The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Sister? A Church Sister?” Iris asked, lifting her head up

The Sister put a finger to her lips, shuffling closer with an anxious look over her shoulders.

“Yes Youngest,” she mumbled when she was close enough to feel safe.

“Another one of their tricks,” Iris said, glumly.

“If only, daughter,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m also trapped here.”

Iris squinted at the tan face floating in the grey and yellow robes. She was a little nearsighted, and the hospital cell was not well lit. But even so, she could see worry etched on the woman’s face — hardly unusual in the order. More alarming, her robes were wrong. To a casual observer, the Sisters’ outfits would look, well, a bit beyond monastic. they were improbably worn and wrinkled for something a modern order in the prosperous church would wear.

In reality, every fold, every crease, and even what might pass for discolorations to the inexperienced eye was intentional, prepared through the elaborate (although arguably misnamed) Ritual of Mending, where the Sisters would add and remove stitches, dye and bleach, rip and mend their garments to match those of the Original Eldest and First, and her disciples.

Subtle differences in the way the robes lay across their bodies that an outsider might not even notice would let Sister compare ranks at a glance, from the Eldest and First to novitiates. Iris had been educated by the Sisters of the Empyreal Transit, and although she didn’t know the exact details of dress, she could nevertheless tell that this woman’s robe was not properly prepared. It looked not so much worn as old. The weave of the fabric and the way it sat on the woman’s frame were different somehow.

And even more strange, it seemed to shimmer ever so slightly here and there, as if with subtly placed gold and silver threads which were never used in and order outfit she’d ever seen.

Besides, the woman had just called her “Youngest,” a greeting that was only used for initiates — not members of the general public, and certainly not fellow prisoners.

“Prove it,” Iris mumbled. “Prove you’re a sister.”

The sister glanced back again, her face flashing a look of shame.

“I would not risk it.”

Iris’ eyes opened wide, as she reflexively pulled at the restraints, trying to lean forward.

“Closer, please.”

The sister rolled up a chair beside the hospital bed.

“And your name, Sister?”

“We’ve met, Iris. But it’s better you don’t remember,” the Sister said.

“Miss Lorcati?” Iris asked, struggling to keep her voice down. It was traditional for both believers and nonbelievers to use the secular term of address in secular matters.

“Please don’t. I’m not your teacher anymore, Youngest. Nor am I still part of....” she trailed off.

“Just call me Rain,” she finished.

“Rain, if you’re not part of the order anymore, why do you call me Youngest?”

“I never said I left the order.”

Iris’ eyes narrowed. “Going off script?”

Rain sighed. “Force of habit. The order is what we do, Iris, not what we are. And the order does not do this,” she said, gesturing around her.

“I thought it might provide some comfort, maybe? I can’t help you and it breaks my heart, so I thought I might at least try to take your spirit away from this disorder. To somewhere that, I don’t know, makes sense.”

she stood up and turned towards the door, mumbling, “I’m sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! Stay a little longer,” Iris said.

Rain gave her a sad smile, and settled back into a chair.

Iris looked up at the woman. although older, she was still gorgeous. Tall, with a thin build and symmetrical, well-defined features. When Miss Lorcati was her teacher, the rumors were that she had been a model before taking on the Empyreal robes.

If anything, the intervening years had only heightened her beauty, adding a touch of softness and depth to her austere face and trim body. But the woman looked all natural, or at least untouched by their captors. The extreme tastes of the perverse “doctors” would be hard to hide, even under a robe.

“If you’re not with them, then how are you here with me, Rain? And how is your body not... not disfigured?”

“They’re afraid of me, I think. Afraid to touch me, but afraid to let me go. Our current First and Eldest has lived an exceptionally holy life. I believe it’s the work of the Seamstress. She will not let her Sisters be perverted.”

“How fortunate for you,” Iris said, bitterly.

“So far, but it’s not certain. The other possibility is they’re... saving me for something.”

Rain reached out to stroke Iris’ forehead, with a look of pity that made the woman flinch. She pulled back her fingers, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Who are they, really?” Iris asked.

