A Gift of The Goddess

Eve rubbed her protective codpiece moaning as she looked at Max like a hungry lioness eyes it's next sumptuous meal.

"Let's get you ready for the road young man," Kristina laughed while licking her lips, her fingers clutching at something unseen.

"There's so many things to do to make you ready for the riding you'll be doing." Eve sighed.

"I've never ridden before, I'm looking forward to the experience." Max politely replied.

"So are we Little Cleric, so are we!"

In hindsight, Max would eventually wonder why it took him so long to speculate why all their preparations seemed more about obtaining various brands of ointments and lubricants than pack beasts or riding mounts.

8

9

8

For the next few days Max's innocence and naivete about the world beyond his books and studies fell away.

He and his new friends traveled deep into the wilderness on what Sister Eve called a low-stakes milk-run to test their new partnership.

Max was under no illusion that the test was mostly for him. Would he overextend himself in prideful attempts to show off or would he make rookie mistakes like forgetting that essentially he was a backup for Kristina and Eve both.

Sister Eve was a powerful paladin and Sister Kristina a combination of warrior monk and witch hunter within their sacred order.

The women were fascinated both by how much he already knew about them and their world and his willingness to learn more. They willingly added to his knowledge base.

The Sisterhood maintained giant monolithic fortresses in which young girls, and it was ALWAYS girls, received training in the arts and artistry of war and conflict.

Viewed with equal parts fear and lust, the presence of a squadron of Sisters meant that war was going to be insane. A common tactic was to hire a squad of Sisters to defend a building or town. The response when anyone tried to capture that building was usually nothing short of scorched Earth. Indeed the story was The Demon Lord's troops had attempted to raze a small village and Eve and Kristina were sent to return the favor, decimating whole armies just the two of them on their way to their eventually fateful encounter with the Demon General Cyndia.

At some point Eve had adopted the garb of The Sisters Repentant, terrifying close-combat melee warriors dedicated to gaining absolution from the Gods of War for breaking their oaths, for even war gods had rules and the breaking of those rules regardless of the reason, was unforgivable heresy.

Eve and Kristina's transgressions appeared to be surviving their fight against The Succubus Queen. In death, the demon had cursed her executioners. In theory Eve and Kristina should have sought out relief from the curse or failing that, some glorious last stand, preferably against overwhelming odds. Instead they'd continued to fight, using their cursed strength and power.

Kristina was also a trained Kensei monk, her frankly terrifying martial arts skill set paled in comparison to her truly rare and intimidating powers of observation and situational analysis.

She could quickly and precisely determine weaknesses and pressure points In seemingly any creature they encountered.

Sometimes it seemed like Kristina allowed Eve to enter battle and soak up damage while the Inquisitor passively observed.

These moments, a terrifying greatsword that was as long as she was tall in her hand and the enemy tearing at her, Sister Eve fought like a berserker, shrugging off wounds that would cripple lesser men. Eve wore a look of lustful joy. Her orgasmic yells and cries during the fighting were a disturbing counterpoint to the screams of enemies hacked to pieces or worse set ablaze by her paladin spells. The sounds she made wouldn't have been out of place in a brothel, one catering to those who saw pain and pleasure as different faces of the same coin.

Then suddenly Kristina would call to her partner to try a random attack against a seemingly meaningless target. All too often the attack would score a mortal wound or at least a brutal one that would leave an opponent stunned or more often fleeing battle limping and staggering.

Kristina spoke with Max in a friendly way, she asked about his training and practice. She asked for demonstration of his abilities and actively encouraged him to burn mana against the minor beasts they hunted for food.

Max felt a little ridiculous using Ray of Enfeeblement or sense dampening curses against rabbits, fish and other forest creatures. He felt considerably less ridiculous when in their next fight against a low level manticore, she directed him to cast the same spells as its spiked tail lashed against Eve's armor while evading her greatsword with its cruelly serrated edge.

The flurry of whip-like blows from the tail slowed down and Sister Eve struck a sound blow that staggered the monster leaving it open for a finishing strike by Kristina.

Max tasted cooked manticore thigh that night. Having a hand, however small, in bringing the creature down made the meat taste more succulent than anything he'd eaten before.

