For some time now, a figure has sat on the altar. The darkness is broken only by the Procession and a single candle, set next to a basket that the neck of a wine bottle protruding from it. The figure himself is tall and dark, and dressed well - but even without the robes of a Mind Mage, it is easy to recognize Cyprian.
"You are entirely too patient," Snowcora remarks from the shadows, but soon slips into view. She is dressed as she usually is, a fur cloak and little else, meaning her tattoos and jewelry glints in the light, along with the large 'gem' of Inala embedded just above her vulva ... which the shrine maiden has actually put in chains tonight! Yes, she's even wearing the chastity chain; though it does tend come off when that part of her is needed. It's bee a while since the bat has been human, so she's feeling rather vulnerable right now; deaf, naked, and defenseless.
"Mages learn to be patient, or they do not progress very far," Cyprian says as he stands up. "Still, I am glad you deigned to notice me. I hope this is not an inconvenient time.. but I have no other way of contacting you."
Snowcora slinks over and presses up against the mage (perhaps to feel safer). "You act as if I would not wish to see you," the human comments. "Few are actually brave enough to visit someone ... so heavily marked and obviously the property of the Kindly Ones."
"I am certain they don't mind my presence," Cyprian claims, and does put an arm around Snowcora. "Are you cold?" he asks. "I brought some wine. I.. just wanted to see you."
"I am always cold, that should be obvious enough when the twins are standing at attention all the time," the human teases, stands on her toes, and kisses his cheek. "You just wished to see me? No requests of the Goddesses? No wishes for more information or help?"
"No business at all," Cyprian says, and.. smiles. He's clearly not that used to it. "Is that all right? Do you mind if I have no other motive?"
Snowcora lowers her hood. "No, I don't mind. It is just ... I am not used to people wishing to see me. the human bound into service," the tattooed human says with a smile. She gestures at herself. "Most find out I look ... disturbing."
"Superficial things," Cyprian says, and offers Snowcora a seat on the altar. "Such as we are often bound by our duty and our.. image. It is easy to forget that we are people. So.. I ask that you not be the Shrine Maiden tonight, as I am not the Avenger."
Snowcora climbs up and sits on the altar. "No shrine maiden? So, you do not wish me to invoke blessings upon you?" she asks as she playfully runs her hands down Cyprian's front. "Inala's are especially effective here..."
"Well, you may invoke your blessings, if you like," Cyprian offers and winks, then removes two elegant wine glasses from the basket before lifting out the bottle. "I hope you like red wine. It's from Saskanar, and a bit fruity I'm told.."
Snowcora sheds her cloak so that she is sitting on it, leaving the human completely naked and all her marks upon display in this sacred place. "I do generally," she says, "What inspired this? Has something been bothering you?"
Cyprian uncorks the bottle (with his teeth), and takes a moment to figure out what to do with the cork, so he puts it back into the basket. As he pours the wine, he says, "I needed to prove to myself that I am not just my profession. That.. I can do what I want to do without having to have some excuse beyond wanting to do it."
"Ooooh, so you want me?" Snowcora teases, leans, and flutters her eyelids at him (she doesn't really have eyelashes, or well, any other body hair for that matter). "I'm a dangerous woman with dangerous friends, you know."
"Ah, but they are your friends, aren't they?" Cyprian asks, offering a glass. "Not just coworkers? Am I one of your dangerous friends then?"
Snowcora accepts the glass. She swirls it, sniffs it, then takes a sip and feels it lightly burn as it travels down her throat. "Yes, I suppose they are my friends; even the Barsunala. He is complex and guarded," she says. She reaches over and taps Cyprian's nose, adding, "But you are my lover. Few dare to risk that, you know, bed a woman blessed by both Inala and Gorphat." She winks.
"And all of the others too, I see," Cyprian notes. He dips his finger into his own glass of wine, then uses it to finger-paint Snowcora's lips. "I do not think the Barsunala likes me.. or Mages in general. I am surprised he puts up with the Yodh, even."