“I’m still figuring that out,” Rain said. “What do you remember?”

“I was part of a study. I have a rare type of sensory processing disorder. My senses seem to shut down once they reach a certain level of intensity. I used to injure myself all the time as a child.”

“I was supposed to get a shot, wait around to watch for side effects and, uh, ‘test and report my responses to touch stimuli.’ The doctor said I’d be home by 2:00.”

The nun looked nervous, scooting closer and lowering her voice.

As if she thought the men must be waiting for information, thought Iris. As if she had not puzzled out just how much they must know.

And the distrust she’d felt for the naive nun quietly drained away.

“And what happened?” Rain asked.

“I got the shot and I woke up here. I don’t know how long, but they must have done at least one operation on me before I came to,” she said, glancing down meaningfully. “How about you?”

“Did they never give you the treatment?” Rain asked, ignoring the question as she put a hand on Iris’ shoulder. The woman hardly flinched this time.

“The thing is, they must have. Everything feels... much more intense than it used to.”

Rain’s fingers gently stroked the front of her shoulder, waiting for Iris to continue.

“But instead of giving me freedom to explore my new body, they keep me like this. I have so many sensations. I almost feel like they’ve implanted something in me to make me feel... like that,” she said.

Rain followed her gaze to where the hospital gown tented over her surgically enhanced breasts and rigid nipples. She ran her hand gently up the woman’s neck.

“You were a beautiful girl when I knew you, and now you’re a beautiful woman. These beasts can’t destroy that,” she said. “It shines through, as it always will.”

She stroked Iris’ forehead as the woman softly cried.

Rain stood by the door, watching Iris quietly. At first, she thought Iris was tossing in her sleep, alternately pulling in and extending her arms and legs. Iris was still bound hand and foot to the hospital bed, but there was more play in the cords than before. Soon, the captive was tossing her head against her arms and pressing her legs together.

In addition to her bonds, the sheet was tied tightly over her naked body, from her feet to just below her armpits. After several minutes, she extend her feet as if she were jumping, dragging her nipples sharply across the fabric of the sheet, and letting out an excited little squeak. She repeated the movement, apparently pleased with the results

Rain cleared her throat.

“Are you uncomfortable Iris?”

“Oh, Rain,” Iris said, a little bashfully. “It’s not what... I mean, it’s not too bad.”

“I can move a little,” she added, bouncing her feet against the bed rail to demonstrate.

“Good. I’m glad you’re at least enjoying your sensations. Being able to stay contented even in suffering is a sign of strong character.”

Iris looked pleased in spite of herself. “I’ll be contented when I escape this mad science lab. But you snuck off before you told me how you got here.”

Rain smiled. “You fell asleep almost as soon as I touched your forehead, and the guards took me away. You’ve been deprived of touch, and your soul cries out for it.”

She put her hand on Iris’s upper arm gently. “Tell me how I can comfort you, please.”

Iris looked like she was going to rebuke Rain. But then the nun’s hand slid under her armpit, gently wrapped around the front of her shoulder.

“You like that? It feels comforting, doesn’t it? I wish I could pick you up and carry you away from here.”

“I’ve had enough being carried off for one lifetime,” Iris said. “Now tell me how you got here before I fall asleep again.”

“Before they brought me here, I was at the hospital in a therapeutic role. We offer religious counseling to the patients who request it. My role is with the psychiatric patients, and those with life-altering conditions. I had just finished working with a patient recovering from spinal surgery, and was reporting for another assignment.”

Rain moved behind the bed and started to massage Iris arms and shoulders.

“And then I was here. Like no time had passed at all. That was three weeks ago tomorrow.”

Iris whimpered.

“Have I hurt you?” Rain asked.

“Huh? No! It’s.... It’s very nice,” Iris said, smiling dreamily as her eyes slowly blinked.

She shook her head, trying to focus. “But you’ve been here for three weeks, and you haven’t figured out who they are?”

