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Temple of the torture Goddess — part 9 (f/m)

jmills

TMF Regular
Joined
Feb 24, 2006
Messages
244
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Hello good TMF’ers

Welcome to Part 9 of Temple of the Torture Goddess, the shortest chapter yet!

Our story thus far…

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

Thanks to everyone who has posted a comment, sent me a message, or just given it a read (and I was pleasantly surprised to see one of my older stories [an f/f/ one] recently get a bump, so much thanks for that, too).

But without further ado…

----------------------------------------------------
Temple of the Torture Goddess — Part 9

My encounter with High Priestess Vonda stayed with me as I went about my tasks in the laundry the next day. She had singled me out for some reason, and I didn’t know why. Perhaps it was just something she did, picking out a random slave-apprentice for some special treatment. For all I knew, all the priestesses indulged themselves in that way from time-to-time. Perhaps they all had “favorites,” and it was something no one ever talked about or acknowledged. If that was the case, it didn’t fit in with what I knew about the Order of Zyriss, but then again, there was a lot I didn’t quite understand about this place.

And if High Priestess Vonda had taken a special interest in me for some reason… well, the idea terrified as much as thrilled me. To have the attentions of such a voluptuous beauty was very exciting. But Vonda did something to me, and I had felt it the moment I laid eyes on her at the banquet. I was completely captivated by her, completely in awe, and had the urge to submit to her totally. Scarier still, she seemed to know the effect she had on me, and as she had intimated, seemed to understand me. For someone to have that kind of power over me stirred up a strange brew of feelings; what really unsettled me was that not all of those feeling were unpleasant.

Of course, there was always the possibility that what had happened — the gift she had given me the night of the banquet; the time in her chambers — was just a fleeting fancy of hers that wouldn’t be repeated.

My day in the laundry passed like many others. That night, Mistress Foxy seemed intent on disabusing me of any notion that the special attention I had received the last two nights meant anything at all. Two guards roused me and took me out of my cell to another one that looked exactly the same. While they stripped me and chained my wrists and ankles to the wall, Mistress Foxy entered. “Where am I, mistress?” I said.

Foxy waited until the guards left before speaking. “Our sessions have been interrupted the last two nights. They will be tonight as well.”

“Why, mistress? Have I displeased you in some way?”

“Many of the supplicants who wish to join the Order of Zyriss come to us with some ‘weakness.’ Even if their desire to serve the Goddess is sincere, it can be difficult to overcome something so deeply a part of their nature. Those of us tasked with training these supplicants at the Temple find it is often more effective to indulge their weaknesses from time to time, rather than spend so much effort fighting them outright. For example, what I do to you at the end of our sessions is to curb the lustful impulses and appetites that could be distracting, especially at this stage of your training…”

“Yes, mistress. I’m very grateful. I’ve tried to…”

“Other slave-apprentices have their own ‘weaknesses’ that their mistresses feel the need to indulge every so often. Doing so helps them focus, keeps them from becoming distracted. The slave-apprentices sometimes see this as a reward for their diligence and obedience. As you know, I do not believe in rewards for slave-apprentices, but I understand how under certain circumstances it can be effective, like my treatment of you.”

“It’s been very effective, mistress. I…” Behind Foxy, two figures entered the cell. It took me a few moments to make them out in the dim light. One was the petit blonde trainer I had seen once before, Carrie’s mistress. Like Foxy, she was bare-chested; tight white leggings and short boots completed her outfit. The woman with her was also a blonde, dressed in the silver-grey shorts and halter top of a slave-apprentice.

“Perhaps you remember Mistress Parone,” Foxy went on. “She sometimes sees fit to allow this particular slave-apprentice of hers to tickle someone without the usual strictures by which we train our supplicants. I would not necessarily allow something like that, but Mistress Parone and I see eye-to-eye on so many other things that I trust her judgment. Her devotion to the Goddess is exemplary.”

As I tried to stammer out a protest or a plea, Mistress Foxy stepped up close to me and put her mouth right next to my ear. “It is not my place to question the whims of those among us who are closest to the Goddess,” she whispered. “But you would do well to remember who your true mistress is.”

“But I… you’re my mistress… I know that… I would never… wait, please…” But Mistress Foxy turned and strode out of the room. I pulled at my manacles as the slave-apprentice approached me. She was about the same height as her mistress, though with a slightly fuller frame. Mistress Parone spoke up behind her. “Do as you wish, Kelly,” she said.

“Thank you, Mistress…”

“You’re welcome,” Parone replied. “You’ll remember, of course, that this is not necessarily a gift. I indulge you like this because I expect you to pursue our training with your usual diligence.”

