The ceremony was attended by everyone in the valley, all of them converging on the temple near its center. Legend said the god Artorius dwelt there, that in the last days of summer when the cold wind started to blow into the valley he would emerge. Livia felt that wind as she approached the temple, like the other young women she was wearing a light woolen tunic that fell to mid-thigh. She unconsciously shivered as a priest's gaze fell on her for a second, living so close to the temple imbued the priests with some additional measure of Artorius' power, and she quickened her pace, hurrying towards the statue at the temple's entrance. Artorius was depicted as stern, dominant and masculine, somehow in motion despite being stone. The legends said he selected a girl at each ceremony, that he had made her a divine vessel and through her blessed the valley.
The valley's inhabitants, roughly a thousand people, gather in front of the temple, standing in the shadow of their god. Between the statue's legs were two wooden poles, shackles hanging from near the top of each. Livia stood with the rest of the young women, anxiously watching the priests as they moved among the small group. Artorius hadn't been seen for generations, before the time of Livia's grandmother, but his priests continued performing the ceremony. A strong hand came down upon Livia's shoulder, she nearly jumped with shock, and she let the priest guide her from the crowd.
Murmurs spread through the larger crowd of people, Livia was known as a beauty with her youthful hourglass figure, and the priest used the shackles to bind the young woman between the poles. She looked out at the valley, excitement and hints of embarrassment swirling in her belly, and flinched slightly as a knife parted the fabric of her tunic. After a few more precise cuts it fell away from her body, exposing her curves to the onlookers. She could sense a deeply male presence behind her, feel his energies conquer her. She let out a cry as a hand reached round to toy with the apex of her thighs, tried to squirm as he slipped a finger inside her.
A blush reddened Livia's face when the high priest withdrew his finger, she looked down in time to see his penis appear from between her legs. Again a hand reached round, grasping the length of hard flesh, and Livia loudly gasped as the high priest then thrust upward, her feet nearly leaving the ground as the hand curled around her waist. The high priest's pace was almost furious, his member penetrating far into his bound partner, and his growls were loud in her ear, breath warm on the back of her neck. Livia had seen enough ceremonies to know her role, she concentrated on using her inner muscles to coax the high priest towards his release, towards granting her a taste of goddesshood. With a loud roar the high priest climaxed, the moans uttered by Livia during her orgasm lost beneath his outburst, and another priest appeared in front of her. He held a deep goblet in one hand and a thin dagger in the other, jabbing the blade in Livia's neck with swift surety.
Her blood burst from the severed artery, the priest angling the goblet to catch the now-magical liquid. Livia squirmed uselessly as she was bled, the high priest resuming his thrusting, and she moaned incoherently. The two priests surrounded Livia until she was just a pale corpse, hanging limply by the wrists beneath the statue of her god. The full goblet was carefully whisked away, its contents to be drizzled upon the soil of the valley's farms, and the priests unlocked Livia from the shackles, carrying the body to where a fire had been maintained. It was through the consumption of the divine vessel that Artorius’ worshippers gained health and vitality and many were already salivating at the thought of devouring Livia.
With an axe and a quick swing the high priest removed Livia's head, handing it to her parents, while the lesser priests prepared her body. After a cut her organs were exposed and removed, placed into pans to cook, while a spit was guided from vagina to throat, her limbs bound to the spit with rope at ankle and wrist. The smell of her roasting meat when the priests placed her spitted body over the fire was like an electric shock for the onlookers, the lust that had built over the course becoming unleashed. People fell on each other, the field in front of the temple a site of unrestrained passion and the sounds of pleasure drowning out all else.
The priests alone were aloof, they would take their pleasure when the ceremony was complete, but they wore pride as they watched the frenzied matings, the high priest striking a gong when Livia was done. Slices were carved away from breast and rump, her vagina cut for the high priest to enjoy. Long strips were sliced from her thighs and calves, her heart was ritualistically consumed by the fire. Everything was parcelled out, from Livia's toes to her brain, until just the skeleton remained.
As the fire was allowed to die out, as the satisfied worshippers began returning to their homes, the high priest looked into the depths of the temple, wondering if this was the year that would see Artorius roused…
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