The Order Of The Sacred Orb Pt 03

Alice was forced to hold her head aloft as she was brought, trembling on the edge of orgasm and posed on a cushion in a human-sized birdcage, into the Great Hall.

All the priestesses of the order stood in their places at their tables. The high table, situated on a raised platform beneath the breathtaking glass mosaic window, hosted the Mothers of the Order, while the Sisters filled the rank and file tables of the Great Hall. The sight of so many headdresses fluttering in drafts of the Hall mesmerized Alice.

Her swollen clitoris was assaulted with phantom brushes and tongues, while her cunt was massaged from every possible angle by the same rune magic that glowed on her lower belly. The phantom feathers that teased her nipples were as maddening as the stroking fingers that plunged in and out of her pink rosebud asshole.

Alice heard herself wailing, crying out in ecstasy, poised on the biggest orgasm of her entire life. She felt the churning energy swirling in her, as if she were a bottle of mineral water shaken up and unopened. She heard, very faintly, the drip, drip, drip of her juices onto the silken cushion.

The Mothers and Sisters were silent as she was brought before the Mother Resplendent's seat. The Mother Glowing and two Sisters took their places as well, but the Mother Resplendent unlocked Alice's cage, ignoring her gasping and moaning, and thumbed the girl's clitoris. Alice's head fell back as a silent scream, a plea for mercy, erupted from her throat, then broke into a hoarse whine as still, she did not come.

"Our Dove is ready for our morning breakfast, and the power of the God and Goddess shine through her. We shall partake."

Before Alice had time to question what that meant, the Mother Resplendent showed her by pulling her from the cage as easily if she were a ragdoll, the runes making the weight of her body negligible, laying her down gently on the empty place at the table to the Mother's right, and then she began to feast.

As she had the previous night, the Mother Resplendent teased apart Alice's labia with her skilled tongue, coaxing the leaves of her sex open with long, languorous strokes. Alice panted and moaned, and the sound echoed in the wide open space. Her face heated and flushed red, but already the priestess was licking her way upwards, teasing her way up to Alice's engorged clitoris. As the Mother Resplendent suckled on Alice's hypersensitive nub, she introduced first one finger, then the other, into Alice's weeping cunt.

Alice had just enough room in her head to ponder how many years of practice the middle-aged Mother had in rubbing a woman's g-spot. Then she was crashing hard against the edge of orgasm, crying out in desperation, unable to even beg.

Finally, the Mother Resplendent ceased her ministrations. She lifted a bite from a plate laden with the bread and honey that was to be Alice's breakfast, and placed it in Alice's open mouth as she panted with need.

As the Dove chewed and swallowed, she couldn't hold back her moan.

That moan served as the dinner-bell, evidently, for every priestess then sat and began to eat.

Alice lay quietly where she was laid. Throughout the breakfast, one by one, the priestesses from the high table would come, passionately eat Alice to the shuddering edge of another tremendous orgasm, place a morsel on her tongue, and bid her to swallow.

When every priestess from the High Table had partaken in their sacred meal, the Sister priestesses from below came, in a haphazard order Alice couldn't begin to track. Her head swam at the sight of so many tempting priestesses, their headdresses undulating and lit with a strange glow, nestled beneath her creamy thighs as they lapped away her arousal, only to tease more of it from her in a glistening flow.

By the tenth priestess, Alice was well and truly straining against the magic that held her fast. She desperately sought to move her hand before the next priestess could take her place. If only her arm would move! Her clit was throbbing, her pussy was empty and dripping, and her nipples almost twitched with each pulse. If she didn't come in the next five seconds, she would die, she knew it!

But no matter how many times she told her arm to move, to bring her hand to her obscenely swollen clit and just rub out a good cum, she couldn't move.

She was weeping as much as her cunt was by the thirteenth priestess.

