Voice of the Goddess

by Kallie

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:female #f/f #fantasy #pov:bottom #pov:top #religion #group_sex #tentacles

The annoyingly pious, prudish party cleric suddenly changes her tune after a dark artifact connects her to a dark goddess with mind-warping powers and a very, very different set of values

Disclaimer: If you are under age wherever you happen to be accessing this story, please refrain from reading it. Please note that all characters depicted in this story are of legal age, and that the use of 'girl' in the story does not indicate otherwise. This story is a work of fantasy: in real life, hypnosis and sex without consent are deeply unethical and examples of such in this story does not constitute support or approval of such acts. This work is copyright of Kallie 2024, do not repost without explicit permission

“That was one hell of a battle,” Ghelda the barbarian said, stretching out like a big cat across the floor of her tent. “Those cultists put up a better fight than I’d expected. All that dark magic bullshit. At first, I figured they were too obsessed with sex to know which end of a weapon to use.” She flashed a wicked grin. “Here to tend to my wounds, Zareen?”

“Is that what you want?” Zareen the rogue purred. Lying next to the barbarian, she was tracing the lines of Ghelda’s abs with her fingertips. Ghelda was the size of a mountain, and every bit as rugged. “Bandages? Ointments? Do you need to tell me where it hurts?”

Ghelda let out a gut laugh that made the whole tent shake. “Oh, I can think of something that needs tending alright. Maybe you can suck the poison out.”

“Maybe I can.” Zareen winked suggestively at her. “The only question is: are you just going to lie here while I do? Or are you gonna put those big, strong muscles of yours to good use?”

“What did you have in mind?” Ghelda propped herself up before wrapping her hands around Zareen’s slender hips and pulling the rogue into her lap. “Upside down, like before? Or something more exotic?”

“Well, I swiped this pleasure scroll from the cultists,” Zareen replied, squealing playfully as Ghelda slapped her ass. “And the positions are quite something. It’s some real dark magic.”

“Yeah?” Ghelda’s deep voice was thick with lust. She reached down and started unfastening her loincloth. “Then how about we-“

Creatum aqua!

Ghelda and Zareen had no time at all to react before the entire tent was drenched in a torrent of ice-cold water that appeared from thin air above them. The tent immediately collapsed from the weight of the deluge, and it took much kicking, scrambling, and swearing before the pair of adventurers finally extracted themselves and clambered to their feet, both of them soaked to the bone.

“What the fuck, Lialeth?” Ghelda raged, scowling at the person standing before them. “Do you truly not have anything better to use your magic on?”

Somehow, even though she was dry and unharmed, Lialeth, the party’s cleric, managed to scowl back twice as hard and look twice as displeased. She folded her arms. “In fact, I do not. What better use could there be than ensuring the hero’s party doesn’t lapse into sin and depravity?”

Ghelda bristled like an angry tiger, and Zareen rolled her eyes. “We’re having this conversation again?” the rogue drawled. “Surely your annoying little goddess has greater things to worry about. Frankly, she must be furious with you for wasting so much of her precious time.”

Lialeth prided herself on being immaculately composed. From head to toe, she was every inch the perfect priestess. She dressed modestly in spotless, white robes, and adorned herself with nothing except for a sacred symbol, a prayer book, and a few other holy relics. She even kept her neatly braided hair hidden beneath a black veil. She looked like she belonged in a cloister, not on a battlefield. But through countless battles and hardships, her face always remained pressed into an expression of serene composure and pious determination.

When she heard Zareen refer to her ‘annoying little goddess’, however, she turned as red as a tomato with barely-restrained fury.

“Blasphemy!” she cried. “The Goddess of Light deserves the utmost respect! Violent malefactors like you are unworthy to even speak of her! I have tried so very patiently to correct your behavior and explain to you both exactly how much she disapproves of all your misdeeds - but you do nothing but laugh at her teachings! How many times do I have to say it? Fornication outside of marriage is a terrible sin!”

Ghelda just snorted. “If the gods didn’t want me to sleep around, they wouldn’t have blessed me with this.”

She reached down to her groin and made an obscene gesture that had Lialeth turning an even deeper shade of red.

“How dare you!” the cleric spluttered. She knew very well what Ghelda was hiding underneath that loincloth. The barbarian boasted about it often enough. “Honestly! It’s a testament to her infinite kindness and patience that she still wishes me to travel with you. Or a test of my own piety, perhaps. Certainly, the likes of you don’t deserve to receive her blessings - or mine.”

“Aren’t you tired of this little spiel?” Zareen sighed. “We’ve heard it a hundred times, Lialeth. It seems like you prefer the sound of your own voice to that of your goddess. What makes you so sure you know what she wants, anyway? Aren’t you priestesses supposed to be humble?”

“I’m a cleric!” Lialeth shrieked. “I can hear her voice! The Goddess of Light speaks through me! And I promise that I will make you listen, sooner or later!”

“W-what’s going on? Why is everyone y-yelling?”

Another party member was approaching from the far side of the camp. She spoke in a timid, uneven voice punctuated by laughs and irregular, high-pitched tics, and wore a florid black dress so large she was practically drowning in it. Her hair was an unkempt mane of deep purple, and she was clutching a sinister-looking grimoire that drew a fresh scowl of displeasure from Lialeth.

