The Bells pealed their rhythm once, twice, thrice over the terraced city of Yvalla, echoing across the valley and lapsing into a whisper as the sound reached the aspirants far below. As the chimes murmured into silence, they began the Walk, tracing the city’s main thoroughfare up and up and up to the temple perched like a bird overlooking the city.
Ishayna, Goddess of Love, Leya thought with a delicious shiver as her steps wound her higher. Her gaze darted to either side as she walked, eyeing the residents lining the street, wondering who would visit her first. That man, perhaps, brawny, hands calloused, forearms knotted with muscle. A farmer, maybe, or dockhand. Her simple scratchy shift rubbed against her body, nude beneath the thin fabric, and she shivered again, imagining his strong arms holding her close as her legs parted for him…
Perhaps her, she wondered, catching a glimpse of a voluptuous, wide-hipped woman. Her nipples stiffened and her skin prickled as she imagined worship with her: burying her head between the woman’s breasts, stroking the swell of her hip, hands sliding down to her warm, wet-
Leya’s thoughts snapped back to her steps, catching herself before she could stumble – to lose her footing would be to lose her chance until the next Walk and who knows how long her Awakening would last. She had to focus…
…Which was the entire reason the crowd was there, a whole city of temptation and distraction for the Aspirants to parade through. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tall young man walking beside her crane his neck, his attention caught by a buxom trio of maidens leaning out of a balcony. They giggled and waved, bouncing enticingly, and he faltered, tripping over one of the ankle high obstacles strewn through the streets. A pair of priests quickly appeared and escorted him away.
One less Aspirant in the Walk.
Leya continued upwards through the city, eyes focusing on the ground and the obstacles. Strewn by the priests, the small stones and bricks were clustered deeper the closer she got to the Temple – and so was the crowd. They pressed shoulder to shoulder, their excitement enhanced by Leya’s Awakening into a palpable wave of arousal.
She staggered, holding in a moan, and did her best to ignore the growing tightness in her groin. Only the most focused of the gifted were admitted as Acolytes to be trained to use their sexual power to serve Ishayna. Only those who could truly balance their lust with devotion made it to the top.
Behind her, she heard the muffled curse of another distracted Aspirant and the measured steps of the priests leading them away.
Leya continued the ascent towards her future.
——-
Somehow, despite her arousal, she made it to the final stairs, the hardest part of the Walk – instead of average citizens, this final stretch was past priests and priestesses, all using their gifts at full strength. She staggered, nearly falling to her knees when she first stepped between them, overwhelmed by the surging wave of desire.
Leya fought to push that maddening lust aside and take the final few steps to the pinnacle, where Ishayna’s high priestess stood waiting. Before her, another Aspirant fell to her knees, arms outstretched entreatingly to one of the handsome priests. The man smiled gently at her, taking her hand and leading her away for private Worship. She had failed the Walk, but all could still serve the Goddess.
Three, then two, then one last step remained – to her gift, the air sizzled with solid desire, cloying at her, caressing her, urging her to just stop, now, and strip naked to indulge in her power. To simply forget the rules, forget the discipline, to let go and revel in the raw joy of her sexuality, freed from restraint, with the whole city as her lovers…
But the task wasn’t done yet. For the blessed among their chosen, the priesthood provided an even greater thrill and holy task. To love the world, she first had to deny it, deny everything, even her deepest, most demanding desires. To join the Temple, she had to put the Goddess first above all.
Thighs slick, legs trembling, skin aflame, she pressed on through the wall of wanton power to claim her place, falling to her knees before the High Priestess to be annointed as an Acolyte of Ishayna. With a slight twist of her wrists and a gentle touch upon her brow, the High Priestess initiated her, laying claim on Ishayna’s behalf to Leya’s innermost power, filled to bursting and fanned into insatiable desire.
Leya bowed her head and gave herself to the Goddess.
