The door to the cell opens and Sheena looks up to see a stern procession of the false priestesses walk in. She recognizes the one in the front, a portly woman with a scar down on her cheek, and Sheena addresses her.
“As you can see, I wasn’t smited down in the middle of the night,” she says, still wishing she had her weapons. For that matter she wishes she had her belongings but when she’d been ambushed by these lunatics, they had taken all of her possessions.
“No one said that. Our Lady Ipona does not smite. She takes what she needs and we deliver it to her.”
“I’ve committed no crimes so let me be on my way. I have a post to return to,” she says. Her sword and bag all carry the crest of the army. It’s proof enough of her word.
“The infidel army,” the priestess says with a sniff. “You believe in nothing.”
“I believe in facts,” Sheena says, rolling her eyes. She leans back and looks at the lot of them. “Your faith is false and you can’t convince me to believe in your pretty little gods. I follow the orders of the Royal Three. They have no use for your superstitions and neither do I.”
The priestesses looked at one another, disdain dripping from them, and Sheena has experienced this before. The two kings and the queen have been slowly stamping out all of the minor false religions that had sprung up after the civil war in the North had been quelled. Sheena has been there to see the false gods exposed as nothing more than fraudsters and tricksters, conning the people there out of everything.
There’s a moment of silence and then the priestess sighs but it’s a fake sound. Sheena scowls at it.
“You will meet our Lady and know the truth. Your sacrifice will please her and in turn she will continue to protect us. We thank you for your sacrifice.”
Sheena barks out a laugh. They’d said the same thing last night, telling her she could avoid being sacrificed if she prayed to their goddess. It was just as hilarious last night as it is this morning.
She stops laughing as the other priestesses flood into the cell and despite her struggle, they bind her hands behind her back, wrapping a rope around her neck and leading her out. Sheena blinks as the bright light of day blinds her, quickly aware of how many people are out watching the processession.
“What the fuck is going on?” she demands.
“Quiet, infidel,” the priestess holding her rope says.
Sheena spits at the ground, unsurprised when the rope jerks her along. She looks around, keeping an eye out, searching for an escape. The people here are fond of jewelry because they are all covered in it, the metal glinting in the sunlight.
There’s a brick house as the end of the pathway, elegantly decorated with spirals of dull silver metal; it reeks of a con, stealing the precious metals from the local people. It’s the most lavishly decorated building in the whole town.
The supposed goddess has skin of silver and it sparkles and shines as if trying to convince everyone that she is the real thing. But the rest of her is adorned in ivory cloth and ebony jewelry. Her hair is blonde, done up with a medallion from the false religions that plague the land.
“She’s got a good gimmick,” Sheena says and she’s not surprised when the rope around her neck pulls hard enough to send her to her knees.
“Does she please you?” the priestess asks.
This supposed goddess Ipona comes up and runs her fingers through Sheena’s hair, careful of the tangle she finds. She tilts her head and then nods.
“Perhaps. Her looks suit,” Ipona says. “It’s her demeanor that I will test. You say she follows the three fools in the capitol?”
“The Royal Three,” Sheena corrects.
Ipona smiles and takes the rope around her neck in hand.
“Go forth. I am pleased,” she says and the priestess give their thanks as the townspeople cheer.
Ipona watches them begin to clear out then directs Sheena to stand up to follow her. She struggles to do so but manages on her own, hating that she’s on a leash but thankful to get away from the spectacle of the crowd.
“The upstairs is where I live,” Ipona explains, leading her into the house. “This floor is for business, for the dealings of the town and the altars for the people to pray. I am not always in town after all. Today it is empty only because today I will take you as sacrifice. The downstairs is where you will live up until I deem you fit for society.”
“What? You aren’t going to kill me and bathe in my blood to keep yourself eternal?” Sheena mocks.
“Nothing so barbaric,” Ipona says with a chuckle. She opens the door to the basement, a sweet smell wafting from it, the opposite of what Sheena was expecting.