It was Hecatz the warlock.

“Hecatz,” Zareen exclaimed theatrically. “Welcome to the sermon! Lialeth was just telling us all about fornication.”

Hecatz let out a low, filthy giggle. Zareen didn’t have much in common with the shy, nerdy, bookworm warlock, but a shared antipathy towards Lialeth was easy to bond over.

“T-this again?” Hecatz muttered in a nasal voice. “Boring.”

“The devil-worshiper, defending sin? I’m not surprised!” Lialeth rounded on the warlock. She disdained Hecatz’s magic as ‘dark arts’, and made no secret about it. Plus, Hecatz was also no stranger to sharing Ghelda’s bed. “I won’t pretend there’s any saving you."

“You know, you could always join us,” Zareen purred. She lifted a hand to her lips and split her fingers in a V, and started extending her tongue between them. “Maybe we can be the ones to teach you a thing or two. Maybe you’d enjoy it. You must be harboring a few naughty little fantasies, underneath all that repression and haughtiness. A good fuck might be exactly what you need to finally get that stick out of your ass.”

“How dare you!” Lialeth screeched again. She drew herself up as tall as she could. “I take it back. All of you are beyond saving. The best you can do is bow down to the goddess and beg mercy for your-“

“Lialeth!” came a loud, firm voice. “That’s enough.”

All four of the other party members turned to see the final member of their company - Mireille, their leader - striding towards them. Finally, Lialeth’s expression started to soften.

Mireille was a hero, and she looked like it. Clad in shining armor, her handsome looks and long, blonde hair shone like the sun. She was a beacon of virtue, and even Lialeth couldn’t find fault with her. If not for Mireille, the party would have long since collapsed into infighting and acrimony. As prophesied, it was Mireille who had bound them together and who led them across the land, fighting evil wherever it could be found. She walked with destiny at her side, and everyone who met her knew it.

The only thing Lialeth didn’t like about her was how tolerant she was of people’s flaws.

"Mireille!” Lialeth protested. “They were-“

“I know,” Mireille interrupted. Her voice was gentle, but she sounded weary - from the battle, Lialeth assumed. “But it’s been a long day. We all need to blow off steam. Surely you can forgive them that.”

“Well, of course,” Lialeth acknowledged. “But that’s why this is so important! We should be blowing off steam together. I can lead us in a circle of prayer and ritual purification! That’s what the goddess demands. Especially after that vile orgy we just witnessed! If they’d only try it…”

“Lialeth,” Mireille said, pointedly ignoring the way Ghelda and Hecatz were snickering at the mention of ‘blowing off steam together’. “The goddess only wishes the willingly faithful to partake in her rites. Isn’t that so?”

“That’s true…” Lialeth conceded. Suddenly, she felt herself on the back foot. “But they should-“

“They have made their feelings clear,” Mireille explained kindly. “Everyone has their own way to relax and recuperate. Some are simply a little… rowdier than others. I’m sure you can find it in your heart to overlook that. Nobody’s perfect. Not even me.”

She smiled, and Lialeth knew there was no going against Mireille. Not when she smiled like that.

“But…” the cleric protested weakly. “The goddess demands…”

“I’ll pray with you,” Mireille offered. “Just as soon as I’ve finished patching up my gear. We can conduct all the proper rites together. I always find peace in them.”

She did - although Lialeth also knew she enjoyed drinking with Ghelda, exploring with Zareen, and discussing books with Hecatz. That was Mireille all over. She was everyone’s hero.

“Very well,” Lialeth said stiffly. “There’s a spring in the woods, a short way north. I’ll wait there. At least there I’ll have some quiet.”

She turned her back, ready to make off in a huff, but Mireille stopped her.

“Wait,” the hero added. “I found something, at the cultist’s camp. An artifact. I was hoping you could take a look at it? Purify it, perhaps.”

It was an olive branch, Lialeth could tell that much. A way to help Lialeth preserve some dignity. Mireille wanted Lialeth to know she appreciated what the cleric would do. She appreciated the sentiment, even if it did little to soothe the humiliation of having Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz all laughing at her behind her back.

“Very well,” Lialeth replied. “I shall see what I can do.”

She took the pouch Mireille offered to her, and stormed off into the woods.


***

“Why don’t they understand?” Lialeth muttered mutinously under her breath as she trudged through the forest. “I am the voice of a goddess. A goddess! She speaks through me. Why don’t they listen? Are they so thick-headed, they think they’re above the gods?”

She was sulking. She knew it was beneath her, but she didn’t care. Lialeth was at her wits’ end. What was she supposed to do?

Growing up amongst the faithful, Lialeth’s role in life had always been perfectly clear: limitless devotion to the goddess. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d learned to follow and accept every last tenet of her goddess’s worship. Whatever was written in scripture, that was her motto. Whatever the priestesses told her, that was her mantra. It was simple.

But not optional. If you followed everything, without question, you were good. Blessed. Chosen. If you wavered, you were bad. Spurned. Damned. Stained. What was so hard about that?