"Actually, he does like you. Quite a bit from what I have gleaned," Snowcora notes, sighs, then licks her lips. "He is just ... guarded. To understand him you must understand his existence. Almost all of it was spent fighting for survival and being hunted," she notes, swirling her glass again. "Even your Guild once hunted and tried to kill him, for doing nothing more that comforting Sunala when she was in pain. He knew nothing of what he was, just that someone who had been nothing but kind to him was hurting and he was drawn to help her. And for that the Guild tried to put an arrow between his eyes. He has a hard time trusting any group of authority. Individuals are different, but it's the group as a whole that makes him uncomfortable."
"Well, groups do tend to cause the most trouble," Cyprian agrees. "And it never helps if the group is large and diverse, and you happen to be part of it after it hurts someone. And Mages.. as a group.. are very defensive. The last big war decimated us. We weren't used as soldiers, but as weapons. So even when we screw up.. we pull together to protect ourselves." He takes a long sip of his wine.
"Did you know the Sabbaoth wanted to use the Barsunala's body as his own to become truly immortal?" Snowcora asks, "He's seen as a tool, a monster, many things, but rarely a person. I imagine you can relate to that. But ... he is trying to overcome his own mistrusts. That he visited the Guild in Babel speaks volumes of that." It's her turn to take a sip.
"And how did you come into all of this?" Cyprian asks. "These aren't exactly human stomping grounds, and you are I believe an albino under all of that ink. You serve the Sisters.. so I wonder if they are responsible for your survival in some way?"
"My life is nothing but challenges. Who better to represent them?" Snowcora points out. "Sickly, yet strong to honor Gorphat. Beautiful and sensual to represent Inala. Patient for Sunala, and so on," the human explains with a smile. "And once they chose me, I could hardly deny them as they etched each and every mark upon me, binding me to them for eternity. They have tested me, and in those tests I have found more about myself than you could imagine."
"Tests?" Cyprian asks. "Did you have to.. earn these marks?" He dabs some wine around her eyes, following Blakat's daggers.
"Of course," Snowcora claims. "Each one I have endured a test, and then given a gift by the sister. Some are more obvious than others." She gestures to the gem above her vulva and the flower tattoo. "I was proven worthy to have my altar be that of Inala's and bear her blessings of fertility, for example. She made sure that it would be known to all that saw me."
"So.. do you have children then?" Cyprian asks, and starts painting Snowcora's vulva with wine.
Snowcora inhales at the touch, that part of her tending to be very sensitive. "Not yet. But some day I want them and I am sure Inala will bless me with them when the time is right," the human claims.
"But, until then I carry some of the joys of being with child permanently," the human adds, then pats her chest. "I am milkable," she says, sounding amused about that.
And so Cyprian paints Snowcora's nipples next. "What should I call you when you are not being the Shrine Maiden?" he asks.
Snowcora arches her back. "That tingles," she complains. "And you may call me Snowcora if you wish."
"You seem very warm for a woman made of snow," the Eeee claims, and spills some more wine on Snowcora.. which of course he has to lick off. He must have forgotten to bring napkins.
"It is because I always feel cold. I cannot wear clothing," the human squeals, her toes curling a bit when she is licked.
After sampling Snowcora's milk, Cyprian says, "That just won't do. Lie back, and I will keep you warm."
"You better make sure I'm milked dry," the human warns. There's only some joke to that, once it starts unless drained it can get a little uncomfortable over time. Or as Nicora, it's uncomfortable all the time because she over produces and it's thick and more like slug excretion. So, the human lays back on Inala's altar, stretches out, and tries to appear inviting to the Eeee. She shivers with anticipation of his touch, and the feelings that will flow from her blessings. Well, specifically Inala's.
Cyprian sheds his own clothes, and cups his wings over the both of them to trap their body heat. He makes sure to clean off ever drop of wine (while adding a few more), and the chastity-chains are no barrier to an Eeee's long tongue.
That sort of intimate kiss causes the human to gasp out, arch her back, and practically see stars. It makes her womb, gate, and jewel all feel incredibly warm. "Wow, I forgot how this could feel..." the human thinks in bliss.
The Mage focuses on bringing Snowcora to pleasure, only switching to suckling when it seems she needs a rest.
