Embrace of the Goddess Ch. 11

Her leash.

Orilana/Rella smirked and offered the chain to Iriel. "You and I both know it's not real, but what does that matter?" She shrugged. "It's better than dreaming."

It was wrong. It was another perversion, another illusion. That's all Maloth was. She was smoke and lies. She twisted something beautiful and thought she could improve upon it with seduction and domination. Iriel had fallen for this trick before. It felt a lifetime ago that a demon goddess offered her a vision, a lie, and she accepted. It cost her everything, and now she was being offered another trick. A beautiful fucking trick.

Iriel's heart stopped in her chest the same way it did when she saw herself in Maloth's mirror. She was filled with the knowledge of its wrongness while being unable to fight her urge to touch it, to take it, to be it. This version of Orilana was the twisted mirror image of her friend and lover. Would Iriel give her friend to the darkness just to have her? Would she do it knowing what it had cost herself already?

But Iriel knew the truth. There were no second chances. She had buried herself in darkness that she could not step out of. If she wanted love, the only option was to pull love into that shadow and make it work.

So Iriel took the chain from Rella. She pulled on it slightly, and Rella came easily. Goddess, she even moved like Orilana. She rushed into Iriel and both women wrapped their arms around each other.

She smelled like Orilana.

Iriel ran her hands beneath the long black braid and up into Orilana's hair. The hair felt like Orilana's. The skin was smooth and scarred like Orilana's. It was her. It was a lie, but what was the difference between a perfect lie and the truth? At some point, lies become truth. And sometimes truth devours lies and passes themselves off as pure.

Iriel broke the embrace to hold Orilana's cheeks. The eyes were right. The lips were right. Rella even laughed and smiled in a small huff like Orilana. It was perfect. A perfect lie. That had to be good enough. Iriel could never have the real thing, but she could make do with this. She had no other choice.

The first kiss was strangely nervous and perfect in its innocence. Iriel was kissing her best friend. They were unsure, and they smiled and laughed as their lips hovered over the moment. They pulled away quickly, smiling wider.

"I love you," Iriel whispered.

"I love you too," Orilana said.

Then they kissed again. And again. And again.

Maloth took control of Iriel's hand, pulling the chain down. Orilana's head followed, but she couldn't stop kissing Iriel. She kissed along Iriel's throat, and the High Priestess moaned, staggering back. As she went, the chain pulled Orilana with her. Orilana pushed Iriel into the wall. Iriel cried out in pain, but it melted into a moan as Orilana kept kissing her sensitive neck. The strong and calloused hands of Orilana gripped Iriel, squeezing her wrists and lifting them up above the demon elf's head. Iriel closed her eyes as Orilana trailed kisses back and forth from shoulder to shoulder, tasting the soft flesh of her High Priestess.

Orilana bent her knees as her kisses sank lower on Iriel's body. Then with a snarl, she released Iriel's hands and ripped away the lacey and erotic robe of Iriel's station. Iriel was left bare, and for the first time in weeks, her body was hungry for the touch of another woman. For the first time she wanted to be splayed open and filled. She wanted to be bent and broken. She wanted to ease herself into Orilana with a thousand soft kisses and yield to Orilana's touch. She wanted to fill Orilana's body with every inch of her power, every soft and hard promise of her flesh. She wanted to know this woman and give this woman full knowledge of her.

She wanted to be possessed once more.

Orilana didn't bother reaching for Iriel's wrists again, and Iriel didn't bother putting her hands down. She let herself press against the wall of her apartments and spread herself wide. Orilana grabbed her breasts, and once more the strength of her lover thrilled Iriel. Orilana brought her eager mouth to Iriel's nipples, and the High Priestess moaned. She wished she could spread herself wider. Each part of her body wanted to be opened up and filled. For the first time, she felt the temptation of Maloth's piercings. She wanted the metal through her and in her. She wanted to be fucked in every way by Orilana, and piercing was just another kind of fucking. A permanent fucking. A public fucking.

Orilana bit down playfully on Iriel's nipple, and the world went a bright white like lightning, like the apparition of divinity both awful and awesome filling the chamber. Iriel thought of the first time Maloth rushed inside of her. There was the thrill of power as she became infinite and the high of powerlessness as she became insignificant. It was that once more. She was everything to Orilana, a body being worshipped. She was nothing to Orilana, flesh to be used. She was two sides of one coin, spinning in the air, never landing, never deciding, never final. She was everything at once, all parts of herself. She was more than one thing. She was herself.

