A Gift of The Goddess Ch. 02

Max's Tale

There's a place we go whenever we sleep and dream. It's a place apart from the waking world you know. It's the classroom where you'll be standing naked while giving the presentation you haven't studied for and upon which your grade depends.

It's the stage where the audience watches as you fumble aimlessly trying to remember the practiced lines you nevertheless seem to have forgotten.

It's constructed from the mind palace that exists within all of us and right now for me, it looks like a poorly decorated basement recreation room filled with drunk twenty-somethings watching me suck cocks still warm and wet from the freshly fucked Cathy Turnbull and Sally Owens. Yet it's not Cathy or Sally watching me ... mocking me, it's Loviatar.

She's dressed like Cathy was that last night though judging from her disgusted look and sudden transition to a silken white open-backed mini dress with peek-a-boo bodice; both the virgin-killer back and cleavage accented with gold chains, she's not entirely happy with the mental landscape.

"WHY would I be," she whispered, "I dream walked looking for the source of your power and what do I find; a pedestrian teenage angst drama."

"I apologize Mistress,"

"Excuse me?" Loviatar snarled, "Do I seem remotely mortal to you?"

"I apologize, my Goddess!"

"That's a little better."

"Thank you!" I answered with a smirk.

"What are you smiling at? I deigned to enter your pathetic mind and this sad drama is the first thing you show me; I came looking for YOUR story,...your truth."

"Well the fun part happened later, when I died."

"Yes, yes, I already know the boring stuff. Bullied student genius ...yawn, sexually intimidated by a narcissistic mean girl ... yawn, feelings of shame and confusion about your arousal during said sexual humiliation ...mildly interesting."

"Reincarnated after death by car accident?" I supply.

"See THAT, that was funny, death by road head, inspired choice I MUST say." Loviatar mocked, "You're potentially one of the strongest talents to enter the world in centuries and yet your backstory is so predictable and pathetically mundane."

"I apologize M'lady," I reply with absolute sincerity, "if I had known I'd be serving The Goddess of Pain I'd have died in a manner befitting one of Baal's minions."

Loviatar is many things to many people but she's no fool and she can hear the special emphasis my mind puts on that last word.

Her eyes flared, "So there's steel in your spine not just around your cock and a fire inside of you that could shelter and protect the world or burn it all away -- so why were you so easily misled?"

"Because I craved ... her friendship,"

"You're lying, but not out of guilt and shame at what you did, ... you're lying about WHY you did it," The Goddess mused, "she wasn't your friend and you knew that."

"I know that, ...maybe even knew it at the time but dammit I liked being the guy. For a few brief moments I was the one they were jealous of."

Loviatar looked around at the room of jocks and dudebros laughing at my disgrace.

"Please, you held all of these people in contempt. I don't sense it directed towards anyone else however; not the Sisters of Battle or me. Your mind is filled with images of powerful females."

Loviatar starts to change and transform, a wise and strong space princess in a steel bikini with intricately styled hair braids, a cool and rational FBI agent, a baseball bat wielding court jester. Images pulled from my mind and memories. Ultimately however she returns to her own original form, leather clad dominatrix in a full bodysuit.

"You clearly respect power and intelligence but you're not a pissed off man-child whining for treats you've been denied nor a weakling who resents that which you cannot take by force, so why did you let her take advantage of you?"

I was hesitant to answer. I felt ashamed and shame was like a scent Loviatar could track like a bloodhound.

"And savor like a gourmet cooked meal," Loviatar hissed, "show me everything!"

The scene shifted and twisted around us.

My story isn't terribly complicated, I'll just give you the Too Long; Didn't Read version.

I lived and was sexually humiliated at a house party by my mean girl-bully girlfriend. I died and was reincarnated to a fantasy world with a pretty strong matriarchal class. Ended up as a cleric slash sex slave in a world where magic was very real, very powerful and dangerous and where my unique talants and fetishes made me an in-demand asset.

Loviatar's cool gaze tells me that my attempt to gloss over the details of my life isn't working.

