Basking in one's own Beauty

Several hours later, Chastity was still bound and tied. Her limbs aching from their extended period spent drawn taut with very little available movement. But you got used to such a situation after a while, her body settling into the inevitable knowledge that there was nothing she could do about it anyway. Sometimes unreachable parts of you itched… but you simply had to learn to ignore it and let it pass away on its own. The devout teenager guessed that, ultimately that was the lesson here: to steady one's mind and simply give one's body over to higher powers.

The Brothers came and went, on the way to and from their other unknowable businesses of the morning. They would grope at her; slide a finger or two inside her bared lower entrances, or a cock inside her mouth. Some would even just stare at her through those expressionless masks and masturbate, leaving her little option but to stare back in fascination. It was so strange to think… that a few short weeks ago she had barely even known what a penis looked like. Now she'd seen so many of all different shapes, sizes and colours. It was weirdly entrancing to watch them swell and grow out of the loose confines of these stranger’s robes. Be taken into hand and have their foreskins peeled back to reveal lumpy, purplish helmets.

Some of the Brothers would step forward and just rub that soft, clearly-sensitive patch of skin against her face, or thighs, or feet. It didn’t seem to matter where, though some of the men clearly had preferences. Chastity would feel their weeping warmth and twitching, throbbing excitement… and be astounded at the thought that it was the sight of her naked form that drew such reactions from them. At first she'd found it unsettling and unpleasant, but every time it happened her heart grew a little more attached to the experience. To the sense that her God-given form was being used to draw such sinful lusts free from these poor souls. She would gaze openly and willingly up at the wielders of such fleshy pillars and sense the increase in eagerness this would cause in them. Glad that she was fulfilling her duty to ease them of such burdens.

Then, one by one, they would expulge the physicality of those burdens across her. Coating the girl’s skin or tongue with warm, goopy caresses. Her inability to move or react tightening the focus on every flavour and sensation. When each donator drew his robes closed and left, she would have nothing to do but bask in what they had left her with. Feeling each viscous drip slowly make its way down her cleavage, or back, or throat. She was accepting of her role as a collector and vessel for such offerings now… though it still made her shudder sometimes as one, slow, slimy trickle wandered across her skin.

It was a strange and swampy state: to be so stuck and sticky, unable to do anything about it. The hours of the morning seemed to stretch on into infinity, punctuated only by the coming and going of strange men she could not tell one from another. Gradually, the deposits they left dried in the sun, flaking up along the trails they’d followed across her naked body. Chastity wondered whether she'd ended up looking more like a glazed ham, glistening and bound? But if that was the vision a good, God-fearing girl was supposed to be, then she was determined to wear it proudly.