Embrace of the Goddess Ch. 04

New life seemed to take over Lei as she used the last of her strength to sit up and bury her face in Prim's pussy, licking eagerly for each drop of blood.

"I'll take that as a yes." Prim squatted, pressing Lei's head back to the cavern floor, and slowly brought her knees to either side of Lei's head, queening the rookie. She grabbed a fistful of Lei's hair and lifted up, bringing the woman's blood-soaked lips deep into her pussy. "Drink," commanded Prim.

All at once, Lei stopped. She didn't lick. She didn't drink. Prim held her prey's head close to her pussy, but Lei didn't respond. "Stupid bitch," muttered Prim. "Fucking dying on me." She reached inside herself, into the well of magic she wielded as a paladin. Weeks ago, she would have felt the warm embrace of Azora protecting her and invigorating her. Then she would have channeled that energy and power into her will, into the task at hand. But there was no warmth now. There was a sticky cold, a chilling doom. There was only Maloth.

But the power still responded. Prim glowed with a rich purple, and she found her strength bubbling up. "Drink," she commanded, and Maloth made her will manifest. The limp body of Lei obeyed, and she drank, licking at Prim's pussy, eagerly trying to get each drop. The spell didn't specify if Lei were to drink blood or the slick juices flowing from Prim, but it didn't matter. Lei drank both. She drank eagerly, unable to stop until she fulfilled the commands of the spell, even if she was a corpse for now.

Prim moaned and rocked back and forth. Lei's tongue was clumsy, and the wound stung, but it was still better than her time with Iriel. She'd fucked a farm girl in town, but this was better still. She found she preferred to be on top, to be the one doing the fucking, the riding, the owning. This was something Iriel would never permit her, but it was how she served Maloth, and her dark goddess delighted in Prim's temper, in her hunger, in her lack of self-control, in her greedy desire to subjugate.

Prim rocked back and forth, putting her weight on Lei's face, grinding her pussy deeper into Lei. If it were making love, Prim would care about Lei's pleasure. If it were sex, she'd care if was crushing Lei with her weight and rocking. But it was neither of those. It was fucking, and as such, Lei's preferences were forfeit. Only Maloth's desires mattered now.

***

Iriel

Zara pulled her black and sticky hands out of the pool and turned to Iriel, nodding. "It is done, Mistressss," she hissed.

"Well done," said Iriel. She turned to the crowd of acolytes and servants that had started to cluster around the waterfall at the center of the Abbey. They watched in fascination and horror as a dozen naiads rose from the dark waters, no longer blue and translucent, but now black and inky like Zara. From here, they were going to go to the gardens and turn the dryads as well. All the nymphs of the Abbey would be transformed like Zara, brought into the service of Maloth, the service of Iriel.

"Don't be afraid," shouted Iriel. Only some of the onlookers turned their attention from the abominations rising from the water to their High Priestess. "This is a transcendence for the nymphs," she continued, using magic to raise and project her voice to the corridors all around them. Almost the entire Abbey could hear her now, and those that couldn't would be reading the mandate shortly.

"Zara and I have discovered a new form for the nymphs, not one based on nature, not based on the pagan and heathen practices of old religion, of shamanism and nature-worship. These forms are their spiritual selves. Yes, they are strange to behold, as the spirit is formless and nebulous. But they have relinquished their connection to the world, and they have devoted themselves to the goddess, as we at the Abbey have pledged ourselves to do. They rise today, no longer our servants, but now our sisters in redeeming the world, in spreading the goddess's light to each corner of creation."

There was some mixed muttering throughout the crowd, but they didn't appear relaxed. Iriel sighed. One of the naiads rose out of the pool and oozed like a snail through the crowd. Two human acolytes both shrieked as the nymph approached and scrambled away. The rest of the crowd made a clear path, giving the nymph plenty of distance as it moved past them and on to its duties in the Abbey.

"Are you not acolytes of Azora?" rebuked Iriel. "Are you not all charged with the love of all living things in your heart?" She summoned a spell to her fingertips. It couldn't be powerful, or they would notice. It would have to be subtle. Not control, just a way to help them relax. A way to make them more receptive to this confusing reality.

"Este," she whispered, and thin lines of light shot from her to everyone around her. They were no more than grey-ish silver blues, almost invisible to the eye, but as they struck each acolyte, they instantly relaxed, releasing their muscles, losing their looks of horror and confusion, as the nymphs made their way through the crowd.

"These are our sisters," she said, again projecting her voice via magic. "All they seek is to join us in worship. Perhaps they do not have the beauty of the angels, but they are lower beings. You fault them for their impurity? Look to your own hearts first." Iriel's voice sharpened as a mother disappointed in her daughters. "You will not judge them so low and yourself so high. You ought to look to our goddess to ... to ..."