And pleasure Snowcora finds, in spades. Her insides are practically glowing with warmth and bliss by the time the Mage is just suckling on her. The human gets a little pushy here, making him move and shift until part of the mage is near her lips so she can return he favor. And this she does; lovingly. She is in rare form tonight with her technique of lip, mouth, and tongue; perhaps taking divine inspiration from Inala herself as she tries to bring him to the same pleasure he just brought her.
A human tongue may not be as versatile as an Eeee's, but it's certainly stronger. Cyprian is forced to stop what he's doing in order to deal with the sensation. "I assumed from your chains that.." he tries to say, only to finish with a gurgling sound as he's milked.
And milk Snowcora does. She treats the Eeee's gift as if it were the most precious thing in the world and savors it from flavor to feel when it comes. "Inala," the human thinks, "Bless this one tonight to remain firm through a few matings. Just for the night. I ... need this." And as she silently prays that, she is undoing the lock on her chains, then pulling the chains free of her permanent rings.
Once Cyprian recovers, he knows an invitation when it's offered. He's soon warming Snowcora with more direct body heat and motion, and kissing her neck and throat.. and ears. Human ears aren't as sensitive to touch as Eeee ones, but it still tingles.
Snowcora wraps her legs about the Eeee, ensuring the large orb above her vulva rubs against the Eeee as he moves against her. No words are said, she just ... enjoys it. Really enjoys it. It feels so good to make love without the fetters that are upon Nicora. For that form, this is tantamount to pain. But as Snowcora, this is incredible, utter bliss. The kind that can get anyone to pledge themselves utterly to Inala. She's kissing the Eeee in return, including his ears; and those she even playfully nips and tugs on now and then.
The basket and wine glasses do not survive, but the bottle proves more resilient and rolls across the temple floor leaving a trail of its fruity blood. Cyprian manages to maintain some focus in his efforts for the first two rounds, but eventually ends up going Lapi-style, at great risk to his lower back. It also means Snowcora gets bent a bit as well to provide proper cushioning.
Snowcora doesn't mind; she likes most all positions and something about being bent over is a thrill to her. She even, at one point, shows him that even the other entrance can be fun for a completely different feel! The ancient altar is awash in the gasps and moans of those in pure carnal bliss ... and Snowcora is just encouraging all of it in any way she can.
Even with prayers, Cyprian is still mortal. He succumbs to the need to.. cuddle, which just turns into a massage for Snowcora. "You didn't need to use your powers on me," he notes.
"I know, but I needed you," Snowcora admits quietly, embarrassed. "I wanted you badly. I had to have you."
"And yet, you could have made me your puppet if you wanted to," Cyprian says, and kisses Snowcora. "I was open. But.. you got an honest response instead. I hope that was adequate?"
"More than," Snowcora admits. "I didn't want a puppet. I just wanted you, and for you to last. That is all. I know me needs are ... intense and demanding."
Cyprian climbs atop Snowcora and just holds her, keeping her warm with his body. "Ah, I may have sprained something to be honest, but it was worth it. You should never feel lonely."
Snowcora hugs up against Cyprian. "And you don't fear the risks of one such as I?" she asks. "You may draw the Kindy One's gaze."
"I've already done that," Cyprian notes. He wiggles a bit, and still seems willing.. enough to slide into Snowcora. "But you are the only Kindly One whose gaze matters right now."
And Snowcora willingly parts and allows the Eeee entrance; then sighs at the lovely feeling of being filled again. "If only you could stay forever," she laments. "I do not often get the chance to make love. Sex, yes, but not love. They are different."
"Well, all I can do at the moment is fill you, I'm afraid," Cyprian chuckles. "Do you want to see me again then? After I rest a day, of course.."
"Of course I do," Snowcora says, then kisses the Eeee's nose. "But duties always come first, of course. If you cannot come, I understand."
"Well, I've still got my tongue," the Eeee says with a wink. He does have a sense of humor. "But I should be at the Guild when the Barsunala returns in another day, if things proceed smoothly."
"He will be there. I know things ended uncomfortably from what he said, but it will return," Snowcora admits. "Things have to change, and that includes himself."
"Everything is changing," Cyprian agrees. "And working together is the biggest change for Babel."
