Well worn path.

The tiny passage looks more like a natural formation than any traveled path, it probably dead ended somewhere in the bowels of the earth. You continue on the well worn path, moving quickly but not without caution. You are reassured you took the right path when you hear noises up ahead. Human noises.

Though not the ones you wanted to hear. You flinch as the sounds of moans and gasping breaths resurrect the buried memories of the White Rock abbey's fall. Peering fearfully around a corner you are treated to a sight that both horrifies and, to your despair, excites you.

The passage opens up into a large but flat room, clearly chiseled from whatever had come before, possibly by the hands of demons, based on the scoring of claws on the walls. It is filled with firmly wrought wooden stocks aligned in rows that flank the center of the room. There must be over 30 of them and nearly all of them were filled with sisters you recognized from the Abbey above, faces with expressions ranging from blankly smiling to screwed up in pain. Or maybe passion.

Behind the stocks milled, milled, dozens of squabbling imps. You gawk at the sight, shrinking back fearfully, but none of the imps enter the center area. Almost like there's an invisible wall keeping them behind the stocks. Every imp in attendance is either fighting with another imp or pumping into some poor girl. The room reeks of demon semen and corruption, making your body react unwillingly. Beads of moisture slide between your thighs and you wish you'd taken the time to put on underwear.

The pulsing arousal of the room makes you sway and for a brief moment you almost walk forward into the orgy. You steady yourself and whisper a prayer to your deity. You are completely unprepared when the lust not only remains but seems to double over as you re-establish your connection to The Rose, making your quim contract viscously on itself and drawing out a guttural moan to join the cacophony in the room. You try to walk forward, to give yourself over to the boundless desire, but something tangible holds you back. Like a ghostly hand on your chest.

Please... don't...

The Rose sounds pained, almost strangled, and it shocks you from your arousal fueled reverie enough to step out of view of the debauchery. The lust remains however, and you realize with painful clarity what happened: The second wave of arousal came from the goddess.

"What... what kind of... how are..." You feel betrayed, sick and disgusted by yourself and your deity. You notice dimly that the emotions are mirrored back to you, along with a continuing sensation of arousal.

Look... again... watchful...

The words are faint and you debate whether to obey them but after a moment of psyching yourself up, you peer once more around the corner, willfully repressing your bond with The Rose. The lust you feel at the sight of so many beautiful sisters being fucked in twin rows is powerful and purely your own. Ignoring the sinful thoughts that shroud your mind, you peer closer at the room:

The walls extend back behind the fucking on either side of the central path and you can dimly make out two large shapes moving slowly behind the swarm of imps. They are engulfed in shadow but you see them swatting at the largest groups of imps, dispersing brawls as they threaten to break out, "Some kind of overseers?"

At the other end of the hall stand two sisters, calmly watching the proceedings with faint smiles. They seem... aroused but aware, their hips moving in a way that reminds you of your own legs rubbing together, "Traitors..." Behind them the passage continues, barred by a thick wooden door that looks like it was salvaged from the Abbey.

lower...

The word is so faint you almost don't pick up on it but you bend to the ground and flinch at the twin lines of demonic balls that flop back and forth between the spread legs of the sisters. You'd forgotten how well endowed imps were... focus Sabine. The glint of metal catches your attention and you realize that all of the sisters are wearing what appear to be metal underwear, "Chastity belts? How-"

The realization that every sister in the room was being sodomized is not a pleasant one but you can't help gasping at the gush of fluid that escapes your pussy in response. If they wore chastity belts... then that meant they could still be virgins. And if they were still virgins, then they still had a connection to The Burning Rose. And if dozens of sisters were continuously pouring lust into their worship of the goddess then...

You don't quite understand the machinations of it but you suddenly have a much better idea of what The Rose has been trying to tell you all this time and why she had been acting so lasciviously. Tuning back into your deity, almost bowled over by the wave of burning desire that cascades over and through you, you are met with intense joy and non-verbal praise. This must have been going on for months! You feel a deep sense of empathy with the goddess and what she's been through, not to mention a fair bit of shame for how you doubted her so.

"I have to tell the other abbeys! There's no way we'll be able to repel a demon invasion when you're in this state!" You get a somewhat haughty twinge of reprisal for that but you know it to be the truth.

You turn back to scan the room: Janine isn't here.

Leave.

The word is a command but you hesitate still, "It would help convince the others if two sisters explained what happened." The Rose's command repeats, more urgently this time. You can sense her desperation, this cult must pose a real threat. Still... you couldn't bear to lose another friend so soon after the fall of White Rock.