As they passed through the gates into the great city the warriors were cheered loudly.  After two days of pillaging a neighboring village, they had returned home bearing the spoils: weapons, pottery, farming implements and more. Perhaps the most valuable spoils were the villagers themselves. Although many of the men had been killed, the survivors had been taken and would become slaves. They would work either in the mines or on the temples, eighteen hour days, every day until they died. The women would be used in the fields or, in a few lucky cases, as nursemaids or harem girls.

Harsh as their treatment of the villagers was, the conquerors had a particularly gruesome fate in store for one unfortunate victim. It was the time of year to honor Chac, the fertility god, to ensure a bountiful harvest the coming season. This was done by offering the god a sacrifice in the form of a young woman. The soldiers had already selected a suitable girl from the village, and none were allowed to enjoy the gift between her legs before she was brought to the temple of Chac.

As the soldiers escorted the lone and terrified girl to the temple, the din of crowd noise was hushed by the sudden beat of ceremonial drums announcing the coming sacrifice. The entire city paused for a moment, listening intently. Then, in unison, the crowd began to make its’ way to the temple, and the buzz of excited conversation grew louder than ever.

The temple consisted of an altar at the top of a forty-foot staired pyramid. Around the altar, the three High Priests waited, imposing figures behind their elaborate boar masks. At the head of the altar a fire burned within an oil filled vase, a receptacle of the god. Surrounding the pyramid was leveled seating, enough for the entire city, most of which was present. Lastly, there was a corridor leading from the stadium to a small room, out of view, where the girl was being prepared.

Finally the time came, and a city official emerged from the corridor leading the girl. She had been bathed, her toenails had been painted and her hair had been done. She had been dressed in a sacrificial robe, a low-cut, revealing garment that was designed to be easy to remove. As the official led her up the pyramid stairs, she looked into the crowd, then up at the Priests looming at the top, searching for a compassionate face, but finding only pitiless resolve. Although she couldn’t have known exactly what was in store for her, she panicked and tried to run back down the steps. The official quickly caught her by the arm and half pulled, half dragged her up the remaining stairs, to the applause of the crowd.

Once at the top, the official handed her over to the Priests and left. The Priests were all a foot taller than the tiny girl, and the two lesser ones had no trouble restraining her while the Elder Priest addressed the crowd.

“Citizens,” he said. “The time of the harvest is near. In His wisdom, Chac has sent us this girl that she might be harvested in his name. Her loins, her flesh, and her life… all are gifts to the god. This done, we shall prosper in the coming year.”

With that, the two lesser Priests tore away the surprised girl’s garments, leaving her awkwardly trying to cover her nakedness. The Elder Priest gathered the shredded cloth and dropped it into the fire, which blazed hungrily. The girl would never again wear clothing.

       The Priests grabbed her, one on each side, their fingers digging into her slender arms, and easily lifted her off the ground and carried her to the altar. She screamed and cried, kicking wildly, but to no avail. They set her on the altar and forced her onto her back. They now had her secured, a Priest holding each arm away from her body. She could only move her legs.

       The Elder approached sporting an impressive erection. He raised his arms, looked to the sky and said, “Use me, Chac. My body is your conduit.”

       With that he lowered his arms and looked at the girl. “They’ve done well this time,” he muttered under his breath, smiling.

She had her legs curled up close to her body, her knees touching and her ankles crossed. The elder ran his hands along her smooth calves, causing her to recoil. He let his hands wander upward. Prying his fingers between her knees, he violently pushed her legs apart, to the approval of the crowd. Instantly he was on her, his manhood pushing roughly into her loins, his pelvis slapping loudly against hers. She screamed at first, and then settled into weeping. He ran his hands across her taut belly, allowing his fingernails to dig into her soft brown skin.

She certainly is healthy, he thought. She’ll make fine meat for the townspeople when I’m through.

He then slid his hands under her buttocks, and his fingers pushed into her rectum. His hands were like eagle talons pulling her ass cheeks apart. All the while he continued to thrust into her. Feeling the orgasm approaching, he looked at the other Priests and nodded.

One of them unsheathed the eight-inch ceremonial blade and handed it –over the terrified girl, whose eyes followed it desperately- to the Elder. He continued to fuck her as he brought the blade to her breast. The girl wailed and bucked wildly, knowing for a certainty that she was about to die. The Priest looked into her eyes and recognized the same expression of terror he had seen before in the eyes of a steer as its’ throat was slashed. On a whim, he placed his hand on her chest. He could feel her heart beating furiously.

Continuing with the ceremony, the Elder grabbed the girl’s left breast and touched the blade against the side of her nipple. Using his left hand to keep the breast steady, he slowly sliced through the nipple and handed it to his colleague, who raised it to the crowd before giving it to the fire. The Elder then did the same to the girl’s right breast.

Looking at her face, he realized she was beginning to go into shock. That was fine with him, she didn’t have long to live now anyway. His orgasm was very near. He lined the point of the blade against her solar plexus and pushed. The blade sunk into her chest and she let out a loud grunt. He cut downward into her stomach. She coughed and flecks of blood appeared on her lips. Handing the blade back to the other Priests, he pushed his hands into her chest cavity. They sunk in past the wrists. He felt around inside her, glancing against intestines and lungs, before he found the heart. It was still beating. He grabbed it with both hands, feeling it beat against his palms. The joys of being inside a woman, he thought, and with that he came, flooding the girl’s dying womb with his seed.

As he evacuated the last of his semen, he removed the heart and handed it to his colleague. It sizzled and smoked as the flames engulfed it. The girl’s dark eyes were glassy now, but there was one last thing to do. Probing his fingers into her crevice, he exposed her clitoris, dripping with his semen. Taking the blade, he quickly severed it and added the slimy morsel to the fire.

“Chac be praised,” he said.