Small Sins Worship

Maria Quartus, priestess of Virta, nervously fussed with her vestments as she sat before the entry to the office of the Madre Primus, Callista Secsterces, the leader of the faith of Virta in their city.

The door opened, one of her fellow junior priestesses stepping out. "Madre Calista will see you now, sister." she said, and Maria stood.

Maria stepped into the office, nerves buzzing.

Callista was tall, dark hair drawn back in a braid, the dark green vestments of the Madre Primus of Virta highlighting a lush figure that had drawn the eye of many men during the harvest festivals... and Maria's as well.

"Madre Primus, thank you for meeting with me." Maria said.

She smiled indulgently. "Of course, daughter. My duty is to guide Virta's daughters as much as it is to lead her worship." she said.

"Take a seat, and tell me what's troubling you, daughter." Callista said.

Maria sat, brushing a hand over her vestments and gulped. Now or never.

"I... need your advice. I have been having... thoughts, urges unbecoming of a priestess of Virta." she said.

"Thoughts alone are not evil, daughter, and neither are urges arising from the body. We were made from the stuff of gods, and so we inherit their flaws.

Only action can be sinful, for only action is done with intent and choice." Callista said, smiling gently.

"Tell me of these urges that trouble you so, and do not fear my censure." she said, reaching out and taking Maria's hand.

Maria blushed. "Well, Honored Mother, I uh... I..." she looked up at Callista's gently smiling face, gulped, and spoke in a rush.

"I have dreams about you. Fantasies, I... you're beautiful and perfect and devout and pretty and I..." she saw surprise on Callista's face, her hand tensed, and she went quite with a squeak.

Callista gulped. "Tell me the nature of these, ahem, fantasies..." she said.

"I..." Maria blushed. "They're too blasphemous..." she said.

"They are merely thoughts, daughter. Acting on them would be, but so long as they are thoughts, they are no sin." Callista said, her equanimity apparently back in full force.

"I... sometimes I imagine catching you in the bath... or... or you catching me, and me uh... performing, for you. But then there's..." Maria gulped again.

"I had a dream of the Dedication ceremony, but instead of happening in daylight, it happened at night, and the other younger daughters were there, and we had to... uh, strip, and you were there in the middle, where the goddess's idol is, naked, and we had to... demonstrate our devotion to you." she said, blushing profusely.

Callista blushed in response, and gulped. "I... well. It's not a sin to have... fantasies, dear. Just, remember that your actual conduct does reflect upon Virta, and she calls on us to be chaste in our dealings. I would suggest praying to her regarding this." Callista said.

"Of course, honored mother." Maria said.

"Very well, go in peace, daughter." Callista said.

[]

As the door slid shut behind the younger priestess, Callista gulped. A dream so similar to one she herself had had, with the young Maria being initiated as she had described. How strange.

She was young, yet so focused, driven in her devotion to their goddess, it was perhaps no surprise that Callista would feel affection for her, but this... base, feral lust, as though she were one of the ancient Virtian priestesses, who honored the goddess with orgies and sexual rites, was unbecoming of a modern acolyte of the goddess.

She resolved to abase herself before the goddess again and pray for forbearance.

[]

Virta was not embodied, truly. A deity was more of a free-floating idea, empowered and called into being through worship. But if they lived long enough, deities became less reliant on those who worshiped them for their personalities and thoughts, and became more independent.

Virta was older than Hellas, older than the ancient tribes who had brought her worship to the verdant, burning mountains and black soil of Hellas, and in all that time, she had been a goddess of fertility. And her rites had been typified by demonstrations of fertility, and sacred sexual rites.

She had been quite fond of attaching herself to her high priestesses, and miraculously inspiring pregnancy during lesbian sex. She had also quite enjoyed causing her male priests and transgender women priestesses to be suddenly pregnant as well.

The surprise was fun, the way they invariably became more devoted to her worship in gratitude, especially the girls made rather than born, was touching.

Despite the fact she had more worshipers now than she'd ever had in those old days, the sudden obsession with chastity had cut off the part she enjoyed most.

The old ritual of initiation, dreams of which she'd pushed into the minds of her two most devoted followers in the city, had two purposes. To initiate new lovers of the goddess, and to slake her lusts. As goddess of fertility, her lust built and built throughout the season.

