The Pee Goddess

[Hightower 607]

This chapter is more of a setup and to give a bit of flavour, I wanted originally to submit this on literotica but I honestly can't be fucked so I thought I'd put it up here to start with! There'll be way more pissing/sex action in subsequent chapters. I've obviously written some shorter stuff on here and wanted to give longer form writing a go

It's a bit of a play on Mummy's Tomb-type stories, but with a watersports twist. For a bit of interest, the background of this chapter is the final clampdowns on the last few pagan cults in the Empire by Justinian in the 500s AD.

Prologue

Julia, the Priestess of Isis laughed ruefully. "You think your handful of men can stand against Justinian's wrath? The Christians will swat them aside like flies and we will all be slaughtered."

"Then what do you propose? That the Christians have won and we accept our fate or let them wash our heads?" Murmurs from the others present filled the small temple as the Priest of Mithras returned to his seat. 

"That worked for our predecessors, didn't it? The great and powerful acolytes of Jupiter, Mars, even the Virgins of Vesta who guarded the eternal flame! Now they are faded into memory, and now the only resistance to the Christians are sat in a hovel of a temple squabbling like washerwomen while Justinian finishes what Constantine and Theodosius started."

The priest, an old soldier and veteran of many of Justinian's wars, rose again.

"I will fight for our freedom to worship our gods. If you have a better plan, though, speak plainly."

"You will fight, Castor. But not for victory, for time. Flavia and Amelia, the two priestesses by my side, are not priestesses of Isis, but of another. We will call on the demoness Urinaea, with a ritual not attempted in 1000 years. It may not work, but it is our chance to defeat the Christians once and for all."

"How much time? And what is this ritual?"

"I will not bore you with details, but it requires a virgin of royal blood. As it happens, young Lady Helena will be here soon."

"The emperor's niece?" 

"The very same. My men waylaid her carriage this morning. We have no time to spare, Castor, as I imagine the cavalry will be hot on their heels. Tell your soldiers to man the perimeter."

As Julia had predicted, a dozen horsemen with the 20 year-old unmarried niece of the emperor in tow galloped into the temple courtyard.

As she was pulled from the horse, the attractive brunette, her silk dress dishevelled, swore at her captors.

"Get off me! By the Lord when my uncle's men arrive you will all be cut down like the dogs you are!"

"Now now domina", Julia deferred to her mockingly. You won't be saying that after you have been the instrument in the demoness's rise."

She turned to the leader of the horsemen. 

"Did you follow your instructions to the letter?"

"Of course priestess, the lady has been made to drink three waterskins on the way, as much as she'd keep it down anyway."

"Excellent, then we are ready to start."

"Start what? Let me go right now and you may yet live!" Helena screamed at the priestesses who led her into the temple. 

The altar had been set up with incense burners and a gold chalice in the centre, and a dozen priestesses of Isis chanted in a tongue alien to Helena. The noblewoman had been stripped naked and forced to drink a large cup of water, which didn't help the situation as her pressing bladder made her legs clench. Julia, also naked, stood behind her as Flavia and Amelia lifted her up with spread legs, exposing her before the altar.

"W-what's happening?" Helena asked, nerves creeping into her voice, the heavy incense smoke dulling her senses.

"It's simple. When your desperation becomes too much to bear and you piss into the chalice on the altar, the goddess will rise and all who see her will kneel in submission. You will become her first disciple, and your former God will no longer rule the empire."

"Never! I will remain loyal to my uncle and our Lord Christ!"

"But you do need to pee, and how long can you hold it?" Julia asked with a smirk as Helena was carried to the altar. "It may be too late when help arrives."

Julia stopped entertaining Helena's protests then, and began chanting in the strange language.

Helena's bladder was screaming at her to let go, and she was sure she could feel a small bead of urine forming at her pussy lips, but the sound of horns filled her with renewed hope. 

"Ha!" She shouted against the chants. "They're here! You heathens will be struck down in the name of the Lord!"

