Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. The Offering (f, ritual) By: Beautiful Capture Disclaimer: You must be at least 18 and a legal adult to read this work of fiction. This work contains graphic sexual acts which may be objectionable or illegal. The author disclaims any responsibility concerning the use, possession, distribution, or reproduction of this document. If you read and understood the Disclaimer and are still here, then enjoy the story! -- She knelt down on both knees, arms resting by her sides as she serenely tilted her head up to the vaunted ceiling. The supplicant pose was completed by raising her arms outward and opening her palms to the sky. As her trembling uncertainty waned, she was accepted by the shrine. She did not react to the mass now entering her from below, having some idea of what to expect. The swell of her firm chest rose in time with her breathing as it grew more intense. Perspiration began beading on her smooth skin as she redoubled her efforts to maintain control. The priestess was giving herself to the Temple. Her eyes closed, focused on maintaining the purity of the ritual. The fire within her symbolized a cleansing of the soul, melting away the unwanted pieces of her flesh-- but only if she could maintain her composure. Fire burns all things; without skillful and attentive devotion she could easily be consumed by it. So she staunchly maintained her pose as the mass within her throbbed for the first time, echoing its power to the supplicant. Surprised by the even smoothness at which the volume advanced, she let out a pleasant sigh as her tension drained. The gentle thrust into her flesh slowly reversed and retreated. She feared she had done something wrong and was being rejected. Had she not demonstrated the proper composure? Her fears were assuaged as the mass again pressed into her-- this must be part of the process! But she could not afford to let her thoughts linger on such things, lest she fail to be cleansed by the initiation. Exhaling calmly, she imagined herself a transparent vessel; here only to observe the beauty of an ancient and untarnished ritual but not to interfere with it. She could not allow herself to get in the way of the delicate grace surrounding the scene. It was easier for the detached observer as the mass within her pressed deeper, swelling again. It would be much more difficult to endure if she were not outside herself, watching this stranger try to mask her reaction as the unknown mass pressed insistently into her body. Eyes furrowed, arms trembling, and breath losing regularity; the watchful observer kept track of where the ritual pose needed reinforcement and kept the actor from losing her place. This body- her body- would lose control without her mind to tame it. From a golden chain around her waist hung a thin silk sheet which covered only the space between her legs. Her skin was otherwise bare. She dare not imagine what the extruding mass be made of. Not only would it be blasphemous to ponder the nature of such things, but more importantly, giving into such wanton desires would subvert the purpose of the ritual. The only course was for her to accept what was offered with grace and dignity. Yet that offering was growing bolder. As she opened to fully accept it, the gentle- almost serene- pace that it had set before was growing more urgent. The even sheen of sweat on her impassive body gleamed in the harsh light of the vaunted chamber. As her breathing matched the quickening pace within her- chest heaving with desire- beads of sweat began dripping off her pumping body. Tantalizing bullets of moisture accumulated at her nipples before tumbling to the ground below. She tried to maintain her tranquility but the task grew harder than she had expected. The strength and persistence of the thrusting mass made it impossible to pretend she was outside of her body anymore. Outwardly she appeared stoic and impassive, but inwardly she wished to release her passion in a moment of ecstasy. The throbbing became like a ripple, cycling even quicker than the thrusts. In addition, the thrusting motion now had a slight wobble to it- the motion much too insignificant to be visible outside her body- but she could feel the subtle alternation in pressure from side to side as it drew stronger and stronger reactions from her body. She was losing control! The temple would have her and she would have nothing. She must maintain control! Her face contorted in concentration attempting to keep herself together. Arms falling to her sides, she quickly lifted them back to the proper position, and hoped the other Priestess who was judging her performance would not notice. Gritting her teeth, she arched back to avoid slumping. Her eyes snapped open seeking something to cast her focus on outside of herself. Her audibly labored breathing belied her state, but she hoped she would be granted these graces. Her quivering thighs were ready to give out, but if she collapsed she knew she would be finished! She had tried her hardest yet it still may not be enough! The rippling mass was now thrusting quickly enough that the sliding friction from her natural moisture was creating suction sounds with each thrust and reverse. How could she pretend she was unaffected when she so clearly was? The test showed no signs of diminishing and she knew she would not be able to endure. Instead, she turned her thoughts on how best to mask her failure! It was madness- she could not deceive her judges! But she must at least try- it had become hopeless. She was going to defile the ritual and it was all her fault! Why couldn't she have just held on a little bit longer? Head tilted up, her unseeing eyes glazed over as her last resistance had fallen. Her back arched, and she let out a cry of tormented delight as her voice cracked for the first time since entering the shrine. The pulsing mass rewarded her with rythmic undulations and continued stimulation. She sloughed down to the ground and smiled as she felt the mass continue pounding into her. Face down, chest heaving on the emmaculate floor of the temple, the strain of the test had finally took its toll. She cooed softly then fainted dead away, smiling entranced as the sounds of their coupling continued. -- A beautiful woman in opulent finery awoke the girl. "Arise young Celeste, for you are now among our order. The temple has accepted your offering as a devotee and made you a permanent Priestess." Celeste was given an angel blue gossamer gown. It was beautiful and elegant, nearly transparent. A thin golden tiara cinched the gown together as it was given to the girl. "As a new initiate, you will begin service by attending to the needs of the Temple as we continue to purge your soul. In time, you may spread the word of the Temple. But for now you must recuperate and rest, as I can see you are still flushed with joy. Let me take you to the bath house of the Temple where you will be restored and rejuvinated by your fellow Priestesses!"