And in that release, her power would be unleashed upon her faithful, answering prayers and inspiring fertility of man, beast and crops alike.

But it had been one hundred and two years since the Marriage of Virta rite had been performed, and she was increasingly pent up.

And those most devoted to her service were beginning to feel the arousal, the sexual hunger that she'd spent a century having built up with no release.

As two of her most devoted, First Mother and Honored Daughter, prayed for her help in combating her divine arousal, she finally gave up. She was overcharged with divine power, with no way to send it anywhere thanks to the new cult's obsession with purity. She was going to get release one way or another, and if she couldn't get the two of them to help her on their own, she was going to set things up so they did anyway.

[]

The ritual consecration of the central Icon in the heart of the temple was one of the few times the modern cult of Virta actually entered and used it, and it was the closest thing to a true old ritual of Virta.

The Madre Primus and one trusted priestess would enter, on the night before the summer solstice, the holiest day of Virta's religion, dressed only in a slip, and anoint the Icon and make prayers and burn herbs and incense.

As the summer solstice approached, Maria was called before the Madre Primus.

"I want you to join me in re-consecrating the shrine of Virta." Callista said.

"Me, honored mother?" Maria squeaked.

"Yes. You are one of the most devoted of the younger Daughters, and you are the best choice for it." Callista said.

Left unsaid, but implied by her conciliatory expression, was that maybe such a holy act would help with the unchaste urges they both had.

[]

The breeze brushed over maria's body beneath the sheer slip she wore, and she was glad the temple complex was sealed, as she walked towards the heart of the temple, the enclosed greenhouse, and at its heart, the Icon.

The feeling of the warm breeze beneath her shift caused heat to build in her nethers.

The daylight had heated the tiles beneath her feet to that perfect heat just a hair shy of being painful, and on feet used to the protection of shoes or sandals it was almost painful in a way that sent frissons of sensation up her legs into her nethers with each step.

Maria was squirming, her pussy dripping a little as she met the First Mother at the gates to the conservatory.

The sight of the Madre Primus in the same slip did Maria's mounting arousal no favors, as the sheer silk of the slip, on Callista's curvier body and darker skin meant she could almost see beneath it, Callista's nipples tented the material where it was otherwise tight over her breasts, and Maria's eye was drawn almost magnetically to them.

She gulped and forced herself to look Callista in the eyes.

"Are you ready dear?" Callista asked.

"Yes miss." Maria said.

A small wooden box rested on a stone planter to one side of the entry to the conservatory, containing a few glass bottles and some folded towels of thick wool.

Callista handed Maria the box, and led the way forwards into the conservatory.

The warm light of the afternoon sun falling in from an angle lit Callista's ass and Maria found herself captivated by her all over again, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of Callista's buttocks.

If the Goddess existed, surely Callista was her most perfect earthly representative.

She followed her into the conservatory, and the other sisters closed and locked the iron door behind them, leaving them in the slanting afternoon light, dyed green by the broad leaves of the plants in the conservatory.

It was truly hot in here, the air thick with steam and the smell of humid, heat-loving plants, and their slips were rapidly dampened by sweat and steam until the clinging silk highlighted and displayed their skin almost as though they were naked.

Maria would have been embarrassed, but she was too busy staring as Callista led them both deeper in.

Maria very carefully did not point out that if the idea had been to purge lustful thoughts through ritual, this was exactly the wrong way to go about it.

The Statue of the Goddess was made of bronze, gone a deep green after centuries of virdigris, upon a marble pedestal that, judging from the Sacic lettering upon the engraving, must have been a recent addition to the most holy Icon.

Maria gulped, mastered her instincts, and set the box carefully down next to the statue.

"We pray first, then we re-consecrate the Icon." Callista said.

The pedestal was surrounded by a basin filled with black dirt and some thick green moss, and Maria emulated Callista as she knelt before the statue and looked up.

Maria had to swallow a second glib comment that if the idea was to quell lustful thoughts, the Icon really,

really

wasn't helping.

The Goddess was, in fact, depicted as voluptuous as Callista, and thanks to the damp and the (extremely expensive) sheer silk slips they wore, Maria could make the comparison quite easily.

