Feature Writer: BoredInQuarantine

Feature Title: TEMPLE OF LUST 1

Published: 08.05.2021

Story Codes: Religious Themes

Synopsis: The Ilaraan priestesses have a strange initiation ritual

Author’s Notes: English isn’t my first language so I apologize for any grammatical or stylistic errors. I Always appreciate any feedback I get, especially comments. Thank you. Naturally, all characters in this story are 18 years old or older.

 

Temple of Lust 1: Baptism of Cum

Lana stood in front of the giant stone portal framing the two sets of heavy wooden doors, rethinking every decision that had led her here. There were countless stories discussing the Temple of Ilaraan, but most of them were so utterly unbelievable, they were most likely just wanton fabrications. Standing here now, Lana started considering the option that they were not.

She didn’t want them to be. The Ilaraan sisters were known throughout the land as the holy priestesses possessing powers of exorcism which could combat the strongest spirits and secret rituals that would banish the darkest of demons. Many had tried to unravel their methods, discover the source of their abilities, but none had succeeded and to this day they remained a closely guarded secret. No one could copy them.

That, of course, was what had spawned all the myths. When people cannot explain something, they will try and look for the answers in their fantasies. Some revered them as blessed, the true paragons of the holy light, bestowed the power to repel evil in the name of the greater good. But most weren’t as naïve in their explanations. Most stories claimed they practiced dark witchcraft disguised as miracles to gain the publicity of their patrons, or that they were simple mages whose feats were blown out of proportion. Some went even farther and said that they pact with the fiends they dispel and take the credit for banishing their own evils, or that they performed all kinds of perverse rituals or human sacrifices to gain their might. Those Lana didn’t want to turn true.

It didn’t help that they never let anyone witness their work or that the survivors of their exorcism often described discontinuous scenes of nudity and pleasure coupled with pain and drunken nonsense.

Lana always wanted to join their order. Ever since she herself was a subject to their healing, after a fiend had taken over her mind years ago, she craved to one day be like them. She had no memory of the incident, only dark dreams the spirit shrouded her mind with while borrowing her vacated body. No one ever spoke to her about the incident and as far as she knew, nobody ever saw the exorcism, but when all others had said her to be beyond saving, the sisters had not hesitated and saved her. No matter how others warned her about them, she would forever be grateful for that.

The one that opened the door, however, wasn’t anywhere near as affable as she pictured. She looked down on her, head and a half taller than she was, her eyes hard and calculating. Long black robe covered her entire body, only a silver chain with the symbol of their order hanged above it. A black and white nun hood framed her face, what remained betraying no signs of emotion. Her stare penetrated right through Lana, making her attempt to hide her face under her short, shaggy blond hair.

“What do you want, child?” she spoke in a steady, but not irate voice.

“I…” She wanted to say she is not a child, but her reason stopped her. The sisters probably called everyone that.

“I… can I come in?”

The priestess seemed to measure her with a hint of curiosity creeping through her controlled expression. “Come in?”

“I have nowhere to go,” she responded.

“Another one from the attacked village? Do you too seek to join our order, child?”

Another one? Then somebody else made it here too?

She couldn’t keep the thrill from her face. Lana had no idea whether anyone else had survived the raid. For a moment, the notion of seeing a familiar face had almost made her agree on the spot.

In the end, she had managed to compose herself and replied cautiously: “Maybe. I mean, I wanted to, but…”

“Are you unsure?” the sister butted in. “There’s no place for doubtfulness in our temple, child. Do not return until you make up your mind.”

“No, please! I have nowhere else to go! I want to join your order! I have wanted to for years, but I never had the courage to come! Please!”

The nun stopped in the doorway and made a quizzical look, not dissimilar from jeweler appraising a stone. Whatever she saw in Lana then, it was enough for her to give in to her pleading. She stepped aside from the entrance and motioned Lana to come in and into the Temple of Ilaraan.

