What Now I Desire Chapter Three - Indoctrination

The path to the village continued to twist and slope downward, the thick jungle gradually giving way to a valley that stretched beneath the moonlit sky. Julie, Trinity, and Candace stumbled forward, their wrists still bound, their captors urging them along with firm tugs on their restraints, but at least their minds had begun to clear, the visions and dark words that had been whispered now seemingly like barely remembered nightmares. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, and the distant sounds of night creatures echoed through the trees.

As they neared the valley floor and the night finally gave way to dawn, the dense foliage parted to reveal something that made all three women slow their steps.

Scattered throughout the valley were the remains of structures that didn’t belong―wreckage from ships, planes, and buildings from vastly different eras of human history. A massive rusting cargo ship lay partially buried in the earth, its hull split open like a cracked egg. Nearby, the weathered fuselage of an old World War II bomber rested at an angle, vines creeping up its sides as if trying to reclaim it. Wooden beams, likely from ancient galleons, jutted out of the ground like skeletal fingers, while stone carvings and totems from unknown civilizations were partially embedded in the soil, their features worn by time.

It wasn’t a town. It wasn’t a village. It was a graveyard of lost history, scavenged and repurposed into something resembling a settlement.

Julie inhaled sharply, turning in place to take it all in. “This… this isn’t possible.”

Candace felt her stomach churn with unease. “Where did all this come from?”

Trinity, who had been mostly silent since the voices had invaded her thoughts, scoffed at the sight, her rebellious spirit flaring, though her voice was tight with anxiety. “It looks like someone dumped a whole museum out here.”

Julie’s sharp eyes darted across the wreckage, her mind racing to make sense of it. “Ancient Rome… Imperial China… Vikings… none of this could possibly be here in the South Pacific.” She turned her gaze toward their captors, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “This is from everywhere. These ruins, these wrecks… they’ve come from all over the world.”

The tall woman leading them turned and smirked. “Smart one, aren’t you? Yes. They come from everywhere.” Then she murmured, “And so do we. Welcome to the Valley of the Ruined, your new home.”

Julie stiffened, glancing at Candace and Trinity. The implications sent a fresh wave of fear crawling up her spine. Just how long had this island been pulling people in? And more importantly―how long had those people been staying?

As they crossed through the remnants of human history, it was evident how alive the valley was with activity, the flickering glow of firelight from open windows casting long shadows over the structures. Rapturous moans could be heard emanating from within. There were roughly fifty buildings in total, each constructed from a patchwork of scavenged materials―corrugated metal from ships, weathered wood from ancient vessels, and crumbling stone from civilizations long forgotten. The pathways between them were lined with torches, their flames swaying in the breeze.

Julie, Trinity, and Candace were led deeper into the village, their wide eyes taking in the disturbing details of life in this strange place, now illuminated by the morning light and the women now going about their day there.

It was immediately evident that a clear hierarchy existed. There were women dressed in sheer fabrics that hid nothing of their feminine charms from view, adorned with beads and necklaces made from bones and shells, who carried themselves with confidence, walking freely among the village’s pathways. All of them bore intricate henna-dyed markings beneath their eyes, swirling patterns that extended toward their temples like creeping vines. They also had some form of tattoo visible on their pelvis beneath the sheer fabric, directly above their crotches. All three of the girls found it disturbingly easy to become fixated on the tattoos, and thus the women’s vaginas, causing most of the women to smirk and wink at them once the girls realized they had been caught staring.

But there were others in the village as well. Women dressed in leather harnesses intentionally fitted to expose their breasts and holes completely, their hands and feet bound in chains. They lacked the pelvic tattoo, and while some sported the same henna markings beneath both of their eyes and had been given sheer fabric to cover their shoulders and hips, others had only a single henna mark beneath their right eye and not a scrap of fabric on them, a stark difference that marked them as lesser. These women worked on small, makeshift farms, tending to crops and herding cows, pigs and chickens within wooden enclosures. Some carried heavy baskets, others knelt in the dirt, plucking weeds or feeding the livestock under the watchful eyes of their overseers.