The story of how I got here started fifteen minutes before I died. Ok technically it started fifteen WEEKS before I died but the important part started ... you know what, Fine, you want details here are the details

She wasn't REALLY MY girlfriend, I kind of knew that at the time but I was walking around school with the hottest girl so I was willing to make compromises on things like niceness and loyalty.

Cathy Turnbull was stupid enough that she absolutely needed to work hard to compensate. However she was smart enough to know she would get further in life by getting other people to work hard FOR HER.

So when she flunked a bunch of courses and her extremely wealthy father developed a backbone and refused to pay for her dream postsecondary party school she found a Plan-B.

Me.

To say she seduced me would be jerking off my nonexistent self-esteem. She never explicitly stated she would be my exclusive girlfriend, she just implied the absolute shit out of it; of course with so much of my blood in my dick instead of my head it's entirely possible I read way more into our "friendship" then was ever there in the first place. It would certainly have explained why I chose to tell the school's stereotypical mean girl that I was way more comfortable with wearing ladies clothes than the average student.

As she explained to me that first time while edging my overstimulated cock, she got good grades and I got my little wee-wee played with periodically. She got something and I got something -- mutual self-interest at its most basic.

I did her homework, took her tests or gave her enough information so she could cheat when circumstances FORCED her to actually do class work. I even cracked the school database and pulled six years worth of standardized tests off it and ran her through them. Ok I didn't do it, I had a friend from my D&D group take care of it.

In return she cock teased me, relentlessly. Gave me handjobs, footjobs and whispered promises of erotic pleasures you can only imagine if you have read as much Japanese femdom hentai as I have.

Her first A in English was a cause for celebration in the oddest way possible. Her BFF's current boyfriend-slash-fucktoy had displeased her in some way, so my "reward" was to be part of his "punishment".

"Oh I like this girl," Loviatar hissed, "show me more."

She lured me to the house by saying she wanted to review the work and the fact that he did worse than she did on a test they'd both taken was a source of cutting mockery. She then gave him a slow, torturously-paced hand job from which the fucktoy-boyfriend was allowed only to come CLOSE to orgasm several times but not actually cum. Only A-Pluses deserved a full climax.

Then she offered face sitting privileges to the fucktoy-boyfriend's sweetie, one of her mean-girl friends whose parents demanded she get an A-Plus if she wanted to keep her car, which was Cathy's secondary means of vehicular transportation.

She was annoyed to be playing around with the perverted nerd-boy but since my efforts had secured her that treasured A-Plus her success was my success. She sat on my face or more accurately she sat on the dildo ball gag harness I was forced to wear. Then the bitch rode that silicone toy cock to several orgasms while I stared up at her. Once again, with her fucktoy-boyfriend watching us with impotent rage while he was edged over and over but not permitted to cum. Not sure which she enjoyed most, my helpless look or the deep penetration

The footjob I referenced? That's when that happened. Apparently humping her feet before covering her toes with my man-milk was hilarious.

"It was!" Loviatar laughed, "and you're going to tell me you still didn't see where this was going to end?"

In hindsight, you'd think the fact that I was basically a tool for someone's sexual humiliation should have been more of a redflag but it didn't register in my blood deprived brains or maybe it did, that's the nature of self delusion.

"If you know you're doing it, are you actually deluding yourself?" Loviatar asked.

We went on a date, technically. Another BFF liked to supplement her pocket money by going on what wannabe Otaku weebs like me referred to as Compensated Dates. Cathy dressed me in schoolgirl clothes and had me wear her used panties and a remote control vibration collar on my penis. I proceeded to give a bunch of random guys oral. She seemed to enjoy watching me cum repeatedly in her underwear while making said randoms glaze my cum-slut face with their male frosting. She even took my share of the money we made.

"Don't lie, you enjoyed it just as much," The Goddess taunted.

Whether or not I enjoyed it, the BFF tracked me down and thanked me when she found out what Cathy had me do. Then she did something that in hindsight again should have been a red flag. She reminded me that Cathy could be mean, not just pretending because it's hot - mean, actual scar you for life, mean. Cathy was a bully. You'd have thought with all the time I spent shoved inside lockers or with my head in a toilet, I'd recognize that fact but I was a horny teen getting my wee-wee fondled occasionally so I convinced myself that as long as it wasn't ME she was bullying I could ignore the redflags.

