A Gift of The Goddess Ch. 02

Being an effeminate cuckold with a working IQ just shy of 160 already made me a freak in my school life. Here I was a mutant, and that was before my powers started manifesting.

You're looking at me,...ah yes the powers. I guess I kind of buried the lead on that. In truth I didn't know about them myself at all. I thought I was still an off the rack human for a long time.

All that changed the day a drunken lout looking for his wife hiding in the nunnery attacked us. I accidentally hit him with a blast of fire. I immediately followed that up by raising every unwed mother who died in childbirth and was subsequently buried in the nearby cemetery. Spoiler Alert -- the dead come back extremely single-minded and a disturbing number of cases of maternal mortality have abusive husbands as a contributing factor. Needless to say, he did not return to the church and that was how I figured out I had access to magical abilities, and was yet another reason why I was not to be wasted on satiating the base wishes of some random pervert.

"So you see, I come by my service to a femdom Goddess honestly," I chuckled.

"So that's your secret shame," Loviatar hissed, "every single instinct told you that Cathy couldn't be trusted, ...that she should be used and discarded, you fought those instincts so you could be what? Her brave and noble hero? The only one who sees beyond her cruel facade?"

"I wanted to be a nice guy and instead I became -- The Nice Guy." I hissed with bile in my mouth.

Loviatar laughed, "And deep down you think you got what a Nice Guy deserves -- humiliation and disgrace."

"I'd tell you that you didn't have to rub it in but you're The Maiden of Suffering, rubbing it in is kind of in the job description."

"I have people serving me for centuries who don't show that level of wisdom." Loviatar laughed, "Mystria was right, you'll be absolutely perfect."

"In hindsight, it's possible that giving myself to a femdom Goddess who gets off on sadism and humiliation might've been a cry for help." I grumble.

"Oh Max, don't you understand yet? You're in service to Loviatar. You don't cry for help," the Goddess reached down and grabbed my manhood in her crushing grip, "you beg -- you grovel and plead and MAYBE if your actions grant me enough glory, enough power and frankly, enough amusement -- I may grant you that help, MAYBE."

Loviatar released my abused junk and took my face in her hands,

"You get something and I get something -- mutual self-interest at its most basic." The Goddess whispered.

"Oh yeah definite cry for help" I snorted, "At least I know why I'm wearing a chastity cage, ...given the fact I died because I let my dick do the thinking."

Loviatar chuckled, "I'll tell you a little secret Max, your dick didn't lead you to ruin, nor was it your prideful mind, ... no your weakness is your empathy and compassion, ... your heart; but like all weaknesses, it's one that can be fixed."

"How exactly is my empathy and compassion for others a problem to be fixed?" Max growled.

"Because empathy and compassion are like winter clothes, useful when needed but a hindrance and distraction when they are not." Loviatar lectured.

8

9

8

The siege started weeks ago.

Mere animals at first, demonic in nature perhaps but still basic creatures attacking in the night. They mauled livestock at first, ripping their bellies and leaving the viscera scattered upon the ground around carcasses that seemed to have endured horrible defilement before a final and gruesome end.

The farming community did their due diligence. You did not farm pasture in this remote location without expecting to be assaulted. You planned for it, you planted extra crops because you'd lose a few to bandits or animals. You patrolled your fields with your neighbors hopefully to catch someone or more often SOMETHING but mostly it was because a dead carcass or unattended broken fence attracted its own kind of scavenger.

Then the first body appeared, a farmhouse burned and the family slaughtered.

Whenever you found concrete proof you formed a posse and you grabbed your short sword or sling shot and you hunted down whatever was out there or you confirmed that whatever was out there wasn't going to be taken down by simple farmers wielding farming tools and children's weapons.

If your harvests were kind and neighbors generous you could send word to the local adventurers guild. There was always a low-level heroic wannabe willing to drive out the goblins or other scavengers or the Gods forbid, a tribe of demi-humans you'd ùnwittingly riled up.

This was different, this was worse, this was not some random attack from creatures more fearful of their animal instincts then you. This was the gentle probing of units looking for weaknesses and they found them.

