Fruits of Her Devotion [F/F, Trans]

Note: The characters depicted in this story are both consenting adults. Lyra is 25 and Itheia is hundreds of years old, appearing in her late twenties.

Note 2: This piece is not intended to fetishize trans people, so any comments featuring fetishistic or otherwise transphobic language will be removed.

*Content Warning*: Lyra engages in penetrative sex in this story. This won't be the case for all of my stories that feature trans women, but it's an aspect of this one. It was done for trans woman readers who either prefer or don't mind things being this way when they're depicted in erotica. Care was taken to not fetishize Lyra in this act, but if anything has inadvertently come across that way then I'm open to criticism and advice from trans women so that I can do better in future works.

If you would rather read a story of mine involving a trans woman where this aspect doesn't occur, then I invite you to check out Set In Stone [M/F, Male Gargoyle/Female Human].

Fruits of Her Devotion

The Temple of Itheia was awash in its typical serenity that morning. Lyra woke in her chambers to a gentle, blue twilight, her eyes slowly blinking away the remnants of sleep. The air was cool as she sat on the edge of the bed to stretch out her arms and spine. She stood, the floor chilly against her bare feet, and set about heating some water for her bath.

It would warm her, but it also served as a daily ritual that she was required to undergo as a Maiden of Itheia; an attendant to the goddess who oversaw the safety, happiness, and prosperity of all mortal women. The Maidens bathed themselves each morning in water which they would lavish with heliotrope petals. Bearing the favoured scent of Itheia upon their skin was an expression of their devotion and allowed them access into the inner sanctum where the goddess resided.

Lyra ran her hand through the basket of petals she had prepared the night before. She felt a small, wistful smile tug at her lips. Heliotropes; the flower of undying love. Unknown to anyone, Lyra's feelings towards her goddess ran far deeper than what was expected from her as a Maiden. But who was she to desire so much from a deity?

With practised ease, she shook the thoughts from her head and went through her routine. A few buckets and an emptied basket later, she was stepping out of her nightgown and into the tub. Steam curled up around her, sweet with a combined fragrance of almonds and cherries from the petals floating on the water's surface. She relaxed into it, humming and running her hands over her legs and arms.

The sun had fully climbed out from behind the horizon as Lyra finished her soak. Cloudless dawn allowed golden light to stream in through the window. She lifted herself from the bath, dried off and dressed in light blue robes and pale gold cords.

Lyra made her way out of her room and through the hall which held the doors to each of the Maidens' chambers. They were treated well there; private quarters, abundant food, and various areas made solely for recreation rather than the Maidens' spiritual duties (Lyra enjoyed the library most). Despite her divinity, Itheia demanded nothing less for those in her service. Many other gods would hardly even spare a glance at them let alone ensure their comfort and leisure time.

Most of Lyra's fellow Maidens were gathered in the vestry when she arrived. Here they were given their set of daily tasks by the Head Maiden Valeria; a stern but not entirely unpleasant woman in her early fifties. Their duties typically entailed things like cleaning, tending to the sacred gardens, or handling the offerings brought to the temple.

But Lyra sensed that something was different that day. As she entered the room, all eyes were suddenly on her. A small sea of awkward expressions, save for Valeria who was regarding her neutrally. Still, it was unsettling. Lyra approached the Head Maiden.

"Good morning, madam," she said, keeping her tone airy and polite as she tried to dispel the strange atmosphere.

"Good morning, Lyra," Valeria said coolly. Her eyes were difficult to read behind her thick-lens spectacles and her mouth carried its usual light frown. "Eager as ever to go about your duties, I presume?"

"I am," Lyra said. "Where have you assigned me today?"

Valeria adjusted her glasses. "Well, it's not about where I would have you."

"Pardon?"

"Lady Itheia has once again requested your presence today."

Lyra's heart began to pound, easily excitable at a single suggestion of prolonged time with her goddess. It was an honour to be tasked with staying directly by Itheia's side and seeing personally to her daily needs. And it was one Lyra had been enjoying in abundance of late. At least twice a week in the last three months if memory was serving her.

Now that she thought about it, Lyra had never heard of any of her fellow Maidens being requested by Itheia herself. The task was typically given at random. A daring hope rose in her, but she squashed it. She was simply good at the job and Itheia recognized that. Nothing more.