Her heart raced as she crossed the threshold of the massive door, almost jumping upon the loud bang when it closed behind her. It was considerably colder inside then outside, but that was probably true only in the summer heats which were burning outside. The sister beckoned her sharply and without a word led her through the silent public chapel where people would come to pray to the sisters’ holy light and the deities which they worshiped. Occasionally a pilgrim in need would request a healing from the sisters to appease their soul or to relieve their sins in the confessionary. No one ever spoke of what happened during the process. No one ever seemed to remember.

They took a little door in the far corner of the chapel instead of the much more welcoming larger passage, presumably leading to the sacred areas of the temple restricted for its priestesses, and Lana found herself in a small hallway. It went on without a turn until they exited into a large, grassy courtyard in a shape of a square with green bushes and large stone statues. Statues which, as Lana noticed, depicted generously shaped women in priestesses’ garbs, their impressive bosoms bared on display from their undone robes.

“Is something the matter?” the priestess asked, making Lana realize she had stopped to stare.

“What are… those?” Upon the raised eyebrow she added: “Those statues aren’t something one would quite expect in a temple.”

“An Ilaraan sister cannot be perplexed by something as simple as nudity,” She said in a stern voice. “One’s body is as natural as the light shining from the heavens or the blooming of trees in a spring. Evil takes many shapes. In order to become a priestess, you must learn to be resistant to all its temptations, even the physical, lest you will be taken by it. You must have no shame.”

Her last words reverberated in Lana’s head like the tolling of the bell. A lot of the stories told behind the back of the sisters claimed that they practiced perverse rituals or open sexual acts. Largely, Lana thought them to be simply a way to discourage people from worshiping them. Secretly, she had hoped some of those stories would turn out to be true. Now some of them were starting to make sense.

They continued onwards, passing a group of young sisters walking through the courtyard. There even were a few brothers among them, male inhabitants of the temple who took care of its more physically demanding tasks, though they never practiced any of the priestesses’ mystic arts. They wore their plain brown robes and seemed to distance themselves from the women, walking quickly and with a gap. Lana tried paying the nuns no mind as they entered one of the buildings, when something among them caught her attention. A glimpse of ginger hair.

Was that…

She tried turning around but the priestess stopped her, holding her by the shoulder in a firm grip until the young sister got lost in the crowd. She wrenched herself free of her grasp and stared her right in the eyes.

“Why did you stop me? I just thought I saw someone I knew but I couldn’t get a good look before she was gone!”

“Until you completed the initiation you are but a guest on the temple grounds. Do not stray where there’s no place for strangers. I will give you a room to stay in and some food to eat while I put a word in with Mother Myraan. Until then I expect you not to wander while I am gone, if you wish to stay.”

The priestess glared at Lana till she bowed her head down in acknowledgement, then continued further inside and into a small room. There wasn’t much to regard except a small bed with simple, formerly white sheets, an empty cabinet and a small table with a candle. There was a small, curtained window but the light of the day was quickly receding, leaving the room gloomy. The priestess took up one of the candles from the wall in the hallway and lit up the one inside before returning it back and shutting the door behind them.

She motioned Lana to sit on the bed and stood with her hands folded, her piercing gaze not ceasing to measure her, still. It might have been a minute until she spoke.

“What is your name, girl?”

“Uhm… La… Lana. Lana Tornea,” she stuttered.

“Not anymore. While you are walking between these walls as a part of the Ilaraan order, you will refer to yourself as Sister Lana. It is now as much part of you as the one you’ve been born with. You have no last name. Should you wish to be referred to under a different given name, tell me now before the baptism.”

She shook her head.

“Very well. Are you a virgin, Lana?”

“What?” she yelped.

“I hope I don’t have to explain what that means,” the priestess said exasperatedly.

Lana closely inspected the floorboards, trying to hide her reddening cheeks under her hair, but it was too short. She hoped the dim light of the candle would serve in her favor. “Y… yes.”

“Hmm. At your age that’s unusual.”

“I’m not even twenty.”

“Yes, still. I would recommend you keep it that way. Should you fall pregnant unexpectedly, you will likely be expelled from our order.”

Lana would have been surprised they even accepted people who hadn’t remained pure if it wasn’t for a weirder premise in her words that there was a risk of pregnancy in the temple. That, coupled with the odd, explicit statuary and the priestess’ commentary from before, had left her convinced that there was something highly unusual about this place. And she wasn’t sure whether she liked it.

