The story will cover many fetishes over its course, the main themes being: Corruption, lesbian sex, transformation, monster-girls, torture, rape, harems, femdom, BDSM, mind control/hypnotism, among many others, whatever strikes me as being a good fit when I write.
This post contains: Femdom, slavery, oral
Chapter 1
Fate
Fate
The Goddess Athyra walked breezily into her chambers, hall upon hall of white marble decorated with silk and gold. The girl was dead and there would be no repercussions. Poor dear got caught up in a freak land slide. The Goddess smirked, praising her own cleverness. The Gods frequently sidestepped the non-intervention laws with little loopholes like natural disasters, but she would have to keep a low profile for now. It was fine, though, because in one fell swoop she had prevented the prophesy from ever coming to fruition.
She glided down the endless hallway to her Seeing room, casually tossing her wavy brown hair. Once the deed was done she came straight back to her own realm. Now all she wanted to do was look in the Mirror and see her continued future as the prosperous and powerful patron god of confidence.
The grand wooden doors opened themselves as she approached, opening up a wide room filled with a multitude of strange and obviously mystical objects and artifacts. She maneuvered effortlessly through the maze of tables, statues, shelves, and mounds of unidentifiable things until at last she stood before an ornate full body mirror. She shuddered to remember all the anxiety she had felt the last time she asked the mirror to reveal threats to her power and the figure of a buxom girl with blonde hair standing tall and erect in a suit of golden armor holding the Goddess' own severed head. That problem was taken care of, she reminded herself. She hated having to rely on this artifact to make any decisions. She was confident she could solve any problem herself, but she knew that she had to use every advantage she could get in order to fend off the encroachments of other Gods and mortal fools.
The reflection in the mirror began to cloud over. Athyra smirked to herself again and decided to ask the question again, just to watch as the fog remained unchanged.
“Mirror, show me anyone who threatens my rule.” she said, and waited. She did feel a small anxiety deep in her gut as she did so, but as the moments passed and nothing happened, she grew more and more confident. She visibly swelled with an arrogant pride and self-satisfaction that made her face appear at once more beautiful and more terrible. Quickly as it came, the expression deflated. The mirror began to shimmer, the fogs began to resolve themselves into a picture. First it was only a blur of green, then it resolved into the vague shapes of trees. Athyra's fists and jaw clenched as the picture became clear. It was a jungle, and stalking about in the bushes was a young girl with a bow and arrow. She was no older than 15, but her body was well developed. She was already rather buxom, and had barely a slip of fat on her. Her muscles were lean and hard, and even through a haze of rage Athyra had to admit that she was stunningly attractive-- one of the best qualities of a natural born leader.
“Show me her future,” she barked at the mirror.
The jungle scene turned to sand and fell into the void of the mirror. More quickly the fog resolved and showed the same girl, now about ten years older. She wore the same semi-opaque thin silk robe that Athyra herself wore at that very moment, and too much make-up. The goddess was floored. A mortal, taking the place of a God? Such a thing had not happened in over a billion years.
“How will she defeat me?” she asked. The image of the girl disappeared, and a phrase appeared in the fog of the mirror, 'she will not'. Athyra growled in frustration. She was hopelessly confused.
“Is this the work of Fate?” she asked, dreading the answer. The word appeared in the mirror, 'Yes.' Athyra cursed. Fate was the only thing that had power over the Gods. It was not easy to alter, not easy at all. If this were the work of fate she could kill all the mortals she wanted, but another usurper would always take their place. She paced away from the mirror, holding her chin, thinking as hard as she could. “How can I stop this?” she mumbled to herself. Her feet lead her through the maze of objects by themselves. Behind her the mirror shimmered again, but she did not see the phrase that appeared: 'Do nothing.' When the door closed on the artifact room, the mirror showed only the reflection of a nearby statue.