"If that is what she wishes," Lyra said. She started to turn and leave the vestry when she was stopped by Valeria's voice.

"One more thing," she said quickly. There was a shallow basket full of fruit on the desk near her which she picked up and handed to Lyra. "Lady Itheia requested you and these."

As Lyra took the basket, a few of the other Maidens in the room began to titter among themselves.

Valeria cleared her throat, silencing them instantly. "Quiet, now."

Lyra looked down at the fruit, puzzled. They had dark blue skin with lighter flecks around the top, were about the size of oranges, and gave off an aroma not unlike subdued vanilla. She figured they must have come from outside the temple as she had been in the gardens enough times to know that they didn't grow there. But they seemed to be ordinary fruits. There was nothing inherently funny about them as her fellow Maidens seemed to think.

"Do you know what they are?" Valeria asked.

"No, madam," Lyra said. "I've never seen them be--."

Shock stilled her tongue as she saw the faintest hint of a blush on the cheeks of the Head Maiden. For once, Valeria wasn't looking her in the eye.

"The Lady will surely tell you of their significance," she said. With a shooing motion of her hand, Lyra was dismissed. "Off you go. She's waiting."

Lyra gave a small bow of her head and hurried out of the room. The halls were empty and quiet except for the sound of her footsteps against the elegant tile. Her hands tightly gripped the handles of the basket as she walked towards the inner sanctum.

She was barely keeping her composure, her mind buzzing. Nerves made her worry her bottom lip. What meaning could the fruit possibly hold that they had even Valeria nearing a flustered state? They had to be the cause; they were, to her knowledge, the only new element in her assignment. The delectable scent of them swirled about her, mixing nicely with the flowery aroma still clinging to her hair.

Lyra reached the extravagant doors outside of Itheia's chambers. The gold accents on the intricately carved, pale surface glinted in the light. An array of flowers, trees, and birds that seemed ready to burst from their wooden confines at any moment. Lyra stood there, trying to banish her perturbed expression for something more kind. She brought her hand to the door handle and pushed her way in.

"Good morning, Lady Itheia," she said pleasantly. She yelped in surprise as she found Itheia where she didn't expect to; standing nearly right inside the door. The goddess was usually late to rise, so Lyra had expected to be the one to wake her.

Itheia startled a little as well before chuckling lightly. "Terribly sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I sensed you coming is all."

She stood before Lyra in simple but silvery robes; thin, airy and sitting loosely upon her form. Gossamer fabric covered her scaled arms and her clawed fingers were notably bare of any rings. She had forgone jewellery entirely, which was uncharacteristic. Her white, waist-length hair seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light, crowned by tall horns. Eyes with slit pupils regarded Lyra warmly despite their icy colour.

"M-my fault entirely," Lyra stammered, looking away and stepping around Itheia. "I forgot to knock."

The door closed behind her with a dull thump. She turned, only remembering then to give her goddess a proper bow.

"I've brought you these," she said, holding out the basket

Lyra tried to decide whether or not to voice her curiosity about the fruit as Itheia drew near--very near. Her face heated as only the distance of the basket's rim separated the two of them. The goddess' scent filled her nose; a stronger fragrance of heliotropes came about her naturally. Lyra's eyes rose to view the regal face and were then drawn away to to the elegant point of Itheia's long ear.

Itheia reached into the basket and plucked out one of the fruits. She turned it over in her hand and gave it a light sniff before smiling and returning it to the others.

"These are particularly excellent," she said. "Tender and ripe to perfection given the smell of them. Thank you."

"Of course. Only the best, my Lady," Lyra said, ducking her head slightly. She froze, heart in her throat, as a clawed but gentle hand brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Itheia had touched her in such ways before; mostly fleeting, but sometimes lingering. It had become a frequent occurrence and yet Lyra's mind still descended into a brief flurry each time.

"You're so good to me," Itheia said fondly, her fingers lightly running along Lyra's jaw before retracting at her chin. The motion had coaxed the Maiden to raise her head and look Itheia in the eye.

Lyra sucked in a breath at what her infatuated mind swore was a deep tenderness in those blue pools. "I...I'll be sure to let the other Maidens know of your contentment under our care."

"I meant specifically you," Itheia said.