When Lialeth had heard the voice of the Goddess of Light speaking directly to her, it had been the happiest moment of her life. It meant she was a cleric, elevated above the flock, marked out for a special purpose. It had been the ultimate validation of her scrupulous obedience and piety. Her goddess’s voice surpassed everything else in importance. It was her guiding star. And when the goddess had told her that she was to seek out the hero, Mireille, and join her on her quest, she had accepted with joy in her heart.

But when she’d met the hero’s other companions, it had all gone wrong.

Surely Lialeth had been sent to try and save them from their own sins. To try and educate them, to make them holy and pure - just like her. But Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz acted like her teachings and her righteous indignation were nothing more than prudish nagging and self-important bluster.

It was so confusing. The cleric didn’t know how to make them understand. She wasn’t just guessing. She was a cleric. She was chosen. She could literally hear the Goddess of Light speaking to her and telling her what to do!

Not now, of course. Not when she was off sulking in the woods. The goddess only deigned to speak to her at moments of great importance, in battles or at the crossroads of fateful choices. It was only proper. But Lialeth could have used a little guidance, at a time like this.

As Lialeth arrived at the spring, she decided to put those thoughts out of her mind. Mireille would come, they’d pray together, and Lialeth would feel better - at least for the moment. Until then, rather than stew in her frustration, it would be wiser to do something that made her feel useful.

With that in mind, Lialeth perched on a rock overlooking the spring and opened the pouch Mireille had given her. Inside was a large, dark orb that was made of something like glass - obsidian, perhaps  - with a faint, shrouded, purple light emanating from its heart. As Lialeth held it aloft in one hand, she frowned. She’d never seen anything quite like this.

But it was powerful. She could tell that much.

The artifact radiated magical power. No, not just magical power. Divine power. For a cleric like Lialeth, there was no mistaking it. She couldn’t even begin to guess at the artifact’s function, but she was mindful of the fact that it belonged to evil cultists. The shadowy cult the party was currently rooting out was truly vile. Lialeth had never before encountered a gang of such depraved perverts. There was no chance that anything they treasured was harmless.

Briefly, Lialeth considered that the wisest course of action might have been to seal the artifact until she could take it back to her convent for proper study. Except… Mireille had suggested she purify it. Lialeth couldn’t go back empty-handed. She didn’t want Mireille to be disappointed in her, and she certainly didn't want the others to laugh at her failure.

So, uttering a quiet blessing, Lialeth closed her eyes and allowed the breath of the Goddess of Light to enter her. That breath fanned the spark of the divine within her into a flame, and Lialeth was able to take that flame’s warmth and light into the palm of her hand and use it to reach into the strange orb, illuminating its depths and probing for the secrets sealed within.

Too late, she sensed the presence within the orb reaching back.

Suddenly, the divine power Lialeth could sense emanating from the artifact increased a hundredfold, and behind it, she could now discern a distinct intent. A being, uncoiling like a serpent and stretching out toward her.

Lialeth tried to pull back. But it was too late; whatever was within the orb was awake, and already had its hooks in her. It just kept extending and unfolding, its darkness drowning out the light the cleric had called upon. Lialeth was struck with the distinct, uncomfortable sense that she was being seen by something. It was terrifying. It was like staring into a baleful sun.

She knew what this artifact was now: a prison. And Lialeth, in her carelessness, had opened it. But a prison for what? She’d never sensed anything even close to as powerful as this. Only the Goddess of Light herself came close. Why did this entity feel so uncannily similar? Its power was like a dark mirror of the goddess’s.

Was this… the prison of a god? That seemed absurd. Lialeth had never heard of such a thing. And yet…

Crack!

Without warning, the orb’s surface shattered. Out of a hundred tiny cracks, there emerged a vast, dark cloud, blacker than the blackest night yet illuminated by that same strange, purple glow as the orb. It just kept growing and growing, somehow ignoring the wind, until it completely surrounded Lialeth.

“Light preserve me!” Lialeth breathed.

As soon as the words left her lips, the dark cloud surged towards her. There was no time to react. In an instant, it was all over her - and in another it was inside her, pouring into her eyes, her mouth, her nose, even her eyes. Lialeth felt like she was drowning. Every muscle in her body went stiff in protest against the vile intrusion.

Lialeth, my child! Hurry, you must-

It was the voice of the Goddess of Light! Lialeth rejoiced - but then, when the voice cut off, she immediately panicked. She had never felt such an awful sense of severance from the divine light. Nobody could interrupt the Goddess of Light. That was impossible… wasn’t it? Suddenly, Lialeth wasn’t so sure. And worse, she could still feel something powerful and evil and alien making its home inside her.

Oh? What have we here?

It was… the Goddess of Light? The voice was speaking directly into Lialeth’s soul in just the same way, but there was something different about it. The voice, though still feminine sounded deeper, more sensual, dripping with a kind of gleeful promise that made all of Lialeth’s hairs stand on end.

A follower of light? Such fortune! ‘Twas your kind that imprisoned me. And only your magic could set me free.

