Sisterhood of Purity

OldPervert

New member
For her doctoral thesis, Alissa is researching an ancient cult mentioned in some writings she studied.
It is the Sisterhood of Purity, which seems to have disappeared without a trace.

This order, reserved for women only, had as its goal to achieve spiritual enlightenment through sexual abstinence and overcoming desires.
But since sexuality is a fundamental part of human life, it required special techniques to overcome it.
But this secret knowledge of the sisters seems to have been lost over time.

After a long search, she finally finds the former headquarters of the order in an old dilapidated mansion.
Searching the old masonry, she was finally able to enter the hidden temple room after flipping a hidden switch.

She found the room bathed in diffuse sunlight, which only sparsely penetrated through the spiked colored glass dome in the ceiling.
Ancient glittering dust floats in the sparse rays of light.
The floor of the temple is an elaborate mosaic depicting a triangle standing on end.
"Like a woman's pubic hair," comes to her mind and she giggles.

At each apex of the triangle is a statue, each showing a naked woman in obscene positions,
some of whom are touching themselves in various intimate places on their bodies with clear intent.
(Amira Adarah; Emiri Momota; Emma Bugg)?
One standing, one kneeling, and one on all fours.
"1, 2 and 4, makes 7, the mystical number par excellence" Alissa mumbles to herself.
In the center of the triangle is a large stone bowl about waist high on a pedestal, similar to a baptismal font, filled with a dark viscous substance.

Curious, Alissa examines the statues of what she assumes are women frozen in unbridled lust and touches them gently.
A slight excitement rises in her, but suddenly she injures her hand on a sharp edge.
Irritated by the brief pain, she stumbles back to the center of the room and finds her footing on the bowl standing there, dripping some ***** into it.

The substance inside suddenly starts to steam and slowly rotate.
More and more fog condenses from the vapors, spreads in the temple and darkens it even more.
Then it partially condenses into elongated meandering shapes that seem to move slowly through the room and across the floor in search of something.

The statues seem to come to life under the touch of the fog and it looks as if they are slowly continuing with their lustful work.
A low moaning sounds and fills the increasingly dense atmosphere in the room.

Shades of women whispering their most secret erotic fantasies and desires into the bowl emerge.
"This must have been the ritual with which the neophyte women tried to overcome their desires" Alissa concludes, slightly dazed.
"They transferred their indomitable lust into this substance."

In a strange mix of burgeoning fear and curious fascination, Alissa playfully tries to avoid the groping mist,
but its intoxicating scent and increasing sultry warmth act as a mild anesthetic, and her movements become increasingly awkward.

When one of the fog tentacles touches Alissa on her bare arm, it flashes through her like lightning.
A never before experienced arousal flows through her body and overcome by a strong desire, she no longer tries to avoid the groping tentacles.

They now wrap around her arms and legs, forcing her to lie down.
The floor is suddenly no longer a cold stone, but like a soft mattress.
Exploring her body, the tentacles slide under her clothes and strip them off or tear them seemingly effortlessly if they offer too much resistance.
They are moist, slightly slippery and warm, their touch is pleasant and they give off a beguiling smell.

When a tentacle with gentle insistence overcomes the slight resistance of her closed lips and her tongue tastes the sweet irresistible flavor,
she begins to suck on it lustfully.
More and more, the tentacles now focus on her breasts and her now dripping wet pussy.

"Whatever is controlling these things, it seems to know exactly what my body wants. No wonder, since it had listened to dozens, if not hundreds of secret fantasies," were her last clear thoughts, before the archaic ***** of unbridled exstasy melted her mind.

Penetrated in slow thrusts and touched in so many places at the same time gently stroking and tenderly kneading, Alissa writhes uncontrollably with pleasure and is driven from climax to climax.
Just before she finally threatens to lose consciousness, the tentacles slowly withdraw into the mist and dissolve.
Alissa falls asleep on the floor, exhausted.

When she awakens, she is lying on the floor of the temple room fully clothed, just as she found it.
Did this really happen?

She shudders under the intensity of the memory and leaves the room staggering drunkenly as her eyes notice the slight fresh cut on her hand.
 
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