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The Temple In The Distant Blue

The Temple In The Distant Blue

by purpleswordpanties
19 min read
4.55 (4800 views)
adultfiction

Synopsis:

A young woman encounters an ancient sect that worships a sensual goddess.

Author's Note:

A story I wrote for a reader. I welcome any feedback you may have! I hope you enjoy it!

**************************************

THE TEMPLE IN THE DISTANT BLUE

Section 1.

Whenever I find myself weary of the grind, whenever the cubicles and coffee machines of my office leave me wondering if there is more to life than pencil pushing and customer complaints, and whenever the lungs in my chest ache for the great expanse of the wider world instead of stuffy, corporate air, I grab my phone and text my supervisor that I will be gone for the next few weeks to rejuvenate my spleen and find my identity again lest I wither and die from the crushing dearth of inspiration.

"Again, Astrid?" My coworker Sandy clacked away at the keyboard. "Where are you off to this time? Tijuana? Honolulu?"

"I'm not sure," I said, tossing some coconut hand lotion and sanitizing wipes into my purse. "I'm thinking some yoga retreat in the tropics. You know, way out there in the Pacific where no one can find me!"

"Ain't going by yourself, are you? I keep telling you traveling alone is gonna get you in trouble one of these days."

"Oh, stop. I've done this dozens of times. It's really quite invigorating! Besides, I'm going with a group I found online. It's perfectly safe."

Sandy shrugged.

"If you say so. Daily updates, okay?"

And in the end, I decided to reserve myself two to three weeks for my unplanned excursion. I found myself somewhere off in the distant blue--further west than the Pacific, but not quite as far as the Indian Ocean--on the fringes of civilization where McDonalds, Starbucks, and the like had not yet penetrated. There, the island air was sweet and lovely, and the tantalizing and savory aromas of curries, sweets, and other local faire drifted in the village marketplace amidst the kiss of the exotic yet familiar sun.

Alas, I was a lone visitor in a distant land. I had informed my group leader that I would head out on my own for a while and that I would return to my hotel room by sunset. Be that as it may, sunset came and I had not yet found the yoga retreat I paid through the nose for.

"H-hello?!" I called out to throngs of passersby. "Does anyone know where the Delima Yoga Retreat is? Anyone?"

I was in a very small town whose name I couldn't pronounce. And having little more than a knapsack, a pair of black shorts hugging my hips, and a grey tanktop with tennis shoes, I realized all too late that with my blond hair I stuck out among the natives like a black sheep.

By the looks of things, those natives seemed to be of an East Asian ancestry. Their skin varied in shades of brown and tan. They wore their hair in braids, buns, and dreadlocks, looking as though their fashions had not changed in a century. Women of all ages balanced baskets of water above their heads. I could hear the local language all around me, but their words fell deaf on my American ears.

"D-does anyone here speak English? Anyone?"

Then I felt a tug on my shirt.

"Yes! I speak! I speak!"

Oh, thank God, I thought.

She was a short, elderly woman in a blue dress and a straw hat, carrying a large basket of green cantaloupes. Her wrinkled smile was spread from ear to ear and--feeling confident--I unfolded the print-out from my purse.

"I am looking for a yoga retreat," I said slowly, mimicking yoga exercises. "Yoga! Delima Yoga Retreat! Do you know it?"

"Yoga? You like yoga?" She picked up a kebab of jerky and waved it in my face.

"No, no! No meat!" I spoke.

"Oh, you are vegetarian?"

She handed me a large cantaloupe.

"Yes I am. Err, I mean no! I'm looking for a Yoga retreat! Y-O-G-A!"

"It's okay! We celebrate! You have for free!"

"Wha--!"

I staggered as she plopped the heavy, green orb in my hands and promptly left.

Good grief.

Could this day get any worse?

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.

Down what would have normally been a fairly usual alley, I glimpsed the outline of a set of stairs ascending the village's mountainside. The steps disappeared into an overgrowth of ivy and scarlet flowers. Moss-laden stone idols, vaguely resembling a feminine form, stood on both sides of the stairway like guardians of a temple. And with a furrowed brow, I decided that having little else to turn to, and having found no one to help me in my hour of need, that proceeding down this strange alley was my best option. And while one might second guess going down such a path--especially a lone woman like myself--I, Astrid, couldn't resist the allure of adventure.

