Milan's POV
I am bound face-down over the black-stone basin, leather straps biting into my wrists, ankles, and waist. The iron rings hold me so tightly that my hips hang suspended above the rim, ass and balls dangling free, c**k swinging into the empty space below. The stone is cold against my chest and thighs.
Candlelight flicker along the walls, throwing orange light across the wet gleam that already coats the floor from earlier rites. My breath comes steady, but my pulse hammers in my throat. I am Milan, the young priest they chose, and tonight like they said, the claim will be carved into me forever.
Three women approach from the dark shadows. Plus-size, all of them. Curvy, heavy-breasted, thick-thighed, and moving with the absolute confidence of those who own every inch of this te