"As is this kind of together," Snowcora teases and rolls her hips just so. Seems he isn't the only one with a sense of humor.
"Now.. be kind.." Cyprian says. "I'm just a man. You wouldn't want me suckling on you again now would you?" he asks and waggles his eyebrows.
Snowcora offers her left breast and just smiles.
With a sigh of mock suffering, Cyprian takes the bait, and manages another round of hip-hammering as accompaniment, even if he's got nothing left but tears at this point.
And Snowcora enjoys it immensely, but she does eventually have him stop. "I do suppose we should part ways," she admits as she eases the Eeee off of her. She'll feel all warm and nice inside for a while anyway, but she doesn't admit to that. "I don't want to break you."
"It is a shame we cannot actually sleep together," Cyprian notes, as he tries to stand back up. "I cannot be gone overnight without drawing questions.. and it might reflect poorly on you to be staying with a Mage."
"I doubt it would reflect poorly on me," Snowcora states as she gathers her chains, cloak, and puts both back on. "But we both have duties to see to, and I do ultimately serve the Kindly Ones," she claims. "I must be prepared for them at all times."
"Healing the sick?" Cyprian asks as he struggles with his pants, wincing a bit.
"That is one thing, yes. Which means I must become sick. That is Gorphat's way, after all," Snowcora admits. "I have learned to find pleasures in such things, though. It makes them easier."
"I imagine they'd want to keep you happy," Cyprian notes, and uses the crushed remains of the woven basket to sweep away the broken wine glasses.
"Oh, they expect me to keep them happy. I am ... their pet," Snowcora claims, but smiles anyway. "We have a complex relationship."
"I wonder what that makes me to them, then?" Cyprian asks rhetorically. Once he's certain there aren't any bits of glass on the ground (and the bottle is safely out of the way) he offers his hand to help Snowcora off of the altar.
Snowcora accepts the hand and slips daintily off the altar and back to her feet. She goes back up on her tiptoes again and kisses his cheek. "Until next time, then?" she offers.
"Of course," Cyprian says, and kisses back on the lips. "What should I bring next time?"
"Surprise me," Snowcora requests with a playful smile. She winks, then the human slips away and back into the shadows.
After a few warm-up flaps, Cyprian is able to fly off into the night.
Nicora is roused by the clanking of buckets. And she'd been having such a relaxing sleep, still warmed by the afterglow of Snowcora and Cyprian.
"Mmmm," Nicora murmurs, smiling. Even the shift back wasn't as horrible as it usually is; the weighty and sagging rows of teats, the swollen and heavy vulva; all of that seems to fade into the background to the feeling of having has a true lovemaking session. She sits up slowly and yawns widely, stretching upward. This naturally makes her saggy teats sway back and forth; the epitome of an ugly Eeee, Nicora.
"G'morning, High Priestess," Otto says as he lays out the buckets, and gives Nicora's breasts a professional groping. But.. no 'milk' oozes forth this time. Instead, Nicora's head begins to itch under her scar-cap (which tend to itch often anyway) and her lower abdomen clenches in a cramp.
"Good morning, Otto,' Nicora says and smiles to the rat. She's puzzled for a moment and reaches down to squeeze her own teat, unsure as to why she isn't producing. She always produces; that's her nature now. The cramping also comes as a surprise; she grunts, bending over slightly and clutching her gut for a moment. As for the itch, well, that often comes and goes, so her free hand comes up to idly scratch at the thick scars in the shape of the wound. "What's wrong with my gut and teats today?" she wonders. It's also just plain odd that she's worried she isn't milking. Well, sliming.
"Uh.." Otto says in confusion, and tries sucking to get the milk going again. Nicora's breasts are more sensitive than usual (and having 8 of them doesn't help) and her usual puffiness and sliminess feel.. slightly more puffy and slimy than she's used to. It finally occurs to her that she's menstruating. Something that she'd forgot about, since her womb was usually too busy for it until her latest break from pregnancy.
"Gah, Dagh take it," Nicora growls as she clutches her gut as the cramping intensifies. She actually had forgotten about what it was like to have a period; she's normally been coursing with pregnancy hormones. But now ... oh, she remembers, and it hurts. A lot. It's also oozy as she finds out now that she's sitting up and thick bloody slime trickles from between her more distended and swollen than usual genitalia. Ah, calling it Gorphat's Wound is so appropriate right now; it sure looks like it is festering.
