Chapter 42: The Goddess’s Perilous Offer

Note: This story was commissioned by Ultrasound 7 and has allowed me to share it with you. This may contain scenarios and acts that I normally wouldn’t write. There will be a strong sex slave/domination theme. I will keep this from violating any cannon established in the world and I developed the mythology that drives this story.

Kurtis – Drakin Castle, the Haunted Forest

Fear poured through my body as I faced Throwia. The Goddess of Strife and Suffering sauntered forward, her large breasts jiggling in the corset of black leather that lifted them into quivering mounds. Her bloody whip dragged on the ground, leaving a trail of gleaming crimson as she approached me.

I moved down the stairs, my heart thudding. My cock dripped with the demon Beliala’s pussy cream. What was Throwia doing here? Had she learned that we were trying to free Las? Was she here to hurt us? Stop us?

Gods couldn’t spend much time in this world. They could manifest, but only under specific conditions. Las and Pater were the best at it, but ... Throwia was here. Did it really matter how long she could stay if all she had to do was hit me with that whip?

Her heels clicked with her each step. Her eyes flicked me up and down with a dark hunger. I stopped at the base of the stairs, so aware that my sisters were behind me. My mother was in her full dragon form, and she did not feel strong enough for this task. Nephi, the rakshasas, and the werewolves were all lying in whimpering pain. The succubus and incubus cowered in the shadows.

“Brother,” Throwia purred. Her voice dripped with darkness. “How interesting to run into you here of all places? Are you here for the same reason that I am?”

I fought my swallow. My hands clenched. I wanted to cover myself. To run. Cower. But I couldn’t. She was the lion, and she would pounce if I bolted. This was worst than facing down Queen Athirmi.

“Which is?” I managed to ask.

She arched a dark eyebrow. “The elf Xerathalasia and the halfling Minx found a miracle here that let them breed,” Throwia purred. “Something that the madmen Vebrin cooked up here. A hermaphrodite and a dual-sex woman should not have children, and yet ... that is what happened.”

I nodded slowly. “I have an interest in breeding ... some hermaphrodites.”

Her eyes flicked to my dragon. “Not even High King Peter bred his dragon. But I can see why you would want that.”

I realized she didn’t know everything about me. That I had already bred my mother, the one hermaphrodite that I could breed.

“And you’re interested in breeding?” I asked, wanting to stall her. Maybe wait out how long she could be manifested here. Keep her talking.

“I am very interested in breeding,” she purred. “I want to have a daughter with my wife. I was hoping there would be something here, but...” She flicked her eyes past me. I just knew she was staring at the demon. “Everyone I failing to find it here.”

Beliala whimpered. Even broken to my will, she was terrified of Throwia. “Please, my Goddess, it’s not here. I’ve had the fairies search everywhere. There is nothing left. Whatever it is, Xerathalasia and Minx took it.”

“Quiet!” snapped Throwia, her face dark and frighting.

Beliala screamed in agony as if she were just struck. I threw a look to see her collapsing on the floor and writhing in agony. When I glanced back at Throwia, she had this smug smile on her lips. This wicked gleam in her eyes.

Throwia’s face darkens. “Quiet!”

As Beliala screamed, Throwia surveyed the room. “A dragon. Is that you, Azuliana? Not dead like I heard. Tsk, tsk.” The goddess wagged an admonishing finger at my dragon-mother. “And entwined around a Son of Lust. You should have better control over your desires. And who else ... Ah, two Daughters of Las, as ... And ... one is also a phoenix.” Her gaze shot to me. “Who are you, brother?”

“Kurtis,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. I stared at her, putting pride into my words.

“Kurtis...” She said that name slowly. Something in her posture shifted. A considering look flicked across her face as she studied me with those ancient, inhuman eyes. “So you came looking for the treasure, too, yes? No lies. I have no patience for those games.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“And you want to breed those you can’t. Like I want to breed my beloved Vedr?”

I didn’t know what to say. What was the correct answer. She was a black hole to me. I couldn’t feel her at all. There was no lust from her. No desire that I could read. To my powers, it was like she wasn’t even here. I couldn’t judge her mood let alone influence her.

So I went with the truth again. “I do. And?”

“And I can’t spend much time in this world.” Something like annoyance or maybe anger flashed across her face. “It causes ... issues. Things will start to break beneath my divine weight. There, I can’t search for what I need. I have to rely on lesser servants.”