A strange thought struck Iriel. More, hissed Maloth in her mind. Bring me more.

"Yes," whispered Iriel to herself. "Yes."

She looked up and summoned one of the captains of her guard. "Tell Orilana to double the guard at the Chapel in the coming days."

"Yes, Your Eminence," said the Aasimar woman.

"Now," snapped Iriel.

"As you wish, Your Eminence." The woman charged off through the crowd to find Orilana.

Iriel spread her arms and the light of the cavern dimmed. A pale silver light bloomed around her, washing over the acolytes and the nymphs, over the paladins and the servants. "I have a message from the goddess," she shouted, her voice enraptured. A dash more of magic, and there was a faint choir of angels singing around her. They mingled with the gasps of those watching her, and she felt all eyes on her.

"You have betrayed the virtues of the goddess," boomed Iriel. Her voice changed, layered with the voice of Maloth, but instead of the cruel hissing and grating, Maloth's voice was sweet and melodious as Azora's. "You have traded vanity for community. You have traded pride for fellowship. As such, you must all spend time in repentance. Each acolyte must spend an hour in the chapel in the coming week, alone. There will be no exceptions." The final words of the message rang around the corridor, echoing over and over until it was a whisper lingering in the ears of each observer. When her reverie was over, Iriel collapsed, her chest heaving as though she'd gone through a great ordeal. Dozens of acolytes flocked to her, checking to see if she was alright. She held up a hand, keeping them back, and spoke again to the crowd.

"The goddess has spoken. See to it that her will is obeyed, that we will repent for how we have judged our sisters. In the meantime, examine your hearts. Befriend the nymphs. Look past their forms to the beauty of their spirits, as the goddess does for each of you."

She lowered her hands and stopped the booming of her voice. Some of the acolytes hesitated for a moment, waiting to see what else she would do, but then they quickly turned to each other and chattered, whispering about what all this meant and what they were going to do. Iriel stepped away from the crowd and smiled, proud of her clever thinking.

Well done, hissed Maloth. Tonight I will reward you.

"Thank you, goddess," whispered Iriel.

Bringing them to me won't be enough, said Maloth. Some will resist.

"Like Orilana?"

There are many as devout as her. Not all are as proud or vain as you.

Iriel blushed at the compliment. "I'll need more power to corrupt them."

I'll need more worshipers to gather more power.

"Yes, Goddess."

Iriel took a deep breath. The ecstasy of pleasing her goddess took the wind out of her more than the charade earlier. She felt hungry and horny. She needed someone to take into her room and fuck stupid. She didn't even want to convert another. She just wanted to fuck them till they suffocated on her pussy. Surely Maloth would indulge her a little sacrifice for all her hard work.

There is work to do, hissed Maloth. Reward later.

Iriel sighed. Always a High Priestess, and never a Whore. It's too bad really. The fear in the room? The need to please? It was intoxicating. Nothing turned her on like it. But Maloth was right. Her goddess was always right. There was work to do. She had converted so few. Hundreds of lives still needed to be bent under Maloth's will. She needed something to speed things up, some deeper magic.

Iriel smirked. She needed Fella.

Iriel spotted the curvy Aasimar talking to another acolyte, seemingly comforting her. Fella was soft and healthy, the ideal woman to be a barmaid or the mother of twelve little children running around her delicious legs. Instead, she had devoted her life to Azora, and few rivaled her for her talent in wielding magic.

"Sister Fella!" shouted Iriel and made her way through the crowd. Her friend looked up and smiled, saying something final to the acolyte she was speaking to and then dismissing her.

"High Priestess," she said with a smirk and a bow. Her long brown braid swung as she swept her body and arm aside as though speaking to a Duchess or Queen. Iriel laughed. They always found the formalities a bit strange between them, but around other people, their titles prevented rumors of jealousy or favoritism.

"How may I serve you?" she asked, her playful smile still on her lips.

"Remember the issue I've been dealing with lately?"

"The nymphs?"

"No. Come." Iriel grabbed Fella's shoulder and turned her, walking her friend away from the crowd. "The debauchery," whispered Iriel when she thought they were far enough away.

"Oh," Fella's soft brown eyes hardened and narrowed. Even the coronet around her head dimmed from its rich gold. "Yes."

"I have an idea on how to fight it."

"Truly?"

"Verily." Iriel smiled again despite herself. Fella's language alternated from that of a kindly matron to a royal courtier. She read too many romance novels. "But I need your help and the help of ... uh ... someone less ..."

"Beautiful?" teased Fella.

"Squeamish."

Fella's brow furrowed. "You mean less wholesome."

"Virginal?"

