Lana walked out of the washroom clutching her robes to her soaked, naked body. She barely had the time to dry her hair and face with a towel before another girl snatched it away, desperately trying to scrub off the remnants of the baptism. Before the ceremony even ended properly, they were ushered out to get themselves cleaned before they’d be shown to their quarters. The washroom itself was outside the sanctum, meaning they all grabbed their robes on the way out, however, seeing as it was their only clothing, no one was eager to put them on quite yet.

She was aware the black cloth would be damp by now, as she held it close to cover herself, but didn’t really care. Ever since she first witnessed her friend standing naked among the ranks of the newly appointed disciples, face frozen in disbelief, Lana felt like her mind blanked out, her body acting automatically without being told. In a way, it felt almost like she was possessed again. They never spoke a word to each other before they were separated, getting lost in the crowd of maybe thirty confused young women.

The priestess who led them to the washroom stood waiting before the entrance, pointing the cleaned girls to a door further down the hall. Lana stopped, watching as another batch of women, hair still soaked in white goo, pushed their way inside past her, trying to get their turn at one of the washbasins. She tried to remember that they’ve all seen each other naked just moments before (and for that matter, will be seeing each other naked often from now on) and slowly let go of her robes and quickly put them on.

She followed the outstretched finger of the older priestess, arriving at a plain-looking door which led to a long room lined with rows of beds pressed against the walls at each side. There could have been maybe fifty of them, most already occupied, either by a young sister or a pile of robes and other simple belongings signaling the existence of an occupant. Those that weren’t, were in a process of being claimed by one of the new arrivals and that motivated Lana to quickly pick an empty one and make it her own.

She dropped her nun hood at the one she picked and tried to look around to make a better sense of the scenery. All the women in the room wore a copper pendant just like her, meaning they were all lowly disciples, yet it was clear that they had joined an already existing group as some of the sisters present were clearly a long time inhabitants and the large room was quickly filling up.

“Lana?”

She quickly turned around upon hearing the voice and froze. Staring back at her was Petra. In black robe now, but like her, she left her hood down and her mane of red hair was falling down onto her shoulders, framing her pale, freckled face.

“Petra…” she mumbled. She didn’t know what to say. Her throat clenched and so she just stood there, silent and still. Suddenly, the girl threw herself around her shoulders and hugged her, holding her strong and tight, her breath coming in quick ripples. Just like that, Lana’s trance had broken, and all the emotions flooded her at once. She could feel tears flowing down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hair, returning the hug. She couldn’t tell how long they stood like that, but she didn’t care. Everything else in the room ceased to matter.

“How… how did…” she stammered.

“Stop!” Petra said. “Don’t say anything!”

They sat down on Lana’s bed and Petra proceeded to tell her everything. From how she got away from the raid, her arrival at the Temple and everything about her stay up to this moment. From what she could tell, it went exactly the same as for her, with the exception that Petra had spent weeks awaiting her initiation along with the other girls and through the gossip had managed to get a better idea of what was to come. It still wasn’t enough to prepare any of them.

Some time into their chat, they noticed that the room was now full, every bed being taken. A few of the last girls peeked into the room, before being sent next door into another dormitory. In short time, the older priestess who had led them here came in to check. She hadn’t said a word as she scrutinized the room, her sharp gaze piercing through Lana as it passed her.

“Once again, I welcome you amongst our ranks, disciples,” she proclaimed finally. The words didn’t carry any feelings with them, her face remaining blank as she spoke.

After a moment of silence, she added: “It is dark by now. I encourage you to take a good night’s sleep. Come the morning, you will begin your time in the service of the Temple.”

When she closed the door, the room fell into silence. True to her words, the sky beyond the curtained widows was black as pitch and the few lit candles on the night tables besides the beds provided only a dim light.

After a while, one of the older disciples rose and stood at the opposite end of the room, facing the new group.

