I

The sand covered wastes of the eastern desert spread so far that even the highest flying eagle could not begin to grasp their monstrous size. For a lone wanderer in that place the desert would surly seem endless, as if it covered the entire Earth in the driest sand. It was somewhere in this distant land in some distant unknown time, so long ago that the endless ages managed to completely delete their ancient history so that to us they will never be known, in times when early humans still were conquering the endless expanses of our home-planet, in that far gone time when no language was foreign and still men knew of magic and of the gods, in that time a great and ominous structure loomed over the endless desert, like a crown that sat rusting on the head of a long dead king. It was visible from any direction approaching the desert, and its figure dominated the horizon as a beacon to weary desert travelers, a silhouette of a fear inducing shrine which was to be avoided, though some unique few desired to go there. It was the temple of the divine Baala, the old eldritch goddess of sensation, pleasure and pain.

From the yellow sand, rose five great monoliths made of black obsidian so large that a man would need an hour so walk around one, they rose to high that their tops met with the cloudless sky. From the top of each monolith hung a massive chain which held in place a large central monolith made of the same kind of stone but of spherical shape which was to massive that it was said that all the send of the great eastern deserts could fit in it and there will still be room for more, a home fit for a goddess.

Through the deep desert, guided by the black figure on the horizon, a lonely traveler made his way to the temple. Suram was a man of bulk build, higher than an average man even in that time when men were giants, his white skin contrasted against his long black hair and swamp green eyes. He made his way through the brutal desert silently and with determination. His sister Eda left their home to join the monks of Baala as her flesh-slave, and now it was Suram’s duty to go and inform her of their mother’s death, as is the custom in their land.

As he approached his destination he felt his mouth going dry and his skin ceasing to sweat, as he ran out of water a few hours ago. Drawing closer, the great cyclopean building, erected there eons ago by some unknown race of Baala worshipers which were now long replaced by humans, shined ominously reflecting the sun’s rays off of it’s black crystalline surface. Suram found himself in front of a large bronze door which was placed on the facade of the structure under an angle as if it was meant to be entered from above by some sort of flying creature. Suram knocked heavily on the large doors, and in few seconds he could hear the sound of chains falling and scraping of metal, as the large bronze door spit open and Suram was left to gasp at the sight which awaited him behind them. From the preternatural darkness of the temple emerged the head and torso of a tall and strong black man, yet he was so mutated that Suram could barely recognize him as human. The man had iron hoods piercing his skin in at least twenty places all around his chest and back, which were connected with thin chains to a sort of metal crown which seemed welded to his skull, so that whenever he moved his head some of the chains would tighten causing him great pain as the hooks pulled on skin. Another horror were his eyes, as it seemed that his eyelids were cut off, forcing his eyes to endlessly water and still be red and dry.

-Why did you come, traveler?

Asked the man as the tone of his voice changed each time the hooks tightened his skin.

-I am looking for my sister, good monk, Eda came here to worship you goddess, and now I must bring her a message from home.

The man looked at Suram for a moment, causing unsettling silence, his blood-red eyes filled with both joy and pain scanned Suram as if looking for a possible threat.

-Very well, you may enter and search for your kin, but know this, every mortal who dared enter the dominion of Baala became her slave, some wiling and some unwilling, all shall serve her.

With this, the man disappeared back into the darkness, leaving the downward path open for Suram.

II

Suram went down the stair case and into the temple, sliding his hand against the black walls until his eyes got used to the dim light of the candles, the first room he emerged to at the end of the long descant was a large yet empty chamber with nothing but a single doorway behind which Suram could hear screams and moans of countless people. In front of the door stood a tall figure clad in black robes which covered his entire body, only the tips of his old, gray fingers could be seen. Suram approached the ominous figure, soon wishing he hadn’t as the old monk rose his head to reveal his face to the young man. His skin was loos and gray, not a hair could be seen on his head, his black eyes pierced the soul and invoked in it the deepest fears of men. The most unsettling thing was his grin which was permanently stamped on his face, as his muscles were tightened irreversibly due to the great amount of pain and pleasure he had suffered while serving his goddess.

I-I’m looking for Eda…

Suram couldn’t finish as the monk interrupted him in a deep and gravely voice.

We are all nameless here, heathen, we are nothing but human play-things to the great goddess. I am here to introduce newcomers to her dominion, all shall serve, soon you too will know the limits of sensation and the great gift of ecstasy which pain so generously gives. There are three great chambers in this temple, the chamber of the mind-slaves, the chamber of the silk-slaves and the chamber of the flesh-slaves. In whichever chamber you choose to stay that chamber shall become your home, and you shall become the slave of your own choosing. In the chamber of the mind-slaves, your drug shall be endless control and domination, in the chamber of the slik-slaves your lust shall be your chains, and orgasmic pleasure shall be your torture, in the chamber of the flesh-slaves pure bodily pain shall be your imperative and sorrow shall be your master. At the end stands the last chamber, the great altar of Baala, if you dare to enter this room, you shall recieve her greatest pleasure, endless madness and terror!