Hands helped her rise, steadying her shaky legs and guiding her towards the other awaiting Acolytes. Her skin felt electric with desire, her mind reeling from the hot, heady influence of so much power, but the Walk was not done. As much as she longed to grab the nearest acolyte and rut with them until she passed out from satisfied exhaustion…
With difficulty, Leya focused her thoughts. One more Aspirant remained, a strapping young man struggling up the stairs. Even from this distance, his rippling muscles made his simple tunic bulge – as did something else. His handsome face flushed hotly, turning redder by the moment, but on he pressed. He raised a hand to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing strong forearms tattooed with images from the Saga of Pleasure. His shift was thin enough to show glimpses of his muscular chest and Leya felt a tightening between her thighs. She found herself silently rooting him on as she imagined what practice for Worship would be like with that man as a partner.
As if sensing her desire in particular, the man paused, gaze lifting to find her in the crowd. His stare was piercing and her knees nearly buckled as some invisible surge of power leapt, crackling, through the space between them. Time seemed to stand still and, in that suspended moment, Leya knew she would never be satisfied until that man was inside her.
Rattled by that revelation, she broke off her stare and turned her gaze on the Temple before her. The entrance yawned invitingly before her, decorated with hanging tapestries depicting tantalising erotic scenes – no mere depictions, Leya realized after a moment, as the figures writhed in enchanted ecstasy across the fabric.
“Not yet,” she muttered to herself, refusing to allow her arousal to overwhelm her. She had not entered the Temple yet; to loose her power outside of sacred grounds would break her newly sworn vows and cast aside all she had just accomplished. She clenched her thighs together, pushing down the flush of pleasure and ignoring the hard throb of her sex. Turning back to watch the man, Leya willed herself calm, masking her arousal behind a reserved demeanor.
He rose up another step, finally breaking through to the holy threshold, and she held her breath, desperate to keep herself under control as the High Priestess anointed him. Then the crowd stirred, pressing forwards and swirling around the temple in waves, forming into concentric circles and eddies and knots of concentrated, unfettered excitement.
“The Acolytes have been chosen!” The High Priestess’s voice rang out to a throaty roar of approval and the Bells began to chime their pattern, once, twice, thrice as the Acolytes were herded into the Temple interior on a creating wave of unadulterated pure pleasure.
——-
“You may,” a priest prompted as the immense doors swung shut, and the air abruptly filled with the sounds of sobbing moans, cries of ecstasy and screams of release as the new Acolytes gave in to their needs. Leya reached out as she came, finding another grasping hand – the two blindly crushed their bodies together, strangers each lost in their own moment but together as one, sharing sweat and slickness and raw power as their orgasms gripped them. Together, they collapsed, panting and sighing as their combined need left them trembling.
When Leya’s eyes opened, she realised her partner was the Aspirant – now Acolyte – she had watched on the stairs. Her core tightened and a sudden hunger bloomed again. Desperate for another release, she reached for him, a soft moan slipping from her lips-
“You will retire to your quarters, now,” a priest commanded. “You will touch nobody but yourself until Worship lessons tomorrow at dawn.”
Leya bit back a frustrated groan, wanting to sob, and reluctantly disentangled herself from her impromptu partner. Their eyes met and again she felt that crackling spark of power in his stare.
“Leya,” she whispered as the Acolytes shakily followed the priest to their chambers.
The man gave her a half-smile which made her gut clench and then lowly replied, “Mathieu.”
That seemed enough for now and the two walked in silence with the rest of the Acolytes as the priest led them deeper into the Temple. Magnificent, enormous columns lined a maze of ornate corridors and Leya tried her best to focus on the layout. She had only ever been here before as a Penitent for Worship and had not realised how truly vast the complex was. It took time to cover the distance to her dormitory, her anxiety building by the minute. She needed another release of her power…
And Mathieu wasn’t helping.
His gaze constantly drifted to linger on her, far too long, his fingertips a scant whisper away from brushing her thigh. She found herself desperately turned on by his rebellious dance along the edge of their vows.