To the horror of all three girls, they soon got a glimpse of the more unconventional means of “tending” to the animals which the villagers employed. Ahead of them on the dirt road, they watched as two clothed villagers wheeled a wooden apparatus into a crude hut filled with cows. A chained and naked villager was restrained within the apparatus, forced into a prostrated position. Shortly after disappearing from view within the hut, the prisoners were shaken to hear moaning that was a disturbing mix of ecstasy and despair, accompanied by the bellowing of a bull.

Julie’s heart raced as she tried to encourage the other girls to cover their ears with her, but it was a vain effort. She felt a sudden, unwelcome wetness between her own legs, a visceral reaction she couldn’t control. She realized with a start that the same seemed to be happening to Trinity and Candace, their faces blushing deeply despite the looks of shock and disgust they wore.

Julie felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped, looking back to find the tall woman watching her intently. “You’ll learn to appreciate your life here, in time. The union between human and beast is sacred to us, a way of drawing power from the primal forces of this island. Do not mock or revile it.”

By the time they could no longer hear the sounds emanating from the hut, Trinity was so sickened that she paused to vomit up what little of Lilith’s soup remained in her stomach. Candace placed a gentle hand on her back to help steady her friend. Julie was beyond indignant, in part from the strange reaction these sights had awoken in her. “I cannot believe that you all live like this, like- like animals!”

The South Asian woman pulled at Julie’s restraints like a master pulling a naughty puppy to heel. She whispered in her ear, “But what are humans if not animals? Why limit our pleasure to the mundane, when nature provides so much more to pleasure ourselves with?”

“Nature?!” Julie scoffed. “There is nothing natural about this!”

“Give it time. You’ll soon understand that your idea of nature is in fact very far from the raw reality of what nature is.”

As the three captives passed into the center of the village, some of the chained women paused in their work, stealing glances at them. Their expressions were not cruel or mocking, but filled with something far worse―pity.

Candace swallowed hard, her breath hitching in her throat. “They feel sorry for us,” she whispered.

Julie clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. “Because they know what’s coming.”

The group at last reached the heart of the village, where the largest building loomed before them. It was unlike any other structure they had seen. A grand temple, built from the most polished bones of lost civilizations. Massive Greek columns supported its entrance, their once-white marble streaked with age. Islamic mosaic tiles glittered in the firelight, forming intricate patterns across the walls. Arches of Baroque design framed the structure, their golden embellishments dulled by time but no less imposing.

Candace stared at the temple in stunned awe. “It’s… beautiful,” she admitted, even as dread coiled in her stomach.

Trinity scoffed, though her voice wavered. “It’s a nightmare stitched together from a history textbook.”

A set of heavy wooden doors stood open, revealing the dimly lit interior. The women leading them guided them forward without hesitation, past the threshold and into the vast chamber beyond.

At the far end of the temple, an open veranda extended toward the jungle, framed by thick stone pillars. A morning breeze drifted in through the opening, carrying the scent of dew and tropical flowers. But it was not the view that held their attention―it was the altar that stood at the center of the veranda.

A monolithic slab of dark stone, worn smooth by years of use, rose from the ground. Strange symbols were etched into its surface, their meaning lost to time. Thick iron rings were embedded along its edges, and beside it, a bowl of smoldering incense released a faint, sweet-smelling smoke.

Julie’s breath came slow and measured as she took in the scene. “What is this? A sacrificial altar? Is this where you make sacrifices? Will we be sacrifices!?”

The women leading them merely smiled, amused by the questions. The longer they stood there, the more that the air inside the temple seemed to thicken with incense, its cloying sweetness settling into Julie’s throat like a drug meant to dull the senses. Candace, Trinity, and Julie were soon forced to their knees on the cold stone floor, their wrists still bound as their captors stood over them like sentinels.