“Have you ever indulged in sexual pleasures?”

“I just said I am still a virgin.”

“That is not what I asked,” came the sister’s reply, making Lana’s cheeks burn like embers.

“With… myself?”

“I was assuming that one.”

She swallowed. “Eh… I was close to this one man from my village. But it ended before anything real happened,” she stammered. Speaking about it still brought hurt to her heart. Though they didn’t end up on the best terms, she wished upon the heavens he had got out. Their disagreements seemed so inconsequential now.

“And with a girl?”

“…barely.”

Which is the whole reason for the argument, she thought.

“Are those questions necessary?” she asked. “What does it have to do with being a priestess?”

The tall sister produced a cane out of nowhere and whipped Lana across the fingers. She squeaked in shock more than pain, but there was still a pink mark left at the place of impact.

“Watch your tone, disciple! No one shall suffer disrespect from a fellow sister. And to answer you: yes. An elementary attribute of every full Ilaraan priestess is absolute control over one’s body. Should a fiend break your focus through mortal delights,” she spoke and as she did, she jabbed her cane against Lana’s privates through her skirts, directly hitting her clitoris. “It will take control of your mind.”

For emphasis, she twisted the stick around, sending a quick wave of pleasure up Lana’s spine. She immediately lashed to push the thing away, but the priestess only tightened her titanic grip slightly and held it there.

When she finally let go, Lana’s fingers were locked tight around the bed frame, her legs shaking. Partly from the shock and horror at the sudden attack and her sheer helplessness against the huge woman’s strength. Partly because that feeling of helplessness might have been the most erotic thing to ever happen to her. She would have to let her mind clear before she decided whether she wanted to beg the sister to continue or to smash her head in!

“If this were to happen during an exorcism, we would have two bodies to reclaim!” she continued on. “The evils our order faces will test you. And they will do it through the weakness of your flesh. You will not become one of us till you learn to ignore them.”

She waited a few moments before putting the cane away back into her robe. In the brief moment as she did, Lana caught a glimpse of bare skin underneath it and a glint of a metallic sheen.

“I will now go to take care of all the necessities of your initiation. A ceremony is taking place tomorrow, where we accept new disciples among our ranks; escapees from raided villages, mostly. I will arrange for you to join in with them. You will have dinner delivered here, the restrooms are around the corner. I will come to collect you tomorrow for your baptism. Do not wander the halls alone.”

Before she shut the door, Lana asked: “Wait! What is your name?”

The priestess turned to her briefly, holding the doorknob. “You may call me Sister Gertha.”

Then she left.

Lana stayed sitting down, staring at nothing. She recounted everything that happened since her arrival and couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something odd happening here. From the naked statues, the sister’s invasive questions, her aggressive move on her, to her apparent lack of clothing beneath her garb. Everything in this place seemed to have sexual undertone.

Of course, that was partly what enticed her so much about it. Her village was full of prudes and living there was suffocating. She once got a beating from the mayor when he caught her kissing with his son. And she got off way easier than him. But being here now, she had second thoughts. Just what has she gotten into?

True to Gertha’s words, a brother arrived later on, carrying a salver with bread and cheeses and a glass of water. He handed it to her and left her to eat alone in silence. She expected someone to come collect the tray later, but no one came, so she did the only thing she had left to do. She laid down and let sleep take her.

---

In the morning, Lana was greeted with rapid knocking which had torn her from her dreams. It didn’t let up until she reluctantly stood and opened the door.

Another brother awaited and she was presented with a light breakfast which she took in return for the empty salver, the brother leaving without a word. She wasn’t yet hungry since she was still half asleep, so she waited some time before delving into it. It didn’t leave her terribly full, but it replenished her strength enough to make her remember what awaited her.

Despite Sister Gertha’s word that they would come for her in the morning, it wasn’t till the noon bells rang that she finally arrived. She entered the small room, carrying a black habit with black and white hood identical to hers. Like always, she gave no greetings.

“Put it on,” she ordered.

Lana took the garb from her, expecting the sister to leave. She didn’t budge.

“You’re still here.”

