Embrace of the Goddess Ch. 07

Cynthia squealed with delight and ran up to Melior. The other women pouted, but with a glare from Melior, they silenced themselves. Melior spread her legs wider, and Cynthia sank to her knees. She looked up at Melior eagerly, reverently. The demon looked down and nodded to the girl. Cynthia licked Melior's vagina, but the demon made no sound of pleasure. She looked up at Rella and smiled.

"Good pick," she said and ran her clawed hands through the girl's dark hair.

"What will happen to her?" asked Rella.

"You know what will happen."

Rella nodded. She did. The demon had made it clear: serve, suffer, and join. It was the way of corruption and consumption. It was the way of Maloth.

And somehow Rella had participated in it.

"Dance for us," commanded Melior. "Dance and unwrap our present. Maybe today we'll get to feast on your pride and false-modesty."

Before Rella could ask a question, music filled her ears. The thick smell of the room was like steam and smoke and sweat blurring her vision and confusing her senses. There was a faint and lovely sound buzzing through it all and the long lick and slurps of Cynthia's tongue. Rella tried to retreat into her mind, to shut herself off from the horrors around her, but the music dwelt with her there. The music and the sound of Cynthia's debauchery.

Without her permission, her hips began to sway to the music. The girls around her laughed. She tried to tell them that she couldn't control herself, but she couldn't speak. She was helpless as her body gave into the pleasure sound. It reminded her of home: of sweat and sand and heat you can see. Of smokey rooms her father would run and fill with half-naked women. Of smokey rooms where her father would cheat on her mother, and it didn't matter that everyone knew. Aisha knew and was forced to stay. But not Rella. She could run away to an Abbey where everyone was pure. She could run away and never have to see women embarrass themselves for the sake of a man ever again.

But she was back there now, in the hot and smokey room. She hips moved like the dancers her father hired. They could stand perfectly still while only their bellies and hips obeyed the music. Rella tried that now — tried to force herself to stillness — but her hips would not obey. Her arms extended and followed the music. Her wrists twisted, and her hands writhed. She danced as the greatest belly dancers of her time did, though her feet stayed still on the ground. But that was not her greatest shame. There was no shame in dancing, not while in a veil.

She hated herself for the relief and prayer of thankfulness that flooded her mind as she pulled off her head covering. It was so hot in this room, and she was warm with the shame and the eyes of the other women. Her skin needed to breathe, and so a surge of pleasure washed over her sweaty face. She was not forced to smile and pretend to enjoy herself as she shamed herself forever in front of this demon. They knew of her bright green eyes but not her hair dark as night or her skin red and tan as the sands she escaped.

But the demon knew of her birthmark on her side, above her hips, a black mark like a crow. No one here knew. No one but her mother knew. How could the demon? How was any of this possible?

The women didn't shame or mock Rella as she revealed herself. Instead, they clapped and cheered. Some of them cried out that she was beautiful, and even Cynthia stopped licking Melior long enough to turn around and look at Rella's face.

Beauty? Was it possible that she'd been hiding beauty all this time? She wasn't beautiful in her father's house or the men that came and inspected her, looking to see if she would make a worthy bride. They lifted her chin like cattle, and she never wanted to feel that way again. She assumed if she ever were to marry, that her wedding night would be another chance to be weighed and measured.

She had never expected to be celebrated.

Rella smiled at their encouragement and the music got louder in her ears. Her hips swayed more and more dramatically, trying to impress them. She'd always been a competitive woman, and she wouldn't be outdone now. They liked what they saw? Well, wait until she pushed herself.

"Unwrap our present," commanded Melior. The logic of it overwhelmed Rella as she closed her eyes. It was far too hot in here for her to stay trapped in this thick veil. Besides, she needed to roll her stomach, to show off the sensual smoothness of her flesh. She couldn't do any of that under her veil.

When she opened her eyes, Melior was standing in front of her. Back at the bed, Cynthia was panting and whining, waiting for her Mistress to come back. Rella smiled lazily, letting the tingling drug of Melior's power wash over her. The demon raised a long claw and made several quick slices over Rella's veil. Then, without a word, she turned and went back to her bed. She spread her legs, and Cynthia went back to work.

Rella understood what to do. She looked at the other girls in the room. They were all dancing, all inviting her to join them. Rella had spent weeks locked in the library with books. Ever since she arrived here, everyone shunned her but Iriel. They thought she was strange to revive the old and draconian tradition of the veil. She pretended it didn't matter — that only Iriel and Azora's approval mattered — but it was a lie. Now she had a room full of sisters with their piercings glowing so bright. They were inviting her in to play, to step out of her stuffy library and join them. Would she do it? Of course she would.

Rella continued dancing. She twisted her arm and then tugged at one sleeve of her veil. It fell away effortlessly, and the girls cheered. Rella smiled and blushed. She turned to do it with another sleeve, but she caught Melior's eyes before she did it. Understanding passed between them. Slower. Melior wanted to watch her present unwrap itself slowly and delicately.

Rella eased the sleeve down, then paused before it revealed her elbow. She spun and undulated her belly and hips. The women howled with delight, and as she passed back around, she lifted another bare arm and wiggled her fingers. She was met with more cheering. Melior licked her lips. Between her legs, Cynthia continued to work, going faster and faster.