At the far end of the grand chamber, a woman entered and calmly approached the kneeling women. She was dressed unlike any of the other women they had seen before. She radiated power. A wooden dais covered in furs and feathers was brought forth and set down for the woman in front of the restrained guests.

The South Asian woman spoke, announcing this new arrival, “You kneel in the presence of Sister Jezebel, leader of the Valley of the Ruined.”

Draped in deep crimson robes embroidered with gold, the woman known as Jezebel sat with effortless grace, her gaze cool and assessing. The robes parted, revealing not a stitch of clothing beneath it, her pale, naked skin a match for the marble columns surrounding them. Her features were sharp and striking―high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes of the darkest brown, and full lips painted with a deep shade of wine. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering in the dim light.

She was beautiful in a way that was almost otherworldly, like an icon carved from marble and given life. Her nipples bore golden piercings, two bars from which hung thin chains that linked to another piercing in her navel, and from there down to a fourth piercing in her clitoris―easily visible due to the lack of pubic hair. From this forth adornment hung a small gilded bell, which tinkled whenever the woman shifted her hips.

Despite Jezebel’s beauty, power and raw sexuality, Candace, ever observant, noticed something else―something subtle, but unmistakable. There were faint scars along Jezebel’s hairline and jaw, barely visible beneath her perfect complexion. The precision of them sent a chill through Candace’s spine. They weren’t the scars of battle or accident.

Surgery.

But why?

No one spoke as Jezebel considered the group as a whole for a moment. Then she rose from her seat, stepping forward with the poise of a queen. She moved slowly, deliberately, the fabric of her robes whispering against the stone, the bell tinkling softly between her legs. The other women in the chamber, even the ones who had taken them captive, lowered their heads in reverence as she passed. All except for the tall blonde woman, for whom it was Jezebel who lowered her head.

She stopped just before the kneeling captives, tilting her head as she examined each of them individually in turn.

Trinity, ever defiant, met her gaze with a scowl, her lips curling. Julie, her expression set in stone, refused to look away, her mind already calculating possible ways out of this situation. Candace, despite her fear, found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the strange beauty standing before them.

Jezebel smiled, a seductive, knowing smile. “So, these are our new Innocents.”

Her voice was smooth, low, dripping with amusement, and faintly accented from somewhere Eastern European.

Innocents? Candace wondered. Some form of title?

Jezebel reached out, her fingers grazing along Trinity’s chin, tilting the girl’s face toward the light. Trinity jerked away, but the restraints kept her in place.

“She’s lovely,” Jezebel mused, her eyes gleaming. “Feral, but lovely.”

Trinity bared her teeth like a wild animal. “Don’t touch me.”

Jezebel laughed, an airy, musical sound, as if Trinity’s defiance was nothing more than an entertaining game. Then she moved on to Julie. “And you,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I can tell you don’t submit easily. Your a mother that is used to getting her way, are you not? That’s good. It means you’ll have something to fight for.”

Julie said nothing, her jaw tightening.

Finally, Jezebel knelt before Candace, her eyes searching, measuring. Candace held her breath as the woman’s gaze lingered on her face. Then, to her shock, Jezebel reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Candace’s ear.

“There’s fear in you,” she murmured, “but there’s something else too. Guilt, perhaps?”

Candace flinched, her stomach twisting. How did she―

Jezebel straightened, turning to the gathered women. “They will be marked and given Veivakama once more before being taken to the holding cells to witness and to wait. They must be prepared before their induction.”

Candace’s blood ran cold. Induction?

Julie’s voice snapped like a whip. “We’re not joining your cult.”

Jezebel only smiled, tilting her head slightly. “Oh, but you don’t understand,” she purred. “This is not something you join. This is something you become.”

Several of the women surrounding them tightened their grips on their bindings while others unceremoniously lifted and pulled at their clothing, exposing their most intimate parts. Candace blushed furiously, but felt something in the back of her mind compelling her to look at the vulnerable bodies of her mother and friend.

