The Order of the Sacred Orb

Alice blinked open bleary eyes and found herself on the same soft bed in the Goddess Hold as before. After her dedication in the cathedral, she had collapsed in exhaustion, unaware of the feasting and celebrations going on around her.

As her eyes adjusted to the warm early morning sunlight, she became aware of two things. One, the brushing of her clit and the kneading of her g-spot were still continuing, faintly but incessantly. Her thighs were drenched with her slick, and the sweet musky aroma assaulted her nostrils.

Horrifyingly, she responded to her own pheromones, her cunt clenching weakly and letting out another gush of slick. She moaned in humiliation, unable to cover her face, to touch herself to clean between her legs.

The second realization was that she was not alone. The Mother Resplendent, the Mother Glowing, and three Sisters of the Order were standing in a semicircle, waiting.

"Good morning, little Dove," the Mother Resplendent beamed. The tendrils on her headdress glowed and waved even more than they had yesterday. Was it because of Alice?

Alice opened her mouth to attempt to return the Mother Resplendent's greeting, but all that came out was a pitiful moan.

"Oh, you poor sweet dear," she cooed. "You're absolutely sopping!"

Tears of humiliation welled in Alice's eyes.

Immediately the two Sisters came forward and began stroking her hair and patting her back. "Shhhhhhh," one soothed. "It's a good thing! The essence of your desire is

a sacred gift from the Goddess and must be encouraged to flow."

Alice's face reddened even further as the Sisters each gently took one knee in a hand and spread her open further, her cunt spasming as they did so.

"Oh," the Mother Glowing who had found her softly gasped at the sight. "Mother, look at it! How she throbs and twitches. It's like the neophytes at the end of their summer trials, and only from one night!"

"Yes," the Mother Resplendent agreed with her protégé. "She must be brought to even further heights of rapture."

The words sounded a death knell in Alice's heart. Already, each beat of her heart was echoed in the throb of her erect clitoris, swollen already past the size of a lingonberry, approaching a blueberry. Already, every thought was hazy and swimming with need for something she had never even tasted. It was as if a gathering storm was building in her loins, and she desperately needed to let it loose, or she would die.

Instead, the two sisters each placed two fingers surrounding her little clitoris and

began to gently rub.

Alice's head fell back, caught on one of the Sister's shoulders, and a high-pitched wail came from her mouth, her eyes screwed tightly shut. Still the Sisters rubbed and teased, slowly polishing the taut knot of flesh until a curious dripping sound filled the room.

Strong but delicate fingers brushed her entrance, playing in the copious wetness that trickled from her in a dripping stream. Alice's cunt clenched and gushed. She heard the warm soft chuckle of the Mother Resplendent. "And now, we will drink our fill from the Sacred Fount."

The remaining Sister produced a white velvet pillow and placed it on the ground before the Mother Resplendent. The two Sisters seated on the bed held Alice more firmly, her legs spread obscenely widely now.

The Mother Resplendent knelt and received her sacred communion.

She started with slow, firm licks to the thighs, cleaning the girl of the slick that anointed her. From the moans and the look of bliss on the Mother's face, Alice's nectar tasted literally divine.

By the time she was feasting with abandon in Alice's folds, the two Sisters needed the assistance of the remaining priestesses to hold open the Dove's shaking legs.

The girl didn't resist, nor could she due to the runes, but the overload of pleasure on her nerves caused her legs to spasm and dance.

For no matter how heavenly the Mother's soft tongue felt tracing Alice's delicate folds, or pushing round and round and round her heavy clitoris, or lashing at it as if castigating it for all the world's sins, the pleasure built and built and built in Alice with no hope of release.

She could. Not. Come.

Finally, when her sobs filled the room and her tears wet her face, the Mother Resplendent arose. She was serene, and seemed sated by the mere act of devouring the young woman before her. "This is how we shall pray together at every dawn, Dove," the Mother informed her.

Alice just moaned weakly.

"Bathe her according to the old rites, just as you have practiced," the Mother Resplendent informed the Sisters. "Mother Glowing, observe and ensure every step is followed. Remember, you do not need to fear carelessly spilling her pleasure. Less is not more."

With that ominous reminder, the Mother Resplendent left, and Alice was pulled to her shaking legs and guided toward the bathing chamber.

Her attendants cooed a stream of praise as they brought their helpless captive into a marble chamber filled with steam. An enormous tub was cut into the stone, and it was filled with steaming, deep purple water. It shimmered.

"In you go, little Dove," a sister coaxed, and she found herself being lowered into the water.