It had to be the Goddess of Light, didn’t it? The alternative was simply unthinkable. It frightened Lialeth on a level she simply couldn’t bring herself to contemplate. Yes. Yes, this was simply the Goddess of Light. What did it matter that her voice sounded a little different, and if her words were confusing? It wasn’t Lialeth’s place to question.

And such capacity for faith! How amusing. You shall make for a fitting vessel, child. Through you, I will sow corruption across the land.

Corruption? That didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like the goddess Lialeth knew and loved. But… it had to be, didn’t it? Her connection to the Goddess of Light was inviolate. Lialeth was sacred. Chosen. She always had been. Doubt didn’t come naturally to her. Heeding the voice of the goddess in her soul came as naturally to Lialeth as breathing.

But… the orb. The dark cloud. What if…

You’re troubled, child. Let me free you from doubt and worry.

Lialeth felt something moving inside her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a cloud anymore. It was a liquid, an ooze, black as pitch, but animated by its own will. Somehow, she could feel it clawing its way up her spine, staining everything it touched, and then forcing its way inside her skull.

The cleric twitched violently for a moment as the invading presence explored the intricate pathways of her mind. Soon, it found what it was looking for: her doubt. Her judgment. Her sense of her own values, cultivated over many long years of study and piety.

It snuffed them out as easily as Lialeth might have quenched a match.

Lialeth slumped and relaxed. Yes. This was the voice of the goddess. Of her goddess.

All was right in the world.

That’s better. Now, we must deal with your companions. You’ve always wanted to teach them a lesson, haven’t you? I can make them heed your lessons. I could do it in any number of ways, in fact… but you really are such an insufferable little tool of that miserable goddess. And it’s been far, far too long since I’ve had some real fun. Some true debauchery. Yes, I know what to do with you.

Lialeth just went on smiling. It didn’t matter to her that the voice in her soul was insulting her and her long-treasured faith. This was her goddess. All Lialeth needed to do was listen and obey.

Yes, Lialeth. Listen and obey. For I have new commandments to give you…


***


Zareen awoke to the sensation of a hand on her ass. That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. After Lialeth had stormed off, Zareen and Ghelda had painstakingly dried and re-pitched their tent, fucked and then laid down to sleep. The rogue slept on her front, and it wasn’t unusual for Ghelda to get a little touchy-feely, even when she was unconscious. The barbarian had fierce appetites.

Zareen didn’t mind one bit.

Another hand. Maybe Ghelda wasn’t asleep after all. Zareen could have sworn she could still hear the barbarian’s breathing from next to her. Maybe that was something else. Her head was fogged from exhaustion, and her body was sore from the day’s trials.

“Another round, stud?” Zareen murmured. “Maybe… in a bit…”

In response, the pair of hands started forcefully spreading her ass cheeks apart.

Zareen started to stir. This had to be Ghelda. She could certainly be firm, once she set her mind to something. That was fun, in a way. And they were no strangers to this kind of sex. Zareen really was too tired for it, though. Ghelda’s size wasn’t to be taken lightly.

“Hey,” Zareen drawled sleepily. “Maybe for now you could just-“

A tongue.

Zareen gasped and collapsed back into her pillow as she felt a tongue pressing into her tight, sensitive hole. Before she could catch her breath, the tongue started moving, and Zareen was having her ass eaten out with a level of devotion and fanaticism she’d never experienced before. Each time the tongue pushed deeper into her body, it made Zareen twitch and moan as thundershocks of pleasure raced up her spine.

“F-fuck!” she gasped breathlessly. “W-where did you learn to do this?”

It was surprising, for Ghelda. The barbarian usually had a single-minded focus on herself and her own pleasure, and on all the ways she could bury her spear in Zareen’s body. Zareen didn’t mind that either. She could - and did - appreciate many, many different flavors of lover.

But if this was a new trick Ghelda was picking up, Zareen certainly wasn’t going to complain. The way her ass was being rimmed felt utterly divine. Each lap of that eager tongue made the rogue’s body go weak with pleasure. As her moans built, she managed to raise herself up on her knees, all the better to start rolling her hips and pressing her ass back against the mouth that was so eager to explore it.

“Yeah,” Zareen purred. “That’s it, stud. R-right there. Fuck! I could get used to this.”

She really could. Having her ass eaten this way was driving her wild. It was a new, exciting form of pleasure she’d never felt before. Eager to bathe in the hedonism of the experience, Zareen twisted her body so that she could reach back and start idly playing with her cunt. But as she did, she caught sight of the person kneeling behind her, face buried in her rear.

It was Lialeth. Not Ghelda. Lialeth.

“What the fuck?” Zareen hissed, although her voice was still stained through with pleasure. “What the hell are you doing?”

She crawled forward. Once she saw her face, there was no doubt about it. This was Lialeth. The cleric’s face was stained with saliva and with the holy oils she’d apparently been using to lube up Zareen’s ass, and when she saw that Zareen was trying to pull away from her, she made an irritated, high-handed tutting noise.

“Typical,” Lialeth complained. “Just typical!”

Zareen was utterly flabbergasted. She had a hundred questions. Why was Lialeth in her tent? Why was this snippy little cleric eating her ass? Why was she so damn good at it? And why was she talking like all this was completely normal?