More women approached, bearing pots of henna dye, brushes and carved sticks to mark Julie, Trinity and Candace beneath their eyes. Jezebel resumed her seat upon the dais, her legs kept spread to reveal the glisten of her pussy lips.

As the guards and other women of the cult touched the trio, their cold, practiced hands gliding over the soft curves of their bodies, it became clear that their intentions were as much to claim ownership as to prepare them. Each brushstroke was a declaration of what they were about to become: the playthings of the Mistress.

Candace felt the warmth of a hand on her inner thigh, moving upward. She gasped when the woman’s thumb grazed her clit, feeling a jolt of electricity. It was unwelcome, but it was impossible to ignore the way her body responded, betraying her fear with a spike of arousal. The woman chuckled, whispering sweet nothings about the delights of the Mistress’ embrace.

Julie’s eyes widened in horror as she felt a guard’s fingers delve into her folds, her body involuntarily shivering at the unsolicited touch. Despite her fiery protests, she couldn’t deny the slickness of her own arousal, and the way her body was reacting to the violation. It was as if she had been taken over by some otherworldly force.

“Do you enjoy seeing your girl caressed before your eyes?” The guard asked Julie. “All mothers deserve to see their daughters in the throes of pleasure, don’t you think?”

Trinity’s teeth gritted as she felt a hand palming one of her breasts. The woman’s rough thumb circled her nipple, and she felt it harden against her will. She was repulsed by the sensation, by the way her body responded, and she spat at her assailant. “I said, don’t fucking touch me!” She was ignored.

“You have been chosen,” Jezebel began, her voice soft but laced with a fervor that sent chills down Candace’s spine. “Though you do not yet understand, you are blessed to be here. To become part of something greater than yourselves. You are no longer daughters, nor mothers, nor individuals lost to the chaos of the outside world.”

Julie scoffed, shifting against her restraints. “I’ll say it again: I don’t know what kind of twisted cult you’re running here, but we’re not interested.”

Jezebel’s smile remained, but her eyes darkened. “You still think you have a choice?” She tilted her head. “You will learn.”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “Yeah? And what exactly are we supposed to learn?”

Jezebel’s smile grew wider. “You will learn to crave the very things that now disgust you. To revel in the darkness that lurks within all of us, yearning to be set free. Like me.”

Her hand slithered down her own body, fingers trailing along her flat stomach before disappearing between her legs. She began to play with herself, the chains hanging from her piercings jingling with every movement. The sight was mesmerizing, and the three captives couldn’t help but watch as she touched herself, her expression one of pure ecstasy.

“Once, I was like you. Innocent. Afraid. Placed in the hands of captors who used me with abandon, experimenting on my body and mind,” Jezebel’s eyes rolled back as she shivered in pleasure at the memory. “But when I came here, I embraced the Mistress. I allowed her to show me the true nature of desire, the power of lust. And in doing so, I cast aside fear and pain. I became… more. And soon, you will too.”

Jezebel’s hand moved faster, her breaths coming quicker. The scent of arousal mingled with the incense in the air, making the situation feel more surreal than ever. “You will learn to love the way it feels when we claim your bodies. When we make you cum. You will become one with us, with her, with the darkness that feeds us all. And then, and only then, will you understand what it means to truly live.”

The woman’s voice grew softer, almost a purr. “You will beg to be filled with the Mistress’s love, to be her vessel. And when you do, your eyes will open to the world as it truly is. A playground for the wicked, the depraved, and the divine. And you will never look back, never long for the boring lives you left behind. You will be reborn as something… more.”

Her fingers worked deftly, her own pleasure clearly visible as her hand moved faster. “You see, we are all just animals in the end. The Mistress merely shows us that there is nothing to fear in our base instincts. In embracing them, we become more than mere humans. We become… like the gods.”

With that, Jezebel leaned back, her orgasm washing over her, a soft moan escaping her lips. The women around her murmured in approval, as if witnessing a sacred rite. The three captives stared in a mix of horror and fascination.