By the thirtieth and final priestess, Alice was a mess. The runes prevented any friction from harming her, so her pussy was as pink and fresh as when she was carried in, but so much more swollen and drippy that it was scarcely to be believed. She didn't hear the closing prayers, but she did hear when a Mother Glowing softly called out, "Dove," and laid a hand on her shoulder.

She managed to fix her eyes on the Mother's face. "I am Mother Annabeth," the woman said. She was in her 30's with clear green eyes and warm skin. Her mouth was wide and laughing. "As you can see from my headdress, I am a Mother Glowing, the third highest ranking in the Order. Beneath me are the Mothers Luminous, and above me the Mothers Radiant and the Mother Resplendent. I oversee the tending of the Sisters of Ecstasy, all of whom are extremely grateful to you."

Alice vaguely remembered the words of Arax, her god, in the temple on her consecration. She provided the same power as hundreds of Sisters, and their duties were to be greatly relaxed. They would get to come, and she would not.

"We still await the commands from the High Priestess on how to proceed in the wake of your discovery, so all the daily rituals are still in full swing." As the priestess spoke to her, the runes on Alice's pelvis glowed, and she felt the familiar swirling brush on her clit and rubbing of fingers on her gspot, the feathering of her nipples somehow occasionally the most difficult to bear. Just the twitching of the soft feathers on her stiff peaks was enough to make her drip and clench, and to be joined also by the fullness in her ass and pussy and teasing on her clit was too much to bear. She whined.

"Today you will watch, and tomorrow, we will try out all the things that made you the wettest." Mother Annabeth's wolfish smile betrayed how eager she was.

The prayer rooms for the Sisters of Ecstasy only involved the sort of praying that Alice was learning to dread and crave in equal measure. There were five rooms, each filled with ten Sisters of Ecstasy receiving and ten sisters administering the divine Attention.

The Dove walked behind Mother Annabeth, two Sisters of Mercy on either side of her, set apart by the red ribbon at their cuffs. Alice couldn't stop the helpless, wordless little moans and pants that bubbled up from her as they went along.

"The Sisters of Mercy attend the Sisters of Ecstasy in their needs and supervise the administration of the Divine Attention," Mother Annabeth explained as they walked down the corridor. The words sounded like mush in Alice's distracted mind. It was almost impossible to take a step when she felt fingers rubbing her g spot and clitoris every moment and the fullness of her ass reasserted itself with every jostling movement.

They stopped at the threshold of the first room. "Normally, you would be able to hear the muffled pleas for mercy from the hall," Mother Annabeth noted almost casually, as if she were discussing the absence of a particular potted plant, "but they haven't begun today's work just yet."

They entered the room.

There were ten small benches slightly larger than a piano seat, each equipped with four cuffs at the corner. At each bench stood two Sisters of Ecstasy. Some of the sister's white headdresses bore more frothy tentacles than others did. All of the sisters wore the deep blue robes that came up to just below their chin. Through the fog of arousal, Alice dimly noted that each Sister's robe bore different embroidery on the cuffs, all vaguely jellyfish-like in nature.

Alice glanced down at her own attire: a thin, transparent, gauzy robe of white with ribbons and lace at the necks and cuffs, like an obscene nightgown from a period film. Her nipples were visibly throbbing through the shift. The sight mortified her, and she felt herself clench and gush even more on the invisible fingers rubbing her engorged g-spot.

"You may disrobe." As soon as Mother Annabeth gave the order, the Sisters of Ecstasy began undoing the hidden zipper inside their robes, then stepped out of the robes, folded them, and placed them in baskets thoughtfully provided at each station.

Some of the Sisters' hands trembled more than the others'. The trembling hands belonged to the Sisters wearing the headdresses with the fewest tendrils.

"Each pair here forms a sisterhood," Mother Annabeth explained. "Each moon spent at the Order with favorable reports grants a Sister a tendril on her headdress. Six tendrils are required before you may graduate from the giving role to the receiving in a Sisterhood, and only when a little sister becomes available."