“I think they initially took me because of my, umm, looks,” Rain said, with a slight edge of bashfulness she’d never shown as a teacher.

“But something stopped them from experimenting on me. And on top of that, they let me talk to the patients. That’s what makes me think they’re scared of me.”

Iris looked at her skeptically. “I’m positive I saw my doctor from the church hospital walking by on the day I woke up. Even with his face covered, the man is hard to miss.”

“So they’ve infiltrated the church? They must be terrified of our power if they’ve been that brazen,” Rain said, thoughtfully.

“That’s not what I mean. What if we’re still—” Iris gasped as rain grabbed and repositioned her breast. The sensation was almost enough to make her see stars.

“I’m sorry. You looked like you were about to pop out of the sheet, and I was trying to preserve your modesty. And now you’re uneven. Can I just—”

She reached down, gathering both breasts.

“That’s oh- oooh, Rain!” Iris gasped as the nun slowly pressed them together, centering them under the sheet.

“Are they sore from the surgery?”

“A little bit,” she said, struggling for the hundredth time to press her knees together. “Mostly just,” she sighed in defeat., “just sensitive.”

Rain nodded, her face taking a serious expression, her fingers absently pressing into the firm flesh. “So you see it too, then. That the Enemy must have infiltrated the church. They’re carrying off people of virtue and faith like you and me because they fear our power. They fear the judgment of God.”

Iris nodded, tiredly licking her lips. She was vaguely aware that she’d felt something different, but it was gone. Anyway, of all the things that she somehow couldn’t manage to communicate today, her lack of faith wasn’t high on the list.

“Let me pray on this, Sister. God willing, the men won’t be able to prevent my return.”

“Rain, please, before you go.” Iris said, with a pleading look. “Just a little more?”

“May I visit, Iris?” Rain asked,

The young woman was unusually alert, and looking right at her, or so it seemed. But as Rain walked in, Iris’ eyes remained fixed, staring at nothing as a shiver passed through her naked body. It was only when Rain sat down beside the bed that Iris had seemed to notice.

“Oh, hi Miss L,” she’d said. “Sorry, I forgot....”

“Forgot,” she repeated slowly a look of concentration on her face. She shivered again.

“It’s Rain,” she said. “The surgery makes it hard to annunciate. Don’t be self-conscious — I understand you.”

“The doctor told me I have the best blowjob lips he’s ever made. Said it like it was a compliment. I guess I’m supposed to feel grateful—”

Iris eyelids fluttered for a moment, her eyes unfocusing as a light flush spread across her cheeks.

“But I don’t thin it’’s just my lips they’ve been… doing things to. My mind is cloudy. It’s harder to focus every day.”

The older woman stuck out her hand slowly, hesitantly. Iris nodded and closed her eyes as the woman lightly stroked her forehead.

“Does faith make this easier for you?” Iris asked, quietly.

“I’ve been questioning my faith, Iris. When I’m going through it, I can see it is a test of my faith. I can see the hand of God in it. But when an innocent is tested... it’s hard to see.”

She gently brushed a curl off Iris’ forehead.

“I thought I’d lost my faith. I’d rather have lost it,” Iris said her voice more resigned than sad,

The Sister was silent for a long moment, as she gently ran her fingers through the young woman’s hair. Iris’ facial features relaxed, and she sighed, slowly losing herself in the pleasure. Rain lightly ran a knuckle across the corner of her mouth, as if brushing something away. The woman gasped, her tongue flicking against it, seemingly without conscious thought. Rain smiled, gently flicking her finger against the tongue in return.

“Have you heard the story of the first Youngest?”

“Saint Alura?” Iris shook her head free of the hand, looking up with a hint of fire. “That’s supposed to be comforting? You know what the kids used to call her when I went to school? Alura the—“

Rain pressed her finger against the lips, and Iris’ seemed to lose her place, gently licking and sucking the fingertip.