***
Athyra knew that only one god, Fame, the god of lust, had ever escaped the machinations of Fate. She secretly loathed Fame, finding his hedonistic excesses to be far too overbearing. She could always feel him using his powers to see underneath whatever clothes she wore, and had heard many times through the grapevine that he was very displeased at never having a chance to have his way with her. Apparently she was the only Goddess that could resist his entreaties for very long. Consequently, she felt sick to her stomach about having to ask for his help, and what he might demand in return. Faced with the choice of her survival against short-term shame or discomfort, she had to take whatever help she could get.
With a deep breath she summoned up a shimmering red doorway before her. Reluctantly she opened it and stepped through.
On the other side she appeared in a dimly lit corridor. Twenty feet away was an enormous golden double door with platinum handles. Two very beautiful, very naked women knelt under each handle. A silver chain attached one woman to each handle by simple leather collars. Between the two girls stood another woman, a buxom red-headed girl with blood red eyes, blood red lip stick, and a vicious gleam. She was clad head to toe in skin tight polished leather that looked like the skin of a black snake, the collar of her jumpsuit plunging all the way to her navel, exposing a wide V of well-tanned skin and an enormous cleavage. Her eyebrows were pierced with small silver rings, as well as her lower lip, and one through the middle part of her nose like a bull. Her eyes were lined with heavy shadow and heavier liner, her lashes unnaturally long and lush, making her blood red eyes seem even bigger. She held a cat-o-nine-tails, running her fingers through the leather strips, and eyed Athyra with a mixture of cruelty and naked desire. Athyra refrained from reading her surface thoughts, not wishing to see what this dominatrix might be imagining.
The inter-dimensional doors always disoriented her a bit, so she took a few moments to take in the scene fully. Of course she could have simply materialized next to Fame if she wished, but even Gods had their own codes of courtesy. Just like mortals, they knocked before entering. She walked confidently up to the dominatrix, who said nothing.
“I wish to have an audience with Fame,” Athyra said haughtily, “Tell him Athyra of the West is here and I refuse to leave.”
The dominatrix stared at Athyra's breasts and licked her lips with such obvious and unabashed lust that even Athyra felt a bit embarrassed. After that brief examination the dominatrix closed her eyes for only a few moments and then nodded.
“The master will see you now,” she said. With a sudden crack, the dominatrix whipped the backs of the kneeling girls with her nine-tails. The girls cried out, then quickly got on all fours and crawled, choking themselves as they pulled open the massive door with the chains around their necks. The leather-bound door-woman whipped them on their buttocks as they slowly hauled the door open, her orgasmic satisfaction in doing so apparent on her face. When the door was finally open, the dominatrix caught her eye, raised a hand, and beckoned to the Goddess with her fingers as she turned away on her spiked heels. Athyra walked a few paces behind her, trying hard not to notice the way her hips swayed side to side with each step farther than Athyra thought possible, trying not to think about how incredibly tight that leather must be to cling so completely, without a single crease, to her perfectly formed flesh.
The inside of Fame's realm looked much like a human mansion with marble walls and obsidian columns. Everywhere naked or nearly naked women and even a few men and the occasional demi-god went about their inscrutable business. Many of them lounged around, having casual sex. A few times they passed six or seven men all crowded around a single woman, the women being either clearly ecstatic or clearly being raped. There was at least one orgy. It was hard to tell.
Athyra knew that all of these mortals were here by choice, more or less. Their libidos lead them down dark paths that eventually ended with a ritual to make a pact with Fame himself. She knew that he welcomed these rituals, though most Gods were greatly annoyed by mortals summoning them. If the mortal pleased him, Fame granted them eternal youth, beauty, and vitality in exchange for sexual slavery in his own realm for all eternity. Thinking of the gang-rape, she wondered if it was clear to the mortals taking on the contract that Fame wasn't the only one who got dominion over their bodies. Athyra once again struggled to understand the minds of mortals (who would do this willingly?) and came up short.
