Embrace of the Goddess Ch. 05

"Not exactly."

Iriel laughed. "I've seen your fantasies. It's nowhere near chaste. Mola likes to be tied up?"

Fella gasped. She struggled at her restraints but they held. She doubted she could pull off a spell with Iriel watching so closely. Of all the things Iriel had subjected her to this past week, this was the worst. She had made her complicit in evil, but at no point did Fella feel as used and degraded as she did now. Iriel could make her a puppet, but at least she'd have some shred of dignity as it was done against her will but —

"The issue is shame," said Iriel. "You must know that the Sisters of Maloth do not call your fantasies debauchery." She smirked. "We call it healthy sisterly love."

"That's disgusting."

"See? All that self-loathing in your voice. Who put it there? Not me. Not Maloth. It was Azora who taught you to hate yourself. That's how she controls you. But in Maloth there is freedom. There is total acceptance of who we are and what we want."

"I won't —"

Iriel held up a hand. "Spare me the pious speeches. If you believe Azora's way is best, then your actions betray your beliefs. You made vows and then acted against them. You have put your own desires above the order." Iriel smiled a predator's grin. "You have been a part of our order the whole time."

There was movement at the entrance to the cavern as Farryn brought a concerned looking Mola down the steps. "Ah, there she is," said Iriel. Mola was thin but imposing in her plate armor. She followed Farryn's lead through the chamber and appropriately gawked at the splendor of this hidden gem. Her awe turned to terror when she saw the transformed nymphs fucking and the dark glass throne where Iriel sat. But that terror quickly turned to rage when she locked eyes with Fella and saw her beloved immobilized by the black sludge.

"Fella?" she asked, reaching for her sword.

"Mola!"

The faint golden freckles shimmered on Mola's grey skin as she tapped into her divine heritage. From her back sprouted two faint spectral wings like golden lace, and her short and choppy red hair swirled as she summoned her power.

Fella smiled. Mola would save her. That was the only way this would end. And if she couldn't, she'd escape and find Orilana. She'd get someone strong enough to take down Iriel and end this madness for good. This wasn't how the story ended.

"What's going on here?" asked Mola to Iriel. Her voice was always a bit scratchy, making her sound young and scrappy.

Iriel yawned.

"Farryn, darling, thank you for your work. Go into the pools now."

"Don't," squeaked Fella, but Farryn obeyed without question.

Iriel stood and stretched. Fella turned from her High Priestess to the love of her life, but Mola wasn't moving. Her hand was on her sword hilt. Her power filled the air around her, but she wouldn't strike down the High Priestess of Azora without more information.

"It's not the lying that bothers me," said Iriel. She walked away from the throne to the station where Fella and Farryn had invented the piercings that were now going to undo Farryn. "It's not even that you two knew more about Maloth than I ever did, though you never had a name for it."

"Maloth?" asked Mola. She turned to Fella.

"We have to get out of here," said Fella. "Iriel can't be —"

"Taceo," said Iriel with a lazy wave of her hand. Fella's mouth moved, but no sound came out. Panic seized her. Not for her own sake, but it wasn't until that moment that Fella knew for certain that they were going to lose. Cold dread strangled her throat along with the spell. Not only would she never tell a soul, but now Mola was trapped here with her.

At least they were together at the end.

Mola saw the horror in Fella's eyes and moved towards her love, but with another careless wave, Iriel muttered, "Desisto," and Mola's feet would not obey her command.

Iriel was sorting through something on the desk where Fella and Farryn had worked, but with a shriek, Mola roared, her wings burning brighter, and she trudged towards Fella as though her feet were weighted with iron.

Iriel turned around, and Fella thought for a moment she saw the High Priestess's skin darken. Smoke billowed from Iriel's clawed hands as she said, "Capistro."

The smoke flew from her like serpents and tried to wrap around Mola, but the half-angel was quick. Her blade was unsheathed and burning with blue fire. She cut through the smoke and shouted, "Protero," and the smoke blew back as a gust of clean wind shot from Mola's wings. She shifted her stance slowly, still fighting through Iriel's first spell, and turned to face the High Priestess.

"What's happened here?" she asked. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong, Mola? I thought you liked to be bound and gagged," said Iriel with a smirk.

Mola lowered her sword for a moment as the shock struck her, and Iriel seized the opening. Her smoke tendrils doubled and tripled, multiplying faster than Mola could chop them away. Within moments, Mola was wrapped up with dozens of smoke ropes. Iriel grabbed something off the desk where she was, and cheerfully approached both her captives.

"Taceo," she said as she approached Mola. She circled around the Aasimar, running one long black claw lazily around Mola's neck where her armor left her exposed. Fella understood the threat clearly.