“Yes,” she replied and continued to stare her down with her hands folded.

“I can’t if you are here.”

The look she gave Lana made her expect her to pull out the cane from her sleeve again, but instead she replied: “Yes you can.”

Somehow, her whispery tone was more convincing than any screaming she had heard in her life. Reluctantly, she started undressing, first her shirt, then her skirts followed. She reached for her new habit then, but her hand got slapped away by that damned cane.

“Undress completely!” the priestess commanded. Upon Lana’s bemused look she added: “That is all the clothing you will wear. For now.”

Petrified, Lana took a moment to process her request before she turned around and complied, taking off her underwear, facing away from the woman. She half expected to get ordered to turn around, but the sister let her keep at least some degree of modesty. After she had put on her robe and hood, she was handed a simple pair of shoes to walk in. There wasn’t much to them, but she gladly replaced the old, worn-down pair she had arrived in. It all fit her surprisingly well, though the long habit was purposefully loose and there likely wasn’t much to get wrong about it.

“What about the necklace?” she asked, gesturing to the long silver chain on the priestess’ neck, a simple rhombus shape, filled by two more on the inside, hanging on it.

“The pendant symbolizes your rank,” she replied. “You have none.”

All dressed, Lana followed Gertha out through the courtyard and into another building. The sun was already directly overhead and started to fall again. On every turn, they passed a number of sisters and the occasional brother, rushing from place to place or walking in groups with their arms clasped. Eventually they arrived at a refectory where the last of the nuns were finishing their lunch that day. Gertha sat her down at a nearby bench and went to bring their food from the kitchen.

Lana looked around the room to see if she would spot the patch of red hair protruding from a hood again, but she was of no luck. She wandered whether it truly was who she thought and if so, what would she do if she saw her. What did she think about the place? If she could, would have she warned Lana, or did she like it here? That, of course, was counting on the option that it really was her.

She was awoken from her imagination by the sound of plates being placed on the table as Sister Gertha sat down opposite her. They ate in silence and by the time they finished they were left alone in the room, everyone else having already left.

“Now we may proceed to your initiation,” Gertha announced and Lana’s heart skipped a beat. “The ceremony will begin in couple of hours. You must get prepared.”

She led Lana through more halls and into a far-off section of the temple, high, vaulted ceiling looming above them, walls decorated with pillars and big brass candleholders. The windows here were tall and stained, picturing many different events or figures, many of them resemblant to the statues with exposed fronts. Every step further, Lana was becoming more and more nervous.

Eventually, Gertha took a turn through one of the decorated doors they were passing, leading to a small room stacked with shoes and hangers full of habits. She stopped there and turned towards Lana.

“Leave your clothes on the hanger.”

“What?!”

“Clothing isn’t allowed within the sanctum. Disrobe!”

Well, here it was. The moment she would finally lose all her modesty. She stood still like a statue, pinching herself to see it this was just a dream and she would wake up back in the little room. Or back home. She did not.

She reminded herself what the sister had told her the day before:

You must have no shame.

With trembling fingers, Lana slowly took off her habit and hood, clutching it tightly to herself, clinging on to her remaining innocence. But eventually the older priestess’ impatient cough would make her slowly lower it down, exposing her small bust, her petite, pink nipples hardening in the temple’s cold air. Her round cheeks swayed as she approached the hanger and discarded her clothes for good, leaving her fully exposed. She shuddered as her feet touched the cold marble floor after taking off her shoes and at last, not a piece of her had remained covered.

She clasped her hands over her crotch, covering it reflexively and turned to Gertha. The tall priestess did not seem fazed by her nudity and simply exhaled in acknowledgement before proceeding to undress herself. First, she took off her hood, revealing a long mane of hazel hair reaching all the way below her shoulders. Lifting up her pendant, she let the chain slip under her robe so it would not get in the way as she pulled it free from her body.

Lana’s breath stopped. Never in her dreams would she had expected what she beheld.