Candace felt something strange stirring inside her, a curiosity about the power Jezebel spoke of, but she quickly squashed it down. This was wrong. They were being violated, used for some twisted purpose she didn’t even begin to understand. Yet, as the hand on her thigh grew bolder, her skin prickling with every caress, she couldn’t help but feel a traitorous thrill of anticipation. What would it be like to lose herself in such pleasure, to become one with this terrifying, all-consuming force?

The hand on her thigh grew more insistent, sliding up to her hip, then around to her belly. The woman leaned in, her breath hot against Candace’s ear. “Let go, little one. Let the Mistress in. You’ll see, it’s not so bad.”

Jezebel’s smile widened to the point of exaggerated glee, her glazed eyes regaining a bit of focus as her orgasm subsided. “The path ahead of you is one of transformation. You will begin as Innocents, trained in the ways of our sisterhood, stripped of the false illusions the world has placed upon you. You will learn obedience, discipline, and the ecstasy that comes with true submission.”

Candace’s stomach twisted. The way Jezebel spoke, her voice rich with reverence, sent warning bells ringing in her mind. The words that the mysterious voice had spoken, the visions that she had seen, were they true?

“Once you have accepted your place,” Jezebel continued, her voice growing more impassioned, “you will be permitted to ascend―to become the Tamed. In this stage of your awakening, you will embrace your new existence, shedding the last remnants of your old selves. You will learn to find pleasure in your devotion, to surrender your will without hesitation.”

Trinity made a disgusted noise. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Jezebel merely chuckled, undeterred. “Only those who have been fully Tamed may finally receive their first great honor―ascension into the Aroused. It is during this sacred ceremony, led by the Handmaiden herself, that you will pledge your eternal servitude to the Mistress. Then and only then will you be free―of your shackles and of the old world you knew.”

Julie’s jaw clenched. “And who, exactly, is the Mistress?”

Jezebel’s expression became almost rapturous, her breath quickening as if the very mention of the name filled her with ecstasy. “She is the reason we are here. The force that binds us together. The will that guides Makaria.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if lost in worship. Then suddenly her displayed pussy convulsed, trickling forth a fountain of her nectar onto the dais and then the floor. She had squirted a second orgasm merely from a thought―a public display of devotion to the Mistress. When Jezebel opened her eyes again, they burned with fanatic intensity. “The Mistress is everything, inside everyone, and everywhere.”

A thick silence briefly settled over the chamber. Julie and Candace were too shocked to respond. But Trinity, ever defiant, gave Jezebel a skeptical look, ignoring the perted display she had just witnessed.

“Okay, hold on―back up a second,” Trinity said. “You keep talking about this Handmaiden. I thought you were the Handmaiden?”

Jezebel laughed, a rich, indulgent sound that sent shivers down Candace’s spine.

“Oh, no, child,” she said, her tone almost pitying. “I am merely a servant of her will―which by extension, is the will of the Mistress.”

The women who bore the henna dye shuffled closer, crouching slightly beside Trinity and the others while Jezebel continued. “The Handmaiden is far too busy attending to the Mistress herself and other matters to waste time training new Innocents. Unless, of course, she takes a… special interest in some of them.”

Trinity glared at her, but Candace saw the flicker of unease in her friend’s eyes. Is that where Rina and the others had been taken?

Jezebel straightened, clapping her hands once. “Enough talk. Your training begins soon. You will now be marked.”

Julie clenched her jaw as rough hands forced her head still, the damp, earthy scent of henna filling her nostrils. She could feel the cold liquid being applied beneath her right eye, the brushstrokes delicate but deliberate, tracing intricate patterns onto her skin.

Trinity thrashed against her restraints. “Get your hands off me!” she snarled, but her captors held her fast, their expressions impassive as they painted the same swirling designs onto her cheek.

Candace, seated between them, remained frozen, her stomach twisting as the cool dye soaked into her skin. The marks felt like a brand, a symbol of ownership―one she had no choice in accepting.