"Now I have to monologue because there's no one to talk to," pouted Iriel. "You see, the nymphs have been lonely to rule over. There was never much there to begin with, and I'm afraid the transformation seems to only limit their sentience further." She reached out an arm, and two black naiads and one lava oread moved towards her slowly. "And sadly Prim has abandoned her post. Her bloodlust has got the better of her. That's why the piercings are essential. I can't release wild monsters into the world. But tame monsters?" Iriel smiled. "That I can do."

She whispered something to the nymphs, and one naiad moved to Fella while the oread and other naiad crept towards Mola. "Where was I?" asked Iriel. "Ah, yes, monologuing. Well, I guess it was loneliness." She sighed. "It all comes back to a kind of crippling loneliness, doesn't it? You see, that's what bothers me most about you two. As I said before, it isn't that you're fucking. I love fucking. It was that you left me out of it. You two were having all the fun, and I was locked in the tower of my own modesty. We were like sisters! Think of all the incestuous fucking we could have done."

Fella shivered, but Iriel laughed. She couldn't tell if the High Priestess was truly upset or not, but she didn't want to give Iriel any reason to be upset with them. She didn't need much reason to destroy beautiful things.

The naiad that approached her peeled off her clothes, and whenever Fella tried to resist, the naiad would use her tar-like skin to hold Fella in place while she stripped her of her robe and undergarments. The oread and other naiad worked on Mola, carefully taking off her armor while leaving the magical rope binding her intact.

Fella knew that Iriel wanted the stagelight right now, but she only had eyes for Mola. The two women watched each other, knowing that this would be their final moment together. After this, they would die fighting or be lost to the pools and Iriel's magic. There was no way around that. Regardless of what came next, they would no longer be themselves, no longer have each other.

"I love you," Fella mouthed to Mola.

"I know," mouthed Mola.

They both smirked.

"I love you too," mouthed Mola.

Fella nodded. That would be enough. No matter what came next, knowing that Mola was with her at the end would be enough.

"Bah," spat Iriel. "What do you know of love? You call what you do in the dark, hoping no one hears you, love? Do not mingle Azora with Maloth."

Mola's lips moved, but no sound came out. Iriel snapped, and Mola could speak as the spell broke from her. "You think I can't love her and have her tie me up?"

Iriel laughed. "Let me show you the difference between our two goddesses." Without ceremony, she kissed Mola on the lips. Fella cried out, but no sound game. She watched helplessly as smoke poured out of Iriel's lips and filled Mola's mouth. It spilled down her lips, over her chest, over her stomach and legs. After a moment, the magic rope binding Mola seemed to vanish and there was only a thick curtain of darkness separating Mola from Fella's gaze. Iriel moaned into the kiss, running her hands over parts of Mola's flesh that Fella couldn't see. Then Mola moaned back. Fella blushed with rage and shame, but she did not look away. She would not grant Iriel that.

When she was done, the smoke faded from Mola. Her chopped and messy hair was lush and full, in two pigtails. She was neither naked nor in her armor. Instead, she was in a bra covered in spikes and a thin red thong. The rest of her was the Mola that Fella loved, but there was a new look in her eyes. She looked drunk or sleepy, as though she couldn't open them all the way.

Without hesitation, the oread and naiad ran their hands over Mola's body. Her skin smoked and hissed where the oread touched, and wherever the naiad touched, black and sticky tar stained her skin. But Mola didn't seem to mind. She moaned as their hands roamed over her body and swayed her hips as though unheard music was guiding her.

Fella's mouth went dry. Yes, Mola had been her lover. She liked to be tied up and spanked. She liked a dozen things that no one in the Abbey could ever know, that even saying out loud was too much for either of them to handle. She had known Mola's body better than anyone else. She had kissed each scar, run her tongue over the mounds of tight muscle pulsing under her lover's skin. She had tasted and known her, but she had never seen Mola like this. She'd never scene her look plump and easy, look sensual and ... seductive.

"Tell me, Fella," said Iriel. When had she moved to Fella? She never noticed. Time seemed to stop as Mola danced, as a long black tentacle of a naiad slid into Mola's pussy and she moaned, biting her lip, arching her back, and still dancing. "Do you want to make love to her?" Iriel ran a claw over Fella's skin, then leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Or do you want to fuck her?"

The hot breath sent goosebumps over Fella. She wanted to make arguments, to protest. She wanted to say that there was no difference between lovers. She wanted to reject Iriel's false dichotomy. She knew it was a seduction. She knew seduction dealt in absolutes and wisdom found gradients. She knew her training. She knew so much, and yet ... and yet ...

Mola ran her hands over the nymphs. She sank her knees to the ground, letting her hands roam over the legs of her lovers, but the tendril of slime kept fucking her, kept pulsing as though it was shoving something inside of her, and Fella knew in that moment, that she wasn't jealous of Mola. She was jealous of the naiad. She wanted to pulse. She wanted to be inside of Mola and fill her up. She wanted to fuck her, to claim her, to have her, to own her, to breed her with her own hot seed.