At last they went through another, smaller double door, this one also operated by two naked and scuffed-up slaves. The room beyond was completely open, with no side doors. Huge obsidian pillars lined with gold held up a ceiling that was a giant skylight looking out into the depths of the stars. The room itself was inexplicably well lit by bright sunlight. Nearly the whole room was given over to a clear blue pool about fifteen feet deep with a stone walkway leading out to an island that was occupied by the biggest bed Athyra had ever seen. The sheets were a deep crimson color, and even now there were a few wet spots in the process of drying. In this room were even more naked or nearly naked women lounging on the edges of the water or swimming together. More than few sat on the edge with their legs spread wide, one or two girls in the water below them with their bobbing heads concealing their lusty business. Athyra suppressed another shudder.
Fame sat on the edge of the bed facing the door. He looked like a normal mortal human man, just three times the size. The dominatrix marched straight up to him, Athyra in tow, even though the God of Lust was preoccupied by two human women and one elf orally servicing his massive cock. The elf was on her knees between the two humans, completely naked. Fame's hand rested on the back of her head, bunching up handfuls of light blond hair. The two human women were in rather modest leather bikinis and served a testicle each, fitting as much of the football sized eggs in their mouths as they could. Even from the head on angle Athyra could see that the oversized shaft barely fit in the elf's mouth, and she imagined she could hear the poor girl's jaw creaking with the effort.
“Master,” the dominatrix moaned, “The Goddess has arrived.”
Athyra glanced at the dominatrix and saw that she was eying the elf with great envy. She quickly looked away when she began to grope her own breast and licked her lips. Her eyes fell on two brunettes on the edge of the pool, both naked and dripping wet, one on top of the other, kissing and rubbing their wet bodies together. She almost turned on heel and summoned a door back to her own realm, but she managed to keep her cool.
“Very good Dahlia,” Fame's deep voice snapped her out of her reverie. He seemed unaffected by the efforts of the three women buried in his crotch. With a sudden movement and a sharp cry, the elf girl was flung away from Fame and landed hard at the feet of Dahlia the dominatrix. “Have this one as a reward. See to it that she learns how to give head.”
Before Athyra could even react to what had happened, Dahlia was on the elf girl, her knee planted between the girl's shoulder blades, tying her hands behind her back before she could even think to begin struggling. The girl's protests were silenced before they even started. Dahlia had bound, gagged, and blindfolded the girl before Athyra even knew what was happening. She suddenly felt very uneasy in this place, despite her considerable powers. Dahlia dragged the girl off by her hair, and Fame's voice brought Athyra back to herself.
“My darling Athyra,” he said, “To what do I owe this immense...pleasure?”
Athyra looked back at him, slightly repulsed by the lecherous smile that formed on his face. The leather-bikinied women were already both sucking on the head of his cock, seeming to have not noticed what happened to the elf.
“Must you do that in front of me?” she asked, sounding a bit queasy despite her best efforts. Fame regarded her seriously, and then went on in a reasonable tone.
“My dear Athyra, I do not visit your realm and tell you how to decorate your walls, or how to attire yourself, or any other such things. Let's not be rude.”
She decided to ignore his point. “I've come to ask you about something.”
Fame smiled and leaned back on his hands, his eyes fixed on her. He waited.
“Is it true that you avoided a terrible Fate?” she asked. Fame laughed.
“One does not avoid Fate,” he said, “Fate is inexorable. I simply understand Fate better than most, I suppose.”
Athyra felt confused again, much to her displeasure. “But it's said that you learned of a Fate in which you lost your power and your realms, yet you still have them.”
Fame regarded her, a strange expression on his face, as if she was saying something so ignorant that he was puzzled by her ineptitude. After a moment it cleared and became an expression of sudden revelation.
“Ah! Yes, yes, now I remember what you mean, my sweet.” He smiled again. Athyra refused to rise to the bait. “Yes, that was about twenty centuries ago if I remember correctly. The mirror of Noisuled, which I believe you now posses, informed me that it was my Fate to lose my powers, as you said. But I found a way around it.”
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