Maloth took the reins of Iriel's body once more, but Iriel didn't mind. She didn't fight the puppet strings of the goddess. She was pressed between two lovers, one within and one without, as they caressed her and abused her, as they loved her and used her, as they worshipped her and degraded her. Maloth pulled away from the wall and staggered to the bed, pulling tight on Orilana's leash. The three of them collapsed into the huge bed, and Orilana fell on top of her High Priestess. Maloth was quick with Iriel's hands, pulling the chain tight with one and grabbing the dark braid with another. She shoved Orilana's face between Iriel's legs.

"Worship me," Iriel/Maloth moaned. They were in harmony. Iriel had found the song again, the one that Maloth first sang out to her from the depths of her tomb. It was power and pain. It was darkness and corruption. It was sadism and masochism. It was flesh and pussy. It was breaking and piercing. It was fucking and taking.

It was pleasure, and they sang it well.

Orilana served well, but Maloth/Iriel were particular. They shifted their lover's head, guided her. They pulled the chain tight. Iriel wasn't sure if it were to bring her tongue deeper, or just to hurt her. It was all the same to Maloth. Pain was pleasure. Pleasure was pain. Orilana would be split in two if it pleased Iriel. Iriel would be broken in half if it pleased Maloth.

Orilana gripped Iriel's thighs. White burning light shone from her hands, and heat spread along Iriel's skin. At first it was a hot bath and then hot wax. But Orilana didn't stop. It was a flame held against her skin. Then it was a brand. Iriel shouted and arched her back, and Orilana let the pain dull. Then she moved her hands to another spot on Iriel's sensitive thighs and did it again. The warmth of Orilana's tongue, the warmth of Iriel's pussy being served, blended and danced with the white pain of the captain's magic. Iriel closed her eyes and spread her arms wide, gripping the sheets of the bed. She didn't know where one started or another ended. It was all heat. It was all pain. It was all heaven and all hell. In her body she was everything, an entire cosmos, an inferno and a cloudless sky.

A prickling spread up her stomach and lingered over Iriel's breasts. It was a phantom touch, like goosebumps, like her skin touching itself. It was tingling and numbing. It was exciting and terrifying. Iriel went to touch her skin, but Maloth held them back, pinning her to the bed. She felt the shackles of Maloth's power or Orilana's power, she couldn't tell. White hot circles appeared at her wrists and feet, and the burning of Orilana's touch continued. The lightning pleasure of each long lick of Orilana's tongue over Iriel's pussy continued too. But Iriel's mind focused on the phantom touch over her stomach. It crawled up her body and to her breasts. They tingled and burned. They thrummed and pulsed. Then her nipples went harder, and it felt like someone was biting down on them.

Maloth.

Maloth was fucking her.

Iriel moaned and arched her back. "Oh yes," she moaned. "Fuck yes. Fuck me Maloth. Fuck me." The goddess heard her prayer and listened to the incantations of her High Priestess. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," prayed Iriel. "Fuckme fuckme fuck me." She pulsed her hips against Orilana's face. The goddess made the pain of Orilana's burning hands as delightful as the bites on Iriel's nipples. Her body was awake in a way it hadn't been in weeks. Her soul was shining bright in the darkness of Maloth's presence. "Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme."

Iriel's voice was high and breathy. She was approaching hysteria as the pleasure and pain burned. As her body became one sensitive nerve dipped into lava but never burning, never numbing.

Iriel came and collapsed into herself. All at once, Orilana stopped. The magic shackles faded. The phantom kissing stopped. The burning receded. There was only the pleasant aftertaste. Iriel tried to open her eyes, but she was too spent and broken. She was hallowed and hollowed out by the goodness of it. Dear goddess, she needed to sleep so badly. She kept her eyes closed and curled into herself, letting the world fade for a bit, hoping a dream would come for the first time in weeks.

But as she rested her mind, her body kept moving. Maloth didn't open Iriel's eyes. She let her High Priestess rest, but she rose, eager to play with her obedient servant. Orilana spoke, but it was Rella's voice now, more like the hiss of a serpent.

Iriel dreamed of kissing Rella in her true form, her demon form. She stripped Rella naked and slapped her. There was spanking. There were shouts of pain. In the dream, Iriel put on the strap-on that first made Rella and fucked the demon in every hole. She was most callous with Rella's throat. Even as Rella choked and gagged, Iriel kept calling her a "good girl." She finally came, and the strap-on shot black cum like tar down the servant's throat, over her face and tits. Rella lay crumbled on the floor, sticky and beaten, still muttering thanks to her goddess.