Thus spoke the monk, and before Suram could utter a single word, a black mist rose from the floor, and then dispersed and with it the monk was gone as well.

III

Suram pushed open the door leading to the chamber of the mind-slaves. The whispering murmur of a distant room became loud noise as moans of pleasure and grunts of pain filled his ears. Suram.found himself in an extrodinarelly large circular room surrounded by black support beams whose walls were decorated in an oriental fashion. This room was far better lit than the last as the bright torches which hung from the ceiling bathe in light the hundreds of people which filled the room. Both male and female, people of all races, some slaves and some their owners. The hunter and the prey, the alpha and the beta embodied in this one chamber in perfect cosmic harmony. Suram made his way through the chamber weary and thirsty from his traveling through the desert, so he stopped to ask one of the worshipers of Baala where he can get a drink. He came upon a man wearing a violet robe with a tall glass of red wine in his hand. Around him knelt five beautiful women, some dressed in see through red robes and others naked, his slaves as it seemed. They each had around their neck a black leather collar, connected via a chain leash to rings worn by their master on his left hand. As he walked the slave girls crawled seductively by his side vying for attention from their master. Suram approached the man and his slaves and after noticing the curves on the beautiful slaves he rose his gaze to the man and spoke:

Stranger, do you know where a traveler like me can get something to drink in this place of worship?

The man smiled at Suram.

By the east wall there is a fountain of wine which quenches our thirst and where we bring our slaves to drink.

Spoke the man. As he stood one of his slaves crawled up against his leg grasping upwards towards the glass of wine in his hand. The man looked down upon the girl as he grabbed her violently by her blond hair and pulled her head backwards.

Open your mouth girl.

He spoke in a commanding voice.

The slave complied and the man poured the glass of wine down in her mouth as she smiled and extended out her tongue while her body quivered in pleasure and submission to her master’s will.

Thank you master!

Moaned the girl as she dropped back to her hand and knees.

Amazed by the pleasure that such submission and humiliation brings to these slaves, Suram looked at the man curiously.

– How did you persuade these woman to serve you so well?

– He asked the man bewildered.

— We are all slaves to Baala here. It is She who give us what we desire, to some it may be the orgasmic feeling of power over another human being, to others, like these girls, it is the pleasure of powerlessness and submission by which they serve Baala. To me, She has given the gift of power and domination for it is my drug.

After he spoke. The man took his slaves and went away, as Suram made his way to the fountain of wine which the slave-owner showed him.

All around him were masters and mistresses with their slaves. Some punished and some rewarded, all in endless cycle of dominating and being dominated. Soon, Suram found himself in front of a large black statue of a lion from whose mouth flowed an endless stream of red wine. In his thirst and desperation Suram knelt before the black stone king and drank from his well, his eyes watering with joy. As Suram drank, he noticed how the wine had a spicy taste and a strange smell, when he stopped drinking his tongue began to burn as if pinched by hot irons.

— What is in this wine?!

Suram whispered with a sour face.

Next to the black lion statue there sat a large stone throne on which a naked mistress clad only in golden jewelry and countless black pearls which hung around her neck and over her soft breasts sat with her gaze seductively cast towards Suram. At her feet two male slaves knelt with bowed heads kissing her feet in worship and submission. At once, one of the slaves turned around as if commanded by his mistresses gaze and looked Suram dead in the eyes, whispering with a voice unnaturally filled with joy and unmemorable ecstasy:

— Blood of sinners!

These words rang inside Suram’s head as if he were hypnotized by some divine magic. It took him a few seconds to come to his sense, a fear overcame him, what sort of magic had he succumb to? He stood up and ran to the next chamber.

IV

The sound of grunts and moans was soon replaced by loud, heavy breathing and panting as Suram found himself inside the chamber of the slik-slaves. The chamber was about the same shape and size as the previous one, though this one was adorned with wide red banners made out of thin silk which covered the black walls of the room. The floor was covered in a single large fur carpet made of thick red fur which was barely visible under the converging bodies of a few hundred people. Suram felt a potent smell of mixed male and female pheromones in the air, which was no surprise as in front of him a mass orgy of lustful silk-slaves and their master took place. Endless moaning and panting echoed in the room as the lustful sinners took each other as they pleased, nothing was taboo, nothing out of reach, everything permitted in order to satisfy their thirst. Suram walked slowly through this chamber, mesmerized by the sight of a thousand hands gripping and petting supple and muscular bodies, his mind even more enchanted by the gaze of pure lust and seduction on the faces of girls who’s mind had been filled with unquentching desire for bodily pleasure. Soon, Suram could feel the gentle fingers of lustful women crawl against his thighs and legs as they reach out from the floor with a wanting looking in their eyes, craving more pleasure, craving new blood. One of the silk-slaves caught Suram’s eye in particular, a raven haired girl of petite build, she curled her tall body up against his leg reaching up to his crotch as she whispered to him:

Stay here young master, I will show you the ends of desire.