Dangerous, she mentally cautioned herself. The Goddess is worth far more than one lover…
But even her devotion couldn’t fully quell the urgent need she felt being so close to him. It built, gnawing, till she was gasping for breath, every fibre in her body screaming for release. She wanted him, craved him, and she lifted a hand-
“Quarters,” the priest proclaimed as the group rounded a corner at the end of a long corridor. Beyond lay a large, lavish chamber furnished with velvet chaises, low wooden tables and brocade tapestries. Strategically placed lanterns created a dim, seductive glow against the glint of gold and scarlet, the colours of the Goddess. Doors ringed the room, leading to individual apartments, while a hallway at the far end of the chamber opened into large communal baths.
She almost gasped as she sank onto the first settee and tried to hide her reaction as other Acolytes settled beside her. Some leaned back and began pleasuring themselves right then and there, unable to wait a moment longer for release, while others drifted to the edges of the chamber to claim their rooms. Leya sat for a moment, overwhelmed, and simply watched as others touched themselves, before the sight inflamed her own desire even more – quickly rising, she practically ran to the closest apartment, desperate to plunge her hands between her own thighs.
It was empty, apparently unclaimed, and she threw herself into the bed, her shift peeled off and discarded on the floor. Her fingers skimmed her body, tracing her curves and her nipples hardened into stuff peaks, and then her hands reached lower. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she began to stroke her clit, forcing herself to ride through the mounting pressure. As her orgasm built, she slowly exhaled, delaying the inevitable release as her power grew. But even as the pleasure peaked, Leya remembered. The Goddess was waiting. She hung there on the brink, feeling the rush as her power pushed to new heights, and then finally gave in to her needs, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over her.
“In Ishayna’s name,” she panted, sated…for now.
“Quite the performance,” a deep voice chuckled, more than a measure of admiration in the tone. Leya’s eyes wrenched open and she looked to the doorway. Framed there was Mathieu, his muscular physique backlit by the warm glow from the common room. His presence sent another shockwave through her already pliant body, and the image of his bare chest, framed in shadow, pulled her thoughts away from pleasurable post-orgasmic oblivion.
“What-”
He stepped into the room and Leya realised he was nude and glistening. She also realised she did not mind the view at all.
“I had thought to use this room,” Mathieu explained with a grin, running a hand through his wet hair. “But it seems it’s been stolen and marked as your territory while I was bathing.”
Leya blushed, but the gentle teasing in his tone emboldened her to flirt back.
“We could share,” she offered with a coy smile and had the satisfaction of seeing a faint blush on his cheeks. His gaze hungrily roved over her nude body like a parched man craving water and he let out a frustrated growl which shifted to a rueful laugh.
“Bit too early to be breaking my vows,” he said. “But give it time, and I might…” His words trailed off and he licked his lips in anticipation. She didn’t miss the flutter of his pulse against his neck as he approached her, nor the hungry look in his gaze. Without further warning, he bent down, planting one hand on either side of her body, and lowered himself until he was a handswidth above her. She shivered, skin prickling and felt a growing ache between her thighs in spite of her recent orgasm.
Their lips nearly touching, Mathieu slowly, softly whispered, “See you at Worship training.”
And with that, he pushed away from the bed and was gone, leaving Leya even more flustered and turned on that before. Cursing to herself, she settled in for another round of self-pleasure, desperately hoping it was enough to distract her from the thought of him. With frustration, she realised it was going to be a long, hard, lonely night.
——–
Dawn couldn’t come soon enough and Leya rose from a restful sleep to quickly prepare for training. After a quick dip in the baths, she returned to her apartment and explored it in the nude, her head finally clear enough to pay attention to details beyond the needs of her own body. Beside the bed, there was an ornate mirror, and she paused for a moment to study herself, admiring her own swell of breast and curve of hips. Her skin began to flush at the thought of someone else’s hands tracing along her skin and she quickly glanced away to continue her search of the room. Eventually she discovered a nook of a closet hidden behind a tapestry and, in it, a set of Acolyte robes. She slipped into one and glanced at her reflection, surprised by the result. Loose fitting, sleeveless and cinched at the waist with a simple cord, the garment was somehow alluringly shapeless, sketching out teasing hints of the body beneath while revealing almost nothing.