But it was all a dream, just like the one of Orilana strapped to a table and fucked by the Staff of the Eclipse.

Iriel slept truly and soundly then. Her body healed itself from the burns, but the pleasure of fucking Orilana, even a false one, opened her back up. Maloth could make lies true. She had done so before with each transformation. Even Iriel's slow transformation was evidence of Maloth's power. Why couldn't she make the lie of Orilana come true? Why couldn't she bend one last fiction into reality? It was true that Iriel hadn't been obedient. She'd been stubborn and dragged her feet. She stalled and sabotaged Maloth where she could. Surely the goddess knew of each transgression. She hid in Iriel's body like a tumor. Nothing was far from her sight. She would punish Iriel if she disobeyed. But she would reward her just as she'd done with Rella. Yes. She could be obedient. She could earn Orilana as a reward.

A knock on the door woke her up. On the floor, Rella was still crumpled and covered with black cum, but she woke at the knocking as well. She looked up at Iriel and quickly changed her shape to her former self: curvy and hidden behind a tight and thick white veil that covered her entire body. There was the sound of shouting from the corridors outside the apartments, and Rella rose to her feet as black smoke curled from her fingertips.

"Come in," Iriel shouted. She rose from her bed, not bothering to cover her nudity. The door opened and Melior strode in, a bloody sword in her hand.

"It's time. They're finally attacking."

Iriel's heart fluttered. Orilana. She was here in truth this time. Maloth had heard her prayer. Next to her, Rella seemed to relax. She shifted her form back to her true self, leaving the black cum on display over her chest and face like a badge of honor. She bent down and grabbed the Staff of the Eclipse from the floor. She turned and handed it to Iriel.

"Go get her back," she said.

Iriel grabbed the staff and smiled. "Care to join me?"

Rella's form shifted into a hulking and beautiful half-orc woman with lithe muscles. "Sounds like fun."

***

Orilana

Attacking was the only option left. Without their prisoners, without the staff, with diminishing resources, they were left with no choice. They could have the demons starve them out or they could wait for an inevitable and carefully planned final assault that would wipe them out.

Or they could make one last and desperate stand. They could plan how they met their end, with the banner of Azora's rising sun charging through the Abbey. They could go out with dignity and fall on a sword before being perverted into whatever Maloth wanted for each of them. They could die before they were pierced and enslaved. They could die before they were made demons like Farryn and Prim.

Demons like Iriel.

Orilana cut through a dryad with her silvered sword, splitting the creature from navel to neck. They had tied cloth around their faces to fight the fumes and pheromones. They melted the decorative script on their armor and silvered their swords with it to fight whatever demons or beasts they didn't know about. There was no going back from this. They all knew they were going to die, but they preferred it to Maloth's alternative.

Beside her, Harza cut through a spawn from Prim, spraying sticky blood over both of them. They had caught their enemy by surprise, but that wouldn't last much longer. Any second Maloth would --

A wave of darkness spread over the corridor, paralyzing demons and paladins alike. Even Orilana's lungs were held in place, and her chest burned as she suffocated. A trail of smoke came around the corner, and then an image from Orilana's dreams and nightmares appeared before her.

Iriel was in her true demon form without pretense. Her skin was a rich purple. Her spaded tail flicked back and forth through the smoke that pooled around her. Her horns looked larger and adorned her head like a crown. Her hair was thick and wavy. She could have been a beautiful woman. Even in her obvious nudity. Even with her black clawed fingers. Even with the glimpses of deformed feet through the smoke.

She could have been beautiful.

The High Priestess of the Dark Goddess Maloth walked past the other warriors. She carried the Staff of the Eclipse in her hand as casually as a walking staff. She strode up to Orilana and wrapped her clawed finger under Orilana's chin.

"Hello, love," she said. She smiled wide, showing the sharp fangs her goddess had given her. Orilana wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to hug Iriel and weep for the loss of her beauty. She wanted to kiss her and apologize for being too weak to save her.

Instead, she stood frozen as her body floated into the air and followed Iriel down into the pits of the Abbey. Down into the Tomb of Maloth that would become her womb. For though Orilana didn't know it, a goddess was about to be born.