As soon as her skin touched the water, pleasure erupted, licking along her skin. Her guttural moan was met with smiles. "Akara powder in the bath will increase your skin's sensitivity, Dove," another Sister explained. "Eventually, the changes become permanent."

Why did her cunt clench at those words?

Every aspect of the bath was designed to turn her into the perfect sacrifice. The shampoo not only made her hair glisten and shimmer, but it made her scalp more sensitive to the gentle tugging pleasure of having her hair played with. The body wash and oils that were massaged into every inch of her skin also increased her sensitivity, stoked her libido, clouded her mind with fog and confusion.

And she was powerless to resist.

"A little more of this one, I think," one sister taunted as she poured more of the arousal-inducing oil into her palm, then began kneading it into the breast closest her, taking great pains to massage it into the pert nipple.

"And she seems too lucid for my taste." More of the sudsing cleanser that fogged her mind was added to the bath water.

They taunted and teased and massaged, but no hands went near her pussy. The runes were silent, too, a rare reprieve from the teasing of her cunt.

Finally, the water was drained. "Now for her oils and lotions."

Hadn't they already massaged her with enough oils to last a lifetime?

They hadn't. There was a raised massage table for her, and they gently lowered her onto it face up and pulled out a tray absolutely covered in an array of gorgeous glass and gemstone bottles.

"We must use each one, little Dove."

It was torturous. Each oil needed to be applied to every inch of her skin, and then specially massaged into her clitoris and nipples with a special brush or cloth. It was done with great ceremony. The Sister applying that specific oil would reach for the brush or the cloth, then dab it onto the implement very gently, holding it aloft and letting the light play on the liquid. "That looks like it will feel amazing," someone would say. "Add a little more." The Sister would, and then, very, very slowly, she would lower the brush or the cloth to the throbbing, erect clitoris they were all fixated on. Alice would hold her breath, watching the brush get closer and closer. It would touch her, and she would gasp at the pleasure, then flinch as she waited to learn what the oil did.

They never told her, and she couldn't ask. Every oil had a slightly different effect, but they all worked together to turn her already desperate body into a throbbing, sobbing mess. The one that was slightly warming hadn't been too difficult to bear, but one of them tickled. She had sobbed before they finished massaging that oil into her skin, and only the power of the runes kept her legs open as the sister massaged a generous amount onto her clit. The horrid tickling had forced a torrent of slick out of her, and the Sister had seen and reapplied, the evil thing.

Every time the slick from her cunt reached her knees, one of the Sisters would gently towel it off, tell her, "Good girl," and rub her clitoris firmly until she gushed again, face hot with humiliation. The slick never seemed to stop, and even though she couldn't control it, the evidence of her arousal was deeply embarrassing to her.

She wanted so badly to close her legs, to hide, but she couldn't. She was trapped in her body as these women teased her to the brink of insanity.

Finally, the last ointment was applied, and Alice was helped into a creamy robe, her hair braided, and jewelled slippers on her feet.

"It is time for breakfast," the Mother Glowing announced. "Do you have the Dove's litter?"

"Yes, Mother," the Sisters chorused, and one drew back a curtain to a little alcove.

Alice's face paled when she beheld what was behind the curtain. It was a birdcage, large enough for a human, made of gold. Inside was a large, sky blue silk cushion.

"The cage is enchanted," the Mother Glowing explained to her as she stroked Alice's face gently. "It will resonate and cause the runes the Goddess gave you to activate more fully. You will never be kept in the cage for long, only when it is time to hear you sing."

Sing? And what did she mean by more fully?

The cage was opened, and Alice was deposited, shaking with fear, on the blue silk cushion.

The cage was closed and locked.

It began to hum, almost like the resonance of a glass played with a wet finger. The cage rose in the air. Alice yelped.

The runes on her abdomen began to glow. The fingers and the brush were back, but this time fast and intentional rather than lazy and teasing. The feathers on her nipples returned as well. Then the feeling of tongues lashing her clitoris, of her vagina being fully filled and stretched, of her ass being gently filled and stretched in a dark, delicious wave of pleasure, assaulted her. Again and again and again the pleasure came, forcing her against the barrier that held back her orgasm, pinning her to it, so close to orgasm that almost no space between coming and not coming remained.

She let out a high, keening wail. She sang.

And trapped on that knife's edge of orgasm, floating in the air, escorted by the priestesses who had just tormented her for over an hour, she was brought through the Goddess Hold to the Great Hall filled with waiting hungry priestesses.