With the melon tucked under my arm, I ambled down the dirt alley, the hustle and bustle of the market behind me quietly fading. The stone steps before me were blanketed in a thick overgrowth, as though no one had come this way in at least a few years. And when I looked upwards and saw the gables of a scarlet roof on the cliffside, I tightened my grip on my belongings, gulped, then cautiously began the trek up the stairs.

"Huff..."

Minutes passed; I was out of breath before I knew it. And when I turned to look behind me, I found the rooftops of the village lay far below as I had climbed several dozen meters.

And when I continued the trek and finally reached the top, what I saw took my breath away.

Carved in intricate stone and marble was a grand temple adorned with statues and tangled with tresses of ivy and thorn. The temple entrance was wide-open; there was not a hinged door in sight. And from within that entrance, I smelled myriad scents, some pleasant and others peculiar. The strange, exotic aroma wafted through the air--almost like a minty perfume with a hint of sweetness.

For a moment, I thought I had stumbled upon some incredible archaeological find.

"Huh--?"

Chanting?

I could hear a procession of voices deep within.

Yoga retreat? I thought to myself. This must be it! Right?

Still holding my melon, I glanced around for any kind of legible signage. And having found none, I decided to quietly venture inside.

Section II.

Firey braziers crackled within.

The temple was much larger on the inside than on the outside. And when I began to take photos of the relief art with my phone, it was only then when I realized my phone no longer had any reception.

Obviously, this was due to the altitude, wasn't it?

From top to bottom, the temple walls were laden with ancient carvings and cuneiform letters. The ceilings were unusually high, and the path within was labyrinthine and maze-like. The torches had been well-oiled, signifying that there were people here and I wasn't simply imagining that the chanting was getting louder.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" My voice reverberated down the dark hall. No response.

Those same idols at the bottom of the stairway had been carved into the walls every few feet, and as I advanced I began to have the distinct impression that they were objects of worship. A goddess perhaps? In the flickering light of the flames, they almost looked alive.

Deeper and deeper the winding halls went, as if the temple itself were carved from the inside of the mountain.

Then, I finally emerged on a balcony in a large, cavernous room. What I saw took my breath away.

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"Oooooooohhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

There must have been hundreds of them!

Throngs of men and women in white robes sat in a perfect grid as far as my eyes could see, chanting in unison. A song of what I could only assume to be one of worship filled my chest with an indescribable pleasance. And at the very back of the room, standing much taller than anything else I had seen, was a massive statue of the very same goddess whose idols I saw at the entrance. Her hair was long and flowing--like mine--and she wore only a loincloth around her thighs. Her bare chest, masterfully sculpted from a pitch-white stone, would have been enough to make any man blush.

"Wow..." I silently mouthed.

This wasn't yoga, but--

"May I help you?"

The voice came out of nowhere.

"Ah!"

I jumped, and I turned.

His was a dark-faced complexion much older than I was. He was balding and unshaven with a paling beard, and he wore circular spectacles with his white robes and sandals. He did not seem angry; rather, just the opposite.

I stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"Welcome, welcome. There is no problem."

"Um, is this the yoga retreat? I went online and reserved--"

"Yes, yes! You are exactly where you should be," he replied simply.

"Oh, thank God. I was beginning to wonder. Because you know, there is no sign outside, and I came here all by myself--!"

"Yes, it was the

Mother

who brought you here."

The gentleman smiled.

"Oh? Is that the name of your goddess?" I asked.

"Yes. She has spoken to you already?" His eyes lit up.

"I, well, sometimes! I'm a very spiritual person. I meditate all the time."

"I see! I am the patriarch in this place. Would you like to join us in ceremony?" He motioned downstairs. "Your brothers and sisters would meet you."

"Yes, I would love that!"

"And the melon? Is it an offering?"

"Um... well, yes, actually!" I nodded.

The world works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?

"The

Mother

appreciates your incredible kindness. Come, come--"

The man led me by the hand down the stairwell. And there, on the bottom floor, I came face to face with the worshippers themselves--hundreds of them--all lined up perfectly on the marble floor.

They were each seated on a white cushion with their legs crossed and their hands clapped together in prayer. Their immaculate white robes were loose and billowing. And to my surprise, their ethnicities were not entirely homogenous: I spotted a blond man, and a Latina woman, and an Asian woman further away. Were they tourists like myself?