Beneath the black garb, the priestess was wearing something she could hardly describe. On her huge round breasts, a pair of decorated brass rings covered her nipples, the means by which they held unknown. Small diamond shapes, identical to the one on her pendant, hanged from them, suspended on short bronze-colored chains. Her womanhood was bare for all to see, her mound shaved clean, her lips thin but inviting. But what caught her attention the most was what she witnessed when she turned around. Between her soft, round butt cheeks, she noticed an object she could only describe as a plug inserted in her anus. Bronze like the nipple coverings, I was around the same in diameter and who knows how deep.

She hanged her clothing beside Lana’s, leaving her cane hidden in her robe and turned to her expectantly. Though, it took mere seconds for the sister to undress, Lana stared as if in slow motion. Gertha, it turned out, was not only tall, but built like a Valkyrie. Her shoulders broad, her belly slightly chiseled, her legs long and strong. Her silver chain falling between the valley of her breasts only brought out its size further. She half expected her to take it off, as well as the rest of the oddities, but the priestess turned to continue deeper into the temple, motioning her to follow.

Lana hadn’t realized that one of her hands had left her privates, or what the other one was doing with them. She quickly composed herself and swallowed emptily before following her into the sanctum.

They stepped out into another hall, but this one was incomparable to the other. Its ceiling reached higher beyond the one before, windows at its top letting in light from the outside. The walls were painted with depictions of the strangest rituals and activities, their participants wearing accessories dangerously similar to the ones Gertha worn. They passed numerous siters, all wearing the same coverings over their nipples. Some were bared fully like Gertha, others though wore an odd contraption around their hips. Shaped like iron panties, it was locked in place around their waists, covering their privates for none to see. A key seemed to be required to open it, though who possessed it Lana had no idea.

Most have worn their hoods, though some opted not to. She figured they didn’t quite count as clothing and some priestesses simply used the chance to put them down when in the sanctum.

What surprised her more was the presence of brothers, as well as the fact they were still wearing their brown robes. She stopped dead in her tracks when they were passing a pair, unnerved beyond belief by being exposed in front of men. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to care and passed them without noticing them. It would seem the temple’s inhabitants truly were desensitized to nudity, though she could swear she had glimpsed a tent forming in one’s garments.

They reached another doorway and stepped into a vast room, not dissimilar from a chapel, but lacking seating of any sort. At its end was an altar of some kind and in its center lie a large stone table. Several sisters were present, wearing the same attire or lack thereof. Looking at them, Lana became noticing that all priestesses she had seen so far had large breasts, enough to be considered above average. Even the smallest ones were notably bigger than her nearly flat chest which, she was afraid to admit, had left her a little self-conscious.

At the entrance, Gertha dipped her fingers into a displayed bowl and crossed herself, but in a wrong order, describing the rhombus shaped symbol of Ilaraan order instead of a cross. The liquid from the bowl had left glossy stains on her bare skin. Lana expected the sister to prompt her to do the same, but she ignored her and continued to the altar. As she passed, Lana took a peek into the bowl but didn’t recognize its contents. Whatever it was, it wasn’t holy water.

Approaching the stone table, nervousness gripped her heart. She had no idea what to expect, what would come, only an ominous feeling. The sisters at the altar greeted Gertha by bowing their heads and exchanged a few words she couldn’t catch, then turned to acknowledge Lana. She clumsily mimicked the gesture, unsure if the sisters seemed more satisfied or amused, but they returned it.

“I will leave you to it then,” Gertha announced and went on her way.

“Wait! You can’t leave me here!” Lana whispered aggressively, her heartbeat faster by the moment.

Gerha paid her pleading no mind and was gone as quickly as she arrived, leaving her alone in a half-lit chapel, with people she had never met before. Of course, she had only met her the day prior, but she already viewed her as her guide and she hadn’t left her with strangers so far. Naked strangers no less. Herself naked.

She looked to the ground in shame, avoiding the scrutinous looks upon her. The others at least had their genitals covered, but she was wholly on display. If her cheeks could get any redder, they must have looked like peppers.

The cold tiles were numbing her feet, her composure seeping away by the second. Her breath echoed in the silence of the room, her knees beginning to shake.

