Yes

You're sitting on a small stool in a side chamber in the cathedral. In front of you kneels the priestess garbed only in a spiked metal collar. She still grasps your erect penis in one hand, looking at you expectantly.

You finger the ballgag you are holding. It consists of a simple black rubber ball with a single air hole, attached to a leather belt. You truly have no idea what is going to happen to you if you accept the bargain, but this _is _the world you wished for, isn't it?

You wonder whether you are making a mistake as you pass the belt around your head. You open your mouth and fit the rubber ball inside. The taste of rubber is mildly annoying as you tighten the strap at the back of your head.

"Great!"

The priestess sounds positively gleeful as she springs up and hurries over to the closet at the other side of the room.

A moment later, he is striding back towards you, holding a large black rectangle under one arm. Her breasts swish with each large stride. The room isn't very large, so it only takes her a few steps to reach you again.

"Time to get dressed!"

She slides the black rectangle around your feet, then pulls on your arm to get you to stand up. The black rectangle seems to be a black leather skirt of some kind. It sticks a bit coming up, but she wiggles it up your legs in no time at all. The skirt is quite tight, and you wonder for a moment how she is possibly going to fit your large erection into it. It turns out that there is a u-shaped dimple in the middle that fits against the base of your ballsack. The priestess fastens it with a belt that goes just over the base of your penis. Both the skirt and belt are padded only where they touch your crotch.

"Can you do me a favor and check to see whether the pockets fit?"

"Nngh?"

You feel around your right hip curiously, and to your surprise there does appear to be a pocket of some kind. You slide your right hand in exploratively. That's odd, where's the bottom of the pocket? As you are puzzling over the mysterious pocket, you barely register the priestess guiding your left hand into the pocket on the opposite side.

You are startled by the sensation of fabric sliding over both of your arms simultaneously. You look down at your arms, and see that the priestess is sliding up black stockings over both your arms, one with each hand. The stockings must have been bunched up, concealed at the tops of the pockets. The priestess finishes sliding them just over the ball joints of your shoulders, then reaches up to her collar.

"MMMM!"

You roll your shoulders, trying to wiggle the stockings down off of your shoulders. Just as you think you managed to shift one a couple of millimeters down, there is a click, and the priestess pops a small silver chain with hooks on both ends out of her collar. She completely ignores your attempts to free your arms, reaching forward and hugging you tightly. Her soft breasts squish into your torso. You feel the stockings go taut against the tops of your shoulders, and the metal of the chain touches the vertebra at the back of your neck.

The priestess steps back a moment to admire her handiwork.

"Just a couple more things," she says, turning back towards the nearby desk.

You take stock of your situation. Your only clothing is a black leather skirt that goes down to just above the knee, black stockings that cover your the parts of your arms that stick out of the pockets, and a ballgag that prevents you from speaking. The skirt is tight enough that you have to keep your thighs within about six inches of each other, just enough leeway to make small steps. You can pull your arms out of the pockets a little bit, but this forces you to bend your elbows, stretching the stockings, which are quite elastic. It takes a noticeable effort to keep an elbow bent, so you keep your arms straight for now.

The priestess finishes rummaging around in the drawers of the desk, and turns back towards you, holding a small silver bell hung from a ring in one hand, and a black sharpie in the other. She reaches down, slips the ring over your ball sack, and twists it, causing it to slide into itself and get tighter. She slaps your dick playfully, then steps behind you.

"My name's Isabella, if you want to participate in a more private service later, just call me."

Isabella then writes something on the back of your neck with the sharpie.

You muse to yourself, that's one way of getting a girl's phone number.