Fella huffed and crossed her arms. "You know nothing about -"

"I was there when you touched yourself and then fasted for a month after it from -"

Fella grabbed Iriel's arm and twisted. "Not so loud!" she hissed.

"See?" Iriel smirked. "Squeamish."

"I'm not virginal," said Fella. "You should ask Mola what -"

Iriel shook her head. "You don't need to prove anything." She put her hands onto Fella's, calming her friend. She couldn't use any magic to help smooth things out. Even the slightest incantation would alert Fella. Paladins were easy to manipulate. Clerics with expertise like Fella were something else entirely.

"I have an idea for a spell," said Iriel. "Well, more of a rune. An artifact really. I need your help creating it, and I need absolute discretion and secrecy."

"What did you have in mind?"

"First, who is your most promising pupil?"

"Why?"

Iriel sighed and cocked an eyebrow. "I need someone less squeamish."

Fella sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine." She let go of Iriel's' hand. "You're looking for Farryn."

"Farryn?"

"Farryn, she's an elf that -"

"I know her. You trust her?"

"Not as much as Mola, but -"

"Not Mola. We need expertise in spell crafting."

Fella paused. She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking to herself, then seemed to come to a conclusion when she released her bottom lip and nodded. "You want Farryn."

"Send for her. Now."

Fella nodded, closed her eyes, and began to mutter the incantation. Her throat glowed a tender pink, and then she spoke her message: "Come to me. I'm by the main spring. Come now."

She opened her eyes and the pink faded from her throat. "Done. Now what is this spell."

Iriel took a deep breath. "You've done hundreds of surgeries, yes?"

"Sure."

"Any piercings?"

Fella froze and arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't call that a surgery."

"What if you were pierced with something that had a rune on it?"

"A spell rune?"

"Yes. You can't put runes on a body without a tattoo, and those are forbidden by Azora. But piercings aren't."

"You want to etch a spell rune onto a piercing and then -"

"Yes."

Fella thought for a second. "It could work," she admitted. "What spell did you have in mind?"

"Well, we'll tell people it's for protection." Iriel rounded the corner from the spring, out of the sight of the public, and Fella followed.

"We'll tell them?" asked Fella. "What will it really be for?"

Fella rounded the corner and Iriel pounced on her, pressing her lips harshly against Fella's and pushing her against the stone wall. As she kissed her friend, darkness wrapped around them, thick and tangible like velvet curtains, shielding them from eyes. To Iriel's pleasant surprise, Fella didn't fight the kiss. She sighed into it, parting her lips, and the smoke of Maloth poured into Fella, filling her. It wasn't enough to transform her as Iriel would never risk that so in the public, but it would bring Fella to her line of thinking. It was a beautiful first step.

Iriel broke the kiss, leaving Fella breathless. Her friend was gasping, her eyes closed, but when she opened them, her cow-like brown eyes were a beautiful shade of purple, dark and lovely.

"It will really be for obedience," said Iriel. She reached out and stroked Fella's cheek. Her friend purred and eased her hand into her friend's touch. "A bit like what you just felt, but much stronger. Less intoxicating," Fella smiled, "but more potent."

"It's possible," said Fella. "Where do you want the piercing?"

"As close to the heart as possible." Iriel reached out and groped her friend's tits. "I was thinking the nipples."

Fella closed her eyes and hummed. "Sounds yummy. I will -" Her eyes widened. "She's coming."

"Disguise your eyes," snapped Iriel. She turned the corner, stepping into the public eye, as Farryn approached. She was a wood elf with thick and fiery red hair that she attempted to tame with clips and ties, though it refused. She was wiry and lithe, more of a stick like most wood elves are. She lacked the glorious tits and hips that Fella had in plenty, but Iriel supposed she couldn't fuck every acolyte she bent to her will. Surely someone in this Abbey would find Farryn more than merely pretty, though pretty she was with rich blue eyes and a narrow but kind face.

"Your Eminence," she said and bowed.

"This is your strongest pupil?" asked Iriel to Fella.

Farryn looked up, her eyes wide from the compliment, but then looked back at the floor, continuing her bow but adding a blush.

"Yes, Your Eminence," said Fella. She stepped out of the darkness and stood next to Iriel. Each step was slow, her feet made an arcing path as they lifted and glided over the stone. Each step was fluid, seductive, and easy.

Iriel ached to fuck her.

Focus, hissed Maloth.

"This is the most powerful cleric you know?" asked Iriel.

"Other than you."

"Good. We'll test the runes on her first."

Farryn looked up, shocked. "High Priestess?"

Iriel smiled and stepped forward, taking Farryn's hand in hers. "How would you like to be part of an experiment that could save the Abbey?"