Her hope died a little as she felt another clench between her legs, and she remembered the approaches to the temple. The narrow paths could be guarded against a small army by a hundred men.

The two priestesses holding her began to kiss her neck, and one even ran her free hand against her cunt. 

"Let go", they moaned. "It'll feel so good."

"You've resisted as long as you can, just pee and it'll all be over".

"No...no, I can't", Helena panted. "I have to stay strong, oh God"

"He can't hear you", the one on her right cooed.

A finger brushing her clit broke the dam. A spurt of piss escaped her lips and hit an incense burner, but before the priestess could redirect her aim screaming outside made her clench her urethra shut. She heard the chanting break as Julia turned to see Castor burst through the doors.

"They brought fucking fire, it's over! Get out while you can!" 

Helena was unceremoniously dumped to the floor, the priestesses turned and fled out the temple. Castor and two of his last surviving men made a stand at the entrance, but did not last long. As Julia turned to flee the soldier that had cut down Castor hurled a javelin. The last High Priestess of Isis fell to the floor.

The official report to Justinian stated that not a living soul remained among the pagans and that the heathen texts on performing the unholy  ritual were destroyed. 

Two, however, survived. They made it back to the temple of Urinaea, a small cave in the mountains, where they documented the ritual once more and sealed the entrance with themselves inside. As they drank hemlock, they swore their shrine would be found and the ritual completed.

[nopjans 1,178]

This has my attention. I am very eager to see what happens next.

[Hightower 607]

Thanks for the reacts, just a quick one to get the ball rolling! I should say, the story will contain desperation elements, naughty peeing in parts and watersports going forward.

Oxford University, 2023

"Are you sure, Rose?" The brunette tutor leant her head forward and peered over her square-rimmed glasses at the 23 year-old blonde sat nervously across the table, squeezing her legs together. "It's a very interesting literature review and I can see the potential, but it's a radical departure from your Masters and I feel it may be a step too far from your areas of expertise, to be frank."

She handed the document back. Cults of the Erotic: Sex and Ritual in the Christian Roman Empire, 379-610 AD.

"It's an area with a lot of gaps in the research, Gina. Outside of the major pagan cults of the era we really don't know much about most of it", Rose said, feeling a sharp pang in her lower abdomen as she spoke. She took another swig from her water bottle.

"It's one of the more ambitious PhD theses I have seen, is all-especially given you intend to use archaeological evidence from some sites which are ongoing, it could take years. Are you sure you're ready to undertake what could be a life's work?"

Rose nodded. "I'm as sure as I can be. I'm actually flying out to Greece in a couple of weeks to join the dig at a small shrine complex near Corinth."

Gina laughed. "Trust you to pick a PhD that gives you an excuse to go jetting off to the Med a few times a year. Make a start on your research right away then, you'll want to know what you're looking at when you get there."

Rose quickly stepped out the office and made a beeline for the ladies'. She had held it in since the morning, deliberately putting off going for a piss til after the meeting. Since a desperate walk home and quick dive behind the bushes in her second year of uni, holding and peeing where she shouldn't had given her something of a thrill. She dropped her jeans and instantly a strong stream of piss jetted out from between her thighs. 

"Mmmm", she sighed. Still, she thought. Compared to her housemates' steady coke habits financed with daddy's money, enjoying going for a wee was a harmless vice.

2 Days Later

Rose turned a page in the dusty old tome. The riveting title, Heathen Worship After the Fall of the Western Empire, came from an antiquarian in the 18th Century who had (somewhat poorly) translated the bulk of the work from the Greek of a Byzantine monk writing in the 8th Century. 

"I don't think this'll be a best seller any time soon", Rose mumbled to herself. The next paragraph however startled her from her reverie.

One little known cult is that of Urinaea, referred to in earlier sources as a goddess and later as a demon, though no reference exists follwing the reign of Justinian. The earliest association seems to be with the Greek deity Eros, though by 5th century following the bith of Our Lord her worship was more closely associated with the widespread cult of Isis. 

