Reformation

"Ah." Dolea made sure not to stare. "I can understand your frustration."

"My so-called worshipers make a mockery of me with these willful blasphemies!" Theanax hissed. Dolea now understood the source of her blush. Not flattery, but humiliation. "Give me one reason I shouldn't ride down from Ouranos and teach them the error of their ways."

"I beg you, sister, don't be too hasty!" Dolea begged urgently. "Surely you can see it from their perspective."

Theanax's eyes flashed with rage. "From. Their. Perspective?"

"Surely, merciful queen!" Dolea pleaded. "After all, you're a mother goddess. Isn't that so?"

"I preside over motherhood," Theanax agreed cautiously. "But I am not - I will never be - a mere wetnurse."

"The furthest thing!" Dolea agreed swiftly. "But milk is the mother's bounty. It seems innocent enough to me, for that aspect of your worship to have come to prominence."

"I do not like it." Theanax folded her arms over her pregnant belly. "What kind of proud mother-queen sits on her throne with milk dripping out of her tits? And anyway, I worry about what this particular little trend represents."

"What do you mean, sister?"

"I am the Bull-Queen," Theanax said firmly. "The bull is a proud symbol of strength, dominance and kingship. It always has been. That is one thing I won't forsake."

"Of course!" Dolea replied. "No one would expect you to."

"I'm not so sure!" Theanax shot back petulantly. "I've been listening very carefully to their prayers. I hear what they say about me. It's in my ears all the time. But I'm determined not to let it shape me."

"Surely it cannot be all that bad, whatever it is."

Theanax went very still and tight-lipped before spitting out a firm vow. "I am not a cow goddess. Do you understand me? I will never be a cow goddess. It is unthinkable."

Dolea made a great show of being scandalized at the very thought before even attempting to assuage her sister's anger. "Absolutely, sister. Unthinkable. Though, I dare to venture... perhaps, in your great wisdom, you can bring yourself to understand how those foolish mortals could have committed such an error without meaning any offense against your esteemed divinity."

The look on Theanax's face as she stared at Dolea was more dangerous than ever. "And how would that be, precisely?" Her voice was as cold as winter snow.

Dolea was almost certain she'd overstepped, but she'd already committed herself. "Bulls and cows are, after all, essentially the same except for-"

"Enough!" Theanax shrieked, stamping her foot. "Begone at once! Never return here! I hear my lover waking, and if they don't soothe my wrath, perhaps it will be you who witnesses my fury instead of those mortals you hold so precious. Get out of my sight!"

And so, for the second time, Dolea the trickster fled the halls of Ouranos.

***

The third time the trickster goddess Dolea was summoned to Ouranos, she came cautiously, remembering her sister's threat. But as it transpired, she needed not have worried. The Theanax who met her there was so completely transformed as to be all but unrecognizable.

"Sister!" Theanax cried, throwing her arms around Dolea with wild abandon. "Ah, I'm so glad to see you! It's been too long."

"Sister," Dolea echoed. "You look... well. Well as ever, I'd say."

Theanax grinned and preened at the praise, giving Dolea more than enough chances to stare in disbelief at the changes that had washed over the queen of the gods.

She looked young. Younger than ever, in fact. She had the youthful beauty of a nymph, and about the same sense of propriety. She wore the clothes Dolea had previously seen on Theanax's statue: gold-woven lingerie so small and thin it hid almost nothing. A massive collection of jewels and gems clung to her form, all in gold, their quantity and lack of quality making her look even cheaper and more shameless than her clothing did. She held in her hand a refilling cup of heady ambrosia, which she kept drinking deeply from. Theanax had become so wanton.

Her full, pregnant belly was about the only way Dolea could still identify her sister.

The other telltale signs were still present, though. Most notably, Theanax's crown - although 'tiara' seemed a better term. No one but Theanax would dare wear a crown in Ouranos. It was just as frivolous and gaudy as all her other trinkets, but Dolea could pick out a new marker of Theanax's divinity, a plain mockery of the old in size and stature.

Two small, nub-like horns, sculpted into her little tiara.

How the Bull-Queen had fallen.

But it wasn't Dolea's place to judge, so she bowed her head and asked: "What service can I perform for you, my queen?"

"I need your advice," Theanax replied, with a slight sense of urgency. "Your worldly wisdom."

"Is it your mortal worshipers again?"

"Yes!" Theanax seized on the notion. "At least, I think so. It's become difficult for me to... please, come and take a look for yourself."

Dolea nodded. Theanax's confusion was understandable, Dolea mused to herself, given how rapidly and drastically mortals' perception of her had shifted. Especially since wisdom did not seem to be a trait they now attached to the queen of the gods.

Theanax led Dolea through the sky-halls of Ouranos, towards her altar, and Dolea took a moment to look around. Ouranos itself was as changeless as ever, but there were still changes to be seen. Notably, there was not one mortal lover sleeping beside Theanax's throne. There were dozens. A huge pile of muscular women; all flushed, olive skin and dripping, sex-scented sweat, occasionally twitching and humping and moaning sleepily.

