Tour

She didn’t under sell the suite it really was draft. But it had a bed. The cult had taught you long ago that all you need from a room is a place to fuck. The draft was noticeable though…

“I suppose I should endeavor to acquire warm bodies for this bed.” You think aloud as your corrupted sister fidgets behind you. Her unholy tool desires to stack a few bodies on the pile.

“Give me the tour.” You say, done inspecting your new broom closet.

As it happens the temple wasn't a complex set up. There was the atrium, where all the sister's prayed. It had four rooms on either side of it's length which each housed a sister's spartan living quarters. Behind the atrium and alter to Brillah was The Sister Superior's room and office. To the left of the alter was a staircase that led to my little attic room, as well as a kitchen. Outside the kitchen was a storage cellar, which held a tantalizing collection of wines. On the outside of the temple there was a large bath that sat under a sheltered canopy. There a statue of Brillah pour hot water into the pool to cleanse and relax her dedicants. The rest of the grounds were dedicated to a vineyard, it wouldn't do for the goddess of fertility to not demand a little farming from her nuns.

And of course the entire temple was nice and hidden away in out little spot on the hills. Far away from any snitching passing peasants.

You had the futa introduce to the other sisters simply as her advisor, and you gave them all a polite nod, and a hello. You can be grand when you want to, but you didn't want your presence to announce immediate changes. Unfortunately since these girls are also farmers it meant they kept terrible hours. Both dinner and bed time were as the sun set. The wonder of night life was just one more lesson they would have to learn.

You retreat to your attic, and feel the beast on your dick long for the chance to sneak into a chamber or two and have it's way with a screaming nun. You feel these desires but the strangest thing happens, it doesn't harden. You're completely flacid. You grab hold of your squirming dick and give it a few pumps as you imagine tentacles crawling over these deflowered priests, but it's no good. It's limp, flacid, impotent.

"Brilllllllah!" The beast hisses in your mind.

You smirk.

The little goddess is trying to protect her flock, by striking you impotent. That's her right you suppose, as the goddess of fertility.

That certainly complicates things.

Praying to Bidhara probably wouldn't do you any good. There's little chance he'd be able to overpower Brillah on her home turf. Not yet anyway. One day the little goddess would be your lords breeding bitch, and would pay for this affront to his prophet.

For now you would have to bare the greatest insult a follower of Grevakhnu could suffer: Impotency