Jezebel stood nearby, watching with satisfaction. “There,” she murmured. “Now you bear the first sign of your place here. You are Innocents.”

As soon as the dye had dried, their tattered, salt-stained clothing was stripped away and replaced with new garments―the same leather harnesses that exposed and accentuated their breasts, ass and groin as those worn by the other Innocents bearing a single henna mark. They were neither elegant nor practical, revealing the most intimate parts of themselves in an openly degrading and sexual way.

Then came the drink.

A wooden bowl, carved with strange symbols, was placed before each of them, filled with a deep red liquid that smelled of fruit and earth, yet carried an acrid undertone.

“Drink,” one of the women ordered.

Trinity sneered. “Like hell.”

Jezebel chuckled. “Ah, such fire. But you’ll find that resistance will only make things… difficult for you.”

Julie’s gaze hardened. “What is it?”

Jezebel knelt beside them, trailing a finger along the rim of one of the bowls. “Veivakama juice. A sacred elixir. It will open your minds to the truths of this island. To the truth of the Mistress. You were fed some before, though this time, you will drink it in its raw and potent state.”

Candace swallowed hard. The way Jezebel spoke sent a ripple of fear through her. The visions she had seen before were horrifying, but that was from a diluted dosage. What would direct exposure to the drug do to them?

Julie exhaled sharply and turned away from the bowl. “You’ll have to force me.”

“As you wish.”

Two women grabbed her by the arms as a third yanked her head back, prying her lips apart. Candace gasped as they tipped the bowl against her mother’s mouth, forcing her to swallow the thick, syrupy liquid.

Julie choked, her body shuddering as the taste hit her tongue, but she had no choice but to drink.

Candace barely had time to react before her own bowl was lifted to her lips. Candace tried to turn her head, but firm hands kept her still, and the moment the liquid passed her lips, a strange warmth spread through her body. It was sickly sweet, even a little bitter, and yet the moment she swallowed, she found herself enjoying the taste. Veivakama was delicious. And then, the world felt… softer. The flickering torches seemed to glow just a little brighter. The sounds of the jungle felt closer, like a whisper in her ear.

She felt dizzy. How could the drug already be affecting them? She looked over at Trinity, who had somehow managed to spill her bowl onto the floor as she thrashed about, resisting the women’s attempts to hold her down.

“Guards! It seems this one is feisty!” Jezebel called, her voice sharp. “More restraints! She must learn her place!”

Two more women rushed in, each with thick, leather straps in their hands. They secured Trinity’s wrists behind her back, then bent her over, forcing her to arch her back. They bound her ankles apart and pushed her face into the cold stone, her ass up in the air, exposing her holes entirely.

The woman who had been groping Trinity before took a step back, her eyes glazed over. She leaned in and whispered in Trinity’s ear. “You will beg for the Veivakama. You will beg for us to touch you, to use you. You will crave it like the air you breathe. It’s only a matter of time. We all refused as you do once. We were all scared and untouched, but now, we live in bliss, in the warm embrace of the Mistress’s will. Just accept the Veivakama―it will be easier if you do.”

“Like hell!” Trinity raged into the stone against her face. “Go fuck yourself, you crazy cunts!”

Jezebel leaned over her, her smile wicked. “You’ve made your choice, Trinity. And now, you shall experience the consequences of your disobedience.”

A guard stepped forward, unclasping and removing the harness on Trinity’s body. She carried a small bowl of what appeared to be coconut oil in her hand. The room swam around Trinity as she struggled to see what was happening. The guard knelt behind her, one hand reaching to part her ass cheeks. Despite her struggles, the woman’s cold, practiced fingers easily found her anus. Trinity felt the first touch of the oil, a gentle but insistent prodding that grew more forceful as the guard’s fingertips slid inside her.

Julie’s eyes were wide, her body shaking with fear and anger as she watched Trinity’s humiliation. “You sick bitches!” she spat, though her voice was slurred by the Veivakama.