She wondered how Mathieu would react – sometimes seeing nothing was more erotic than seeing everything – and quickly rushed out of her apartment, joining the other Acolytes in the common room. The musky aura of lust hung in the air, each person’s power feeding into the others, and Leya began to squirm in her seat and clench her thighs together, awakening her arousal.
Fortunately for the sake of their vows, a priestess arrived before any of the Acolytes could act on their urges, and the group found themselves ushered along another labyrinthine passage through the Temple until they arrived in a lavish, long, low-ceilinged hall, hung with erotic tapestries. Cushions were strewn throughout the area and the priestess gestured for the Acolytes to make themselves comfortable.
Leya settled in a spot near the back of the gathering, using the space for an idle stretch and to scan the scene around her – Mathieu, she noticed, seated himself nearby. A small fire burned cheerfully in a brazier nearby, lending a pleasant warmth and glinting off the toned muscles and smooth skin of the Acolytes. Leya found her attention drifting over to Mathieu, admiring how the low light highlighted his form, but quickly snapped her attention to the front of the hall as the priestess clapped her hands together once, twice, thrice, demanding silence.
“Why do we Worship?”
The question hung in the air. It was what had driven every one of the Acolytes to this hall, yet all seemed afraid to voice the impetus aloud. Perhaps it would break some spell and they’d find themselves back home again, frustrated and powerless in their own lonely beds.
“Why do we Worship?” the priestess asked again. She was a tall, slender woman of indeterminate age, but her stare was piercing as she gazed across the hall.
For the third time, her tone patient yet authoritative, she once more asked, “Why do we Worship?”
“Because life is full of loss,” one of the women finally spoke up. Leya craned her neck to see who had spoken, surprised to find it was the oldest member of the group. Her hair was a close-cropped silver and her face was lined with wrinkles like a parched riverbed. The Awakening comes late in life to some, Leya knew, and found herself grateful to be experiencing hers so early, as a young adult, before she felt a stab of uncertainty. Perhaps she was too young, unprepared for the rigors of training and devotion to the vows…
The priestess nodded at the woman to continue.
“Life is full of loss,” the old woman repeated. “This makes it valuable and precious, and Worship celebrates that.”
The priestess nodded in approval, her stare shifting to gaze upon another Acolyte, a gangly young man. Her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“B-b-because it strengthens Her,” a timid voice responded hesitantly. Another nod from the priestess and the man hurried on, reciting from the Saga, “…and so Her priests give their bodies to the Penitents, to build Her glory ever higher.”
“Good,” the priestess said, before staring directly at Leya. That mounting tension she had come to know so well returned as she felt a rush of blood to her loins when she met the woman’s gaze. Electric and arresting, just as strong as her reaction to Mathieu, and without power even aroused – or perhaps the priests and priestesses always had it ready, lust kept at a constant simmer to tap into as desired. An image danced through Leya’s mind of herself coupling with the woman, her tongue tracing circles around the priestess’s nipples as she straddled her, pressing her wet sex against-
She was waiting for an answer. Leya flushed and quickly thought about what had brought her here, doing her best to push aside daydreams of pleasuring the priestess, of cupping her breasts-
“To…umm…”
-gripping her hips-
“…cultivate my Awakening…”
-her fingers slipping into the woman’s wet folds-
“…and strengthen my power…”
-the scream of pleasure as she tightened around her-
“…to help, umm, the world…”
Leya trailed off, flushing from her own thoughts. A sly smile slowly curved the priestess’s lips as she held Leya’s gaze, and Leya found herself even more flustered, wondering if mind-reading was something one could achieve with enough power.