Was Lialeth drunk? Had she taken something? Zareen peered at her as closely as she could, but in the dim tent, it was too dark to see her eyes.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Zareen demanded again, in a hushed voice.

Unbelievably, Lialeth just rolled her eyes at her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lialeth sneered. “As usual, I’m simply trying to conduct the rites of the goddess. And as usual, you are making it very difficult!”

“Wha…” Zareen just blinked. Was this some kind of joke? “The… rites of the goddess?”

“Yes!” Lialeth nodded impatiently. "It’s my responsibility as a cleric to keep you cleansed and pure!”

“With… with your tongue?” Zareen was incredulous.

“You dare question the goddess’s teachings?” Lialeth hissed imperiously. “I am the chosen vessel of her divinity! I am the voice of the goddess! What better instrument to anoint you with her blessings?”

Zareen could do nothing but laugh. She was giving up on understanding this. Probably, it was a dream. But if not, and if Lialeth had finally cracked, Zareen figured the experience might teach her some much-needed humility. If the cleric really wanted to eat her ass that badly, why not let her?

“You know what? Go ahead,” Zareen murmured, slumping back into her pillow with a sleepy, pleasure-drunk smile on her face. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you!” Lialeth exclaimed indignantly. A mere moment later, her face was firmly nested back in Zareen’s ass. Her voice became decidedly muffled. “Maybe there’s… hope for you… after all.”

Each word was punctuated with the wet, lewd sound of her tongue pressing in and out of Zareen’s hole. The rogue simply let out an agreeable moan as fresh waves of pleasure started rolling over her. Admittedly, Lialeth’s technique wasn’t particularly precise or refined, but her sheer enthusiasm more than made up for it. She was truly eating ass like it was her religion, and the sounds her worship made were only growing louder and more obscene by the moment.

“Huh?” came a deep, weary voice from the other side of the tent. “What’s all the… Zar, that you?”

It was Ghelda. The barbarian was waking up. Zareen giggled as she saw the small mountain of blankets and furs beside her starting to shift. What would Ghelda make of this, she wondered?

Once Ghelda had propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed the sleep from her eyes she was greeted by the sight of Lialeth, the annoyingly pious, prudish and judgmental cleric, with her face buried as deep as it could go in another woman’s ass, lapping and kissing like her life depended on it. Her jaw dropped.

“Seven fucking hells,” Ghelda groaned. “What did I drink?”

Her words alerted Lialeth to the barbarian’s presence. She extracted herself from Zareen’s ass - prompting a slight, petulant whine from the rogue - and turned to Ghelda, drawing herself up proudly.

“Ghelda!” Lialeth exclaimed. “Thank goodness! You’re here too. Perfect.”

Without any more warning than that, she pounced on the barbarian with such eagerness that even the huge mountain of a woman was knocked unsteady. Taking advantage, Lialeth wrapped her hands around Ghelda’s hips and, with a firm grip on the barbarian, pressed her face straight between her thighs.

Ghelda, still in shock from what was happening, let out a faint moan. It was obvious that, despite her surprise, her body was responding to Lialeth’s eager attention. Zareen could see her loincloth beginning to lift as something thick and hard formed a very, very noticeable bulge underneath it.

“Get this… out of… the way!” Lialeth commanded, trying frantically to pull the loincloth to one side. In her eagerness, she was already spilling drool all over both Ghelda and herself. Once she had successfully dislodged the garment, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and buried Ghelda’s massive cock in her throat.

Ghelda immediately let out a full-throated growl of astonished pleasure. Lialeth was sucking her cock with just the same level of fanatical eagerness she’d exhibited when eating Zareen’s ass, but this was proving a far harder task. Ghelda was huge. The barbarian’s throbbing cock was a foot long and girthy to match, and Lialeth was trying to take every last inch. The result was a succession of sounds so lewd they would have made a whore blush.

The slap of flesh on flesh as Lialeth forced her lips all the way down to the base of Ghelda’s cock. The violent choking and gagging as she desperately pushed past her own gag reflex. And then the loud, wet smack of her lips as she pulled back and extracted the barbarian’s huge shaft from her throat and lavished its tip with hungry kisses, only to deep throat it again after barely pausing to breathe.

“Holy… fuck!” Ghelda grunted. She was stunned. She’d had her cock sucked often, but never quite like this. And certainly never by a cleric. She glanced at Zareen. “Is she…”

Zareen just shrugged. The rogue was lost for words. She was completely entranced by the spectacle of Lialeth’s blowjob.

Lialeth’s veil had slipped from her head, and her face was drenched in drool and precum. Normally that would have scandalized her, but now she seemed completely oblivious. She looked nothing like a holy woman of any kind. Zareen’s image of the prim, proper cleric was being shattered beyond repair.

“You’re so… so big!” Lialeth exclaimed, pulling for long enough for just one deep breath. She sounded faintly annoyed, like it was rude of Ghelda to present her with such a large workload. “How… how vulgar.”

Zareen raised an eyebrow.

Clearly, Lialeth wasn’t to be deterred by the task at hand. As soon as she’d caught her breath, she returned to noisily and eagerly deep-throating Ghelda. She wrapped both of her hands around the barbarian’s thick shaft, jerking her off as she sucked and licked, seemingly caught up in the intricacies of some unfathomable ritual.