It was almost too much for Lyra. She couldn't trust her tongue, which felt tied in her mouth, to allow her to respond to the sentiment in any dignified way. Was the deity toying with her as immortals were oft to do? Did Itheia get amusement from flustering her devotees in such a manner? Lyra didn't want to accuse her of such things, but the alternative of true affection was far more outlandish. She couldn't let her heart get away from her.

Lyra moved away from Itheia. It was only by a few steps, but it felt like worlds. Straightening herself, she forced a smile to her face and said, "I...I merely brought them here, my Lady; they were picked by another. Shall I put them aside for now?"

Itheia regarded her with a strange expression before nodding slowly.

"On the nightstand, if you please," she said.

Lyra did as asked and then turned in place, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. "How else may I be of service today?"

"Your company is enough," Itheia said. She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hand over the space beside her. "Please; sit. There's something I wish to speak to you about."

"Oh...of course."

Lyra took the Lady's requested place. She couldn't keep the tension out of her body as she awaited Itheia's words. Had she done something wrong?

Itheia sighed then, though it wasn't in exasperation. It sounded as if it came from a sorrow nestled deeply in her chest. Her voice was as tender as the touch that came to rest on Lyra's trembling hand.

"Lyra, why do you deny yourself?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, my Lady."

Itheia gave her a strikingly doleful look. "It would be a sad state of affairs if the protector of women knew so little of their hearts."

She knew? But of course, she did. How could Lyra have been so foolish as to not realize that? She could silence her voice and hold back her body, but she couldn't put a gag and chains on the thunderous yearning of her soul. Avarice that reached out for something so beyond her mortal station. Lyra's vision blurred with mortified tears as she dropped her face into her hands.

"F-forgive me, Lady Itheia!" she sobbed, thoughts of banishment from the temple running wild in her mind--if that would even be the worst of her punishment. She was surprised moments later when she felt herself being gingerly held and brought down to rest with her head in Itheia's lap.

"It's not wrong to love," the goddess said. Her hand caressed Lyra's back and smoothed her hair. "There is nothing to forgive."

"But it's not just love," Lyra confessed. Words beyond her intention spilled outward like the floodgate holding the swelling river of her shame had burst. "It's...I want to--oh, shut up, Lyra!"

Heat rose to her face which she chose to keep hidden. The comforting hands slowly retracted and she expected the worst.

"Lyra, look at me," Itheia said, her voice still steady and blanketed in understanding.

Reluctantly, Lyra rose from her place and looked her goddess in the face. That same soft smile greeted her. Not a hint of anger or abhorrence. She bit the inside of her cheek as fresh tears spilled out in her confusion.

"Am I...am I not disgusting to you?' she asked. "That a mortal dares to imagine you in such a--."

Itheia cupped her face, effectively silencing her. "Has anything I've done and said, with me knowing full well how you feel, seemed like disgust?"

"N-no," Lyra said after a moment's thought.

"Did it seem like anything other than attempts to express reciprocation?"

Lyra sucked in such a quick breath that it hurt. "What?"

Itheia chuckled, wiping at the remaining tears on Lyra's face before releasing her.

"Do you honestly believe that in the hundreds of years that humans have been in my service that you are the first to have feelings for me?" she said.

"I...no," Lyra admitted. "That sounds impossible."

"It's not openly spoken about to avoid any ill thoughts or rumors spreading among outsiders about my 'true intentions' with you," Itheia said. "But it's not at all uncommon for me to sometimes be involved romantically with my Maidens."

"Truly?"

"Truly," Itheia affirmed. "In fact, there was a time many years ago when I enjoyed the however brief companionship of Valeria."

"Valeria?" Lyra said, aghast. "Madam Valeria?"

"Difficult to believe, I know," Itheia said. A sly expression spread over her features. "But stiffness can be worked out with the proper touch."

Lyra didn't think that she could feel more flushed at that moment but it happened. She cleared her throat.

"So...this is all right? You're fine with this...with me?" she asked, more so gasping than speaking the final word as disbelief gripped her throat.

"More than fine," Itheia said. She put her hands over Lyra's whose fingers were twisted into the fabric of her robes. "It's my greatest honour to have earned your love. Human lives are so fleeting. Your time and affection are among the most precious gifts that you can give. Especially to a being such as I."