“Now that Big Sister had gone to sleep,” she said, voice young and not as deprived of emotion as the rest of the priestesses, “first of all, let me welcome you. I am Sister Othella. If you have any questions, I can answer them now.”

Immediately, few voices rose up from among the crowd.

“What the fuck is wrong with this place?” asked a tall, hazel-haired girl, slim as a stick.

“Wrong?” asked Othella.

The girls stared back at her for a moment. “Yes! How else would you describe what is happening here? What these people do? How would they look at this back home?”

“Just because some people somewhere don’t do something the same way, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Most people come here precisely because they’re unsatisfied with the life they live outside. If you want to stay here, you must let go of your inhibitions. That’s the first thing you are going to learn here.”

The answer seemed to have left the girl without further arguments, or the will to argue further, and, as Lana had to admit, it struck a particular nerve with herself as well. She too had yearned to join the Ilaraan Priestesses for that exact reason.

“What’s going to happen to us now?” someone else asked.

“As disciples, you are going to join the rest of us here in training to become priestesses. You are going to work around the temple, learn all the necessities of priesthood and worshipping the goddess. As well as undergo all the physical training.

“Which goddess?”

“Ilaraan, you fool!” another of the new initiates scolded the girl.

Ilaraan. Lana considered the name with a bitter trace of mistrust. The priestesses worshiped the illusive goddess, but barely spoke about her. Her mind wandered back to the stained window of the baptistery, depicting a naked milk-white skinned, white haired woman with red eyes. She was only guessing when she identified the woman as Ilaraan, but even this small hint to the goddess’s identity felt better than knowing nothing at all.

The others seemed to share her sentiment about the mysterious figure, as no one reacted to the name in any way at all but with lowered heads.

“What about these?” a small, darker-skinned girl asked in low voice, meekly motioning to the metal device around her hips, peeking through her loose robe. “Will they come off?”

“Disciples keep their belts on at all times when we’re not training. There are several keys opening different sets of belts. Junior priestesses — the ones with bronze pendants — are entrusted their own keys. Only Senior priestesses, with silver pendants, don’t have to wear them. If you need to use the restroom, a sister will unlock the belt for you. Other than that, you will have to get used to them.”

“All the time?!” asked a tan, wide hipped girl with raven hair. She was shifting uncomfortably on her bed and her face betrayed deep irritation.

“If you really can’t help yourself,” Othella said, “Brother Martin can pick locks. They serve a glass of wine at the refectory on Thursdays. He will do it if you smuggle him yours. Or if you offer to do some of his work for him. Just make sure not to lose the lock! If they find out about it, you won’t only have the punishment from the senior priestesses to worry about. If you bust his business, there will be a lot of angry sisters on your ass.”

“Don’t worry” she added after getting skeptical looks from a few new girls. “He won’t try to get you to have anything with him.”

“Shame,” answered the raven-haired girl, lying down on the bed, relaxedly.

“But… aren’t we supposed to learn to ignore pleasures of the flesh?” asked a new girl from the other side of the room. “This goes against everything we’re here for!”

“You must know what you want from your time here yourself,” Othella answered bluntly.

No one seemed to have any further questions for now, or at least none that they were willing to ask. After some time, Othella announced that they should get some sleep now and everyone slowly shuffled into their beds. Lana and Petra traded a look, then after muttering brief farewells, Petra hesitantly retreated to her own bed.

If the word was right, a day of education and labor awaited them come the morning. Whatever that entailed in this place, better to face it well rested and prepared.

* * *

They weren’t lying when they said “morning”. No sooner did the first rays of sunlight peeked through the horizon, than the priestess blew the door open with a lit candle in hand, lighting the one in the entrance while shouting directions. The group of newly appointed sisters reacted much more slowly than the already acclimated girls, failing to rise from their bed before the priestess produced a loud bang by smacking a cane against a wall. They got fifteen minutes to clean themselves in the washroom before breakfast would be served at the refectory, with or without them.

They wasted no time, quickly making themselves presentable and followed the older disciples to fill up on some food before getting down to work.