At last, one of the sisters addressed her and Lana forced herself to face her. She appeared younger then Gertha as did the other two and they were all a bit shorter. That didn’t mean much though as they still towered over her puny hundred and fifty centimeters and even through their hoods, she could tell they were her seniors. Two of them wore chains different then hers, made of bronze and with only two diamond-shapes instead of three, metal contraptions covering their vulvas.

The third one did not. She wore the same silver chain as Gertha and carried an engraved golden chalice. She stood right in front of Lana and handed it to her with the words: “Drink.”

She nervously grasped it by the stem and took it from her hands. The liquid inside appeared cloudy and reeked of magic. She looked up at her nervously, but she stared her down sternly and didn’t move. Lana took a deep breath and quickly downed the contents. It wasn’t much but it tasted like fermented pears and burned like fire. Her previous brief experiences with alcohol told her that she should have felt her head getting lighter any minute, but before the change emerged, the sister took the chalice away and motioned her to step further and into a big wooden washbasin.

Once inside, she found the water surprisingly warm on her feet, which did them well as feeling returned to them gradually. The other sisters took up pieces of cloth, dipped them in the water and begun cleaning her all over. Slowly, they dragged the washcloths up her arms and over her shoulders, scrubbing away any dirt she had collected during her journey here. Truth be told, it almost felt nice to finally get cleaned, if only it hadn’t been done in such a humiliating manner.

As one sister continued to her back, the other attended to her breasts, rinsing them and carefully rubbing them clean. The water felt much colder on her nipples than on her feet and made them harden involuntarily, which only amplified their sensitivity. Surges of pleasure rushed through her on their contact with the cloth, for which she cursed herself. She should have been petrified with embarrassment not arousal, but it appeared those weren’t mutually exclusive.

Working themselves down, the sisters soon reached her buttocks and vulva, cleaning them without a hint of shame. The same couldn’t have been said about her however, as she stood almost breathless, wishing the earth would open up beneath her and swallow her up. She expected them to just rush over them briefly, but the priestesses seemed to put particular attention to scrubbing her ass cheeks and genitals as thoroughly as possible. Her knees were trembling again and her heart was racing like her life depended on it. Just as she thought the worst was behind her, the sister slipped the cloth between her cheeks and cleaned her crack, moving it all the way down and back up several times before proceeding to her legs.

At the very end, they made her lean forward and poured a jug of water over her head, before thoroughly drying her hair and body with towels. She was hyperventilating and nearly sobbing by the time they finished, almost unable to step out of the basin at all.

It seemed like eternity till one of the sisters spoke. She ordered Lana to come to her and directed her to lay on the table. Chill ran down her spine at the command. The cold stone resembled something barbaric tribes would perform sacrifices on and radiated an ominous feeling. It looked uncomfortable to lay on clothed, let alone naked.

She quietly obeyed, reluctantly sitting on its edge. The thing was tall to the point she had to stand on her toes to push herself up and its cool touch creeped into her bones. Slowly she lifted her legs onto it and lied down, keeping her back and arms straight.

She nervously awaited what would come next, eying her surroundings and observing the sisters, until the eldest pressed her head down, snapping at her to lay still. She tried to catch a glimpse of them without lifting her head, but could only see that much, the elder sister keeping watch. A minute passed and one of the younger sisters returned, carrying a razor while the other held her arm above her head. Lana panicked and started twitching which alerted the big priestess, but the sister produced some kind of cooling balsam and started shaving what little hair she had on her body. Relieved, she stilled herself and tried not to shudder from her tickling touch as she slowly worked around her armpits before moving to her crotch.

The priestess spread apart her legs and she reflexively shut them, feeling embarrassed beyond description by the process. The other sister came to help and Lana slowly relaxed her thighs and let her pull them apart without resistance. Her face was on fire and she tried to avert her eyes as the sister applied the balsam around her mound and labia. Her thighs trembled at her fingers sliding around her lady parts before the cold touch of the razor steadied her.

As she carefully removed every bit of her pubic hair, her associate fetched what looked like an inkpot and a dreadfully looking needle. This time it was no false alarm as she dipped her instrument in the ink, placed it to her underbelly and started tattooing her. Slowly, the needle pierced her skin over and over, right above where her pubes were just a moment ago, a small symbol forming with each sting. The other sister finished shaving her vagina and wiped the remaining balsam off with a cloth, making Lana spasm momentarily, almost ruining the other sister’s work.