Mother Annabeth gestured to a young girl scarcely more than 19 trembling by her table. She only had one tendril on her headdress. "Sister Elizabeth is still learning to say her prayers. When she can recite them properly, she will gain another tendril. She's been with us for three moons now." Her gaze and tone were fond as she spoke about the young Sister's shortcomings.

"Bind your Receiver," she called aloud.

Dutifully, ten young women laid down on their backs on the bench and willingly placed their wrists and ankles in the straps.

"Remember, Sisters, we suffer and pray so the God and Goddess may provide for their people," Mother Annabeth preached. "The agony of unfulfilled desire is our honor and glory to administer and to receive."

Two Sisters of Mercy entered the room with large baskets in their arms. They stopped at each station to provide the unbound Sister with three items: a cloth, a small, blue stoppered bottle, and a stiff white goose feather.

When every station had received their items, one of the Sisters of Mercy stood at the front of the room to address them all. "Prayer 7 today, Sisters. God and Goddess, we rejoice in your gift of pleasure. We humbly beg for more, goddess, more. Older Sisters, apply the contents of the stoppered bottle liberally to your partner, internally and externally. It will create a pleasant warming sensation for them as you rub their g-spot and feather their clitorises. Remember, only rest for a count of 30 when they stop their prayer."

Alice's face flamed scarlet at the idea of watching these other young women endure what she already was. Already she had tuned out the whines and moans from her own mouth as she rocked back in forth on her feet, just a few strokes away from a mind-blowing orgasm, being forced to watch the most erotic thing she had ever seen:

Ten beautiful naked women oiling up the naked and spread pussies of ten more beautiful women, then fingering said oiled-up pussies while feathering their clits.

Soon the air was filled with moaning, breathy prayers and the smell of sex.

Sister Elizabeth was the first to reach her peak and cease her prayers. Her face soon was redder than the coppery curls escaping her headdress, and she bucked her slim hips against the feather and and bit her lip, desperately trying to wrench control of herself during the short reprieve she was granted.

The poor girl was scarcely ready before the whole routine began again, and her prayers were forced to restart. "God and goddess," she prayed in a shaky tone.

"No, back to where you left off, Elizabeth," her partner chided gently. "What word did you say right before you were about to cum?"

Elizabeth whimpered. "More."

The full-breasted young women tormenting Elizabeth smiled. "So your next word is?"

"Goddess," Elizabeth breathed, and the fingers and feather returned their torment. "More. God and Goddess....."

Other girls were pausing and thrashing now, too, and the desperation in the air began to take on a sort of headiness, a thickness to the air that Alice suddenly realized was raw, unfiltered g-power. This was real. This was really how the g-power was generated.

And she would generate this much g-power herself, this five times over, soon enough. The thought of that much erotic suffering threatened to break what little of her mind she still knew she had left.

And then poor, poor Elizabeth lost it. "Please, no more!" she sobbed and begged. "I haven't cum in two moons! I need to cum! I need it! Everybody else got to cum last week."

"And you didn't get to cum with us last week because you still haven't learned your prayers," her tormentor reminded her. "Elizabeth, we're just trying to help you be the best servant of the God and Goddess you can be. I understand the burden is heavy, and you're a sensitive little thing with a very sensitive little clitty. But you can do this. You need to stop fighting: frustration and arousal are your job right now."

Elizabeth sobbed and sniffled, then nodded her head. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'll be good."

"Oh, Lizzy, you don't need to worry about being good. You just need to let go and obey. I know how to help you."

And then Lizzy was shaking her head and begging, but a Sister of Mercy was already slipping a ballgag into her mouth and buckling it behind her head with slim fingers. "You need to pray until the God and Goddess reveal themselves to you," she said with a smile, as if the thought had come to her from the divine. "We'll take you to the prayer closet." Lizzie cried and thrashed, but the bench she was strapped to had wheels that could be locked and unlocked, so all her partner had to do was flip the mechanism and wheel her little charge out the door.