A priestess took a hold of the new group after their breakfast and led them on a quick tour through the temple complex, showing them what is where so they could orientate themselves in the upcoming days.

Much of the life in the temple seemed to consist of relatively mundane tasks necessary for the proper function of the community: harvesting food at the fields or in the orchard, washing clothes, cleaning, cooking, crafting. Everything one would expect at any ordinary monastery. There were, however, places they visited, but only from the outside, getting only vague descriptions of their functions. Namely the infamous sanctum remained excluded from the overview.

Afterwards, they were ordered to arrive at one of the priestess’s chambers where they would each get assigned their portion of the work they would be contributing from then on. They had some time to spare and so everyone scattered somewhere else, most electing to visit the restroom. After chatting with Petra, Lana decided to do the same, quickly searching for one of the restrooms they passed during their excursion.

She found the room to be empty, safe for a priestess standing watch over the place, a stack of keys hanging around her neck. She timidly approached her and asked to use the stall. After ordering her to slip out of her robe, the priestess checked the lock on her belt, then rummaged through the keys until she produced one and leaned down to unlock the device.

The woman took the lock from the belt and motioned Lana to remove it. She placed the metal construct on a table beside the priestess, then proceeded to remove the… other accessories.

Lana released a deep breath as she slid out the brass phallus she had carried within herself since the day prior. The problem arose when it came to removing the other object. She carefully felt for the stopper of the plug inside her anus and tried to pull it out, only, when she tried, she felt as though she would split herself open. She leaned on the table with one hand, reaching behind with the other.

Come on, she calmed herself. It went in, it must go out.

She tried pulling it several times, but every time she did, she panicked and let go again. She didn’t notice the small trail of wetness slowly creeping down her inner thig, or the mark tattooed bellow her navel briefly flashing into existence.

Finally, she pulled one last time and it popped out, a small moan accidentally escaping through her clenched teeth. When she opened her eyes, she remembered there was a woman watching her quietly in her struggle and a wave of redness washed over her face. She meekly put the plug on the table and silently retreated farther into the room and hid herself in one of the stalls.

The feeling of being free from the constraining belt now seemed odd to Lana for a moment, like walking again after a day of sitting on a horse. The absent feeling of fullness from the “accessories” left an unusual sensation in her. As if she had forgotten something.

Finishing, she got herself clean and was about to leave the stall, when she started paying attention to her breasts. They were still covered by the brass rings, and she was surprised to realize she no longer felt the spikes poking into her nipples. She tried touching one and a small burst of pain and pleasure shot through her until she removed her finger. Her mark appeared above her vagina again, before slowly fading out. She touched the ring once more and watched as the symbol darkened, its edges becoming sharper and more defined.

Her hand subconsciously fell down to her privates and began hovering above her slit, gliding over her entrance like a soft breeze, slowly working herself up. She gently parted her lips when a loud knock on the stall put an end to her brief intimate moment.

She exited the stall and found the belt and accessories cleaned and prepared at the table, beside a bowl of the clear, slimy liquid the sisters used when first inserting them. Electing not to use it, she hesitantly picked up the phallus, opened her legs and carefully started pushing between her already lubricated lower lips. It went inside as easy as it went out and once it was buried all the way in, she reached for the plug.

This time, she dipped it in the bowl, letting the excess lubricant drip off before spreading her cheeks apart with one hand and finding her hole with the other. She was beet red during the whole ordeal and her face was burning. But after what felt like eternity the thing still refused to go in. It was more her own nervousness that prevented it from entering rather than the difficulty of the task, but be as it may, she had failed to reinsert the plug herself and that made the priestess step in.

She took the plug from Lana and made her lean on the table. She held her ass cheeks open and pressed the tip of the object right against her ring, then pushed in at once, spreading her hole like a ram. Lana’s mouth opened wide, but she didn’t make a sound, choking on her moans before they could escape her. Her legs were trembling as the priestess pushed the plug in the last few centimeters before it settled in up to the hilt. Lana’s whole body shook and she covered her mouth with her hand, gripping the edge of the table as her whole body convulsed and trembled, her breath ragged and irregular. A small puddle formed beneath her spread legs and the mark on her belly glowed white and hot as a desperate whimper slipped through her fingers.