“Blasphemy will only empower your tormentors, Iris. But it is true — most of what you’ve heard. It is part of her story. For many years, she was a woman of easy virtue. There were entire towns where every man and half the women had tasted of her sin. She- Oh, you poor child! This is upsetting you!”

Rain leaned over and kissed her belly, stroking her forehead reassuringly. It didn’t seem to soothe Iris.

“I’m not upset. It’s just—” she swallowed. “Uh, just that I’ve... I really enjoy your touch.”

Her voice got softer. “But Miss, L? I don’t want to be like that.”

After a long moment, Rain started stroking again, Iris surrendered immediately with a sigh.

“In her early life, Saint Alura was the purest of all girls. She was the oldest of five children. Her father died when she was only ten, and her poor mother had to go work as a farm laborer to support the family. Alura took over care of her siblings without complaint. She was known for her beauty, but she was even more brilliant than she was beautiful. But few girls got to go to school back then — especially poor girls like Alura. And once she lost her father, well, all that was over.

“But Alura managed her family resources with such diligence that the family never went hungry. Her mother even managed to save up a little money, and things were looking hopeful for the first time.

“But an evil man — a servant of the one whose name we don’t say — took a liking to Alura. He enchanted her, corrupted her, stole her away from her family, until Alura’s gifts were put in service of Evil.”

Her fingers wandered gently over Iris, the captive purring like a cat.

“Her pure beauty had been perverted to seduction. She was ruled by an all-consuming lust that flowed into all who touched her. Her pure, fine features swelled into a perverse caricature of femininity, and her breasts flowed with the milk of corruption, a single taste of which could damn any man or woman. Painted and adorned in her whorish garb, she could tempt a monk into perdition. Under her corrupter’s orders, she sold her siblings into slavery, forced her mother into a brothel.

“Eventually, her body and soul were so swollen and overripe with evil even that she learned to manipulate even her captors who, like all evil men, were weak-willed and malleable. Then she met a holy man. A church Eunuch and inventor name Celebe. For three days, she struggled to tempt him, but her powers failed due to his faith. And at the end of the third day, she was redeemed.

“God cleansed the corruption from her soul through Celebe. And she finally received true power. The power to comfort the afflicted instead of perverting them. To appease and satisfy the soul instead of the body.”

“So what?” Iris asked. “She washed off the paint and lived in rags as the lowest ranking member of the order like nothing had happened, after she’d helped destroy her own family?”

“Yes and no. She was filled with the light of God, and her powers were turned to good. She lived the rest of her life in a state of religious ecstasy, a thousand times more pleasurable than the profane joys she’d been given.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard a little about her religious ecstasy,” Iris said, smiling sensuously to herself.

The Sister laughed.

“I know, Iris. To the community she looked like she was orgasming practically nonstop. She was eventually burned for it. But her holy emissions were to orgasms as a metropolis is to an ant hill. There is great pleasure in service. Even as... especially as the Youngest and Least.”

Iris’ face looked flushed at the description, her pupils dilating.

“So what?” Iris asked, her voice quiet, vulnerable. “God’s letting them turn me into some kind of perverted sex doll so—” she stifled a moan, “so that I can be a saint?”

“Well, have you noticed any signs? There have many saints in the mold of Alura. Usually, she feels things very keenly,” she said, raking her fingernails gently across Iris’ scalp.

Iris shivered, practically jumping in the bed. “And what,” she gasped, “uh, what else?”

“Well,” she said, cupping her hand across Iris’ chin, so that her index finger happened to rest on her lips. “She takes pleasure in giving and serving. Even when she’s perverted, it persists — if anything it grows into almost a sort of—” with surprising difficulty, she pulled her index finger out of Iris’ mouth, her tongue frantically chasing after it.

“—a sort of compulsion,” she finished.

Iris gasped, struggling to play the last several seconds back in her head. When she got there, she turned her head away in embarrassment for several moments. Finally, she looked up into Rain’s face again

“Go on,” she whispered

“She has... special sensitivities. Sometimes she hears voices and felt sensations that are unusual in her body. Little whispers that she can’t say no to, can’t stop thinking about until she does them. Feelings that she can’t ignore.”

