Or, do I deserve the humiliation I had in store for him?

Tangled in a Trance - Chapter 6: Unveiled in Ecstasy

Chapter: The Unveiling

Her body trembled, slick with oil and sweat, every inch of her skin glistening under the dim light of the antechamber. The orgasm teetered on the brink, a relentless tide swelling within her, threatening to crash over. She fought desperately to hold it at bay, her breath hitching, her muscles tensing as she pressed herself against the heavy wooden door, willing it to stay closed. But the door began to creak open, agonizingly slow, each inch a betrayal of her fading control. Inside, she screamed—a silent, primal wail of horror and ecstasy as the first sliver of light from the auditorium spilled across her naked form.

The congregation waited beyond, their murmurs a low hum of anticipation. As the door widened, her glistening body was revealed, inch by torturous inch, to their eager, reverent gazes. The moment of exposure stretched into eternity—her skin, slick and radiant, caught the light, every curve and contour illuminated. The gasps rippled through the crowd, a collective intake of breath that seemed to suck the air from the room. Her heart pounded, her cheeks flushed a deep, searing crimson, the embarrassment so visceral it felt like a physical weight. The orgasm, held at the edge for so long, surged forward, unstoppable, her body convulsing as she slipped, her hands scrabbling uselessly against the doorframe. The ecstasy was unbearable, a molten wave of pleasure and shame that left her gasping, her body quivering under the weight of a thousand eyes.

The auditorium was vast, its bright lights merciless, casting her in a spotlight that left no part of her hidden. Every nook and cranny of her glistening, convulsing body was laid bare, bathed in light from every angle. The congregation stared in silent reverence, their eyes tracing her from head to toe, front to back, top to bottom, drinking in the indecent beauty of her trembling form. Some whispered prayers, their awe tinged with a strange holiness, as if her exposure was a divine revelation. Others leaned forward, their gazes hungry, relishing the spectacle of her vulnerability.

Two priests stepped forward, their expressions calm but laced with a mischievous glint, a subtle enjoyment of her indecency. Their hands closed around her arms, firm and unyielding, as they began to guide her out into the open auditorium. Her orgasm pulsed harder, her body shuddering with each slow, deliberate step they **** her to take. The priests moved with excruciating slowness, prolonging her exposure, ensuring every eye could feast on her glistening skin, her flushed cheeks, her stammering gasps. She tried to speak, to protest, but her words came out in broken fragments, her voice trembling with embarrassment and the relentless pleasure that wouldn’t cease.

“Look at her blush!” a woman in the front row called, her voice sharp with delight. “She’s practically glowing with shame!”

“So indecent,” a man added, his tone mocking yet reverent. “Every inch of her on display, quivering for us all to see!”

The taunts lashed at her dignity, each word amplifying the orgasm that pulsed through her, higher and higher, a pulsating rhythm that left her breathless. Her body, slick with oil and sweat, gleamed under the lights, every shudder and convulsion a spectacle for the crowd. The priests held her firmly, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to her frantic, humiliated state, their eyes glinting with a quiet amusement as they paraded her down the aisle. The congregation’s gazes followed, ogling her from every direction, their whispers a cacophony of awe and cruelty.

“She’s so embarrassed she can’t even stand straight,” a young man jeered, prompting laughter. “Look at her shake—such a naughty display!”

“An angel in her shame,” an older woman murmured, her voice soft with reverence. “Her beauty laid bare, glistening for us all.”

At the front of the auditorium, the Deacon awaited, his presence commanding, his eyes gleaming with the same mischievous enjoyment as the priests. He stood tall, his calm authority unshaken as he regarded her trembling, convulsing form. The priests positioned her in the center of the stage, the spotlight intensifying, her slick skin reflecting the light like a beacon. She stammered, gasping, her voice barely audible as she tried to explain herself, each word drowned by the relentless waves of pleasure and shame.

“Speak,” the Deacon commanded, his voice steady but tinged with a subtle delight. “Confess your indecency. How did you come to this state in my church?”

“I—I didn’t mean…” she faltered, her body shuddering again, the orgasm surging as the crowd leaned closer. “It was… an accident… my clothes… gone…” Her words broke apart, her cheeks burning hotter, the embarrassment a fire that consumed her as she stood exposed, glistening, and helpless.

The congregation’s reactions swelled, a mix of reverence and sadistic glee. “Kick her out into the streets!” one shouted. “Let her wander naked, stranded with nothing!”

“Call the news!” another suggested, laughing. “Let the world see her indecency in full publicity!”

“Or the cops!” a third voice chimed in. “Let them deal with this naughty child undressing in church!”

“Bend her over!” a man called from the back. “A thorough spanking for such shameful behavior!”

The suggestions grew louder, each one more humiliating than the last, their words slicing into her, amplifying the pulsating ecstasy that refused to relent. Her body convulsed again, her gasps audible in the vast auditorium, her slick skin a canvas for their cruel delight. The Deacon raised a hand, silencing the crowd, his expression calm yet savoring her torment. He paced slowly before her, his deliberation deliberate, drawing out the moment as her body continued to betray her.

“What shall we do with such a display?” he mused aloud, his voice carrying a weight that held the congregation rapt. “A soul so bare, so indecent… what is the Lord’s will?”

The chapter closed with her still held at the front of the auditorium, the priests’ grip firm on her trembling arms, her glistening body convulsing under the relentless spotlight. The congregation’s suggestions echoed, their voices a relentless tide of humiliation and fascination, as the Deacon’s slow deliberation prolonged her exquisite, indecent torment.