He occasionally inquired about their shared curse. The question was usually deflected or avoided. He didn't get the sense they were ashamed or upset so he concluded they felt he lacked the power to relieve their suffering so why burden him with details he couldn't change?

Instead of being hurt by their implied lack of faith in his largely untested abilities, he doubled down. When their dungeon crawl stopped at a room filled floor to ceiling with books, some containing arcane and lost magical knowledge, Max asked if they'd give him some time enough to study them.

He could certainly revoke simple curses but the power behind THIS one was tremendous and the fact that subconsciously they were benefiting from the additional power and vitality provided made simple revocation tricky.

He learned divine beings powerful enough they could remove it might balk at opposing even a dead minion of The Demon Lord, assuming they weren't themselves being served BY said minion or even The Demon Lord personally.

He engaged Kristina with questions that he hoped appealed to the scholar within. She seemed excited to indulge him.

Indeed one evening he awaked after falling asleep reading about curse magic. He overheard Kristina and Eve talking quietly.

"How much longer are we going to wait?" Eve whined.

"Every time I see him face down in a book I know he's reading to impress me I want to, ....ugh, so badly." Kristina replied.

"I'm actively pleasuring myself while thinking of him."

"Eina earned her finder's fee this time."

"That said, I think he's close to something, I'm honestly as eager to hear what he has to say as I am to feed his femboy stomach."

"He's superior to Roland in almost every way that counts."

"Save one."

"True."

"Of course he'll have little use for THAT by the time we're finished with him."

"I'd still love to see him use it."

"On Roland?"

"Oh God yes, watching that pretty boy sucking a femboy cock?"

"Or taking it in his treacherous ass?"

"Now you've made me horny."

"Please? Made you? He's probably lucky you didn't shoot him so full of cream he'd qualify as a stuffed pastry after he helped with the manticore."

"Me? Tell me all that studying isn't so you can picture what he'll look like as a femboy shaped cock-sleeve."

"It isn't all about that. He's got interesting ideas, interesting enough I'm almost want to fuck him for his mind, not just his his femboy ass."

"Soon?"

"Soon."

898

The trio emerged from the dungeon and set out along a trail through a verdant forest. They stumbled across a merchant caravan. Or at least that's what they called themselves.

Max sensed something wrong an hour into traveling together, the more experienced Kristina and Eve picked up on it right away.

Slavers!

Kristina and Sister Eve would later reveal that their own intention has been to let the caravan go but follow discreetly.

Unfortunately for them Max was not as experienced as they and the thought of human trafficking repulsed and disgusted him.

He confronted the slavers angrily and a fight broke out.

Well calling it a fight would be laughable.

Kristina was a trained martial artist who barely required touching an opponent to disable or even kill them.

Eve was a Sister of Battle, and had long ago sworn an Oath of Vengeance against those who profited from human misery.

The slavers died quickly.

They freed captives and learned that the shipment had been returning home. The survivors assured the trio there were more people at the base awaiting their own sad fate as merchandise to be trafficked to the highest bidder.

All the slavers were dead but their documents revealed where the rest could be found.

Max apologized for reacting before thinking about the possible consequences. Then he proposed an alternative plan that seemed to excite his companions.

He'd pretend to be a captive, dressed in girls clothing he'd seem innocent enough.

Eve watched as he stripped his priestly vestments to change into one of the dresses that were meant for the slaves. He even put on make-up.

"You seem surprisingly comfortable wearing these things?"

"Well comfort isn't exactly the word I'd use." Max chuckled, "I spent time in a house of ill repute. Boys my size and shape were often given old girls clothes if no boys clothes in our sizes were available."

"You grew up wearing girls' clothing?"

"Well a night dress is a night dress regardless of gender and small clothes, even women's, are shockingly comfortable."

"That's remarkably progressive." Eve replied, "especially given you're being a cleric."

Max shrugged, "The Goddess gave me a body that's not overflowing in masculine features. I can either whine about it or make use of it on the rare occasions that it proves useful."

"That kind of confidence is extremely attractive."

Max blushed and looked away so Eve couldn't see which is why he didn't catch the look of lecherous hunger that she directed at him.