“Yes, Miss L?”

“But there are also cruder manifestations,” she said, looking at Iris somewhat accusingly for the first time. “Like getting all hot and bothered when a doctor tells you you have perfect blowjob lips.”

Iris licked her lips, shuttering. “I can’t help it, Miss… Rain. When I hear it, I just can’t. “

“Try to control yourself a little longer, girl,” the nun said, a little coldly. Iris nodded.

“She is tempted and betrayed by those she trusted for profit, and we know that’s already started,” she said, grabbing Iris’ breasts and jouncing them indignantly. “I’m sure the enemy is planning to make quite a profit with these.”

The girl’s eyes snapped open, then closed, then open again, trying and ultimately failing to stifle a moan.

Rain paused, waiting for the woman to catch her breath.

“And this is the part that worries me most,” Rain said, lowering her voice and leaning over, her mouth to the captive’s cheek.

“For a time, she tempts the virtuous to sin. Doctors, priests, nuns. She throws herself at anyone who tries to help her because she can’t resist the—”

Iris turned her head, catching Rain in a kiss, her soft, pillowy lips and tongue silencing the nun. When the woman pulled away, they were both gasping.

“No,” Rain muttered. “No, it can’t be true.”

“More, please. Just fuck me and fulfill the... the whatever. I need it so bad!”

“I can resist,” Rain said. “I am a Sister of the Empyreal Transit.”

“More,” Iris moaned. “Pinch them, oh please Miss L!”

Iris seemed to notice her hands kneading Rain’s hands, and pulled them off, clasping them together behind her back.

“I can resist for a little while at least. Imagine if you became the next Alura here. Any man in here would be able to do anything he wanted with you. They could pass you around like some plaything.

Iris nodded along, mouthing the word, “yes,” over and over again.

Rain stood up straight, and slapped Iris. “Be strong, child. I may succumb to your temptation, whore, but I will not today!”

She pressed her hand on Iris’ forehead, sparing herself the lost look in the woman’s eyes.

“I don’t know the will of God. But I do know that the greater your depravity, the more exulted your redemption.”

Iris pressed her head foreword, and the sister stroked her hand down her cheek.

“The lower your submission in sin, the higher your triumph in glory.”

She felt a flick of the girl’s tongue against her hand, and gave her a smack. It just earned a moan and a smile.

“Can I call you Miss Lorcati? I think it would provide comfort, like you said the first time.”

The nun’s expression softened.

“Of course, Iris,” she said, stroking her fingers down the captives face, where they met soft lips and the warm breath of a sigh.

“I’m using your title,” she said, planting a playful kiss on the woman’s fingertips, gasping at the strange and overpowering pleasure her captors had taught her body to feel at even this tiny gesture of submission.

The Sister leaned forward, smiling.

“Of course, youngest,” she whispered into Iris’ ear, planting a gentle kiss on the lobe, her hand patiently stroking Iris’ forehead. as the girl’s eyes lost focus.

“Please, Miss L. Not now! You can’t see me like this!”

“Youngest! I was praying that they’d free you, and now your hands are free, praise God! Little by little, God is getting through to our captors.”

Iris burst into tears. She was in a seated position in the medical bed, the backrest tilted at a 45 degree angle. Her ankle restraints had been loosened slightly and moved from the corners of the bed to the side rails, allowing Iris to press her feet against the bed with her knees bent, and move a little more than before. She also had straps at her chest , above and below her ballooning breasts. Her hands were clasped between her knees, her legs shaking and straining against them.

“Be strong, Least. I’ve fortified myself. I will not be tempted by your wanton displays today.”

“Please, Miss L, I....” She looked down at her hands, watching wide eyed as they slowly slid upwards, between her thighs.

“Oh no,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

“What is it, Youngest? Have they hurt you?”

She lightly placed a hand on the girl’s knee. Immediately Iris’ legs slid open, and her hands slid to her crotch, her left hand covering her right from the nun’s view.