Virta was depicted as standing, arms thrown wide, legs close together, but apart enough to display her most intimate place, a garment in a pile of folded cloth rendered in bronze about her feet.

The most peculiar thing, to Maria's sensibilities, was the rampant male member between Virta's legs, rendered large and imposing, with prominent veins along its length, more a lurid caricature than any realistic member.

The heat in Maria's tummy got hotter at the sight.

Most statues like this had small members, the few she'd seen, though the Central Church of the Gods had made a significant effort to add little fig leaves or other coverings to those old statues to cover their nakedness and not offend the Gods.

Virta's looked like it could impregnate a city.

Maria gulped.

[]

Callista could not help but feel the younger sister of their order staring at her as she knelt before the Icon of Virta.

A hundred years ago, this would have been a ritual involving every sister of the order, and have been as much orgy as ritual.

Now though, it was meant to be private, done by the Madre Primus, alone or with a single, devout sister, with prayer to stave off the arousal brought on by Virta's strength as goddess of fertility.

She bowed her head, and began the prayer that would continue until night fell.

"Call to Virta." She admonished Maria.

"Ask her for strength and purity." she said.

Maria nodded faintly, and they began praying, eyes closed, breath hot in the muggy air of the conservatory.

[]

A ripple of light flowed through the steam in the conservatory, and flowed into the statue, which shifted, a faint gold glow like the light of the setting sun flashing from its eyes as it looked over them.

The neutral expression of the green bronze statue became an indulgent, fond smile as it stared at the two women.

Virta's motherly grin widened into a leer as she drew on her power, the arousal she felt in both of her most devoted acolytes, (in this city anyway), and that very devotion, as they sent their misguided prayers for chastity, and sifted, gently through the minds of both women, seeking their deepest, darkest fantasies.

Her green sharpened as she felt something within Callista, and she turned her power upon Maria, releasing a fraction of it, and setting the match to a tiny bundle of tinder that would, if all went well, ignite the bonfire she was looking for.

She let her grin return to the motherly, indulgent smile she'd worn when she first wore the statue, and in a ripple of shimmering light, she flowed away from the statue, the mist in the air taking on an iridescent quality that would be invisible in the mere candle-light the girls would be working by.

[]

Eyes closed as they were, neither woman noticed as Maria's body began to change. She felt her shift move, peeling off her skin, but ignored it, attributing the sensation to the cooling air in the greenhouse as the sun set.

She failed to notice as she grew shorter. A head shorter than Callista became a head and an inch shorter, and inch by inch, her body shrank, pulling away from the hem of her slip and its collar, as it began to bunch up around her body.

She did notice as, instead of the effort she put into prayer resulting in clearing her mind of salacious fantasy, she found herself instead drifting off target and remembering the dream she'd had, only now, amongst the steam and the smell of greenery, with warm, wet air sat heavy in her lungs and on her sweat-soaked skin, droplets of sweat tracing each of her own curves in sharp sensation, and sitting next to the very vision of temptation she'd been trying to ignore, her dream became sharper and clearer.

Maria reached half of Callista's kneeling height, and shifted on the moss, her pussy dripping as the daydream continued.

Callista too shifted, trying to pray despite the recollection of her own dream flowing through her head.

Her pussy dripped between her legs, and the way her sweat-dampened shift clung to her was distracting.

Maria continued to shrink, her shift piling up around her dwindling body, until it became a pile over her head.

The sun set, the warm light vanishing.

[]

Callista took a breath, eyes opening. She'd failed in her prayer, but the ritual was clear.

She lit the oil lamps they'd brought in the box, and turned to her acolyte.

And stared.

In a pile of damp silk, made transparent by sweat and humidity, knelt a tiny, naked woman.

It was Maria, obviously, the lamplight glittered off her brown hair. That and she'd caught a pretty good look at her body in the slip before she'd begun praying.

A gasp slipped past her lips.

[]

Maria heard a gasp, and opened her eyes. For a moment she was confused, she sat in a strange, cloudy pile of something, the flickering light of an oil lamp shining around her. She glanced towards Callista, and stared.

Callista was a towering figure, lit in a halo of warm light from the lamp, dark skin highlighted by the sheer sacred garment.