She wasn’t sure if she feared or welcomed the woman witnessing, but before she could ascertain her own feelings, the priestess was addressing the entire room again and Leya felt curiously empty as the woman’s powerful gaze roved away from her.
“We Worship for all these reasons and more,” the priestess said, voice ringing through the hall. “We provide succor and bliss and comfort to the masses. We strengthen our own power and through that we make Our Lady Ishayna stronger. Through Her strength and the strength of Her Priesthood, the world thrives. And so we Worship, in Ishayna’s name.”
“In Ishayna’s name,” the Acolytes dutifully repeated in unison, their voices fading into soft echoes.
The priestess gave her hands a clap, her tone turning brisk and instructive.
“We begin with paired lovemaking. Find a partner and explore their bodies. Observe how they feel, how you feel, and how your power feels.”
Leya and Mathieu’s eyes met. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the ravenous edge to his stare.
“And do not give in to your urge,” the priestess cautioned. “If you climax before I give the command, consider your vows broken. Acolytes must learn balance and restraint before they can summon and unleash true power.”
An anxious note of fear edged Leya’s lust at the woman’s warning. Perhaps another partner would be safer…
But Mathieu was already there, wrapping his arm around Leya as he drew her down onto the cushions. Her body responded to his lead, pliant and willing and warm against his. She groaned as his mouth covered hers. He growled and kissed her deeper, tongue probing her lips for entry, but she held him off, wary of too much, too quickly. She had to remain in control.
She broke off the kiss to nibble at his earlobe instead, eliciting a gasp from Mathieu as he pulled her hip closer to him, one hand sliding up her thigh beneath her robe. Leya felt her body awakening in fiery arousal. Their lips met again and this time hers parted, inviting his tongue to slide inside; he repaid her for her earlier coyness with a teasing, thrusting rhythm in his kiss, his mouth promising things that filled Leya’s senses with only one thing: More.
He finally relinquished her to tear at the belt of her robe, pulling it off and throwing it into the cushions, before sliding her robe up her thighs, over her hips, past her aching breasts and off her shoulders. She wriggled the rest of the way out of the garment and found Mathieu stripped naked, his toned chest and strong arms balanced by muscled thighs – and between them, a growing erection.
Panting, they stared into each other’s eyes, and that electric spark hummed between them again, the air crackling with their mingled power. One of Mathieu’s hands reached for her breast, gentle and deliberate as he caressed her swollen nipple with a thumb. Leya sucked in a breath and let her hands follow his, running them across his chest, arms, waist, thighs. His muscled abdomen moved against her fingertips as he leaned forward, planting featherlight kisses along her jawline.
Leya lost track of her own desires. She wanted to please him, to make him want her, to open him to pleasure and feeling – and oh Goddess, did she want to feel him. Everything about his body made her ache with want.
He squeezed her nipple.
She gasped.
He pinched it harder.
Her toes curled.
It was a delicious hint of pain, hazed by desire, drawing a moan from her lips and causing her legs to buckle. Mathieu’s arm tightened, lifting her slightly, supporting her weight as he urged her down onto the cushions, positioning himself between her spread legs as his hands slid down her body to her hips.
His weight settled atop her, solid muscle, sweat, scent and man.
And she ached for it, deep within, yearning for his touch. Her nails raked lightly over his back and then trailed down his sides, before resting her hands on his chest.
“We can’t…” she whispered.
You can! her body screamed.
“Our vows…” he agreed.
Our bodies! his hard cock argued, pressing against her thighs.
She shivered beneath his touch, legs slowly spreading, coaxed open by her wanton desire, the temptation of his body. Her power swirled high, building to release. Their lips met again.
“Excellent work, Acolytes! Continue your practice – and remember, do not climax until I command you to release your power.”
Leya had forgotten about the Priestess, the hall, the other Acolytes and broke off the kiss in stunned surprise to look up at the woman as she paced towards them.
“Continue,” the woman instructed and Mathieu eagerly buried his face between Leya’s breasts, fondling them between gentle nips and nibbles. His other hand slid up her thigh and she shivered at the light touch.