"This is a new one", Rose thought aloud. The dig she was going to was at a temple to Eros with evidence of later Isis-worship, perhaps there'd be something to go off there.

While many heathen cults of this degenerate age made rituals of their fornication, acolytes of this cult differed in that priest and priestess alike would urinate on one another in their foul rites, even consuming the effluent. The high priestesses would urinate where they wished, and the cult believed drinking the urine of a high priestess would confer lifelong beauty. Reference is made of a ritual which would return their goddess to the mortal realm.

Rose squeezed her legs together. She imagined herself as a priestess of this strange cult, drinking wine and pissing whereever she wanted. 

"Sounds fun", she giggled.

She was looking forward to this trip.

[Hightower 607]

Athens, 5 years prior to the sealing of the shrine

"You must let them baptise you, Flavia. It is the only way. Without it you cannot remarry, it is that simple!"
"But what if I do not wish either baptism or marriage, father?"
Flavius Claudius grumbled, slamming his cup to the table.
"Then you are a wilful fool of a girl. You said before you are like me, you care not for matters of the divine. Then what is your problem? Just let them wash you and be done with it, and you will secure your future."
"I was supposed to secure my future with Alexios and look what happened there!"
"His family were even bigger fools than you. I will have no more of this. Look at it this way, let them baptise you and you won't have to sweep up at the fucking church any more. It's no job for a lady of your breeding. Especially at 23 years old."

Flavia looked nervously around the candlelit cloisters.
"Nobody around," she murmured. "Time for some fun."
The auburn haired, slim girl quickly darted across the floor to the apse where the high altar stood, but more importantly to her, the baptismal font.
She had nothing personal against the Christians, but the bishop had recently convinced the city governor to make all who refused baptism perform menial tasks for the church, on pain of imprisonment or hefty fines. Noblewomen were no exception, though at least she was spared shovelling oxen shit.

Flavia clambered onto the font, hiking up her short tunic to reveal her pussy. She sighed gently as the cool air brushed her lips, her hand moving to part them before she aimed a stream of urine down into the basin.
The hissing noise and splashing of her toilet filled the quiet hall, broken only by her giggles and sighing of relief.

She had discovered her love of peeing where she shouldn't when she was with Alexios. He was wealthy, but a total dullard (she was relieved when he and his family were executed for plotting against the emperor) and when she caught him drunkenly leching over a serving girl at a party, she angrily retreated to their bedchambers and pissed all over his fine clothes. The anger was replaced with a sexual thrill at the naughtiness of her actions and she fell back to the bed to masturbate to a thundering orgasm when she had finished. Since then, her hobby had become something of an obsession.

As she flicked a finger over her soaked clit at her desecration of the font, a booming voice startled her.
"WHO'S THERE?"
"Shit!" Flavia swore, rapidly hopping off the font to escape. Before she could get to halfway, a crook sent her flying onto the flagstones.
"What do we have here?" The bishop said, peering down at the young noblewoman. "Flavia Aureliana, I presume? Why are you not home?"
"I-I," she stammered before Bishop Demetrius cut her off. "Silence. We'll find out just what you were up to on my font."
Flavia gulped as he strode the short distance to the font.
"How dare you? Foul harlot!" His raging voice filled the cathedral.
"You will go to the cells tonight. Your father will be summoned and your punishment decided tomorrow."
___
"My only daughter, I cannot believe what I have heard from the Bishop. Is this true?"
"Yes, father," she said, dejected and defeated.
"I am truly sorry for my daughter's actions, bishop. She must be severely punished for this, I agree."
"No," the bishop interrupted. "This desecration goes beyond punishment. She must accept the cloth as penance and go to a convent, or face exile from both the city and your noble house."
"Well, Flavia. The choice is yours," her father glowered.
"I will not take the cloth. If exile is to be my fate, I shall not darken your door again."
As she was taken to the city gate with a small bag of her belongings, she heard the bishop arguing with her father over payments to the church in lieu of her own penance.
___
A taberna in Corinth, 2 days later
"If you want a room, you'll have to work for it girly. Nothing for free here. Get your pretty arse into the kitchen and help that sour faced bitch inside make the stew. Least you might brighten the place up a bit," Zeno, the gruff, fat tavernkeeper said before smacking her behind as she walked past.