How Theanax's appetites had grown.

"Here," Theanax said.

The altar she'd led them to was covered in mortal offerings and sacrifices, but Theanax swept them all aside so she could wave her hand over her scrying bowl and conjure an image of her greatest temple. She gestured for Dolea to look. The trickster goddess braced herself, and peered within.

The sight of what was going on within Theanax's sanctuary was so shocking it made Dolea's breath catch in her throat. It was complete debauchery. The light was low and incense smoke hung heavy in the air, lending the proceedings the intimate, lurid quality of a brothel. All over the walls and altars, imagery of cows had all but supplanted that of bulls, and imagery of queenship was nowhere to be found. Theanax as a goddess of motherhood and fertility remained a prominent theme, but all the mosaics and carvings seemed to depict her motherly form with perverse, leering eyes.

And then there was the ritual being carried out at the heart of the temple.

Dolea had to suppose it was a ritual, although there was little to elevate it beyond what it was: a hundred mortals clambering over one another in a religious frenzy, all fucking and kissing and groping, and, when their mouths weren't filled with one another's bodies, moaning delirious prayers to Theanax. It was plainly an orgy, but the most obscene blasphemy was reserved for the figure at its heart.

At the heart of the orgy was a woman - a priestess, Dolea guessed. She was the one everyone was reaching for and adoring with pleasure, and her lustful moans were shocking given the way her belly was swollen with child. But she didn't just moan, she brayed and mooed like a beast, and wore a tiara that was a match for the one currently rested on Theanax's brow.

Theanax's mortal worshipers were fucking an avatar of their goddess.

Dolea steeled herself. This one was going to be difficult.

"I... suppose you'd like me to explain this?" she ventured.

To her surprise, Theanax shook her head. The great goddess wore an expression of worry on her face.

"What needs explaining?" she lamented. "This is normal, it seems. The same thing plays out in all my temples, all across the world. And I can't deny that it feels so very..." She trailed off for a moment to close her eyes and shiver rapturously, before opening them again. "But I also feel that... sister, it wasn't always like this, was it?"

Dolea blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"I keep having these thoughts," Theanax confessed in a hushed voice. "These doubts. Sometimes, it doesn't feel right. I know I'm a goddess of pleasure and hedonism, yes, but... wasn't there a time my breasts didn't always drip with milk so lewdly? Wasn't there a time I had a crown with mightier horns? I remember - I think I remember - people respecting me. Fearing me."

"Oh, sister..." It pained Dolea to see her own sister beset by such doubts. Clearly, she needed to help her.

"Is it true, Dolea?" Theanax pressed. "You'd remember, I think. You've always had a talent for such things."

"Let me set your mind at ease," Dolea said softly. She put her arm across Theanax's shoulder; she sensed the closeness would be welcome. "Close your eyes, sister. Allow me to enlighten you."

Theanax did as she was bid. Dolea put her lips close to her ear.

"Now listen," she murmured. "Open your ears, queen of the gods. Open your mind. Not to me. But to them. Listen to the prayers of your followers."

Theanax shivered, and Dolea could tell she was listening. "It's all so... so obscene."

"Listen deeper," Dolea urged. "Quiet your mind for a moment. Breathe deep. Remember, you are on the highest throne in the highest hall. You are unassailable, my sister. There's nothing for you to worry about. Nothing at all."

Her soft, gentle, melodic words seemed to lull Theanax into a state of calm as she gave herself over to the prayers of her devout. The goddess seemed to become little more than a leaf falling into a stream, letting the current take her away. Dolea couldn't hear the prayers for herself, but she had read some of them on the lips of Theanax's followers.

"O Theanax, of the bosom and the bedchamber," Dolea repeated softly. "Let us share in your bounty. Give us pleasure. Give us milk. Hear us, lady of the fertile field. Bequeath to us your shamelessness, that we may enjoy without fear. Bless us with the gift of your unrestrained lusts."

Theanax shivered and let out a low moan that was almost a moo. Dolea allowed herself a smile. It was working. There was no fighting it. They were dealing in the deep magic of the gods.

"Foolish maiden of Ouranos," Dolea intoned, echoing the beseeching of mortals. "Take our gaudy gifts for your pleasure, and in exchange, show us your favor! Bless us with the gift of fertility you yourself accidentally received."

Theanax mooed and moaned again as she gave herself to the rhythms of her new worship. Just a little more, Dolea judged.

"Goddess of Pleasure," she chanted. "Goddess of Sex. Goddess of Milk. Goddess of Fertility. Goddess of Debauchery. Breathe your indulge to us like a wind. Let us delight in all that glitters and sparkles. Let us dance, cavort, drink, consummate, as you do. Without restraint. Without care. Without shame."

This time, even when Dolea stopped speaking, Theanax's lips were still moving as she echoed the fervent prayers of her devoted. Dolea let her immerse herself in them for a few more moments, all the better to assuage those nagging doubts that had been eating at her poor sister.