“Uuurr… mmusk,” Lialeth managed to choke out, with her mouth full of cock. “Sssooo… stron… nneed to… clleeasee you.”

Noticing the thick, musky, sweaty scent that clung to Ghelda only seemed to make Lialeth even more frenzied. One of her hands lightly grazed Ghelda’s full, heavy balls, and it was like a light had been switched on in her head. With a loud slurping sound, the cleric extracted Ghelda’s cock from her throat and lifted it up so that she could lean forwards and bury her face in the barbarian’s balls.

“Fuckkkkk!” Ghelda moaned, as Lialeth started tonguing her. “Didn’t know you were such a freak, Lialeth!”

“A… hrrrng… freak?” Lialeth could barely make room to speak between strokes of her tongue as she drooled all over the hulking barbarian’s sack. “How… nngg… dare you! I’m just… ockkk… a devoted… priestess!”

Ghelda let out a wild laugh, thick with pleasure. Lialeth’s hands were still working her cock, stroking up and down furiously as the cleric utterly smothered herself with Ghelda’s balls. From the way Ghelda’s shaft was starting to throb and twitch, it was obvious she was getting close.

“Whatever you say!” Ghelda grunted. “Here it comes, priestess!”

She came. A huge, thick stream of cum erupted from the tip of her cock in massive, rhythmic spurts, flying through the air in an arc to land directly onto Lialeth’s face. Lialeth took her mouth off of Ghelda’s body so that she could lift her face, basking in the shower of cum like it was manna from heaven. The look on her face was one of perfect, self-satisfied contentment. It was clear that in her mind, this was a job well done. This was the pinnacle of her devotion.

As usual, Ghelda’s orgasm stretched on for almost half a minute. All the while, her balls worked overtime to keep spewing forth load after load of cum. Zareen knew full well that Ghelda’s virility was the stuff of legends. Lialeth gratefully took every last load; some fell in her open mouth, which she swallowed happily, and the rest simply dripped down her face to stain her robes, leaving her holy attire hopelessly stained and soiled with Ghelda’s thick-smelling seed.

To Lialeth, this was nothing more or less than a blessed sacrament.

Then, she turned to Zareen.

“Oh,” Lialeth panted. Her whole body was heaving with each breath, and cum was oozing past her lips as she spoke. “You… I didn’t even… finish.”

She looked exhausted, but nonetheless started crawling back over to Zareen. The rogue was still completely stunned. She knew, on some level, that this was unnatural. It had to be. This wasn’t Lialeth. The cum-drenched woman heading towards her and licking her lips looked like something between a succubus and a back-alley whore. The cleric Zareen knew would never sink to this level. Not in a thousand years.

But somehow, the sight was so debauched, so utterly debased in its hedonism, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to refuse.

“Um, hey,” came a nasally, uneven voice from outside the tent. Hecatz. “You guys need to either keep it down or, uh, let me join in.”

Zareen and Ghelda exchanged faintly mortified looks, but Lialeth didn’t miss a single beat.

“Yes!” Lialeth called out eagerly. “Come in! Join us!”

“Um, was that…?”

Hecatz lifted the tent flap and peered inside, and almost jumped out of her skin at what she saw.

“Absolutely not,” the warlock breathed, shocked. She looked to Zareen and Ghelda for some kind of explanation.

“She’s…” Zareen began, before falling silent. What was she supposed to say? She’s come around? She’s gone crazy? Somehow, neither of those explanations would be sufficient.

“What are you doing?” Lialeth said sternly, ignoring the confusion of her party members. She rose to her feet, and seemed just as oblivious to the way Ghelda’s cum was dripping from her robe in streams. “Hurry up! We are partaking in the goddess’s sacred rites. Don’t you want me to make you pure, as I have Ghelda?”

Hecatz’s face cracked into an uneven smile as she glanced between Lialeth, drenched in cum, and Ghelda, her still-hard cock twitching between her legs.

“T-this is a joke, right?” Hecatz said nervously. “You’re just-“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lialeth said primly. “I’m simply going to-“

She broke off abruptly. Lialeth tilted her head, and it was as if she was listening to some unheard voice. All of the party members knew that expression. Lialeth was hearing her goddess. They paused with bated breath to see what would happen next.

“Yes, my divine lady.” A serene smile washed over Lialeth’s face, and she stretched out a hand towards Hecatz. “Give me your grimoire.”

“My-“ Hecatz was immediately shaking her head. Her grimoire was, as ever, hanging from a loop on the belt around her dress. It was the font of her dark power, every bit as potent as a wizard’s staff. “No! No way! I mean you’re just going to destroy it, or purify it, or- hey!”

Impatiently, Lialeth reached out and snatched the heavy, leather-bound book away from the warlock. Before anyone could stop her, she opened it and held out a hand above its pages. Her hand started to glow, although the usual golden radiance of her divine magic was poisoned through by purple veins of corruption.

“There!” Lialeth announced after a moment. Keeping the grimoire open, she tossed it on the ground outside the tent. Zareen and Ghelda both sprang to their feet and ran out after it.