"Fuck her," said Fella as the spell released her voice.

"Azora would tear you apart," said Iriel, her lips running over Fella's ear. "Maloth would see you together. Now tell me, which goddess do you serve?"

Fella didn't hesitate. All dissembling was gone. Iriel had her own agenda, but she saw Mola and Fella for what they were: perverts. They had committed the sin of debauchery again and again. At first they felt shame, but then only hatred that it was forbidden at all. It was Azora who should be ashamed, not Fella. Not Mola.

"Maloth," she whispered.

"That's right." Iriel ran a claw down Fella's stomach, teasing the skin. Fella whimpered, but her knees buckled when the claw slid into her wet pussy. "You always belonged to Maloth, didn't you?"

"Yes, High Priestess."

Iriel kissed Fella's neck, and she moaned. "Then as a reward, you shall have each other forever." Then she bit Fella's neck hard. Fella cried out in pain, and yet her knees softened more, letting her weight rest on Iriel. "And as a punishment, you shall only have each other as Maloth sees fit."

"Yess," sighed Fella with relief. She had been holding on to the weight of her shame for so long. It was a secret no one could know, and yet it was the best part of her life. She knew that was wrong. She knew serving Azora and teaching her students should be the best part of life. But it wasn't, and the thing that brought her the most joy was the one thing she couldn't talk about. How did shame have such power over joy?

But it didn't anymore. She had no shame. There was nothing to be ashamed of in service of Maloth. Where she had been an abomination in the halls of Azora, she would be a princess under the rule of Maloth.

And Mola would be her queen.

Fella felt something cold and hard placed in her hand. She looked down and saw piercings. "My magic compels her for now, but you want to be with her forever, don't you?"

"Forever," whispered Fella. It was hard for her to stay in the present moment. She was dreaming of holding Mola's hand as they walked out of the cavern, of kissing her in the presence of all the acolytes with pride, of making love to her in the cool of the waterfalls like teenagers from nearby townships did.

Before she knew it, Mola was in front of her. The naiad and oread were gone, and there was only Mola. Beautiful Mola. She was a fierce warrior but a shy lover. It was Fella that kissed her for the first time. They had stayed up late studying. Iriel had gone to bed, but Fella was tutoring Mola, trying to help her understand conjuration versus evocation, but Mola was too tired to learn anything. She looked sleepy then too, with her eyes hooded and heavy.

Fella smiled. History was repeating herself. She would teach Mola the steps, but she had to make the first move. She grinned as she unfastened Mola's bra, letting it fall from her breasts to the cavern floor. She grinned as she carefully held the first piercing in her hand, summoning heat until the tip burned white. She grinned as she kissed Mola's neck and her lover arched her back and moaned softly. She grinned as the bone pierced Mola's nipple. She grinned at the sound of Mola's gasp and the hissing of burning skin. She grinned as she did the other, and as she pulled Mola into a kiss. She grinned as she healed the wound, and as she grabbed Mola's hand and led them to their High Priestess and best friend and sister. She grinned as she betrayed every value that had been forced upon her, for though it looked like betrayal, it only felt like freedom to Fella.

At the edge of the pools, Farryn stepped out. She was no longer the bronze skinned wood elf with unruly red hair. Her hair was slick and black. All of her was elongated and stretched: her ears, her legs, her chest, her arms, her fingers, all of it. Her skin was a burnt pink, and turquoise runes ran over her body like tattoos. Her bones were exaggerated and clearly pronounced under her thin skin. Her bony shoulders came to points like armor, and her feet had been misshapen into hooves in the form of turquoise heels. She smiled as she rose, and her teeth were filled and long. Her eyes were swirls of purple and black with no pupils.

"Hello darling," said Iriel.

"Mistressss," hissed the beast.

"We need more piercings, and when you're done, I have a special project I'd like to talk about."

"I'm hungry."

"Of course," said Iriel. "What do you eat?"

"Are there children nearby?"

"Not here," said Iriel. "You'll have to go to town for that."

Farryn shook her head. "Any bones will do." She smiled wide. "I just want something soft."

"Right," said Iriel. "A naiad will take you to the infirmary and see what they can rustle up." Iriel turned to Mola and Fella. "Into the pools," she said. "It's your prize and your torment. You'll find Maloth likes to blend the two."

Mola obeyed immediately, the piercings compelling her. She dragged Fella towards the pool, but Fella was watching Farryn and Iriel go. Is that what she was fated to become? A monster?

Mola squeezed her hand, and she turned back around and grinned as the pools wrapped around her bare feet. "At least we go together," she said.

Mola turned to her as the pools covered their knees. "Together forever," she said.

The two kissed as they walked inch by inch, into the Pools of Maloth and whatever waited for them, their bodies entwined as they wished their souls to be.