When she came down from her high and stopped trembling it dawned on her what just happened, and she almost fainted at the horrible realization that she just came from a priestess pushing a brass toy into her ass. A Priestess that was still standing beside her, watching her the whole time as she wallowed in her shame. She didn’t know how long she was standing there, but when she eventually pulled her hand from the table, she grabbed the belt and put it on, closing it around her hips without raising her eyes from the ground. The priestess then put the lock in place and secured it, all without so much as uttering a word. Lana quickly put her robes on and silently rushed out of the restroom. If such a mundane interaction could make her fall apart like this, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to learn to ignore the pleasures of the flesh.

She joined back with her group at the chamber, crestfallen and embarrassed like hell. Petra noticed something was off, but Lana simply brushed her off and she had the wits not to pry further. They each had gotten their work assigned to them by an old priestess, oldest Lana had yet encountered, pushing fifty at least, but still retaining a slim figure and a healthy posture. She had gotten laundry, which didn’t excite her, but at least it was something she could do. It disappointed her however that Petra had gotten an entirely different job, namely helping out in the kitchen. She had hoped that despite the odds they would end up together, but alas, fate had decided otherwise.

Then, when they were all settled, came the time for education.

They converged in a lecture hall of sorts. There were rows of benches not unlike in a church, except they were accompanied by tables, some still lined with books and parchments. A priestess stood at the far end of a room and motioned them to take a seat. Loud thuds and clicks resonated through the room as they all sat, despite the fabric of their robes. This was to be the place where they would be learning the theory about the history and practices of the Ilaraan order, as well as the mysterious figure of their worship.

Lana’s brief excitement was snuffed out quickly, as it became clear there was no time for complicated lessons yet today. The first subject for discussion was the evening prayer that took place every day. The lecturing priestess described to them the whole process in detail, what to do and how. She taught them how to “cross” themselves upon entering the Sanctum Shrine, drawing the diamond shape by first touching her forehead, then right shoulder, the spot just under her navel, her left shoulder and ending at her forehead again. They all repeated the gesture after her.

She made them memorize a rather lengthy prayer to Ilaraan, which, to Lana’s interest, on several occasions referred to her under names such as Childless Mother or the Insatiable One. She wouldn’t give them any trivia about that. Maybe one day.

When their lesson concluded, the day was nearing end and it was about time for the prayer itself. Before dinner, they all headed to the Shrine, which was unsurprisingly located in the sanctum, meaning they all had to abandon their robes at the entrance. Most sisters chose to keep their hood on, as did Lana, presumably so they could keep at least their heads hidden, giving them a false sense of anonymity.

The entrance to the shrine was located at the northernmost end of the sanctum and took form of an enormous set of doors, leading to an even more enormous hall. In the vestibule, a monk was currently in the process of refiling the bowl meant for the “crossing”. He stood before it with his robe undone, hand furiously stroking his erect member pointed at the bowl. They watched and waited as he shot his load into the waiting vessel, covering it in white, gooey liquid, before they were allowed to continue.

The first disciple reluctantly dipped her finger in the stuff, then drew the symbol as they were taught, leaving glossy spots across her naked body. Second girl, the thin, hazel-haired one, followed suit, making uneasy faces as she did it. The wide-hipped, black-haired girl dipped her finger in generously as she repeated the gesture, then sucked the remaining stuff off her finger.

When it was Petra’s turn, she froze, looking at the bowl with something akin to hatred. Lana observed her friend with heavy heart, knowing she might be likely coming to regret her decision to come here. Petra stood there long enough to stir up unrest among the waiting line before she dipped a hesitant digit in as lightly as she could, then drew the shape on herself.