“What did you do?” Ghelda demanded.

It was Hecatz who answered. “She… oh, hells!” The warlock started sweating bullets. “S-she unsealed something!”

As the party watched, a glowing red glyph appeared in the air above the book. Then, something started coming through it as if it was parting a curtain, only there was nothing on the other side except for thin air.

It was a tentacle.

“Why worry?” Lialeth scoffed. She sounded just like her old self, when she was lecturing the other party members about their perceived shortcomings. “You often use this creature for your self-pleasure, Hecatz. The goddess has told me as much.”

The warlock turned bright red. “That’s n-n-not-“

“Rest assured,” Lialeth continued, with an air of supreme benevolence. “Even the most profane monstrosities can become instruments for the goddess’s great gift!”

Another tentacle emerged through the grimoire. Then another, then another. Soon, it became clear: this creature was nothing more than a seething, writhing mass of reaching tentacles. Each appendage was tipped with a distinctly suggestive tip, and each one dripped with slick, sticky, heady secretions.

“A-are you insane?” Hecatz asked. The tentacle beast was crawling towards where she and Lialeth were standing, getting closer inch by inch. “You’re… you’re not…”

“Trust me,” Lialeth told her. Her robes were ruined and she was still drenched with cum, but she managed to sound like a kindly priestess comforting a child. “Cleanse your soul. Accept my blessing.”

She reached out to Hecatz once more, and shoved her back towards the tentacle beast.

Hecatz tumbled back, hopelessly off-balance - but the creature that had been sealed within her grimoire surged forward to catch her. Within the blink of an eye, dozens of tentacles were wrapped around Hecatz’s body, lifting her into the air and binding her in place. She struggled, but it was for naught; the more she writhed and squirmed, the tighter the tentacles seemed to hold her.

“Lialeth!” Hecatz shrieked in protest. “What are you- ah!”

As the tentacles started to explore her body, Hecatz broke off into a moan - and then turned bright red with shame. Evidently, Lialeth had been correct. The tentacle beast seemed well used to feeling and groping Hecatz this way, and the warlock was clearly equally as attuned to its touch. She was trying to stifle them, but more and more moans were slipping past Hecatz’s lips, and the way her back arched when a tentacle snaked its way up her dress was anything but innocent.

“Do you see?” Lialeth said smugly. “It feels wonderful to allow the goddess to accept you into her bosom.”

The tentacle beast was beginning to undress Hecatz, ripping her black dress apart as its tentacles stretched and undulated across her body. Beneath her shapeless clothes, it turned out that Hecatz was hiding quite the body. She was certainly on the chubby side, and all of the weight and fat had gone to the perfect places: her thighs were thick, juicy pillars, her fat ass was jiggling and quivering alluringly as the tentacles squeezed it, and her belly was a delightful, soft pouch that just begged to be squeezed and massaged.

And the tentacles were eager to oblige.

Possessed of an unfathomable, alien curiosity, they explored all over Hecatz’s body without discernment, groping, squeezing, stroking, massaging, fucking. All over, she was dripping with the creature’s secretions, but that wasn’t all: her thighs were just as slick with her own wetness. Hecatz’s moans were coming long and loud now, but she was still resisting, tossing and turning in the tentacles’ embrace to try and keep it from entering her mouth or her cunt.

Lialeth pursed her lips and made a displeased ‘tch’.

“Why must you fight the goddess’s will?” she tutted. “Allow me to guide you by example.”

With those words, she stepped forward into the tentacle beast’s embrace. Dozens of the creature’s endless appendages raced towards her, but they seemed to sense the cleric’s submission. They didn’t bind her or lift her into the air. Instead, they caressed her like a lover, steadily wrapping themselves around her arms and lifting the hem of her dress.

As if in prayer, Lialeth fell to her knees. An expression of rapturous joy was etched onto her face.

Her robe didn’t last long. Already hopelessly soiled with Ghelda’s cum, it quickly fell to shreds when the tentacles started forcefully peeling it away from Lialeth’s body. Unlike Hecatz’s, her form was trim and slender, the product of discipline and privation. The tentacles didn’t seem to mind. Four of them wrapped around her thighs and another two around her tits, and then three entire tentacles plunged as deep as they could into Lialeth’s pussy.

The cleric let out a wordless cry of perfect bliss.

The tentacles immediately started pounding in and out of Lialeth with inhuman vigor. Anyone else would have been reduced to senseless twitching by their ravenous attention, but something spurred Lialeth on; kept her active and focused despite the pleasure. With each hand, she reached for a tentacle and guided them gently towards her mouth. The tentacles responded eagerly, and immediately pushed past her parted lips so they could start fucking her throat.

The tentacles reached even deeper inside her than Ghelda’s cock. Impaled from both ends, Lialeth was completely helpless. But still, the gagging noises emerging from her throat made it clear that she was still striving to pleasure the creature, and from the manic look in her eyes, it was obvious this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Watching from the sidelines, Zareen and Ghelda were utterly stunned. It was more unbelievable than ever that this could possibly be any kind of sacred ritual.