A few dozen more pricks and her piece was done, a sharp, black mark presenting itself as she wiped the leftover ink. It was barely larger than a coin and formed an uneven symbol she did not recognize. Lana couldn’t help but feel like a branded cattle. She observed the rough tattoo resentfully, then watched in wonder as it slowly faded into nothing. Where there was fresh, black ink a moment ago only smooth bare skin remained, as if nothing had been done at all.

Still bewildered, she tried to sit up and get off the table, but firm hands pressed he back down again. She wasn’t out yet. There was more to be done before she could leave.

Only now as she laid nervously, the distractions of the needle and razor gone, did Lana realize her breasts were tingling. She could feel them getting warmer, her nipples still hard against all odds. She couldn’t rationally explain the phenomenon, thinking what could have caused the feeling and denying that she would be aroused by the process, until her mind wandered back to the potion. Whatever was in that chalice must have been affecting her breasts somehow. Looking at them, she could swear they had gotten larger. What used to be a nearly flat surface when she laid down, now appeared almost curvaceous. It must have been a trick of her mind though. There was barely any notable difference if any at all. And perhaps, she had just gained some weight since the last time she checked. Yeah, that must have been it.

One of the sisters returned with two small convex disks in hand. As she approached closer, she noticed they were made of brass and had small chains attached to their center, tiny diamond symbols dangling at the end. The same coverings the priestesses wore on their nipples. Lana expected to receive them sooner or later, but in the midst of everything she endured, she had completely forgotten about them.

Hovering over Lana, her breasts directly above her face, the priestess turned the coverings around and with horror, she noticed they had tiny spikes from the other side, directly at the center. She would have preferred later.

The sister spread some kind of viscous liquid around one’s edges and slowly placed the covering over Lana’s nipple. The spike pressed against her erect nipple, sending waves of pain mixed with the slightest hints of pleasure across her nervous system. As the tingling in her breast picked up, the pain slowly dissipated and transformed into stimulation, making her moan through clenched teeth as her crotch started to moisten. The thing stayed attached as if by a spell, supplying her with constant pleasure, until eventually that faded too and only discomfort remained. Before she could recover, second covering was added to her other breast and they had to grab her hand before it could dart to her nipple and remove the thing.

When the pain and pleasure receded and she came down from her high, the second sister returned, carrying a box and a bowl. Lana inspected them as she laid them down beside her feet, the box closed, the bowl appearing to be full of water. The sister opened it and Lana watched as she pulled out what she knew had to be the same bronze plug sister Gertha had worn. Her stomach tightened. The thing was about as long as a thumb and half as thick, with wide, engraved stopper at one end. She soaked it in the bowl’s contents while the other priestess grabbed Lana’s legs by her ankles and lifted them up into the air, baring her anus for her.

She gritted her teeth and held onto the edges of the table, using all her self-control to not jump up or cover her ass as the sister approached it. She trembled so much, the elder priestess came and held her arms to the table, her bare vagina just inches from Lana’s head. As the plug touched her tight ring, spreading cold liquid around her ass, Lana shook in nervousness, the sisters holding her arms and legs firmly. Carefully, the other sister pushed the thick object inside her and she whined and yowled as it spread her wide, eyes shut and watering. One final centimeter and the plug settled in place. Tears were running down Lana’s cheeks, her teeth gnashing at the uncomfortable pressure. She flexed her sphincter and found it unbearably blocked, the feeling of an unfamiliar object filling up her insides driving her crazy.

She noticed then, the mark under her navel was flashing briefly into existence, pale and translucent. It darkened with her every move and faded again when she stilled, snuffing out all accidental pleasure from the object in her ass.

But when she thought she was done, the priestess pulled out even bigger object, also from brass and phallic in shape. She drenched in the bowl and approached her privates, the other sister spreading her legs in the air. This time, Lana could watch as the object was shoved inside her vagina, slowly parting its lips and sliding between its walls. The sister had not stopped pushing until the object reached her cervix, twisting it around to ensure it held.

