Finally, after eight long years of devoting yourself to the teachings of the eternals, you have done it. You have come of age, whilst proving yourself worthy of the Sisterhood.

You know your struggle is far from over. Decades of hard work and dedication lay ahead if you are to stay a sister and climb the ranks too eventually, if the gods will it, become High Priestess of the mysterious Sisterhood of Venus. But this doesn't stop you dancing from foot to foot, unable to dampen the excitement bubbling within you.

Hearing the deep pipe organs from the other side of the towering oak doors, you quickly compose yourself. Straightening your simple white cloth, tight as it is against your body, barely covering your privates. Making sure the simple hair plait running down your back is still intact and that the silver half-moon, attached to its thin gold chain necklace, was positioned just right.

Silently, the immense double doors swing slowly open before you. As you step, barefoot, into the cavernous room, a small gasp escapes your lips as you take in the cavernous room, with it's golden pillars, spaced several meters apart, rising up from the cold, polished marble floor and merging into the intricately arched, heavenly white marble ceiling, that seems to glow with an inner light.

Hurriedly snapping out of it, you proceed, two rows of priestesses lining your path, as you slowly make your way straight towards the center of the temple. Your echoing feet and nervous breathing is the only sound to be heard. The sisters watch you proceed, standing at slightly more than a respectful distance from you. Uncomfortably so.

The first sisters you pass are clothed similarly to you, but with white sandals and headscarf, the dress ending at quarter-leg, with a v-neck that shows just a hint of cleavage. The second are in blue, with a longer v-neck, dresses ending as low as yours and small heels. With a growing sense of foreboding, you pass the third class of priestesses. They are dressed like the second, with midriff showing, gold bracelets, mid-length heels and a silk veil replacing the headscarf, all in purple.

The last of the priestesses, however, disturb you. Wearing outrageously revealing clothing; with two strips of bunched, bright red silk hanging from the shoulders, running down the middle of each boob, barely covering the nipples, a disgraceful amount of each boob showing. The ends of the silk attach to their tightly-fitting, blood-red panties, with two daggers at the hips. Each priestess has a golden circlet upon her head, gold chains hanging down to rest atop, and accentuate, their busty bosoms, with high heels and silk that loosely winds its way from one arm to the other. Shamelessly smirking at your shocked face.

You halt at the steps of the altar. Above you is the High priestess, cloth even blacker than her skin hugs her body tightly, emphasizing her already impossible curvy hips and ass, strong legs and perfect boobs. With a bejeweled golden crown and staff, flowing midnight hair and catlike green eyes, she seems more an archaic goddess than mortal. You can't help but gaze at her beauty in wonder.

With a wave of her arm, she beckons you. Suddenly fearful, you hesitate before following her up the steps to stop before the altar. Distracted for a moment by the engravings in it's polished stone; depictions of Venus breathing life into Horan's creations, forming women out of light, teaching them, and fighting fiercely in the first cosmic war, you almost miss the High Priestesses order.

At her command, four bear chested monks appear from behind the rectangular altar, each grabbing a corner and lifting the top off, revealing the altar to be hollow and filled with water. They disappear with the lid whilst a fifth monk grabs your arm roughly, pushing you back down a step, and down onto your knees.

The High priestess pounds her staff twice upon the ground. "I am Vixandra, High priestess of the sisterhood," Vixandra's voice booms, as she gazes down at the gathered crowd. "As the voice of Venus, mother of mothers, I decree this initiation begin!"

"So decrees the High Priestess," the crowd chant "So decrees the High Priestess." Vixandra pounds her staff again, silencing the crowd. She looks down upon you, her solemn face's sublime features set almost disdainfully. "Your pledge, initiate."

Placing both hands upon your chest, with head bowed, you recite: "I pledge my life and wealth to the mother of mothers. I vow to follow her divine teachings, to teach the ignorant of her majesty, to obey her command and the command of her chosen priestesses above me. My future, mind, soul and body are hers to do with as she pleases. Praise Venus lifebreather."

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