Try to cleanse yourself of some of the nectar and milk before proceeding

You stagger away from the pool, **** to regain some control over your transformed body. Milk streams from your swollen breasts, each droplet seeming to glow with the same pearlescent quality as the temple's nectar. The golden markings across your abdomen and chest pulse in rhythm with your racing heart.

"I need to get this stuff off me," you gasp, using your hands to try wiping away the sticky combination of milk and nectar coating your skin.

But as your fingers make contact with the mixture, it only seems to spread further, absorbing into your flesh where it touches rather than coming off. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure through your enhanced nerve endings, making your nipples tighten and leak even more profusely.

"The blessing cannot be removed once bestowed," the temple's voice explains with amusement. "It has become part of you."

In frustration, you tear at your soaked tank top, pulling it up and over your head. The fabric catches on your enlarged breasts, sending a shock of sensation through the hypersensitive flesh. When you finally free yourself from the garment, your breasts bounce heavily, spraying milk in an arc before you.

"Oh god," you moan, watching as the milk that spatters on the floor is quickly absorbed by the stone itself, the temple eagerly drinking your offering.

You try using the dry portions of your discarded shirt to wipe your skin, but the nectar has already seeped deep below the surface. The golden markings have become permanent tattoos on your flesh, and your breasts continue producing milk at an alarming rate.

"The vessel attempts to reject what has been freely given," the temple chides. "Such resistance only strengthens the blessing."

As if responding to your futile attempts, your body betrays you further. Your sex throbs with renewed hunger, becoming slick with arousal that mingles with the remnants of nectar between your thighs. The scent of your own desire fills your nostrils, triggering a feedback loop of growing lust that makes your hands shake.

"This is insane," you whisper, looking down at your transformed body. Your breasts have grown dramatically, now heavy and full with milk that won't stop flowing. Your stomach bears intricate golden patterns that pulse with each wave of arousal. Between your legs, your enhanced sex aches with emptiness, your enlarged clit visibly throbbing through your soaked pants.

"The transformation is permanent," the voice confirms. "You carry the temple's blessing wherever you go. The artifact awaits one who has been properly prepared."

Your attempts at cleansing have only intensified your condition. Now topless, your milk-producing breasts exposed to the cool temple air, you feel your arousal climbing to nearly unbearable levels. The dual transformations continue to settle into your body and mind—your breasts will forever produce the sweet, addictive milk of the temple, and your sex will forever crave fulfillment with an intensity that borders on madness.

The doorway ahead still glows invitingly, the path to your objective clear. But as rivulets of milk run down your stomach, following the contours of the golden markings like rivers on a magical map, you understand that retrieving the artifact will be the easy part. Living with what the temple has made you into will be your true challenge.