In an enchanting, almost inhuman voice. Suram could feel the effect of the strange wine hit his mind again as he found himself tempted to stay with the slik-slaves. Enchanted by the soft voice and lustful eyes of the girl, Suram remembered what the monk told him in the first room and how he was still to find Eda somewhere in the temple. He pushed the girl away from himself and continued waking, as soon as the girl fell back on the carpet an army of lustful slaves came her way looking for satisfaction.

Suram soon reached the other end of the room, where a line of wooden pillories stood, in each a female slave was locked and chained, their head forced down to the floor while their hips were up in the air allow anyone to take them as they please. Behind them stood tall and good-looking men who wore horned bull masks over their heads, thrusting into the slaves with violent passion. The slaves moaned and begged for more as each was to satisfy the others thirsts. This sight broke Suram’s mind even more, and he found himself looking back to the girl with the black hair that stopped him earlier. It took him a few minutes and a great amount of willpower to snap out of this state, then he continued with a faster pace towards the next door behind the slaves.

From one temptation to the other, Suram entered the last slave chamber, the chamber of the flesh-slaves. Here only screams of pain intermixed with sounds of begging slaves could be heard. There were far fewer people here, but those that were here seemed to be feeling the most extreme pleasure that Baala can give. Some were chained and whipped by the monks, other had candle wax poured over their skin, and still others were caged in uncomfortable positions while being violently pleasured. Here the greatest and most devoted and perverted worshipers of Baala come to worship, for there is nothing like extreme sensation which rings forth the most orgasmic pleasure, and the release of darkest and hidden desire. No one stopped Suram in this chamber, he was free to go, no one talked to him, but still he stayed and looked. He was in awe after seeing the look of pure pleasure on the faces of people who were experiencing endless pain. Slowly, step by step Suram walked through this smallest of the chambers. He looked around him and appreciated the extremes of feeling and desire that surrounded him. One of the monks of Baala in the black robe walked by him, and Suram stopped him out of curiosity:

Why are these people so pleased with such pain?

He asked.

For Baala and her worshipers, there is no pleasure and pain, there is only sensation. Pleasure and pain are just two ends of a wider spectrum, going to extremes in one will lead you to the other. Nothing brings pain like too much pleasure, and nothing can induce so much pleasure, as can brutal pain. The desire is the same, it is the way in which one chooses to answer to it which determines which chamber one shall serve in.

With that the monk was gone, and Suram continued to the last part of the temple, the altar room.

V.

The final part of the temple was the largest room of them all. At the end of which was a wall covered in a huge altar to Baala which seemed impossible to be built by human hands. The shapes and curves of the altar had an unnatural aura to them. Suram could not grasp the magnificence and eldritch terror associated with the ominous monstrosity, he could feel his mind begin to break even more as the wine again started with its effects, and the act of looking upon the divinity of Baala seemed to enchant Suram’s minds as if tempting it to madness. Around the altar a myriad of slaves were crawling naked as the monks who were present whipped them continually with spiked whips, leading to the slave bleeding liters of blood upon the stone floor. The blood was then drained via a series of canals engraved in the floor, and was collected in a large pool filled with blood in front of the altar itself. The slaves were smiling and laughing, happily providing for their goddess, it seems this is the ultimate form of worship the monk had mentioned, so mad for pleasure and pain that they’re ready to die in servitude to Baala.

It is then that Suram noticed a figure standing behind the large pool of blood by the altar. It was Eda. Though in a form he could barely recognize. She was naked, with heavy iron chains adorning her body, with eyes cast into the altar to Baala as if praying.

Eda! It’s me, your brother, I’m here to bring you news from home.

Shouted Suram hoping Eda would hear him. At that moment Eda turned to reviled that her once blue eyes had gone completely black and with a death stare which obviously didn’t recognize him.

Eda rose her hand to the sky and the slaves stopped crawling, and the whips stopped cracking, even the sounds of pleasure from the other rooms stopped, as she spoke in a deep and demonic voice:

Your sister is no more, mortal. She is but a slave to my whim, she now knows the ultimate pleasure, as will you soon know as well.

After these words, Suram fell to his knees as if by some unseen magic. Enchanted he could no longer speak, and his eyes were now glued to the body that was once his sister’s.

The sacrifice shall be made.

Spoke Eda, and as soon as she did two monks approached her with small razors and began cutting off her skin piece by piece as she cried in blissful agony. Suram still looked, still powerless to help as the wine took on its full effect, beginning to wash away his sanity. When the monks finished peeling the skin from her body, they covered Eda in some sort of oil from which her skinless body turned red as if burning, with endless tears of pain and joy running down her face. One of the monks took a torch and set the oil on fire. As Eda screamed the monks began to chant a prayer to Baala. Step by step the burning Eda came closer to the large pool of blood, and in a single moment fell face-first into the blood which erupted into a ball of flames in front of the massive altar.

— I see it now. Hail Baala! The goddess of eternal pleasure!

Shouted Suram, his mind now completely under the goddesses’ control. He smiled as he was taken away by the monks, to become a flesh-slave of Baala.

And so stands the temple in the desert. An ominous figure at the end of the horizon. Hell for some, heaven for other, the place where pain and pleasure meet in endless desire. Surrounded by an endless sea of desert sand.