Rella extended her hands and curled her fingers, summoning two of the girls to come to her side. They obeyed and giggled, grinding up against the veiled woman while she whispered in their ears. They nodded and continued to dance with her. Rella raised both her hands above her head and spun, still grinding against each woman with the music. She took a step and pulsed her hips. They spun with her, keeping their thighs between her thighs. It was as intricate as clockwork. Rella stepped and thrusted. They thrusted and spun.

Step. Thrust.

Spin. Thrust.

Step. Thrust.

Spin. Thrust.

Step.

Thrust.

Spin.

Thrust.

Step.

Thrust.

Spin.

Thrust.

It distracted her audience from the slow pull of the fabric. The two women unwrapped Rella like a piece of candy in the marketplace. They held the fabric tight, and she spun out of it, slowly revealing her stomach. Her audience cheered, and even Melior clapped slowly as Rella could get to the real work of dancing, of showing off her body for the first time. Her mind was clouded and drugged with lust. All she could think about was how much fun this was. She could only concern herself with her own amusement and the amusement of her audience. She thought silly thoughts like, And no one here wants to hunt me. There is no predator here. But of course, the demon was sitting across from her, devouring a snack as Rella danced.

Rella's logic was gone. Her understanding of cause and effect was gone. She could no more remember the fear when she first saw Melior than understand what would happen when she was done dancing. There was only the present moment. If ever she could recall the past, her mind went to the pages of The Rites of Debauchery. A small voice inside her said that this scene belonged in the book, but she knew that wasn't right. There was no pain here. There was only pleasure. Abundant pleasure.

One of the women grabbed Rella's chin and turned her lips. Rella didn't have time to react before the woman kissed her. The crowd clapped and cheered. Rella twisted her hands above her head and kept dancing, acting as though the kiss was all part of it. When their lips parted, Rella was breathless. Before she could process, the other woman grabbed her chin, spun her, and kissed her. She kept dancing. She had to keep dancing.

You can dance and taste, said a voice in Rella's mind. It was thick like honey and feminine, but there was something dangerous to it. It hissed more than whispered. Without thinking, Rella knew what it meant and what it expected of her. She eased her hips down and bent her knees, enjoying the swell of her ass as she turned and latched her lips around one of the women's breasts. She sucked on the piercing, and the woman moaned with delight. The nipple tasted like milk and lightning as its power swirled through Rella. It was absolute pleasure and abandon. Consequences were gone. There was only the dance and the flesh. There was only the approval of the crowd and the chance to show off her beautiful body. Everything else was gone as she searched for the source of the lovely voice that guided her.

It was hot and sticky in this room. It was smokey and sweet. It was a blur of bodies and dancing and motion and kissing. It was more than she could process or handle. The two women stepped away from her and kissed each other. They slammed against the stone wall of the chamber and kept kissing, their hands roaming over their body. Rella knew they were sluts and yet wondered why they didn't do that to her.

Because she was still in clothes.

Rella bent over and grabbed the hem of her veil. She continued to writhe, shaking her hips and belly, waving her ass as she lowered herself and slowly rose up, pulling up her skirt as she went. There was nothing but the thick undergarment to show off, but to Rella it was a level of nudity the whores around her could never imagine. They could never sink as far as she could because they had never been as high, never been as pure.

And when they fuck me, thought Rella, it will be more debased than they could imagine.

The thought was strange, but Rella knew it had to be from Melior, from the dancing and book. It couldn't have been from her. Yet her mind lingered on the thought instead of rejecting it. She imagined the page in the book of one woman sodomizing another. Would Melior do that to her? Perhaps with her tail. Yes. She imagined when she was done unwrapping herself that the demon would bend her over and fuck her. There would be no pleasure, nothing in service to Azora. It would all be pain, all a sacrifice to Maloth.

She was disgusted with herself. She should have never allowed herself to be taken by a demon. She should have died rather than obey its commands. Yet here she was, one of its harlots, Dancing for it, and enjoying herself. There would be no better punishment than to take its tail inside her, to be a toy for pain and suffering.

After all, that's why she followed Azora, isn't it? For Penance?

Rella ripped a slit through her skirt and lifted the fabric up. She twirled, raising her hands above her head. As she pulsed her hips and her belly rolled, as she spun and danced, the skirt slowly peeled away, and Rella unwrapped the demon's present. She was in nothing but the shreds of her veil over her chest and the thick undergarment protecting her womanhood. She was unwrapped. She stood, chest heaving, waiting for her penance.

Melior closed her eyes and gripped the back of Cynthia's head. Cynthia was covered in sweat and eager, but she wasn't going to stop. Melior dug her claws in further and roared with pleasure. Her body shook, and as she climaxed, something happened to Cynthia. Cynthia moaned, and her skin blackened at the edges, as though turning to ash. The corruption spread, but Cynthia kept moaning. She moaned and writhed and served until she was burnt all over. The last thing to turn black was her tongue, and then the woman turned into a cloud of green and pink and black vapor. There was one final discorporate yell from Cynthia, and then the vapor tightened and slid into Melior's vagina. The demon moaned as it happened, her body tight and her back arched until the vapor was gone and there was no sign of the woman.

The spell broke over Rella. All at once, she felt the chill of her nudity and shame. Around her, the girls clapped and cheered as Cynthia joined Melior. Rella didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be like them. She had to leave. She had to save herself.

Melior collapsed backwards on the bed, her chest heaving with the pleasure of her orgasm. Rella muttered a dozen apologies to Azora. She prayed for forgiveness and redemption. She prayed for protection and power. She prayed for safe passage and help. Then, with one swift motion, she opened the door to the demon's chamber and ran for her life.