"Come, you sit here. There is initiation. You will like."

"What kind of in--"

"Shh!"

The gentleman smiled.

Then, without another word, he stepped away.

I quickly sat down on my cushion, crossing my legs as the others did. Several of the worshippers glanced my way. I had already gotten use to strange looks by the locals, but these people seemed different somehow.

"Oooooooohhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

The spiritual aura was electric. The combined voices of hundreds in unison--the deep timbre of men and the calming treble of women--bounced off the walls in perfect unison, forming a primeval song that both terrified me and wormed its way into the chambers of my heart. I told myself there was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing.

The great statue that was their Goddess loomed at the forefront of the room, sitting cross-legged as everyone else did. Her fingers were oddly clasped together with her pinky and forefingers extended outward, and I attempted to emulate that position albeit in a clumsy way.

"Now--" The patriarch whispered in my ear. "You must first be cleansed."

In the dimness, I spotted a chalice being passed around with what I assumed was holy water. A worshipper ahead of me took a sip, closed her eyes, then gulped before passing the cup to me. I looked down into the swirling, clear liquid that had been sipped by dozens of people already. Perhaps I should have asked what it was, but that would have been rude, wouldn't it?

I stopped asking silly questions, took a sip, and passed the cup on.

"To be cleansed," the gentleman continued. "Your worldly possessions must first be forfeited."

"My what?"

I didn't quite understand what he meant at first. I had left my shoes and knapsack on the balcony above. Naturally, when I felt the hands of my neighboring worshippers reaching for my clothes, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

The dusky-skinned woman to my right rose from her cushion and gently pulled my top over my head. With a sigh, I reluctantly raised my arms and allowed her to remove it, exposing my grey sports bra to the entire congregation much to my chagrin. And when I felt another pair of hands--male hands--from my left side, I jumped again and felt a creeping discomfort that I tried to ignore. Together, the two people pulled up on the hem of my sports bra, pulling it over my shoulders entirely.

"Brrr..."

Cold goosebumps erupted down my back. Now topless, I crossed my arms to conserve what modesty I had left.

But they were not finished. With a quick motion they bade me rise to my knees. Their fingers slipped under my waistband and slowly rolled my shorts down inch by inch. And when they finally finished wiggling them off, exposing my black lingerie in their entirety, they tossed my clothes into a wicker basket along with my smartphone.

Oh God.

They weren't going to remove my panties too? Surely not?

The woman took the basket of clothes and made her way back up the stairs. There I knelt, almost completely naked, with more than a few eyes on me. I presumed the woman would bring a robe back for me, but it was admittedly taking some time...

"Many of your brothers and sisters seem to be inexplicably drawn to you." I heard the patriarch whisper in my ear.

"Huh?" I jumped, clutching my chest.

"You resemble the

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Primordial Mother

. Perhaps you are a True Daughter?"

"I-I don't know what that is," I said.

The gentleman smiled.

"If the

Mother's Will

brought you home, as was prophesized, you will understand soon."

All of a sudden, I realized that no clothing was coming my way, and that my standing here on my knees in nothing but my knickers was exactly what they intended. My gut was spinning, but the man seemed insistent that I was in the right place.

Yes, I had to trust in the process. I had to be tolerant and understanding. Surely everyone else had been through the same procedure?

And so, I knelt there for some time while the procession chanted, drowning out the crackling of the flaming braziers. And once I understood that the lyrics of the song were actually being repeated, I began to pick up on the pattern and chanted with them. As I sang, I began to forget my own self-consciousness and discomfort.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all?

Then, the chanting ended abruptly.

I glanced around, wondering what would happen next.

The patriarch's voice spoke to me again.

"Now you will feel her goodness. You will feel the boundless love of the

Primordial Mother."

I nodded. Though to what, I couldn't say.

The dusky man and woman who helped undress me earlier returned and quietly knelt beside me, setting down a clinking basket of colored bottles. I smelled myriad scented oils--the same intensive floral aroma of honey and mints from the temple entrance.

Then, another man and woman--a pair of blondes--stepped forward from the congregation and knelt beside me. As though playing out a time-honored ceremony they had done hundreds of times before, they passed the bottles of scented oils among them and poured their contents into their palms.