They came in the night, numbers disguised by shadows and threw themselves against defenders who were expecting wild dogs or goblins. They rallied but the shadowy attackers kept coming. On the second day their archers attacked, shafts dipped in poisons that dealt damage that corrupted flesh even as it ate away at it. On the third day, the animals came again but it wasn't animals it was demi-humans eyes aglow with a sinister light. They threw themselves against barricades and the men behind them. Several lost their lives that time. They were the lucky ones because women and men were taken.

Then they repeated the pattern. Night after night clawing and grabbing at the barricades for hours before mysteriously retreating with the dawn.

Eventually the Imperial Army arrived; they came with pomp and ceremony. Their commander was arrogantly dismissive, and why not what creatures could stand against the might of the Empire. They were the fist of the Emperor. It was a bleak source of bitter humor that a quarter of his troops died that first night several dozen more the night after that.

The commander proposed searches into the hill country to find their bases and get a sense of their numbers. The only thing the scouts confirmed was there was some kind of dungeon and within, a portal and it was from this arcane construct that their army poured unceasingly.

Still they established why they came at night. The portal fed on vast amounts of energy. The portal couldn't remain open so they recharged it during the day. Not that they remained idle, oh no. The men they kidnapped were consumed while the women were used ... repeatedly.

Thus we had fifteen hours to regroup, from sunrise to sunset. Fifteen hours; it seemed so much a lifetime ago now it wasn't nearly enough.

A message to the Adventurer's Guild had been sent this morning. You had to wait until they retreated because otherwise, ...they'd found the previous messenger on the roadside. They'd quite literally fucked him to death. It would be sunset soon nobody was stupid enough to believe help would come before the next attack. The best they could hope for was the help would come before they were all dead. And hoping for the best surrounded by the dead and the dying seemed like a child's wishes offered to the heavens. The arrogant swagger of the Imperial commander was long gone. In some ways the lack of swagger was more terrifying than the beasts themselves. You could see it in his eyes, they were losing

As the sun slipped behind the hills the men gripped tools and makeshift weapons tight. They heard the first whispers even as the shadows started to shift and surge. Demonic archers loosed arrows to keep the defenders down long enough so their siege beasts could hurl themselves against the barricades again.

Men who'd stopped believing in gods long before this offered prayers they secretly thought would go unheard and unanswered.

Then the world turned mad.

A cow, it's guts oozing out of its ripped belly lurched upward to savagely bite into one of the attackers.

A dead dog that had lost one of its legs barked and snarled as it used it's remaining limbs to launch itself onto the throat of a demon beast tearing it out and moving on to the next and the next.

Unbelievably the now dead attackers lurched upwards. Eyes cloudy but filled with eldritch light and turned on their former comrades.

Archers who seconds before had peppered our defenses with poisoned arrows now rained that fire upon their own fighters. It was chaos

Then, she was there, a figure in crimson, a serrated longsword swirling through the air hacking animated corpses and demonic beasts alike with almost religious fervor.

And she was singing. Singing a hymn to a God of War. Her strikes and parries set to the beat of the hymn.

"A Sister of Battle," The Imperial Commander whispered in worshipful reverence.

He gaped stupidly at the terrible amazon carving through enemies that the other day seemed set to overwhelm them.

Then there was another, a crossbow singing in counterpoint to the paladin's unrelenting attacks. Her bow shots shattered bones and pierced hearts. At one point a creature, possibly a liche, took to the field. The Sister turned a cold gaze that literally burned with righteous vengeance and his magic power snuffed out like a candle. Robbing the fiend of magical defense, she put a crossbow bolt through its skull.

Then the Commander saw their foes. As they fell to her blade and bolt, they rose again but this time they rushed to assault the army they'd once fought for.

Finally he saw him, a small man, practically a boy to judge by his youthful looks, clad in cleric's armor and gesturing. But it was not healing spells he was casting. The commander realized that the cleric was the source of the undead.

A necromancer? ... But why was he fighting FOR them?

The Imperial Commander watched as a demonic beast rushed The Sister of Battle with a longsword who seemed to draw in the violence and death around her and be made stronger by it. The creature raised its arm to strike but stopped, a ghostly hand clutched its throat paralyzing it.