Cathy and I only fucked once. I developed a crush on a nice girl, Sally Owens. Sally was the kind of girl guys like me end up with even while we're fantasizing about girls like Cathy. Anyway, Cathy found out and cock-teased me in class relentlessly until she basically hauled my dick out in class and rode it to a messy cream pie which she made sure Sally saw. Unfortunately she wasn't the only one who noticed. Our teacher "punished" me by making me clean up the creampie I'd deposited in Cathy's snatch then she wanted me to eat HER out. She then congratulated Cathy on finding such an obedient cum-slut to help her improve her grades.

Cathy went from a GPA challenged bottle blonde who could barely spell PIE to being able to recite PI to seven or eight places. She passed with flying colours and the plan was to celebrate by having a house party.

Anyone else would have dumped me and left it at that. Cathy Turnbull wasn't like anyone else.

She told me we were going to a costumed house party at a remote location. She blindfolded me and when we GOT there there were of course NO costumes. Just a bunch of dude-bros laughing at the loser nerd in drag. She then tied me up and made me watch as she fucked said dude-bros.

The freshly picked and juicy cherry on top of the shit sundae I ate that night? Sally was there and I got to watch the girl I genuinely cared for get fucked while raving about how much bigger and more manly those other guys were.

"Please, she never fucked you," Loviatar laughed, "How did she know?"

Sally and Cathy took several hard cocks over what felt like hours. I know they were hard because I was made to give each and every one of them a pregame blowjob before they were allowed to join the gangbang. I am mildly curious whether they were turned on by fucking the girls or the blow job they received from me or clean up if they wanted a round two, a surprisingly large number wanted seconds and thirds. I'm not sure which was worse, that I did it or that I heard some girl snickering to someone later on that my blowjobs must've been good because dudes never recovered that quickly or came that fast when SHE blew them.

I would have probably enjoyed eating their pussies but apparently that would not have been nearly humiliating enough for the sadistic bitch. The final humiliation was her talking Sally into anal and then demanding that I clean her well-fucked asshole after her fucktoy, ironically the one who'd watched while my face was ridden to Hell and back weeks previously, blew his load in her.

When I was finally released I left in tears with their mocking laughter ringing through my brain. I wandered back roads for what seemed like an eternity before a passing truck found me. The driver SEEMED surprisingly sympathetic. He assured me he'd be happy to get me back to civilization IF I PAID for the ride, wink-wink-nudge-nudge.

I honestly don't blame him. You find a crossdressing boy-whore by the roadway. You kind of assume he's up for fun and games. He was pretty nice about it. Suggestive stroking of my stockinged thighs, how pretty I looked, how lonely he was. I thought he was asking me about my night because he had empathy, turns out what he had was a raging erection. It only got harder as I described the evening's events. Eventually he shoved his hot tongue in my mouth and eventually followed that up with his hard shaft. Technically what followed was my fault because I told him I'd prefer not to fuck in the cab of the truck so he started recklessly speeding through the night. Unfortunately for us both he had been drinking both coffee and booze and had an undiagnosed heart condition that was exacerbated by caffeine and adrenaline. So I sucked my last cock of the night and in hindsight giving into his demand for road head was the last of several questionably poor life choices I'd made that day. As previously stated, I apparently have some mean-ass oral skills, because the orgasm he had as he came in my mouth gave him a heart attack which caused the truck to crash. I was aware the truck was rolling down a steep embankment to finally crash through a remote country house.

Three guesses which one, and the first two don't count.

As I lay dying, I thought I saw...something or someone.

The world stopped and I saw....not a shadow so much as a light. A light that had the body of a woman in a gleaming white gown carrying a lamp.

"Poor thing," she said, "what brought you to THIS sad end. You had great knowledge and a kind heart, surely such a person deserves better than an ignominious ending."

There was a note of insincerity that I did not fail to notice.

"I sense sarcasm, why am I sensing sarcasm?" I asked.

"That is what you're thinking isn't it? You think your death was both unfair and cruel."

"On the surface? Absolutely, that said, it's the people who least deserve to be shit on who inevitably become Fate's toilet paper."

"You're remarkably pragmatic, " the being replied.