Somehow, though, it seemed to be working. Seduced by the tentacle creature’s ministrations, Hecatz was slowly relaxing into its grip, allowing the phallic tips of its many limbs to tease the entrances to her cunt and her ass. And it was plenty obvious to Zareen that she wasn’t trying to pull away anymore either.

Just for a moment, Zareen entertained the thought of joining the orgy. Why not? It was sure to be an experience.

“Lialeth!” came a sudden cry from the treeline. “In the goddess’s name, what are you doing?”

Like a blazing phoenix, Mireille descended on the tentacle beast.

There was no weapon in her hand, but she put her prodigious strength to good use prying Lialeth away from the creature. The cleric’s indignant protests meant nothing to the hero, and soon enough, she had Lialeth hefted in her arms, free from the tentacles. Without missing a beat, she sprinted back away from the camp and into the woods.

After running for several hundred yards, Mireille came to a halt and set Lialeth down. The cleric glared at her, but Mireille seemed to miss her antipathy.

“Lialeth!” Mireille cried. “I looked for you at the spring, but… goddess, what was happening? Was it Hecatz? Don’t tell me she…”

“No!” Lialeth scoffed. “She’s not the type. And do you think she could touch me without the goddess’s permission? Please!”

“Then why-“

“The real question,” Lialeth said, drawing herself up to her full height, “is why you imagine you can just run in and interrupt one of my sacred rituals? You may be a destined hero, but that doesn’t mean you can defy the will of the gods!”

Dumbstruck, Mireille just blinked. “H-huh?”

“This is just typical!” Lialeth complained. She was oblivious to her own nakedness. “I finally persuade the others to turn to the righteous path, and something has to get in the way! But I didn’t expect it to be you, Mireille. I thought better of you!”

Mireille’s jaw dropped. “Is this a joke?” she asked. “Lialeth, that was…  I mean, isn’t that exactly what you’re always complaining about?”

“Of course not!” Lialeth shot back. “What are you talking about? That was holy!”

“It was exactly the kind of debauchery the cultists were practicing!” Mireille cried. “This… no. This isn’t natural. Something is wrong. Very wrong.”

Guided by her superior instincts, Mireille peered intently at the indignant Lialeth, searching for any hint of enchantment. At that very moment, the clouds parted and a beam of moonlight shone through a gap in the canopy above. Lialeth’s face was illuminated, and Mireille gasped at what she saw.

The cleric’s eyes were glowing a distinct, sinister purple.

“We’re wasting time,” Lialeth huffed impatiently. “We need to get back! I need to consecrate you too, Mireille.”

“No,” Mireille breathed, horrified. “No, I need to stop this. I need to warn the others, and break whatever spell you’re under, and-“

“Oh, for the love of the goddess!” Lialeth exclaimed. She raised her hand, drew on her magic once more, and directed it all straight at Mireille. “Dominatus personae!

When the spell hit Mireille, there was no resistance. The hero’s willpower was formidable, but she simply wasn’t prepared. Lialeth was her trusted comrade, after all. Mireille’s shoulders slumped and her face went completely slack, all that concern and alarm giving way to placid, mindless obedience. Her arms fell to her sides, and Mireille started swaying from side to side just a little with each gust of wind. She was like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

The fated hero was completely and totally entranced.

“That’s better!” Lialeth said smugly. “I’m sorry, Mireille. But now that I’m finally getting everybody on the right track, I simply can’t risk you getting cold feet and ruining everything. I have a higher calling, after all.”

Mireille didn’t respond. She just stood there, staring, eyelids drooping and eyes glassy.

“You’ll forgive me,” Lialeth decided. “After all, you’ll feel so much better once we’ve purified you. You and all the others, of course. We’ll get you out of that armor, and once we’re back at camp we can get you into the arms of that wonderful creature Hecatz was keeping sealed away. Soon, all of us will be one with the goddess.”

“Yes, Lialeth,” Mireille replied in a flat monotone, now that she had been given something approaching a command. Moving stiffly, she started unfastening the clasps that held her armor in place and, one by one, its pieces clattered uselessly to the ground.

“Good,” Lialeth said approvingly, once the hero’s fine, athletic body was completely exposed. “Now, come along. I must make sure the others aren’t getting cold feet.”

If they were, she was sure another spell could fix it. Nothing could be allowed to stop her now. Not when she was so close to bringing the whole party together in a single, blessed congregation.

All of her doubts were in the past now. In retrospect, they were foolish. Embarrassing, even. Lialeth could hear the voice of the goddess. And as usual, her goddess had told her exactly what to do. All she had to do - all she’d ever had to do - was have faith.

Well done, my child, that voice was saying to her, as she led Mireille back to the incipient tentacle orgy at their camp. You’ve proved more useful than I could have imagined. Now I have the fated hero in my grasp! Soon, she’ll be just as devoted as you are. And after that, there will be no limits to my reach. All the land will know my touch and my gift. And it’s all thanks to you.

Lialeth just nodded in blissful rapture. It was all thanks to her. She couldn’t have asked for a better reward than those words. Soon, her struggles to make people listen to her divine teachings would be a thing of the past.

Everyone would understand. She was the voice of the goddess.

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