The Sister whirled her two handed sword around to slice into the creature. As happened before the beast fell to the muddy earth but then rose again to join the fight against its former allies. The Sister then raised her voice singing loudly and seemingly led an army of skeletons and ghouls against the force that had seemed all but invincible seconds ago.

The Imperial Commander rose to his feet and yelled for the remnants of his men who were just as slack jawed in their amazement as he himself was.

They drew their weapons and yelled entries for God's protection as they rushed forward.

"LOUDER!" the Cleric yells.

"The Gods Protect!"

"Not with your mouths," the Cleric cries out, "with your hearts -- with your souls."

"THE GODS PROTECT! ... THE GODS PROTECT! ... THE GODS PROTECT!"

The commander watched agape as the unwinnable battle turned just as quickly

"The Gods Protect," the Commander whispered

"The Gods Protect but My Goddess Punishes ..." he heard the cleric whispering as he caressed the sigil of Loviatar on his chest as one would a lover's exposed flesh, "mostly for her own divine amusement but occasionally, if I'm very lucky, for mine."

"Why does a cleric of death and pain fight with us?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"But there is no personal benefit for you."

"Aside from the guild rewards for completing a S-rank job," the Cleric answered while ticking reasons off with his fingers, "the riches to be found in the dungeon where their base is and the look on some lucky Imperial soldier's face when he finds out what Eve and Kristina are packing. Ain't nobody protecting them from that."

8

9

8

The sun crested the hills bringing with it a celebratory air. The troops hugged each other and the farmers congratulated themselves. Max watched the perimeter, or more accurately his grisly army of undead and skeletons trudged the perimeter of the small town while he mentally encouraged them to stay away from the still unnerved farmers and soldiers.

A man in ornate armor approached him, the commander of the Imperial detachment of soldiers, or at least the few that had survived. At his side was a young farmer who was wringing his hands.

"Please sir, my wife was taken, could you please rescue her?"

"Taken? When exactly?" Max asked, "and who are you?"

"My name is Matthew good Sir Cleric," the young farmer explained, "she was taken a day or so before, I wanted to go that day but the demon army was besieging us and you effectively changed that."

"Did you see who took her?"

"They looked like demi-humans, the muscular bodies of men and the heads and shoulders of horses."

"Mizuki! Your wife and the others were taken as breeding stock."

"Breeding," Matthew fearfully asked, "breeding for what?"

"They'll give birth to a new generation of Mizuki."

"I'm not sure I've encountered their kind before they're related to centaurs I believe?" The Imperial Commander mused thoughtfully.

"Mizuki are centaurs in reverse, Max explained, "but do not make the mistake of comparing them. Indeed the two tribes hate and despise each other."

"What's the difference? The nervous farmer asked.

"Centaurs are more evolved,'' Max answered, "or at least they like to think they are."

"Centaurs are honorable fighters, '' the commander supplied, "they have strict standards of conduct and culture."

Max nodded, "Mizuki are more feral and tribal in nature, they also seem to love working for whatever dark lord is currently sowing their wild oats."

"Then we must rescue them before they're lost to us!" The farmer shouted

"You haven't figured it out yet have you?" Max sighed, "The women? Their attackers joined in the assault on your little farming community. They were basically alone for almost nine hours."

"They're being held captive," Matthew insisted, "Surely that would explain, ...they're getting used?"

"-and abused?" Max replied, "Yes some of them,"

"I wouldn't try it when I had a full squad and that was days ago." The Commander whispered.

"Surely you'll want to at least rescue your own men?" Matthew asked the Commander.

"What's wrong?"

"We sent a squad to scout the caves when we arrived only one man came back." The Commander replied, "and he didn't last long."

"I had hoped that you'd be motivated since one of your Sisters was with them." The farmer explained with hope in his voice.

"A sister?"

"She was dressed as your friends ... clad in red leather armor."

"Another Repentant!"

"She joined us some time ago," the Commander replied, "She leaps into danger quickly enough though her attitude towards death and killing is a little ... disturbing, but she's been as useful an addition to my squad just as you and your friends."