"You see?" she said eventually, in a louder, clearer voice. "There's nothing to worry about, my sister. This is simply how you've always been. Our scandalous, shameless, hedonist queen."

"O-of course," Theanax replied. She sounded breathy and absent. "Thank you for setting me at ease, Dolea."

She opened her eyes. Now, when Dolea looked into them, there was no hint of the goddess's former fierceness or sharpness. Her eyes were like dull glass. It was like a light had gone out of her.

It was perfect.

"In that case, I'll leave you to your harem," Dolea said playfully, glancing at the pile of drunk, heaving women. Theanax giggled and licked her lips. "But first, would you grant me the honor of anointing you?"

"Oh! Of course, sister," Theanax replied. "It's the least I can do. Forgive me for not inviting you to do so sooner!"

Dolea just nodded politely, and bowed as if she was grateful. Then, she reached for the offerings that had been transported to Theanax's altar. Each one was some kind of pleasure-toy, wrought in shining gold, and each more obscene than the last. Dolea took her time selecting the one that looked the largest and meanest, and held it up to Theanax's mouth.

With an expression of serene, regal divinity on her face, Theanax wrapped her lips around the end of the sex toy's shaft and started to suck.

Dolea watched for a moment, a smile playing across her face. This was another delightful little ritual she knew that Theanax's mortal followers had developed, and she was pleased to see that it seemed to have sunk deep into the goddess's mind.

Once the phallus was slick with Theanax's drool, Dolea lifted it away from her lips. Then, she used her other hand to pull aside her sister's clothes. A moment later, she pushed the sex toy as deep as she could into Theanax's divine cunt.

The moan Theanax made as the golden cock stretched her out was even louder and more shameless than Dolea had hoped. The queen of the gods started drooling, her eyes rolling back into her head, and as her body twitched with pleasure, milk erupted from her tits, soaking the golden cloth that covered her chest and dripping down over the rest of her body.

She looked nothing like a queen. She looked like a whore.

"T-t-thank you," Theanax moaned. As Dolea pulled away, she squeezed her legs together to keep the massive toy inside her. "Y-you may go, sister."

Dolea performed another low bow, and turned away. As she did, she saw Theanax walking bandy-legged as she made her way back over to her harem of mortal lovers, eager to drown herself even deeper in sex and pleasure.

This time, as the trickster goddess departed Ouranos, she left with a smile on her face.

***

The fourth time Dolea came visiting to Ouranos, she came uninvited. Once, she would have thought twice about trespassing in Theanax's halls. Now, she knew that her sister was beyond such things.

Undermining Theanax had been so simple, in the end. All it had taken was Dolea realizing the power of a few words in the right ear, at the right time. That was all it took to spread myths and rewrite whole religions, if you were as patient as an immortal could afford to be.

And the results had surpassed her wildest expectations.

When she came upon Theanax, the once-great goddess was too lost to pleasure to even notice that her sister had arrived. The sight was nothing less than total debauchery. The whole of Ouranos stank of it. Theanax was at the center of a huge crowd of mortal women, all drunk off ambrosia and the aphrodisiac of their goddess's presence, all crawling over themselves to try to touch and violate her.

It was a perfect mirror to the ritual Theanax had once balked at seeing.

Theanax, at the center of the orgy, was diminished more than ever. She looked like a young nymph in the throes of her first heat. Her golden clothes, such as they were, were torn and discarded, leaving the goddess clad in nothing but cheap jewels. Her tiara had become little more than a band for her small, nub-like cow horns, and she was wearing what looked like a golden cowbell around her neck like a collar.

Dolea's smile twisted mockingly at the sight. She wasn't directly responsible for that particular detail. Mortals could get so creative, once you set them in the right direction.

As dozens of mortals groped and kissed her from all angles, Theanax was bouncing on a golden cock that had been mounted to the floor, eagerly fucking herself on it in pursuit of more pleasure. Her tits, swollen and huge, bounced and heaved along with her, spraying milk all over the crowd of her faithful. That, along with the way her eternally-pregnant belly looked, heaving, covered in milk and cum, was beyond obscene.

Dolea was particularly proud of that little twist on Theanax's personal mythology. What better way to ruin a mother goddess than by making her a maiden fallen into an illegitimate pregnancy because of her wild, insatiable lusts?

And now, she was no longer even a queen. That had been the last part of the old Theanax Dolea had erased, but perhaps the easiest. After all, who would worship the kind of queen who was constantly sinking off her throne to her knees to beg for sex?

Now, Theanax was a goddess of sex and pleasure - and little more.

Which meant that the throne of Ouranos was open.

It took Dolea a few minutes to locate Theanax's old crown, forgotten and discarded behind one of the massive marble pillars. She was delighted to find that it fit neatly on her own head. The other gods would resist, surely. But now that Dolea knew how to influence mortals, her victory was all but assured - eventually.

That thought kept a smile on Dolea's face as she sat down on Ouranos's mighty throne, claiming the prize that her sister had taken from her long ago.

Dolea, the Trickster-Queen. Yes, that had a nice ring to it.