The temple

High Priest Markos frowned as the woman who pretended to be a goldsmith came in. How many times would he have to tell her that work of the metal crafts was the purview of men, not women. There was no means by which she could purify herself enough to receive the blessing of the gods, especially dressed in such an inappropriately male fashion.

Admittedly Chrusodae was a handsome woman, but her blonde curls and soft face would not convince any but the most foolish that she was a man. She walked directly to him and addressed him, ignoring all semblance of manners.

"My Lord High Priest, I wish to speak with you."

"I know your business, Chrusodae, and I again say-"

She touched his lips with a finger and he stopped talking. What witchcraft was this?

"High Priest Markos, I wish the blessing of the husband of Aphrodite upon my hands. I know that you are immune to the charms of women and so I offer myself as a man."

Markos laughed out loud.

"If you can convince me that you are a man, I will grant your boon."

"Shall we walk in the temple garden?"

"No I shall expose your foolishness here."

"As you will." She lifted the kilt. His eyes nearly popped from his skull.

This woman had a member of gold almost half a cubit long, perfectly formed and contoured and naturally erect. He found himself desiring it more than any of the myriad natural shafts he had encountered before.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"This work of artifice is my poios megistos. Think you still that I am a poor crafter? Bless my hands!"

He called two other priests over with fragrant oil and performed the solemn blessing of Hephaestos upon the gods-touched hands of Chrusodae, his eyes never leaving the golden device. When he had finished the woman addressed the attending priests.

"Now turn My Lord around and help him to his knees."

The priests did as she bid them. Despite the fact she was a woman, it didn't occur to them to disobey. One priest lifted the high priest's robe and stripped away his breech-cloth. Chrusodae stroked her shaft of gold, slicking it with the anointing oil still wet on her hands. It entered his hindquarters with minimal resistance.

She thrust and pushed at him vigorously, much as men did to her more 'conventional' opening. Each heavy thrust ended with a bounce of his lean ass while slapping Chrusodae's most sensitive part so that her gasps mixed with his grunts of pleasure. With the final thrust he sprayed his seed onto the inside of his robe and collapsed.

Chrusodae knelt in prayer and made offering to Aphrodite, Hephaestos, and Eros for her good fortune. Finally, acting upon a sudden whim, the woman threw off her tunic, breeches, and breast band, and strode out of the temple wearing aught but her strapped-on member and singing the praises of Eris. The priests and faithful stared at the woman and the great work of her craft with awe.