Max hopped off the wall he'd been perched on and started striding towards the townhall from which sounds of revelry and more suspicious noises could be heard. Eve and Kristina's handiwork no doubt

Access to a pain loving cum-slut especially one with divinely enhanced stamina certainly took the edge off their ceaseless compulsion to fuck anything that moved but didn't remove the simple human desire for sexual release. A farming community this size had plenty of strapping young farm boys just bold enough to think themselves a match for the amazon's near superhuman virility.

"Come on, we're going inside." Max announced

Max gestured towards the grisly army and saluted them. The corpses knelt on the ground in a grisly parody of respect which Max returned. They moaned in response as the mystical strings tethering them to unlife were gently severed. Then he gestured again, sending a beast of flame that consumed each body.

"Why would you do that?" The Commander asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"They're dead!"

"They fought for me, I'm thankful for that,"Max explained, "the least I can do is make sure their bodies are disposed of respectfully."

"That's more compassion than I'd expect from a necromancer." The man snorted.

"That's less compassion than I'd expect from a soldier and leader of men," Max snarkily replied.

The Imperial Commander frowned and his eyes flashed as if thinking about responding but a quick glance at the burning funeral pyre clearly made him think twice about the argument.

The trio entered the bunkhouse and found Eve and Kristina sitting with young men, ...well Kristina was sitting with hers. Eve had already pulled her companion onto her lap and was just casually bouncing him there. From the look in his eyes he had apparently figured out what the hard mass under his ass was. Unfortunately Eve's strong arms kept him from running away while she whispered in his ears.

The newly awakened sadist in Max took a certain obscene joy in his nervous smile.

"There's a chance we can rescue another Sister of Battle if we go to the dungeon where their captives are held," He told them.

"Who's there and how were they taken?" Kristina asked.

"Another Repentant, and from the Commander's description of her, a Death Cultist."

"Is she a blood sucker or cannibal?" Eve snorted.

"Couldn't say but she's still human for now though a day and a half riding horse-cock might've changed that."

Eve and Kristina stood quickly, their playmates dismissed. Eve's scuttled away with a laughable mix of relief and disappointment.

The Sisters Repentant and the Death Cleric prepared for the trip to the dungeon. Matthew insisted on joining them and after a promise to do what he was told when he was told, he was allowed.

They trekked up to the dungeon. As they traveled, Max engaged the young farmer in conversation.

"Aisha is the love of my life, everyone in the village knew her and loved her," Matthew explained.

"Well obviously not everyone," Max chuckled, "it's the rare village that doesn't have that one person everyone gossips about."

"I didn't listen to the village harpies, they were jealous of her looks and youth." Matthew insisted.

"I'm guessing their husbands loved that."

"Aisha, the men talked about her behind her back she eventually realized I was the one who cared about her. Held her hand and took care of her when they ... I took care of her."

Max nodded and shrugged. "Well you seem like a good guy, sometimes being a good guy isn't enough for some people but that's their problem," He replied.

They reached a cave-like entrance. Kristina noted the signs there were a great many creatures inside. Moving along the dark labyrinthine corridors they heard wet sounds in the darkness.

"If we go in there it'll be grim." Max said to Matthew.

"You'll see things you can't unsee and your wife," Kristina explained, "...well you may not recognize her."

"I can be strong," Matthew whispered, "...for her sake."

They pushed open a huge door and entered the vast space. In the middle of the room was an ornately sculpted arch surrounded by pillars glowing with arcane purple light. The pillars seemed to be feeding power to the portal.

At the foot of each were piles of broken bodies while both genders were clearly represented in the pile of corpses there were many more males than females

The females were there however, Mizuki cavorted in an orgy of deviance. The women were being fed huge cocks.

Many were choking on shafts of meat that seemed obscenely huge. But that was nothing compared to how the others were doing.

Women screamed as cocks the length and thickness of a man's forearm railed them repeatedly. The screams and cries however were not of pain but a twisted kind of joy.

Max watched Matthew, his lips flushed white and his fist clenched. He saw a look that was familiar.

"Believe me Dude, been there; done that," Max replied.

"Aisha?" Matthew asked fearfully. He was staring at a young woman enthusiastically sucking a huge cock.

"Well there's something you don't see everyday," Max chuckled.

"You're good but THAT is commitment," Eve whispered.