That night as she served jugs of wine, a drunken soldier reached out between her legs and groped her.
"Fuck off!" She shouted, turning to slap him. He caught her blow with his forearm, and sneered. "Just for that, hussy, get me another. For free. We keep you lot safe from the barbarians after all, don't we."
She stormed off behind the bar and took a jug. Holding it between her body and the bar, she filled it half with wine and half with a strong jet of her pee.
Smiling, Flavia took it back to him.
"Of course darling, how remiss of me. Enjoy our best vintage on the house."
He smirked and took a swig before spitting it out.
"Fucking slut!"
"Oi!" Zeno shouted. "What's going on?"
"Pissed in my wine she did!" His fellow soldiers jeered.
"She's done you there, Camillus!"
"She could do that in my wine any day," another laughed, prompting another round of jeers.
"Alright, alright," Zeno laughed. "Very funny girly, but these are our valued customers. I can't have you winding them up like that on your first night. Now fuck off."

With that, Flavia was out on her backside again. She was so enraged she barely noticed the cloaked figure following her out the tavern.
"The erstwhile Lady Flavia, I presume?" A soft, feminine voice said from behind the hood.
"How did you know that?"
"A young woman in fine clothes with an educated accent, working a tavern? Word has spread about what you did in the church, you are the talk of society. You should be more careful where you piss in future," the woman chuckled. "Lest you get too much unwanted attention."
"And are you that unwanted attention?"
"I hope I am quite the opposite," the woman said, lowering her hood to reveal raven-black hair and a stunningly beautiful face with sharp, aquiline features. "I am Irene, High Priestess of Urinaea."
"Ah, you must be mistaken," Flavia replied, admittedly captivated by the woman's looks. "I am not one for religion."
Irene laughed again, eyes twinkling as she did so. "I think you may find our manner of worship more...interesting...than reading dusty scrolls and chanting creeds. Either way, it is not as if you have many other options. Come, and enjoy a few days at our shrine where you may choose your path."
Flavia shrugged and followed. As she did, she noticed Irene's robes did little to hide the curvaceous shape  and sway of her hips and arse when she walked.

[nopjans 1,178]

These are so good so far! Keep it going, please.

[Hightower 607]

Cheers mate, I'll try!

[luluA 5]

Yes, keep going!

[Hightower 607]

The Lost Temple

Rose's trowel scraped across the sandy infill of the temple. They had found the entrance two weeks ago and after careful recording of the doorway, began excavating a test-pit down from above on what the ground-penetrating radar suggested should be near the centre of the structure. So far remarkably few artefacts had been recovered from the upper layers, it was as if the site had been totally abandoned.

"Ow!" She excalimed as her wrist jolted. Her trowel had caught against something solid.

"Roof tiles," Rose mumbled aloud. "We're nearly there!" She finally excalimed.

"Wonderful," Elena, the Greek project supervisor shouted down. Clean off that surface, we'll get it surveyed and lifted after," her accented voice tinged with excitement.

Elena tied her wavy brown hair behind her neck as she snapped another photo. "Fascinating," she said to nobody in particular. The removal of the collapsed roof tiles had revealed a mosaic surface, and though too small an area had been revealed to see what it was, it was clearly of extremely high quality. Apart from one small section, barely a foot square, where the tesserae were loose and mismatched.

"There's something underneath that."

"Sorry Rose, what did you say?" Elena replied absentmindedly.

"The loose part. It's been dug up already and badly replaced." 

"Oh," the Greek said, her eyes widening as she realised. "You're right, a good eye! But we shouldn't dig it until the rest of the floor surface is cleaned, this mosaic is extremely well preserved. It mustn't be damaged, even with a good reason.