“Please, Miss Lorcati,” she said, stretching her left hand out to cover her right. “Don’t look.”

The nun looked up at her face, then back down. The girl squeaked as the nun lifted her left hand and clasped it between hers, but offered no resistance as the two watched the girl’s fingers work slowly in and out.

“I said enough, Youngest.”

“I can’t stop it,” the girl whispered.

“In that case, finish yourself off quick. It will clear your head. Compared to the debased acts you will soon commit, this will be easy for God to forgive.”

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying?” She pressed her fingers deep inside herself with a wide a loud squish, as if to demonstrate. “And there’s something else.”

She spread her knees wider, and the nun looked closer at the trail of lubrication running down the inside of her thighs and pooling on the bed. As if compelled, the ran her fingers through it. She inhaled the scent, and her head swam.

“It works on me too,” Iris whispered. “My own smell makes me want to fuck so hard it hurts. And the more I want to, the stronger it grows.”

Rain took a deep breath. “Let’s attend to your immediate needs. There are things I need to tell you.”

She placed a hand on Iris’ chest. The captive’s breasts had expanded so much that last time Rain had visited Iris’ nipples looked like nickel-sized red circles painted on the surface of beach balls, inside aureoles like pale, painted rings. Whatever treatment the doctors had given her since then had made the nipples start to domes out slightly again. It would take another inch of growth for the nipples to be even vaguely in proportion. She wondered how much more sensitive they could have possibly become.

Deciding to play it safe, she gently ran her finger in a circle, just barely brushing the buds. Alura’s eyes widened and filled with tears like a stricken saint, her body shaking, and effectively making it impossible for the nun to be delicate. Shrugging, she pinched down and twisted.

When Iris came too a few minutes later, she had discovered her first miraculous power. She had had an out of body experience — she was sure of it. She’d felt herself float up from the table and clear through the ceiling, to the edge of a land of pure light. She had not, however, discovered a way to orgasm.

“Every time I get close, it’s like a shock shoots through me. and the pleasure all turns to pain for just long enough to stop me,” she sobbed.

Rain looked into her eyes. The look was not sympathetic. “So this was just to temp and mislead me,” she said quietly.

“No, Miss,” Iris said, horrified. “I thought, maybe with your help I could have relief. Please, just a little more.”

The nun slapped her. “Focus, whore,” she said quietly, her voice shaking with anger.

Iris closed her eyes tightly for a long moment, gasping. When she opened them again, they were clearer. Braver.

“Yes, Miss.”

“I believe your changes will go even beyond Alura’s. They’re not afraid of us after all. They’re trying to force a final confrontation between good and evil with this blasphemous transformation.

“So... why are you here?”

“To stay by your side until one of us betrays the other. I can’t say which. It’s in God’s hands.”

“Will I... be able to have an—” Iris quailed under the reproving look of Rain.

“Will I be able to help you?”

“Resist as long as you can. You’ll have your orgasm and your fall. And God willing, your redemption That’s all the help you can provide.”

She looked distastefully down Iris’ body. Her hand rested on Iris’ lower belly, and the captive was frantically tilting her crotch, trying to fuck the nun’s fingers.

Rain lowered her hand, the tips of her finger brushing Iris’ clit for a moment as she grasped her pubes, yanking menacingly until Iris cried out. She leaned down close to her face.

“I see what you are doing, slut. And I warn you: for every act of depravity, your fall will balloon like your tits. You’ll become ten times as filthy and degraded as you would have been.”

There was a long moment filled only with Iris’ whimpers.

“And that,” whispered the nun, “includes enjoying corrections meant to discipline you, whore.”

Iris closed her eyes, tears beading in the corners.

“Miss,” she said, her voice quivering. “Can I taste you? For luck? Before my fall, I... I need to know how you taste. ”

The nun stared, the look turning into a glare as she slowly, menacingly ran her hand up Iris’ body. Her former student flushed with shame, biting her lip..