"Hmm," Otto says, somewhat oblivious. His job is to get milk, and squeezing and sucking aren't working. "You hurt?" he asks, and tries to get Nicora to lay back down.
"My period," Nicora grumbles as she lies back, her hands still holding her lower belly in hopes to relieve the cramping. "Until this passes I will probably be ... dry, Otto," she admits.
Nicora burbles from down below as another goopy wave of bloody slime pushes out in a splorch. The Yodhgorphat .. grunts.
Otto.. takes his pants off. "Maybe you just need pumping?" he suggests. Given his previous life, and the other sorts of things he's dealt with in service to Gorphat, the big rat doesn't seem phased by the effluvia. It may be making him slightly excited.
Nicora winces. "Fine, fine, you can try," the High Priestess growls. Sex does help with the pain, usually.
There is an issue.. namely Otto's girth. It doesn't leave room for anything to flow, so it feels like he's just pushing it all back in. He really puts his back into it too, as if he was literally trying to pump a well. It makes for some rather nasty noises, and since Nicora is on her back, things tend to bounce around awkwardly on her chest.
And it isn't helping with her pain; it just makes her gut distend and gurgle ominously (aside from the occasional splortchy release when he draws back enough). Her teats also flop about, making her look like some sort of beached grub, and her scowl doesn't help make her look any better! She hopes it feels good to him, because it sure doesn't to her. She just feels ... bloated and cramping.
Whatever Otto is feeling.. he still pauses to check if he's being effective, which means lots of teat wrangling. When he finally does get a drop out, he seems overjoyed.. and proceeds to try harder. In the process, Nicora is gradually being pushed off her own bed, and ends with her head banging into the headboard.. with hurts. It feels like her scalp is splitting.
"Ow, ow, ow," Nicora complains. She reaches up to protect the top of her head! It's tender with the scarring as it is! She uses her other hand to try and brace herself and stop her head from hitting! The flopping about on her chest becomes a secondary worry.
Nicora can feel blood... or some sort of fluid.. when she touches her scalp, and Otto actually stops when she starts complaining. "Oops?" he apologizes uncertainly.
"Yes, oops," Nicora says with her hand over the seemingly oozing spot. "Please grab me some of my bandages."
While Otto unplugs and goes to the bandage bin, Nicora can feel something wiggle under her fingers. Something that is a lot softer than scar tissue should be.
"What the...?" Nicora says as she starts feeling around on her scalp at that area, then draws her hand back to see if it is actually blood. She wondoer if she now has some sort of parasites.
The stuff on her fingers is.. not blood, but something clear and thick, like pus without the infection. Otto is holding out a bandage, and looking at Nicora's head.
Nicora takes the bandage and gets up. Though cramping, she does make her way to the one mirror in her room so that she can get better look at her head. She now suspects she has some sort of subcutaneous worm infection. She's trying to not freak out, as well, Yodhgorphat would be expected to deal with such things.
At first, it just looks like there's a wet crack in her head. It runs from the front of the scarring to the back, and the flesh looks pushed up a bit. And there's motion, but nothing emerging.. yet.
Nicora's eyes narrow. She reaches up and pushes at the wet crack in the scar. "Please leave me," she tells Otto. Probably to spare him from freaking out. Or see her freak out.
Otto takes a moment to collect his pants (but given the mess, he doesn't put them on) and the buckets and leaves as bidden. Pushing at the crack, meanwhile, causes it to widen and ooze more.. and something vaguely wormlike wiggles within. Several somethings, possibly.
"Oh Goddess, I do have worms," Nicora winces as she watches the crack widen (which hurts!). Yodhgorphat are used to ... gross things. So, she braces herself, then uses two fingers to spread the crack wider so that she can reach in and pull the worm or worms, out.
It takes a bit to get hold of one of the worms - but they aren't particularly slimy at least. Tugging on it, however, isn't effective. Because a few inches come out, and then Nicora realizes it's actually attached to her.. because she can feel herself squeezing and tugging on it.
