Punished for Wanting: Parts 1-5 (Chapters 1-15): Long Legs, High Heels, Big Tits, Bossy, Bitchy, Beautiful and a Holy Tease by Barrellstalk S. J

Author:Barrellstalk, S. J.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10: THE CAVE

Bathsheba stared at the wall into which Mac had just catapulted himself.

He simply had disappeared!

Meanwhile, the old Incan man, Inti Cusi, was cowering further inside the cave. Almost hidden by its dark shadows. He had fled there after unceremoniously shoving Mac into the wall. He had been intimidated by the loud reprimands from Bathsheba and the naked power of the wall, as it consumed the young Caucasian.

Bathsheba was certain that he knew something. He had always known more than he was willing to share.

He was afraid to speak. To tell her his secrets. The secrets of this place. Of this mountain.

What lay beyond the wall? Bathsheba had no idea, but she was determined to find out.

“What happened to him?” she demanded from the old man. She touched the wall gingerly to see whether it was hard or soft. Whether perhaps she too could pass through it. It was cold and hard. Impassable. Impermeable.

Her Spanish was not very good. But, he understood her.

“He’s gone,” he said in Spanish with a stuttered Quechua lilt. He preferred Quechua to Spanish. Bathsheba understood him but barely.

He began to shake. Quivering as if he were being touched. Influenced. In a very negative way.

“I know he’s gone. But, where?” Again, in her broken Spanish.

He gathered himself up. Girding himself for what was to come. And responded to the pretty white woman: “To the Mama Priestess.” His speech was now hesitant. Still in Spanish but even more broken. Heavily accented. He was definitely holding back.

Bathsheba was frustrated. She was close to what she wanted. She was close to a major breakthrough. Mac and she knew that this cave was an integral link to the past. To Cori Huay Rachina. Pre-Spaniards. Fully Incan. Where the Moon Goddess was worshiped and women ruled. Mac had somehow passed through the wall of the cave. Perhaps through time itself. Bathsheba desperately wanted to follow.

“What? You keep on saying that. ‘Mama Priestess, Mama Priestess,’ who is that?”

“She is she,” he responded inscrutably – switching to fluent Quechua from his broken Spanish. Bathsheba could hardly understand him. Still, he hoped that his answer would placate her. He could feel his rationality beginning to take flight. His dick was starting to hurt. He swallowed hard and tried to retreat further into the darkness of the cave.

Bathsheba’s patience was gone. She was exasperated. The language used by the old man did not matter. Quechua or Spanish – who cared? The reticent male simply would not cooperate. She lost her temper.

“What! What! Give me an answer that makes sense, old man! Or else ….” Her fists were clenched. Her jaw was set. She glared into the shadows of the cave. At the old-timer.

The old man kept trying to recede further and further into the cave. His fear redoubled. Now, there were two women threatening him: the Mama Priestess and the beautiful Bathsheba Tivoli.

There was real power in the Mama Priestess. She was demanding. Cruel. And, controlling. She was not to be trifled with. Her will was strict.

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