Class 1-B worships the Goddess of Shame

It was some time later.

Miss Strappe, still naked and with her panties still on her head, was now cleaning the polished black carvings that adorned the temple walls. With her tongue. She licked the lifesize nude female statues all over, orally caressing their lips, feet, nipples, buttocks, carefully sculpted vulvas. A small crowd of tourists followed her around, inspecting the quality of her work.

She was down on her knees, kissing the bottom of a particularly curvaceous statue, when Charlotte came crawling up behind her. The girls of Class 1-B had been extremely surprised to discover that Miss Strappe wasn’t the only woman to be chosen by Krishna today as a priestess of Lajjita. In fact, the entire class of pert eighteen-year-old British schoolgirls had been selected by the god, and were thus obliged to peel off their school uniforms in the middle of the temple floor and join their headmistress in the dance.

As it happened, all the girls in Class 1-B had purchased daring lacy knickers on a recent trip to Paris. And, in short order, every girl in Class 1-B found herself wearing those knickers on their heads, while otherwise devoid of clothing. Blushes shone on twenty or so pretty schoolgirl faces as pert schoolgirl breasts and bottoms, some pink, some white, some brown, jiggled for the tourists’ cameras. Twenty or so schoolgirl bushes, golden and ginger and chestnut and midnight black, were framed between trembling thighs.

Now, after a long period of dancing naked, singing temple songs, licking statues clean, anointing each other with oil and otherwise worshipping the Goddess of Shame, Charlotte found herself on hands and knees behind her headmistress. Miss Strappe’s pussy, pink and perfect, shaved completely bare and obviously dripping wet, was visible from behind. Charlotte kissed her teacher’s bottom, three times on each cheek, then put her lips to Miss Strappe’s pussy and began to lick.

Florence came crawling up behind Charlotte, unable to control her movements, lips already aimed at Charlotte’s golden bush. The tourists smiled and nudged each other. They could already tell where this was going.

There was a large statue of Lajjita on the lawn in the middle of the temple complex, standing on a pedestal, nude and mortified and larger than life. The **** priestesses were made to form a circle on that lawn, in front of dozens of wide-eyed tour groups, scandalised yet strangely enthralled by the obscene spectacle of this rare new form of Indian religion. Each girl was on her hands and knees, on the soft grass, staring at the bent-over bottom and pussy of the next girl in the chain.

And they had to crawl around and around the statue, alternately kissing the buttocks and licking the pussies of the girl ahead, while having their own buttocks kissed and pussies licked by the girl behind. While all the tourists goggled, and took pictures, and even recorded the event on primitive yet surprisingly effective nineteenth-century video cameras. Florence licked Charlotte’s pussy, and Charlotte licked Miss Strappe’s pussy, and Miss Strappe licked Fiona’s pussy - for Fiona much to her chagrin, had also been dragged into this. And Fiona licked Penny’s pussy.

And round and round the girls went, blushing and nude, caught in the compulsory cunnilingus circle, shivers of **** pleasure rippling through their bare bodies as hot schoolgirl tongues teased their clits and their own tongues obediently lapped at the juicy wetness before them, for every last tourist in India to see.

While, on the top of Mount Meru, the goddess Lajjita danced naked for the entertainment of every living thing in the universe, her embarrassment so hot and fierce and all-consuming that the whole cosmos reverberated with the intensity of her burning shame. And Krishna played his pipes, and watched, and laughed.