"What the ...?" Nicora says, one eye widening more than the other. They're attached to her, but they're moving on their own. She twitches and tries, well, to tuck it back into the crack. "Mother...?" she calls out softly to the room.
Once it's out, it doesn't seem to want to go back in. In fact.. all of the others pop out, giving Nicora a wiggly frill atop her head. It almost looks like a smaller version of Scourge's tentacle-frill.
Nicora goes up on her toes and her face skews up. "Oh Goddess," she whimpers as the top of her head feels like it's moving around. "This can't be happening," she says as she looks in the mirror again to ... count them as well as see if she can pull them out anyway!
With a bit of tugging and sorting.. it looks like there are only six of the wigglers. And they're changing color, going from a pale translucent white (with green veining) to a rougher brown texture. They're starting to look like the scar tissue around them.
"This can't be happening," Nicora says as she is turning her head this way and that. She has a wiggling ridge. A ridge down the center of her head. It's worse than worms; they're attached and doen't seem to want to let go. She has some sort of parasitic infection of her scaring on her scalp.
The wiggling stops and the 'tendrils' all stand straight up. Their tips glow green for a moment.. and then they lay back down flat, seeming to merge with the scars.. unless you looked closer. Even the crack is settling back down against the new flesh.
Nicora blinks, eyes wide! She reaches up and feels around the crack. "Is it over? Are they gone?" she whispers to herself.
The thought seems to trigger the tendrils to rise up again, only to fall back down once more.
And Nicora's gut cramps hard! She grunts, gripping it and wobbling over to a chair to sit down. "What is happening to me?" she asks the room. Shakily, she feels over her scalp again, worried.
"You are blossoming," Gorphat offers from the foot of the now-gooey bed. "Your true beauty is starting to come out.. and also you have cramps."
Nicora glares at Gorphat. "What do you mean, blossoming?" she demands. Cramps, pain, and on the edge of freaking out means she's less polite to Gorphat.
"Like a flower," Gorphat explains. "We used to have flowers here. They weren't pretty, but they were useful. Your petals are just starting to open. You'll like them, in time."
Nicora's eyes narrow even more. "Just starting to open? What exactly is going to happen? Are they going to get bigger? More of them?" she inquires. The Eeee then grunts in pain and there's a nasty sort of splortching sound as a really bad cramp just expels a bunch of nasty-looking, and smelling, slime from between her legs.
"And you really shouldn't be wasting all of that," Gorphat notes. "You sent Otto away, but should have kept the buckets. You're blessed by Me, Nicora - everything that comes from you has special properties."
"What, this?" Nicora asks as she scoops up a handful of the goo. The Eeee then actually licks it. "Your blessings remind me quite often you placed them upon me," she has to admit.
And Nicora then locates the bedpan kept in the room for other purposes. Fortunately clean at the moment, she lifts up a bit, then slips it under herself to catch her ... drainage.
"Well, I didn't give you this curse," Gorphat says, with a grin. "I just made it useful. Collect and it give it to.. Sil, is it? Tell her to bake it into bread."
"You made it agony," Nicora says as she glares at Gorphat again. "Inala's natural process ... made agony." She might say more, but another hard cramp hits, turning her into a bit of a rude noise maker as her body expels another large amount of the goo. How does her body produce so much?!
"I improve on Her blessings," Gorphat agrees. "The bread will make for a wonderful antiseptic that can also speed the healing of wounds. Just don't let anyone eat it."
"I'm honored you choose to bless me so much," Nicora claims, "But ... nnngh!" There's another splortch. "Is this why I have at least quit ... lactating?" she asks.
"Temporarily," Gorphat promises, and pats Nicora on the knee while smiling. "The special qualities of the milk had to go into the menstrual blood and tissues. It won't affect the growth of your new tendrils though, if that was a concern."
Nicora looks up. "How big will they get?" the Eeee inquires nervously. "And I miss being pregnant; it holds off this ... cramping," she admits. "Will you permit me to bear again after this?"
"If you are nice to me," Gorphat offers. "They will get as long as they need to. Inala has lush, flowing hair.. yours will be far better."