Though this new sensation felt way more pleasurable than the previous one, the mark sharp and dark in her skin, Lana’s sheer inability to deny it was more than enough to ruin it. The thick metal phallus deep within her passage was making her go insane with arousal, all while being able to do absolutely nothing about it.

When she was sure they would finally let go of her, the sister produced the very same metal device the younger priestesses were wearing and placed it open beneath Lana’s ass. The other priestess lowered her legs and spread them wide for her companion to close the device around her privates, locking it in place around her waist. They sealed it with a small hanging lock and hid away the key, leaving Lana with no access to her own body’s genitals. Unable to remove the inserted objects and unable to touch herself, there was no way for her to ease the maddening stimulus. As she slowly stepped off the table, she noticed there was a large wet spot left after her. She tried to sneak a finger beneath the device’s iron hold, but the thing held tight and left no room for manipulation.

The elder priestess grunted and called her over, directing Lana to follow her.

“Let us proceed now to the baptistery. The ceremony will be nearing its end.”

She led her through the same hall she came from, but took a different turn, to the northern wing of the sanctum. Each step was uncomfortable and distracting, the movement of the toys inside her overwhelming. She wandered what else had awaited her still. She wandered whether Petra had gone through the same.

Arriving at a big set of doors, the tall priestess stopped and opened them for Lana, motioning for her to go first. The room which lay beyond was vast and spacious, more so than normal baptistery. The stained windows in there were true works of art, letting in light only partially, leaving the room illuminated, yet private. The one directly above the altar depicted a large woman at its center, white of skin and completely nude, with white hair and piercing red eyes. Ilaraan.

A long, straight path led from the door to a low altar of some kind, numbers of sisters lining its flanks, watching her intently as she slowly approached it. At the far end of the crowd stood a group of young sisters who she assumed must have been the new initiates. They looked away from the lane and kept mostly to themselves, one scrubbing her face with a towel, furiously. She looked if she would notice red hair among them, but her attention was quickly pointed towards something else.

At the altar, a large golden bowl was set, engraved with rich ornaments and decorated with jewels. Around it, three brothers stood, their robes undone. Next to each a sister kneeled, their hands vigorously stroking their erect penises in quick, practiced motions. Just as she looked, one of the brothers gasped and a spurt of white, cloudy semen erupted from his member, the priestess promptly directing its ejaculation into the bowl. Immediately after, the brother stepped back down from the altar and another took his place, the sister continuing in her work with relentless zeal.

Lana felt dizzy. The scenery in front of her was like something out of a perverted legend, a story told by the drunks, twisted and reshaped into a shameless fantasy. she didn’t know how to react or what to say. She just stood, mouth agape.

A woman spoke from behind them. Standing at the highest step above the altar, Lana hadn’t noticed her till now. She was tall and shaped like a goddess, her massive breast nearing the size of melons, her waist only slightly plump with hips that would put any woman to shame. Her nipples were covered like everyone else’s and her privates bare and without hair. Her only clothing was her hood, though hers was pure white, lacking the usual black, the pendant around her neck golden and with four rhombus shapes with an actual diamond at its center. Her smile was brief but warm and Lana knew that she must have been no one other than Mother Myraan.

“Welcome, child,” she addressed her directly. Her eyes were gentle but set, an immovable purpose behind them. “Today marks the day you become one with the Order of Ilaraan. May your time here lead you to a path of learning and service. Come!” she motioned for her to step closer to the altar. Lana’s feet were nailed to the ground, her mind not following with her instructions. Eventually she slowly approached, uncertain steps on shaky legs, until she stood a mere meter from the altar. Only last brother remained, the sister at his feet jerking and sucking steadily, until he too groaned and shot out his load, the priestess hurriedly taking his member out her mouth and pointing it into the bowl. She spit the remaining semen into it before rising, the brother disappearing into the crowd.

“Kneel,” the mother spoke.

Lana didn’t feel like kneeling, but her knees were giving up beneath her anyway and she slowly sank to the ground. The siter picked up the bowl, now filled almost to the brim and walked towards her. Her breath was fast and irregular and tears were blurring her vision. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, threatening to jump out.