“Myself, then. Please? I... Miss, my hands are chained to I can’t reach my face, and I need it, please Miss.”

The nun slapped Iris’ cheek.

“Control yourself, slut, or you will have your final downfall!”

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door as Iris sobbed behind her.

When the captive managed to gather a taste herself off the side of her mouth , she almost cried with joy. She lay there, her mind swimming in her own scent, as something unstoppable lurched into motion inside of her.

“Hi, Miss L!” Iris said in a singsong voice. Her diction had gotten even worse since the last round of oral enhancements, and her intonation was babyish, but what she lacked in vocal precision, she made up in enthusiasm. Her entire body jiggled and shook with it.

“Hello, girl. You look better,” Rain said dryly.

Iris bit her lip, quivering under the nun’s gaze.

“I can move now, Miss,” she said, bouncing out of bed and holding her breasts up for Miss’ inspection.

“I’m even more sensitive than last time, though,” she added, running her fingers over her nipples to demonstrate.

The intensity seemed to surprise Iris herself, and she stumbled into Miss’ arms.

The nun pinched her fingers around a nipple. They were like miniatures of Iris’ breasts now, wide half domes, obscenely oversized.

The girl clenched her legs together and whimpered.

“Quite amusing,” Miss said coolly. “I’m sure they’ll serve you well in your new station.”

“No! I think... I’m free now,” she panted into the nun’s ear. “They said I’d leave with you, Miss.”

“You will, girl. When it’s time.”

Iris tried to raise her head to look into the nun’s eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet the stern, powerful gaze.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she sobbed into the robe.

Miss slowly twisted the captive’s nipple between her fingers. “You’re the Least now. The very lowest,” she said, seeming to savor the words. “Every woman who dirties her hand to touch you will be your mother, your mistress. Your goddess.”

She pinched down. Without understanding why, Iris dropped to her knees.

“Mother, what you said about voices and compulsions? I know. I can hear it. I can’t come until I thank you.”

“For what, girl?”

“For all your help. For helping me become this.” She pressed her face against Rain’s crotch through the robe. “Please. Please, let me thank you.”

“That’s very forward, girl,” The nun said, pushing her back onto her heels. “If you must pollute me with your whore lips, start with my shoe.”

Iris looked up, her red, swollen lips working silently. She was all but naked, barefoot in a ludicrously short skirt and a top tied under her tits that made not even a cursory attempt to cover her nipples or her sex. Bowing her head, She murmured “Yes, Mother,” and scooted forward, pressing her sex into Rain’s shoe.

“Not with your cunt, you stupid slut,” she said. “I meant—”

She paused. “Actually, that’s fine, girl. You may indulge yourself while I arrange things for you,” She tipped up her toe accommodatingly, and grabbed a fist full of Iris’ hair, smiling to herself. A moment later, the door opened and a group of men entered.

“Mommy? It’s them.”

“Quiet, little worm” Rain said, slapping her cheek. “Show your captors how far you’ve come.”

Iris’ jaw dropped open, as she stared up at the nun. Then obediently, she started grinding against the shoe as a small group of men crowded around, smiling malevolently.

“I’ve done the hard work. She knows her place now. Use her, rent out her holes — whatever you need to do to train her. The order will pick her up a year from tomorrow.”

“No problem,” said a looming baritone behind the cowering creature.

“You said that last time. And the last Alura broke in her first year of service.”

“The technology has gotten a lot better since then, and our methods are much more refined.”

Alura moaned and thrust, somehow managing to bury the toe of the the nun’s shoe inside herself as the hand clenched angrily in her hair.

“I hope so. The next one will be your daughter, and after that, your wife.”

The man took a moment to still himself, only a slight tremor showing his anger and fear as the nun pulled Iris’ head beneath her robe.

“Yes Sister. Is she ready to begin her training?”

Rain felt Iris’ tongue tickle her pubic hair where she held her girl, just out of reach.

“Oh yes,” she said, pulling the grateful mouth against her sex.

And tasting her, the new Saint Alura came and came and came.