsome man, curls of blonde framing rosy cheeks, kneels on all fours. He is naked, and beautiful enough to stir the blood to my cock. And even as I register this shock the boyish figure moves, impossibly, within the crystal. I twirl the stone in my hand, trying to understand what I see. Beauty, trapped inside the beautiful, his body carved in some way like a cameo, animated by a magic greater even than that of my master. He smiles in unfeigned happiness, surrounded by the golden pulsing light of the rock.
The image shifts as the boy relaxes back onto his haunches. A second figure emerges from the crystalline depths. A tall and handsome man, bearded, athletic. Naked and hard, his cock a thing of power and control. It is the man I stand with, the heat of his body palpable as his hand finds the skin of my ass.
Within the stone the beautiful boy leans forward, delivering long wet kisses of adoration to the head of the man’s cock. And slowly, with blissful concentration, he slides it between his pink lips.
“Your master has chosen well,” the man says, his finger now deep inside me. “Let us begin”.