“Yes, Mistress. The Goddess has truly blessed me by giving me such an understanding mistress…”

I tried to steel myself for whatever Kelly was going to do to me, but her sudden assault caught me by surprise. She plunged her hands straight into my underarms, furiously wriggling fingers drilling into my sensitive flesh. Instantly she had me roaring with laughter, thrashing from side-to-side against the wall as I instinctively tried to pull my arms down. "Yaahahahahahahaa!… ahahahahahaa!” Kelly grinned ear-to-ear as she watched my reactions, listened to my uproarious laughter.

Through the noise I was making I heard Mistress Perone talking. It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to me. “Your Mistress and I share many beliefs when it comes to our devotion to the Goddess, including the best way to train a slave-apprentice,” she said. “We both favor a very strict approach. But Kelly was a different kind of girl…”

The slave-apprentice’s fingers had moved from my armpits just a fraction. Still squeezing rapidly, she seemed to be making her slow way down towards my ribs. “…aahahaha!… make her stop!… hahahah!…”

“She has what you’d probably call a cruel streak,” Mistress Perone said. “It’s certainly a useful trait for a devotee of the Goddess, but a true devotee aims to please the Goddess, not herself. When making someone suffer, Kelly would sometimes be consumed with passion, and forget her purpose…”

She was at the top of my rib cage now, her hands spread wide, fingers and thumbs burrowing deep, tickling me with rapid-fire squeezes. I flung my head back, my fists clenched. “…nnaahaahaahaa!… n-no mohhhrrr!… hahaha!…”

Mistress Perone went on: “It was frustrating, because otherwise, she showed so much devotion, so much potential. At first I tried to fight it, to force it down. I punished her when she let her passions run away with her. I whipped her. I tickled her. I let the acolytes torment her… but no matter how I punished her, she couldn’t seem to control herself…”

“…oh gawds!… hahaha!… stahahahpp!… not my ribsss!…ahahahaaa!…

“… but as I said, otherwise she was so obedient, and so eager to devote herself to the Goddess, to learn the ways of our order. And it was obvious to me, by the way Kelly could make her victims sing, that the Goddess had smiled upon her, too. So I asked the Goddess for insight. It was She who let me see that simply letting Kelly indulge herself from time to time made her better able to attend to the teachings of the Goddess.”

Kelly’s pumping hands reached the bottom of my ribs and sank into the more pliant skin around my waist. "…Hahahahahaha! Oh no! No! Hahahahahaha! Oh puhleeheeheeheezz!…”

“Now Kelly is much better at channeling her cruel streak to best serve the Goddess. Though I suspect that ‘weakness’ will always be with her, she is learning to turn it into a strength.”

As Kelly vigorously tickled my waist and stomach, I thrashed in the chains, slamming my butt into the wall behind me. “…waaahaaahaahaa!… not th-therrr!… aaahaahaa!…m-myyykkk herrr staahahahapp!…”

“Yes, she’s quite skilled,” Mistress Perone continued. “Many people have certain spots that are more sensitive than others, but when Kelly gets her hands on them, every spot is their most sensitive spot. Kelly makes them all sing for the Goddess.”

Grinning ear-to-ear, a sparkle in her eye, Kelly tickled her way down my stomach and waist. The ticklish pinches she inflicted on my hips sent me into a frenzy. I roared with laughter, my body arching off the wall, straining at the chains. But when she reached my thighs I really discovered what Mistress Perone had meant when she said Kelly could make any spot on someone’s body their most sensitive spot. My thighs are very ticklish anyway, but when Kelly’s fingers sank into my flesh to begin kneading and squeezing it was like she was pressing directly on all my nerve endings, sending me to new heights of hysteria. Kelly knelt in front of me for better access to my legs. I danced in the chains, each fresh burst of laughter starting off with a shriek.

My reactions seemed to do something to Kelly. I heard her start to groan as she tickled me, pressing up against my leg, one hand slipping up against the back of my leg to clutch my butt, the other hand rapidly squeezing my inner thigh. Low throaty growls came from her as she ground against me.

“Now, Kelly?” I heard Mistress Parone say.

Kelly growled. “Yes, yes, now…”

Parone stepped behind Kelly, brandishing a wand, and slipped it between my tormentor’s legs. A piercing shriek of pleasure burst out of her as her body arched. She collapsed to the floor, curling up and shaking, uttering deep moans. “… ohhh, thank you, Mistress… thank you…”

For maybe a minute the only sounds in the cell were the gasps of Kelly and I as we both recovered. A couple guards entered shortly, carrying Kelly out of the room under instructions from Mistress Parone, who followed them. The guards came back for me a little later, releasing me from my chains. I couldn’t stand, and had to be supported between the two of them as they dragged me back to my cell, where I immediately passed out on my little cot.

-------------------------------------

Part 10 is right here.
 
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This was another good chapter of this series, not sure if you have begun work on the next one yet but could see a fun idea could be something like an emergency that required that vast majority of leadership/mistresses to be gone so with the slave apprentices being mainly unsupervised both Elyse’s and Kelly spirit the main character away for their own amusement.
 
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