When I felt the first among them place his hands on my back, spreading the cool oils upon my skin, I gasped. My nose flared. The powerful fragrance of what I thought was sandalwood and sage--but much, much stronger--blazed like a fire through my nostrils and into my lungs. I coughed.

"Relax," said the man. "Relax."

I slackened by shoulders, allowing my hands to fall to my sides. Another pair of hands came from behind me, gliding smoothly across my pale shoulders and rubbing in another layer of oils. The prickly sensation activated my pores like nothing I had ever felt before.

It was good. Yes, this is what I had come for.

Then another pair of hands--a woman's hands, I think--reached for my sides, feeling my ribs. Her palms glided across my skin in a circular motion, spreading the oils deeply. I was normally very ticklish and sensitive there, but the relaxing effect of the oils did much to assuage my discomfort.

"Hah..." I breathed slowly, allowing their hands to travel all over my body.

The woman's fingers then passed over the small mounds of my breasts, and I felt the smooth tips of her fingers clip the peaks of my hardened nipples as she continued to massage the oils. This act shouldn't have been sexual in nature, and yet my body seemed to be reacting against my will. Again and again, the woman's supple fingers kneaded into the soft mounds of my boobs, and I felt all the oils of her devoted supplication cleansing my pores.

"Ohhhhh," My voice cracked before I could clamp my lips shut.

I was not a particularly well-endowed woman, having only an A-cup, and I had not known own breasts to be particularly sensitive. But in this moment, they were the most reactive part of my body. And when my attendant's fingers pinched my nipples so gently that it was more pleasurable than painful, I swore internally and arced my back. The electricity leapt from my nipples to my toes.

Oh God!

I couldn't let them know. I couldn't let them know how this was actually making me feel. This was surely a sin, and I bit my lip hard to pull myself from the tide of pleasure lest they unwittingly drown me in it.

"Ah..."

And then their hands fell on my hips. I nearly jumped when I felt their fingers slip uninvited under the band of my panties. I was so engrossed in their touch that, for a moment, it didn't register that they were slowly dragging my panties down.

"Hey--!" I protested.

"Relax," I heard the patriarch in my ear again. "Let the

Mother

embrace you. You will feel her bliss. The absolute--

absolute

--bliss."

"Uhn..."

I squirmed. I wanted to wriggle away. I clamped my thighs tight together as the two pairs of hands inched my panties down from side to side.

This is fine.

This is totally normal.

This is their way. And when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Yes.

I brought my hand to my mouth, gnawing at my skin with my two front teeth as I often did when I was nervous. When I felt my panties finally drop to my knees, and I felt the temple air tousle the trimmed wisps of my pubis, I could no longer hide the reality of my arousal.

Their hands continued downward. When they applied yet more oil down my navel and beyond, I realized that this was no accident. The slender fingers of the woman snaked through my mound, applying more scented oil there, rubbing it gently into my pubic bone.

At the same time, the thicker fingers of a male glided down to the small of my back, spreading more oils there, until those same fingers grazed the top of my bottom. I gasped as the man ground his middle finger up and down directly across my tailbone--just above my anus--spreading the oils in a surprisingly smooth and satisfying massage.

"Mm..."

And from the front, the woman's fingers delved further downwards, until she had finally reached the lips of my awaiting vulva.

"Ahh..."

The pads of her fingers rubbed smoothly upon my labia, spreading my flesh up and down with gentle but decisive strokes, again, and again. She spread the oils like a lubricant through all my major and minor folds with a shameless abandon, sluicing her fingers in their entirety into my most private, intimate place.

"Uhhhhh...!"

I heaved a moan. Sparks of pleasure spun a hive in my brain, electrifying me from my head to my toes. I squirmed and shuddered and bucked my hips as the worshippers fondled me from both front and back.

The woman's middle finger briefly brushed against my sensitive clitoris.

"Oh... oh God..." I mouthed.

I was not a teenager anymore. I was no longer in the habit of masturbation as such a habit was contrary to the pursuit of spirituality and enlightenment. Sex was reserved for the making of children, or at the very least an expression of romantic love.

But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps enjoying this was the correct thing here.

"Mmmmph!" I bit my knuckle hard, marking my skin with my teeth.

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