"True," Rose said. But something nagged at her to find out what was there. It was a secret only she had eyes to see, and it lay there as if taunting her through the ages.

"It's Friday anyway so we'll lay a tarp over and cover it up for the weekend, enjoy the weekend everyone and try not to turn up too hungover on Monday."

Rose joined the small team briefly at the bar before heading off for an early night. She had half a plan in her mind, but wasn't sure she could go through with it.

The Goddess

Rose crept out of the accommodation block, trowel in hand. As she approached the site she looked around nervously, almost expecting to see Elena, or worse, Yanis, the excavation director, staring at her with an accusatory gaze. But there was nobody and the air was still in the watery dawn light. She hopped into the pit and lifted the tarp over the bottom corner revealing the disturbed mosaic. Quickly, but carefully, she removed the tesserae, trying to place them roughly in order beside her. The broken stone floor beneath confirmed her suspicions. As she pulled them away she saw the edges of a lead box emerge from the loose earth and stone. Nervously she lifted it and began to replace the stone, taking some spoil from the edge of the pit to replace the hole left by the box. She was back before anyone else had risen, her tiredness overcome by excitement at her find. The risks were still enormous. She had crossed the line between archaeology and robbery, on little more than a strange gut feeling. Something about this strange site had compelled her to act.

 

Gingerly she prised the lid off. Inside was a bronze figurine of a naked woman, her legs spread and her hands on her pubic mound, standing over another woman lying down beneath her.

"Urinaea," she whispered. It must be. This was it, the proof she'd needed for her project. The problem was she couldn't actually use it.

Beneath the figurine was a scroll, which had somehow survived. She lifted the figurine to get to the parchment beneath and as her hand gripped the bronze she felt her mind suddenly transported elsewhere. She was stood naked in a small torchlit room, with an altar at one end with a large gold basin and an empty floor bath in the centre. The wall art was similar to the Pompeiian style, and highly erotic. It displayed couplings of men and women, and women together, almost all urinating on each other. A painting of a gorgeous tanned blonde straddled the altar and the basin, giving the impression she was filling it with pee. Her eyes glanced down at the floor, noticing the familiar mosaic in the bath.

"The temple", she realised.

Very good, a feminine, gently accented voice rang out. 

"Who's there?" She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

I think you have already answered that, my pet.

"But how are you talking to me?"

My spirit was bound to my mortal remains when I was defeated, on a high bluff above the sea. When my remains were discovered I spoke to a woman in this manner, and she became my first high priestess. She built this temple to keep my remains safe. Before the Christians destroyed my temple and burned my remains to ash, my final acolytes sacrificed themselves to bind my spirit to this idol.

"I-is this in my mind?"

Yes, but it is no less real for it.

"What do you want from me?" Rose was shivering, she wished she had never set foot near the temple. 

What do you want, Rose? I am in your mind, I can see your desires, your needs...

She blushed. Of course Urinaea could see her love of holding and peeing where she shouldn't.

Your deepest secrets cannot escape me. As my high priestess you can make these thoughts, your wants, reality. Eternal beauty and adoration will be yours at my side.

Temptation tugged at her heartstrings. Half of her wanted to agree, the other half was paralysed by fear of what was happening. It was an exquisite dream a nightmare rolled into one. But it felt all too real. 

"What if I say no?"

Simply leave this temple and you will never commune with me again, you have my word. 

Rose gulped. She began to turn, moving as if each leg weighed a ton.

Her vision was filled with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen blocking her way to the door. Statuesque, towering over her with sparkling green eyes and flowing blonde hair, in a white robe tied with gold rope leaving one full, round breast exposed and ending just below her jutting hips. 

"If you are to refuse me, Rose Fletcher," Urinaea said, "refuse me before my eyes."

The auburn haired English girl dropped to her knees before the goddess, resistance crumbling away.

 

In a small dorm room in Greece, the High Priestess's eyelids flittered open to reveal bright green eyes and she smiled.

[Alpian 687]

Great beginning of what could become a full series of good reading. Thank you!