He didn’t seem bothered by the priestess’ presence at all. In fact, Leya thought he seemed almost delighted by it, now grinning up at the woman as he teased Leya, his fingers tracing higher and higher towards her wet folds-
“Watch,” the priestess instructed Mathieu and to Leya’s shock (and surprised excitement) the woman sunk down to her knees beside her. Mathieu sat back on his heels, grin widening as Leya let out a gasp when the woman’s hand delicately caressed her. A single stroke from those experienced fingers was nearly enough to send her over the edge and Leya did her best to focus on controlling her power.
The priestess seemed amused and lengthened her strokes, circling Leya’s breasts before delving between her thighs. Her fingers grazed Leya’s wet folds, a caress too quick to register properly, but still- Leya whimpered. If only she were allowed to climax!
She opened her legs wider, giving the woman better access to her slick entrance, and she gasped when she felt the first glint of the woman’s tongue sliding against her slit, swirling teasing circles, as though testing the waters before tasting. And then, simultaneously, a nip at her nipple as Mathieu joined in the delicious torment.
The room buzzed around her, spinning faster and faster as she thrashed under the couple’s combined attention, tugging at her nerves and her control, making her lose herself, wanting everything they offered, drowning in need.
And her power grew, the force of it thickening the air with urgent arousal.
She panted, moans and gasps issuing from her lips, and then whined as the priestess pulled away, leaving her wet and throbbing with need.
“Now,” the priestess loudly declared to the room. “Unleash your power.”
Mathieu let out a satisfied growl, practically tackling Leya who eagerly spread her legs, drawing him into her with a low moan as she felt herself satisfyingly stretched. Almost immediately she began to climax, back arching and hips bucking, as he thrust into her with urgent need.
And then she felt lips on her breast.
It was the priestess, spurring her on, murmuring encouragement to push for more, her teeth grazing against Leya’s stiff nipples with every whisper.
Leya rode the wave of pleasure and struggled to control it, building from one orgasm to the next. Around the threesome, the hall began to haze with sheer, concentrated lust as Acolytes unleashed their power and the sounds of satisfied moans and ecstatic whimpers filled the air.
Leya screamed for more.
Mathieu obliged, thrusting faster and deeper and Leya felt herself spiralling upwards as she chained climaxes, each burst of pleasure feeding into the next and enhancing her power.
Mathieu grunted and plunged himself in deep, holding Leya tight, while the priestess nipped at her breast.
Almost there.
Almost release.
Almost power.
“Release,” the priestess commanded in a husky whisper and then Leya wailed, mind blanking as she gave in to a final, shattering climax, waves of power rolling off her in a series of earthshaking bursts of pure ecstasy. Inside her, she felt the heat and quivering as Mathieu came, their flashes of power melding together in an overwhelming force. Soft moans echoed through the room as it reached the other Acolytes, and a few faint tendrils of power reflected back to her, rumbling aftershocks of pleasure in response to their own.
Then it was gone, leaching away in sweet little trills and pulses as the Acolytes sank exhausted into the ground, their forms fluttering like dead leaves.
“In Ishayna’s name!” The priestess led the cry, and tiredly the spent Acolytes joined in, devoting their pleasure to their Goddess.
Leya slumped forward onto Mathieu’s shoulder, purring contentedly, eyelids fluttering closed, feeling as close to sated as she ever had been in her life. He held her tight, pressing his lips to hers in tender appreciation.
Beside her, the priestess had risen and was clapping her hands for attention.
“This ends today’s Practice,” she declared. “You are dismissed – but remember your vow: outside of this hall, no hands shall touch your body save your own.”
Leya and Mathieu’s eyes met in another electric gaze and, despite her weariness, Laya felt a burning between her thighs that made her suspect that, despite the release training provided, keeping her vows would be easier said than done with Mathieu around…
—–
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Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12fprye/body_of_worship_embracing_being_used_for_my