"So this brothel of yours," Eve asked quietly, "they oftentimes found inventive ways to supplement the expense of caring for their ... younger employees didn't they?"

Max paused, "I was one of the lucky ones, once Matron found out I could read and write I was no longer suitable for certain more ... physically demanding tasks, once she learned I knew numbers well enough to not only keep accurate books but cook them as well she saw me as a valued resource worth maintaining."

"And your cleric training?"

"Purchased for a song by an old priest."

Eve's anger flared, "A priest you say, he wouldn't still be alive and a convenient distance from here?"

"It wasn't like that," Max explained quickly, "at least not with HIM."

"Really...?"

"He used to be an exorcist, but had to retire from it when age caught up to him. He genuinely needed an extra pair of hands and eyes. Had me given special clerical training when I displayed magical potential so I could assist him In his duties."

"Special training?"

"Basically you spend several days and nights meditating and contemplating The Divine."

"I've heard tales of this," Eve mused thoughtfully, "clerics and paladins who seal themselves away for days or weeks but emerge with tremendous power or skills."

Max nodded.

"So that's why you snapped." Eve replied, "memories of the past."

"Like I said," Max drawled, "I was lucky, a sharp mind and quick wit will get you out of most problems and for the problems they can't solve? Well I'm nowhere near as proficient as you Sister Eve but after that first time I threw a fireball at something by accident you can be damned sure I figured out how to do it whenever I wanted."

"Then you should already know that a well-timed defensive spell can be just as dangerous as any attack spell." Eve lectured, "and has the advantage of not upsetting any deities that frown on harming humans, ...even if they are degenerate flesh peddlers."

"I'll remember Sister Eve."

"You've been very brave," Eve whispered, "when this is over, you're going to get a big reward."

"WE'RE going to get," Max politely corrected, "we're a team and everything is shared between us."

"Oh Yes you're right cleric," Eve moaned, "a very big and thick reward."

8

9

8

The bored gate guards didn't see it coming. The carriage rolled up with a cloaked driver.

"Where's the merchandise?" One of the thugs asked.

The driver gestured behind and the guards looked at young thing shivering in a slim fitted silken gown that showed enough leg to hint at the treasures beneath.

"I thought we had more coming?"

"Surprise Imperial Army Inspection," the driver replied gruffly, "someone hasn't been getting their bribes lately."

The guard rolled his eyes and waved them through.

The carriage rolled to a stop. The new slave suddenly panicked, leaping to the ground and running towards the gate. The driver's buggy whip lashed out entangling the slaves legs and feet sending them crashing to the ground.

A fat man hauled the slave up by the arm, grasping it hard and dragging the slave towards the dormitories.

"That's where you're keeping the rest?" The driver asked as his partner, also cloaked, climbed out of the cab.

The fat man stopped, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I don't remember you two. Where's Marco?"

"If Marco was driving he might've been one of the people I roasted with Divine Fire but if he was one of the guards then my fellow Sister here stopped his heart.

"Now Sister Eve lying is a sin," Kristina snickered, "I didn't stop their hearts, I stopped their breathing. It takes considerably longer to die and I would know as I stayed to watch it happen."

"Gods, they're Sisters of Battle.*

"Kill them both, catch the slave."

Eve smirked, "You have things backwards, the one you should have worried about WAS the slave.'

The fat man turned around and saw Max standing in the middle of the camp, eyes aglow with green spectral flame.

A sickly green fog rolled across the camp with Max at its epicenter. The men in the camp started to choke and cough, puking their guts out, eyes reddened and filled with tears.

Death was almost a mercy.

Max opened the dormitories releasing the captives.

"She was right?" One former captive gushed.

"Who was?" Max asked gently.

"Another captive," an emaciated woman explained, "a woman of faith wounded and taken in a bandit attack days ago. She took a long time to pass but she didn't lose faith that her goddess would aid or avenge her."

Max went into the dorm room and walked down the aisles of simple beds. In the last was a corpse, several days dead.

He knelt by its bed and examined the body, the armor it wore and symbol clutched in her fist.