"What would you consider being nice?" Nicora asks as she strokes Gorphat's leg. When the next cramp hits, her ears twitch and the sound comes, but she at least doesn't look like she wants to kill Gorphat.
"And .... what are the tendrils made of?" Nicora also has to ask; worried they are attached worms.
"They're made of you of course," Gorphat purrs. "Unlike my dear Sister, nothing that I do is superficial. You're used to having a tail, after all.. and sometimes you can control it. I expect you to do better with the tendrils. And being nice would be.. not complaining or questioning about every blessing I give you for a start."
Nicora's eyes go wide. "I just want to know what is happening to me," she admits.
"Where is the challenge in that?" Gorphat asks. "Nobody knows what is happening to them when they are ill, or hurt, or just suffering from some unknown pain. Knowing.. robs them of choice. To choose to fight through it, to choose to survive. To overcome. Whether it is something easily dealt with or one that changes their lives.. it is the effort and choices that matter."
"If you knew, would it make it easier to accept it, or harder?" Gorphat asks. "You can't answer that without knowing in the first place though, can you?"
Nicora shakes her head. "No, I can't. So, I shouldn't know and trust in you know what is best for me," the Yodhgorphat says firmly. She even nods at this. Though her gut is in agony, she leans in and ups her hand behind Gorphat's head. The Yodhgorphat then kisses the Goddess on her lips, with tongue. When the kiss ends, she adds, "Please forgive your foolish Daughter. She only wishes you to be proud of her."
"One of my challenges is acceptance of fate," Gorphat notes after the kiss. "Of all the Kindly Ones, I may be the only who leads people to wisdom.. eventually. But I don't want you to accept a fate that is handed to you. I want you to seize it and mold it into something that makes you stronger. Do you understand, daughter?"
Nicora is running her hands along Gorphat while nuzzling at her neck; she's caressing the Goddess in abject worship. "You want me to embrace whatever I become in Your Honor," she says, "And make it my own, part of me, to be a better Daughter for you."
"More than that," Gorphat 'purrs' a bit liquidly. "I want you to transcend ugliness. I want you to create a new form of beauty. My beauty."
"I could never hope to be as beautiful as You, though," Nicora replies, tone strained as yes, she's cramping again while feeling up the Goddess. She then kisses along Gorphat's neck and chin.
Gorphat is squishy, generally, but never really soft. Her breasts hide hard lumps in them, like deep scars. Areas of skin are flaky or scabbed over. It's can't be said that the goddess doesn't embrace the same afflictions she doles out. "You are being very flattering today," Gorphat notes to Nicora. "I like that."
And with each clenching of her abdomen, it feels like Nicora is pumping up the grows on her head.
Nicora's head ducks down and she nurses on one of those breasts without hesitation. Perhaps she's also trying to ignore how her head feels; or perhaps she's just lusting after her abuser? One of her hands even drops down to passage and caress the Goddess' Wound.
The 'milk' from Gorphat.. actually does ease some the pain of the contractions, like a muscle relaxant. What her hands feel is far worse though, as if the goddess was gummed up with mucous.
And yet, that does not dissuade Nicora. When her jaws draw from that breast, she dips it lower. Without hesitation, the Yodhgorphat buries her muzzle and tongue into the Goddess' Wound; kissing her intimately. Even though her gut is roiling, in knots, and regularly makes horrible sounds when more expels from her own Wound, she's focusing as much as she can on Gorphat, gummed up or not. The Yodhgorphat seems intent on both pleasuring her and cleaning her ... with her tongue.
It is.. well, foul, at the very least. It's like cleaning out a puss-filled wound.. that is several inches deep. It's nearly impossible to restrain her gag reflex.. but at least she doesn't have anything to vomit up. It isn't certain just how Gorphat would respond to being puked on. But.. as before, it lessens her own pains below, and causes odder sensations above where her scalp feels like it is crawling.
And Nicora keeps at it, even though ripples go through her now and then as she has to fight gagging. So, the process is slow. She works for a bit, has to settle, then work a bit more. The worst is when she has to swallow what she manages to extract from the Goddess. Truth be told, it is a great distraction from the sensations on her head. She only notices it when she is in her 'periods of recovery'. The Yodhgorphat has steadied herself with her hands on Gorphat's hips, her eyes are closed, and she just ... cleans. Maybe she's trying to convince herself this is important to do, to show trust in Gorphat, as well as willingness to tend to any need she may have.