She was taller than the largest building in the city, and it took Maria a moment to glance towards the statue to realize that no, it was her who had shrunk.

She glanced back, and saw Callista's immense, dark face, and the expression, highlighted by flickering lamplight reflecting off the planes of her face, was

hungry

. A droplet of drool escaped her luscious lips and fell to the moss cultivated around the statue.

Maria gulped, the heat that had built over the past two hours of 'prayer' becoming a trickle between her legs.

She took a breath, and realized that, in the still air of the greenhouse, she could smell Callista's arousal, and she wanted nothing more than to 'express her devotion.'

The lamplight and the impossibility of the situation lent the whole thing an otherworldly aura and if she tried, Maria could easily convince herself she was dreaming.

And if she was dreaming, then surely acting on these impulses was not a sin.

She stayed on her knees, but crawled out from under her slip, luxuriating in the way the warm, humid air caressed her skin, and then crawled, quite deliberately, for Callista's knees.

Callista shifted as she approached, her thighs spreading, her butt sliding off the back of her legs onto the moss, bringing her pussy down close enough to the ground that, as Maria stood up between thighs as tall to her as her Sister's dorm, she would be able to reach Callista's holy place, which smelled musky and wet to her.

But first, she actually knelt down again, prostrating herself before the Madre Primus, breathing out the benediction often spoken at the induction of a New Madre, calling upon the Goddess Virta to bless the New First Mother and embody herself within her.

[]

Callista was at a loss for what Maria was doing until she prostrated herself in between her legs, and began to speak.

Her voice was almost too quiet to hear, but it was quiet enough in the conservatory that she could, with effort, make out the benediction of embodiment.

It was like Maria was... worshiping

her

as the embodiment of Virta, which at once felt blasphemous, and yet sent a thrill of arousal through her.

She completely missed the shimmer of iridescent mist as it alighted on her shoulders, but the sudden sharpening of her arousal she did notice. Suddenly she forgot her need to push these lustful thoughts away, the need to help Maria do so, everything but the painful erection of her nipples, the drooling from her lower lips, the heat crackling through her.

She breathed out the answering benediction. A promise in old helic to embody the grace and love of the goddess. And she reached out.

[]

Maria looked up as Callista's now immense hand reached for her, its heat, greater even than the heat and humidity of the sacred conservatory, blazing, as her soft hand wrapped around her bare body, skin on skin sending a shock of pleasure through her.

She felt the vertigo of sudden movement as she was brought closer and closer to the shadows between Callista's legs, and the musk flowing from her pussy.

She was deposited before Callista's crotch, and stared up, this close, the lamplight glistened off the folds of her pussy, and Maria found herself stepping forward almost on instinct, reaching out, brushing a hand over the damp lips that loomed as large as the tallest gateway in the compound before her.

She heard a deep moan, felt Callista twitch under her hands, the sound and sensation sending an answering surge of arousal through her, and Maria stepped in closer, struggling to reach higher, close enough to press her naked breasts against Callista's folds, covering her in the sticky, musky fluid coming from her pussy.

[]

Callista gasped as Maria began to touch her, and pressed herself against her pussy.

"Oh, good girl..." She moaned out, and felt the tiny girl shudder where she was pressed against her and redouble her efforts.

"oh, you... liked that..." Callista breathed out.

Maria rubbed up and down, her tiny hands reaching up, almost to the sensitive bud of Callista's clit now pressing out at the top of her pussy.

"More..." she breathed, "Deeper... go deeper Daughter..." she said.

Maria answered Callista's request, pressing her knee up and into Callista's pussy, and then pressing her shoulders in.

She felt herself being spread open by the odd shape Maria's shoulders made as she pressed herself in, the heat of her tiny body and the pressure as she pushed her way in sending surges of pleasure through her with every minute motion Maria made.

"Oh by the Goddess, so good, you're so good, such a good girl..." Callista moaned as Maria pushed herself further in.

[]

The space within Callista's pussy was tighter than Maria had imagined, claustrophobic almost, but wet and slick, and very, very hot. It pressed in on every millimeter of bare skin she pushed past the opening, and she eagerly pressed in further and further to feel that heat and pressure squeezing down on more and more of her naked body.