Clerics in training, especially if the person training them expects them to fight demons learn of the pantheon of deities their actions might draw the attention of and Max recognized to whom the dead girl had directed her last prayers.

"Oh Mistress of Pain, I come before you not as the groveling worm I should be but mourning the loss of one of your Sisters in Torment. While I lack the strength to give you my agony, know that this unworthy one dealt painful agony to those responsible for your servant's death. I'll commit her body to the ground and her vestments to one of your holy places."

Sister Eve entered the bunkhouse and saw him praying in front of the armor clad corpse.

You're really going to just carry around her equipment and armor, no offence but it's leagues better than the stuff you're already wearing, Hell that dress has better protection." Eve commented.

"She was a servant of Loviatar, I'm a servant of Mystria, I can't imagine a greater divide then between a goddess of pain and one of life and reincarnation."

"Fine, we'll split the difference, just wear it until we reach this Loviatar's closest shrine."

"That would be the House of Pain," Max explained, "still it is nice armor and you're right. It's better than mine."

"Armor is like a night dress and small clothes, the protection it provides is of greater importance than who it's meant to protect." Eve replied.

Max looked at her equipment pack and sighed, "She's got some nice stuff that shouldn't go to waste."

Kristina and Eve organized the former captives giving them directions back to the main road.

Eventually Max joined them walking in his new armor.

Eve had been preparing herself to feign praise for the armor but it was as if the ensemble had been meant for Max. You had to look hard for the subtle hints he was wearing armor intended for a female.

"You look impressive." Kristina laughed, "the fit is almost custom."

"I'll be walking funny for a few days."

"Why?"

"She had some, ...jewelry intended for use by male acolytes if she wasn't carrying the symbols of her order, I'd know she belonged to the Maiden of Pain just for that alone."

"I see no necklace or finger rings."

"That's not where you wear it."

"You mean?"

"Yes."

"And you put it on?"

"With an ease that's mildly disturbing, it's part of the set according to the literature she possessed as Loviatar takes pleasure in my torment; the power of her favor flows into the armor and thus into me."

"Any idea why she was carrying around such a thing?"

"I've absolutely no idea but hopefully it's causing me enough discomfort to satisfy the Scourge Mistress."

"What about your Mystria?"

"Seems OK for now, as for the Willing Whip, Ironically the guilt and shame of even speaking with a Goddess of Pain nevermind wearing her vestments regardless of quality only serve to catch her attention, shame and masochism are big things with her."

But what could a benevolent priest have to be ashamed of? You ask.

Max started to notice his companions were strong and attractive women. Had they always had such curvy hips and sweet looking asses?

As their journey continued Max struggled with his rising lusts. Everything he tried, mantras, prayers and even bathing in cold water failed spectacularly to relieve his aching need.

Finally shame forced him from the camp one night to find a quiet place where he dropped his pants, grabbed his manhood and stroked frantically trying to mastubate.

He closed his eyes and tried not to picture his companions, he tried to banish their amazonian bodies from his lust filled thoughts.

"Such a reaction to a harmless fantasy that's too funny," A female voice whispered sensuously, "so eager to play yet so reluctant to admit it."

He saw her then, a voyeuristic and ghostly figure just on the edge of his perception. A blonde haired female dressed in studded leather armor that encased her athletic body head to toe.

She watched him with an amused fascination and for some reason he felt her amusement like warmth, filling him.

"So much agony, so much potential. You were wasted on charity and goodness."

He stroked his shaft and felt excitement rising towards a climax but annoyingly he couldn't reach that cusp; it remained tantalizingly just beyond his reach.

"My power is like your pleasure, mine to bestow at my whims." The ghostly deity hissed.

He stroked more, trying to reach climax but as close as he felt, he couldn't quite get there.

"Goddess can I have no satisfaction?" Max whispered, "no release?"

"And now you begin to understand." The Goddess of Pain hissed.

Max looked down at his manhood, or more accurately the ring that now adorned it as well as the symbol of Loviatar glowing a malevolent crimson.

"And your companions," Loviatar laughed, "cursed to lose themselves to carnal lust and insanity yet your own unique situation not only promises relief for them but power to me Oh yes, this is ripe for opportunity."