Candace’s voice was softer, her eyes glassy from the drug. “Trin…Trin, please…stop fighting them.”

But Trinity’s rage was too strong, fueled by the burning indignity of the foreign substance in her ass. She bucked and thrashed, her muffled protests echoing off the stone walls.

The guard’s voice was cold. “Since you couldn’t swallow your pride, we have to administer the Veivakama another way.”

The sound of something metal clanked as the guard pulled a new device above Trinity’s lubricated cheeks. A funnel, long and thin, which she placed at the entrance to Trinity’s anus. The guard lubricated the device, then with a swift, cruel motion, pushed it into her, the coldness of it making Trinity’s eyes water.

“Please…please, no!” Trinity’s voice was a mix of pain and panic, the fear finally overcoming the rage she had felt, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

Jezebel’s gaze remained on her, the smile never leaving her face. “This is your path now, Trinity. Embrace it, and suffer for it.”

The guard poured the Veivakama into the funnel, and Trinity felt the warm liquid fill her up from the inside out. Her insides felt like they were on fire, and she screamed like she was burning alive, the sound barely muffled by the stone beneath her face.

Julie’s eyes filled with tears, her voice thick with the potent liquid she’d been forced to swallow. “Please…don’t do this to her! Stop!”

Jezebel approached Julie, looked her in the eyes, then leaned down to kiss her on the lips. When she pulled away, she laughed faintly. “Steel yourself, woman. This is merely the beginning.”

When the red liquid began to pour back out of Trinity’s hole, The guard at last removed the funnel, replacing it with a wooden buttplug that she held in her hand, polished to a high shine. It was easily as long and thick as two of Trinity’s fingers, and as the guard pushed it inside her, it forced the drug deeper into Trinity’s body, the pressure growing unbearable.

Trinity felt herself stretching around the intrusion, her body resisting the unyielding wood. The plug pushed deeper still, filling her up, and she couldn’t help but whimper, the pain a stark contrast to the warmth of the Veivakama that seemed to pulse within her. The searing heat had subsided, replaced with a pleasant numbness that had begun to slide up her spine, clouding her mind.

Once the plug was in place, the guard wrapped a new, second harness over Trinity’s hips. This one was different from the first, a chastity harness that completely covered her butt and groin from view. The woman moved swiftly, her hands sure as she fitted the device snuggly around Trinity’s waist and between her legs, the leather cold and unyielding against her skin, preventing the plug from having any possibility of dislodging.

The harness was tightened, the metal clamp pressing into her clit, and she felt a moment of sharp pain before the world grew fuzzy again. The guard then locked the harness with a heavy brass key, the finality of the click resonating through the chamber.

The drug took hold, and the room grew warmer, the air heavier. Trinity began to drool, muttering incoherently.

Jezebel nodded to the guards, who unshackled the three prisoners. “No doubt you feel the effects already,” Jezebel said. “Though they will be doubly potent for Trinity here. It will be good for her, especially in remembering her place.”

The walls of the temple seemed to pulse with a life of their own, the intricate patterns of the mosaics swirling into a kaleidoscope of colors before them.

Candace’s eyes were wide, watching the scene unfold with a mix of horror and fascination. Jezebel was right, the Veivakama was already working its way through her system, making her thoughts swirl and her body feel languid. This time was far worse than when she had eaten some of Lily’s soup.

Julie, her own mind fogged by the drug, was unable to do anything but watch in silent rage as Trinity’s struggles grew weaker. The guard stepped back, and Jezebel took her place, leaning down by Trinity’s glazed and drooling face, her eyes gleaming as she stroked the leather of the harness, the metal digging into Trinity’s skin.

“Now, you will not be able to relieve yourself without permission. And only when the Mistress deems you worthy, will the plug be removed. Until then, you are to remain as you are, a vessel of her will.”

Jezebel stood, looking over her newest recruits. “Take them to the cells,” she ordered. “It is time they meet their fellow Innocents.”