Beliala screamed again.

“And since you have cost me one of my more reliable servants, I require a replacement to find another source. A more cunningly hidden one.”

“Which is?” I asked. This was the being I had to free my father from. I had no clue how to do it.

“A legend,” Throwia said, moving closer. Her whip whisked as she dragged it across the floor. More blood ran down it. “Whispered about in dark corners. Maybe a myth. Maybe not.”

“What is it?” I asked, my heart pounding suddenly. This ... eagerness shot through me.

“The Cradle of Life.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t heard of it.”

“Few have.” Disgust spread on her face. “The Cradle of Life is said to allow any individual to breed with another. Even with a thing. An object. It is Las’s potency in an artifact. A woman could create life with another woman. You could breed the dragon.”

My heart beat faster.

“Yes, yes, I can see your lust for it in your eyes.” She grimaced. “But our father, the God of Lust himself, hid it away. I have been ... trying to pry that information from him, but our dear father is a cruel man. He does not care much for his children. He’s spiteful. Vindictive. If you do not give him pleasure, you are worth nothing to him.”

“Maybe he has a good reason to hide it,” I said, my stomach lurching. My father sired me just to free himself from Throwia. Was that all I was to him? A tool. “To keep it out of the wrong hands or something. That sounds powerful. Dangerous in the wrong hands.”

Throwia laughed. “He doesn’t do anything for good. For morality. He acts only to satiate his desires. He denies me the location because he takes pleasure in watching me squirm. Do you know why, Kurtis? Why he torments me?”

Don’t you torment him? rippled through my mind. I held back that comment and asked, “Why?”

Rage burned in her eyes. “Because I won’t spread my thighs for our father! I have tried everything save demeaning myself to get him to talk, but he denies me a chance to make a goddess with my beloved Vedr. To give birth to a new goddess. The Goddess of Storms!”

“Why did he hide it from the world, though?” I asked. “Surely there’s more to his reasoning than just that he takes delight in thwarting you.” I would, I thought, if you chained me up and hurt me for years now.

She smiled, but there was no joy or warmth. It was like Pradu’s smile before I broke her. One that delighted in pain and cruelty. “You know why I think he hid it away?” She leaned closer. “Because it would let anyone be as fruitful as him. Able to breed anything, even the ground. The air. The water. New races would be born. New life created that had not existed. He is jealous to maintain his dominance of lust. No one else can do what he can!”

I swallowed.

“Las’s potency and virility surpasses even that of Pater, the God of Fatherhood, or Matar, the Goddess of Motherhood. They are constrained by the same biology as the rest of us. Seed must be planted in a womb to create new life. New gods, demigoddesses, and mortal races!

“But not Las! He merely has to ejaculate on the world, and wherever his seed lands, new life springs up. He doesn’t need anything but the stone you stand on. You think he would let anyone else have that power? He hid it away for thousands of years, jealously protecting it. He would rather howl for eternity than let it be found.

“He would rather deny me, his own daughter, progeny with my beloved Vedr to maintain his petty grip of lust. That is the sort of foul, disgusting, vindictive creature he is. He has no love for you or I, brother. Nor for those sisters of yours. Though he would bed them all and breed them just for the thrill of it. That is all the world is to him: ways to satiate his perverse lusts.”

“And the Cradle can do all that?” I asked. “Let you have a child with your wife? Me with those I crave to breed.

“The dragon is your mother, right?” asked Throwia. “Now that she is in a human form, I can see the maternal bond. She fears for you the way only a mother can. Las bred her. With the cradle, you could breed her, too.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” I said, my heart lurching. I didn’t want to help Throwia get this, either. Las had to have a good reason for denying her. He had to care. “The monsters born by our father have caused problems. Maybe that’s why he hid it away so no more ... mistakes will be created.”

She laughed. “You think he cares about the consequences of his actions. My fellow gods and I have had to work to keep him from masturbating and spraying his cum across the world. He would gladly spawn more monsters. Lust does not care about the consequences of what happens after the orgasm. It just craves that release. That burst of pleasure. That’s all Las cares about, too. No, no, he hid it away so none other could do the things he can.”