And once most of the blockage is cleared.. other stuff gushes out. If any goddess would menstruate.. it would be Gorphat. It isn't bloody though.. and seems to have crunchy bits in it, like crushed insects.
Nicora's fingers and toes splay apart, as do her ears! Her entire body quivers like mad ... and through an incredible effort of will, the Yodhgorphat keeps her mouth there. And worse, her throat is actually rippling as the High Priestess actually swallows what gushes free, crunchy bits and all. This is absolute dedication to Gorphat to be sure, and the Yodh trying to prove it.
And in reward, Gorphat reaches down and runs her fingers through Nicora's new tendrils.. which really do feel like they're getting longer. Certainly as long as one of Gorphat's fingers at least. However, her stomach is beginning to rebel - not from the nature of what she's swallowing so much as that it contains solids.
Nicora keeps up as long as she can, then sits upright and gasps. The Yodh looks greener than usual, truth be told and her face is coated in sticky mucus and other yuck. "I want to do this regularly, Mother Gorphat," the High Priestess manages out weakly, "It is incredibly difficult to ... tend to you in this way, but I would become stronger from it." She's shaking now too, and reaches up one of her hands to feel her head now that the distractions are gone.
It's almost like running her fingers through hair.. if it was hair that was thick as a finger, and there were only six of them in a line. The tendrils are longer, and more sensitive too by now.
Nicora actually tries to move one. With only six, they could get pretty thick and long without overtaking her head.
Gorphat sits and slaps Nicora on the back. "A very good effort, daughter," she praises. "But.. don't forget the buckets. You don't want to waste My gifts as well."
Nicora rocks forward and clenches her gut, feeling, well, just awful. Not just the cramping, but ill from what she swallowed. It feels thick and gooey in her gut; heavy. And of course her gut cramps and she expels a blob of bloody slime. "That pleased you?" the Yodhgorphat asks, looking hopeful.
"Of course," Gorphat says, tilting Nicora's chin upwards. "Now.. summon the rat, and use the buckets."
"Otto!" Nicora calls out, voice a bit raspy. "Quickly bring me some buckets, then leave!"
Otto returns, having cleaned up a bit, and brings the buckets. He doesn't seem to notice Gorphat at all. "Do you need.. any'ting else?" he asks nervously. He doesn't mention the new hairstyle.
"No, just the buckets, please," Nicora requests as she struggles to keep everything down. It really wants to come back up at the moment. She waves towards the door, adding, "Please leave."
The Skreek scurries out quickly. "Such loyalty," Gorphat says with approval.
Nicora quickly grabs a bucket and hunkers over it. A roll starts from her butt and seems to go up through her ears as the first convulsion comes. It's no better coming out as it was going in. It's thick, slimy, and chunky ... and the Eeee makes some pretty horrific retching sounds as her gut expels what she swallowed.
Gorphat helpfully rubs Nicora's back. "Keep every drop.." she coos.
Once the glop is in the bucket.. it changes, becoming more like the green, slimy milk that Nicora normally produces.
Nicora heaves a few more times, then looks up. She offers it weakly, but it is honest, "Is there more for me to collect?" She takes a few deep breaths between her own cramping pains.
"Not yet.. you can only handle so much," Gorphat says, rubbing at Nicora's head and 'tousling' her tentacles. "You need to meet the challenge of Inala's Curse first."
"What I am going through now?" Nicora asks, still clutching her gut. "But, that sort of service for you will become more common? I want to show you how dedicated I am to You."
"You don't need to force it.. or prove it to me," Gorphat says. "Only because you want to please me.. for no other reason than that. Ride out your period.. it will be intense.. but only last another day."
"One day. That will feel like a lifetime," Nicora thinks as she grunts yet again. "Yes, Mother," the Yodhgorphat agrees ... right before she tips over and cradles her gut. "Mmmmmmgh," is all she can say. It's going to be a long day.