Her eyes were intense and Lyra could see the ages in them for a brief moment. Centuries worth of loss in a deep well of memory. But it was not without its light shimmering from the surface above; full of love, devotion, and free from regret. It was inviting. A warm welcome with open arms. Lyra fought herself no longer, choosing then to dive headfirst and make her place in that eternity.

She landed in Itheia's embrace, all but melting against her.

"Then I'll give it to you. My time, my love." She paused, swallowing something that to tried in vain to trap her next words. "My body as long as it holds."

"I know this is fast, but...may I request it now?" Itheia asked.

"Yes, my Lady," Lyra said. Despite her rising excitement, she of all things thought to her Lady's second request that day. Did Itheia foresee this outcome and want to involve it somehow? "This is silly timing, but is that fruit I brought in a part of this?"

She felt a shift. Itheia released her and stayed in her space, reaching over her to take one of the fruits from the basket. It was deposited into Lyra's hand; still a fully innocuous-looking fruit, but it did smell delicious.

"It's called an Ayaeva Fruit," Itheia said. "You've not heard of them?"

"No," Lyra said. "But the other Maidens acted so strangely about them, so they must be special."

"Indeed; quite special. They're a food of the gods."

"Oh...then am I allowed to--?"

She cut herself off with a sharp intake of breath as Itheia placed a hand on her thigh. The goddess leaned in closer.

"Of course," she murmured. Her voice seemed to trickle down Lyra's spine like water. "I asked for them so that we may share if you would like."

Lyra shivered as the hand on her slid slowly inwards, stopping just shy of travelling fully between her legs. "Th-they do look good."

"Oh, they're that and so much more," Itheia said lowly.

"What do you mean?"

"When an Ayaeva is shared, it merges the pleasure of all who ate from it into one. Such intense connection is exhilarating to gods let alone humans...do you wish to partake?"

The tantalizing aroma from the Ayaeva was starting to make Lyra's mouth water. She ran her thumb over it, feeling the round tautness of its flesh. It was like something eager strained from within it.

Lyra swallowed. "I do, my Lady."

She raised the fruit to her mouth and took a deep bite. Its succulence should have been expected, but she was still surprised by the rush of sweet juices. They ran down her hand and--a little embarrassingly--some escaped her mouth, trickling down her chin. The flesh was tender and ambrosial. A taste like no other that made another bite irresistible.

After Lyra bit a second time, she felt tender fingers wrap around her wrist and gently pull the fruit away. She looked into Itheia's eyes as she chewed. The goddess smiled playfully and brought the Ayaeva to her mouth, laving her tongue over Lyra's bite before taking her own.

Lyra's grip fell slack at the sight and the fruit tipped out of her hand, landing with a soft thud against the rug. She paid it no mind because Itheia was quickly leaning in to kiss her. Their fruit-sweetened lips met and Lyra felt like her universe had righted itself.

Magic flashed silver in Itheia's eyes as she pulled back. Both women's clothes suddenly fell away from them in cool, bright wisps that dropped and vanished like mist. Lyra shivered at the brief chill, gasping as her mind caught up and she realized what had happened. She was fully naked before her equally nude goddess and she couldn't stop her eyes from roaming over what she had long wished to see.

The goddess was stunning. Lyra already knew this of course, but the absence of clothes had opened a new gateway to the appreciation of the immortal form--in particular the gorgeous, round curves of her bare breasts. Itheia had a single marking on her stomach; a white, upside-down crescent moon shape that curved under and up either side of her navel. Lyra found herself wanting to trace it with her fingers, but her hands froze.

She had never done this before; never touched or been touched by anyone like this. It was her first and with a god no less. Arousal and insecurity at her inexperience warred long enough for Lyra's hesitation to become unmistakable.

But her goddess, ever patient, offered gentle guidance. A knowing look crossed her face as she took Lyra by the wrist and led her further into the bed.

"It's all right," Itheia said. "I have much to show you, but for now, just lay back."

"My Lady?"

Itheia put her hands on Lyra's chest and slowly pushed her back to lay on the bed, hovering over her. The scent of her was stronger; wafting from her body and ingrained in the bed covers. Lyra swallowed hard, her heart racing under Itheia's palm.

"You've taken care of me so well," Itheia said. "Let me take care of you."