“Still,” I said. “It’s good that he hid it away not matter what his reasons are. I mean, we stand here, in Drakin Castle where the Biomancer Vebrin worked his foul deeds. He had to labor to create monsters. If he had this Cradle of Life ... And he’s not the only one. The Warlocks of Chevsa also make monsters. Maybe it should stay lost.”

“True,” said Throwia. “The world wouldn’t survive with two Gods of Lust spraying their jizz around. But I have no intention of abusing this power. Mortal piss, I have spent eons cleaning up after our father’s messes to want more of that. I have one use for it: to create a daughter with my beloved Vedr.”

I believed her. She wasn’t a lustful goddess. She was a cruel one.

“You do not know how much of a trial it was just to marry her. For eons, we have craved what the other gods have. Progeny. Not those foul things that I had to birth to marry my Vedr like that disgusting Beliala whimpering up there. I don’t want to birth demigods, I want a true goddess with Vedr.” “And you want me to find this artifact,” I said. “And what do I get out of it?”

She stared at me. “What do you want? My body?”

My cock lurched.

“Fine, fine, I will allow you to enjoy the gracious company of my body if you bring me the Cradle of Life. I will even allow you to use it for specific breedings.”

“Fine,” she said with such flippancy. It was too easy.

I swallowed, nervous. “How do I even know I can trust you?”

“Trust me?” Her smile held not a hint of sincerity. “What have I ever done to prove myself untrustworthy.”

“You have been torturing these fairies and werewolves,” I said. “Forcing them to work for you. Taking hostages to get them to cooperate. It’s not very ... inspiring that you can be trusted.”

“Do you want me to take your sisters as hostages?” she asked, her eyes cold and hard. “Instead of making this bargain with you, I could just take them until you found the Cradle. Is that how you want to do this, Kurtis? I think they would find my ... hospitality scintillating.”

“Of course not,” I growled. “I just want some way to know that you’ll uphold your end of the bargain. I want assurances that you won’t harm me and my loved ones.”

“Don’t wrong me like that fairy-hag did,” snarled Throwia. “You work with me, and I won’t have a need to use those methods on you.”

“So I get the Cradle, and you free our father and let me use the bowl after you?” I asked. “And let me ... enjoy your gracious company.”

“Mmm, yes,” she said, her eyes so hard to read. I wish I could feel her desires. Have an inkling of what she truly felt. “And as a sign of good faith, you can release those fairies and werewolves. I’m quite done with them. Keep them or free them or kill them, I don’t care. Just find me the Cradle, and I won’t interfere with you.”

“And once I’m done, I won’t hear from you again? Me and my family part ways with you?”

“I don’t care what you do after I have bred my wife.”

“Promise me as a goddess,” I insisted. “Your word on it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I promise.”

My mouth went dry with fear as I demanded, “No, I want you to say it.”

Her eyes hardened with something ... dangerous. Deadly. “I, Throwia, Goddess of Suffering, do swear on my godly powers to honor the terms of our agreement. Is that good enough, brother?”

I swallowed, my insides twisting into knots. “Fine. It’s more than agreeable. I will hunt for this Cradle of Life.” I hesitated. “Do you have any idea where I can find it?”

Throwia let out an annoyed sigh. “Our wonderful father made it so no god can find it.” She flicked her wrist and cracked her whip on the ground. Blood sprayed from the impact. “Maybe one of the oracles can tell you. They’re not full gods. They can see things that others hide.”

“Why haven’t you asked them?”

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled like a furious lioness. “I have tried, but they don’t like the gods. The Oracle of Sands was quite uncooperative. And her parents are very protective of her and her sisters so I can’t ... encourage them to cooperate. But you ... You are a demigod like them. Maybe they’ll help you.”

I was going to see one anyways. “Okay.”

“Now, do heed this warning, Kurtis. You are not the only pawns I have looking for it. Many mortals hunger for coin and ... other rewards. I have promised much to men and women as skilled and dangerous as you. They might not wish to lose out on glory.” She shook her head. “Greed can lead men to do such dastardly deeds.”

Kurtis nodded. “And that’s not your fault? You swore, Throwia.”

She smiled. “They are not my minions. Just those seeking a reward I’ve offered. I have no control over them. Or you. Unless...” She glanced at my sisters. “If you want to serve me in a more direct capacity, surrender your sisters to my loving care then all will know you are under my protection.”