"I have a genius level IQ, if anyone should have figured out what was happening beforehand it's me so if I'm in this situation it's because, however much I'd like to say otherwise, I chose to be here."

"You hoped your cynical appraisal of her motives might be wrong."

"...And if I'm honest, my motives too."

"And if you had it to do over again would you?

"Why not?"

"Really?"

"It's not like I didn't get ANYTHING out of the arrangement."

"You can, even in this moment, take responsibility for yourself?"

"If you get mauled while messing around with a feral animal, who's really at fault? You or the feral animal. Cathy was a bully. I shouldn't have forgotten that fact just because she was cock teasing me."

"So what have you truly learned?"

"Helping people is all well and good but I would definitely make sure I helped myself at the same time. If I had it to do over again I would probably be more mercenary!"

"So all you've learned from this is to be more self interested?"

I responded "Self interest in and of itself isn't a problem, the trick is to not be so blindly self-involved you don't realize when helping someone else might help you."

She looked at me with a smirk, "A self-aware pain junkie who's instincts for empathy and compassion somehow survived both a humiliating heartbreak and a tragic death." she started laughing, "My sister will absolutely love you,"

The next thing I knew I was waking up in another world.

I didn't have to be a baby or a child again. Or maybe I did and I was just finally remembering my true identity after a lifetime of anonymous poverty.

Whoever's life I stepped into had a body not too dissimilar from the one I died in. Right down to the feminine features that made me look especially bombing in a dress and make up.

Whoever they used to be, they were malnourished, waif-like and thin. I was on the side of a country road and started walking. By nightfall my stomach was growling, I felt weak and I was feeling a little desperate; not conditions conducive towards critical thinking.

I was so grateful for the man in the horse drawn wagon who stopped and offered me a ride. I didn't question the people chained in the back until after I ate the drugged bread.

When I woke up again he had just sold what he thought was a homeless teenager to a church matron as domestic help, oh why pretty it up. I was a slave.

A slave!

From stereotypical RPG playing nerd to a femboy cuckold with a GPA in the nineties to houseboy slash slave wasn't exactly the life path trajectory I was planning on when I woke up the day I died.

She was very nice about informing me of my new normal. I would clean, help in the kitchens and bathrooms and occasionally keep parishioners occupied and happy until one of the ACTUAL priests could deal with them.

In answer to the question Sister Eve hinted at, no I didn't encounter THOSE kinds of priests. THOSE kinds of priests certainly existed and they're just as troublesome as they are in the world I originally came from. But the polytheistic nature of the world and the theological buffet breakfast that are this world's religions, priests with a hunger for carnal distractions can easily find divine orders that not only allow such practices but encourage them.

I eventually noticed the familiar iconography around the church; statues, carvings, stained glass windows and portraits, all bore the image of the mysterious gowned woman who'd happily welcomed me to this strange familiar world.

Mystria, she was old, worship of her had fallen off in recent years but this church and others still celebrated her benevolence. I searched the records for the unnamed sister she'd mentioned. The only one I found was a dark goddess of pain and humiliation named Loviatar. I knew I had a type but surely this was not the reason I'd been isekai'd?

Speaking of which, when I realized I'd literally spoken with a goddess a lot of things changed for me. My training as a Cleric began, no more plunging toilets as a brainless low-rent wage slave to earn my bowl of tasteless watery gruel. Now I did it because servants of the Gods needed to show their submission to Divine will.

Anyway, I had never missed a meal in my previous life but my brand new body was all too familiar with the gnawing ache they call hunger. I cooked, I cleaned and when the matron discovered that I knew letters and numbers I was tasked with writing for those who couldn't. It didn't take long before the true breadth of my skill set revealed itself.

This world is one where reading and writing are not general knowledge skills. Within a month I was doing the old matron's books for her. Both the official set shown to the priests and corrupt city officials who maintained the church we lived in, and the unofficial transcript where I tracked the money skimmed off the top for her private reserves and the money she suspected the other employees skimmed from donations given by the faithful to further our Godly efforts. Matron still had me waiting tables and cleaning but an employee capable of reading and writing and calculating amounts and percentages in their head was a useful tool.