The room is not what Sheen was expecting. There’s stone flooring, a comfortable looking bed, an equally comfortable looking couch, decorative rugs on some of the floor. Part of the room is sectioned off with a chamber pot and a tub for cleaning. The only strange part of the room is the ceiling, which is lavishly decorated with the same silver of Ipona’s skin, compared to the homliness of the rest of the room.
“A token of good faith,” Ipona says and her nails are sharp. Sheena braces herself to fight but Ipona only cuts the rope around her neck and the bindings around her hands.
“Thank you?” Sheena says.
“You won’t be thanking me soon, so I will enjoy the sound of that while I can,” Ipona says with a smile. “After all, you don’t believe in me. And sooner than you would like I will take you as sacrifice.”
“What does that mean, if you aren’t going to kill me?” Sheena asks, rubbing at her wrists.
“Once I walked this earth dressed in nothing and I was the most beautiful creature. I gleamed freely under the sunlight,” Ipona murmurs. “But those days are gone and now I live in this small corner of the world. But I am content here with a people to protect.
But that which I took freely before does not exist for me. I seek nourishment, companionship, but humans are a poor substitute. They only last for so long, they live such short lives. It suits me now to take a human at a time and mold them to my liking, to keep them as my own so they know me as I can know them.”
“Gods aren’t real. I’ve seen them. It’s always a human in the end,” Sheena says. “You aren’t any different.”
Ipona touches her with the barest tips of her fingers and Sheena jerks back, a little surprised to find them warm. She was expecting the ice cold bite of metal. Sheena reaches back to touch Ipona.
Ipona pulls her head back by her hair.
“You don’t touch me,” she says. “You thank me for touching you. But I don’t need the touch of a simple human to bring me to pleasure. It fills me to watch you under my hands.”
“Fuck you,” Sheena spits into her face. Ipona pulls her head back further, coldly furious, but Sheena fights still. Tears well up in her eyes as her hair is ripped out of her scalp but she has never liked having her hair pulled. “Like hell I’m going to enjoy this.”
“You that fights is the most appealing,” Ipona murmurs to her ear and rips her shirt, cupping her breasts.
“Get off,” Sheena yells and tries to push her away.
But Ipona’s grip is immovable, even stone will sway and give with enough pressure. She’s stronger than she looks and Sheena punches and scratches at her, nothing seeming to faze her.
“Behave,” Ipona says with a laugh, knowing full well that Sheena won’t obey.
“Fuck,” Sheena hisses as Ipona pushes her to the ground, the stone rashing up against her bare back. Ipona isn’t gentle and keeps her there despite her struggles. It’s cold against her back and Sheena feels herself beginning to panic, especially when Ipona lowers her head to lap at her exposed breasts.
“You’ll get the bed when you have earned it, my disobedient one,” Ipona says. “I am merciful but you’ll have to work hard to earn it since you doubt me so thoroughly.”
She returns to sucking on Sheena’s nipples, gently coaxing the other one to harden with her fingers.
“You aren’t real,” Sheena pants, still trying to push her away. It’s fruitless but she has to fight. She has to make it clear that she doesn’t want any of this.
Ipona bites down on her nipple and Sheena screams in pain. She tries to blink back her tears, especially as she sees Ipona lift her gaze and lick at her teeth that are covered in Sheena’s blood. There’s madness in her eyes and Sheena doesn’t believe that she’ll survive this.
“Stop saying that,” Ipona says. She digs her nails into Sheena’s sides and rakes them down, bringing them away bloody as well. Sheena hisses and thrashes around. “I am Ipona, goddess of the Silver Mines, protector of Orle. This is my town and people.”
Sheena tries to catch her breath. Her weapons are gone, she’s bleeding, and the woman holding her captive is stronger. Even if she escapes her, this town is blinded by her deceit. There is no escape for her.
“False god,” Sheena whispers.
The world turns black and plunges into silence. Sheena inhales sharply and tries to move her head around, to open her eyes wide, to see or hear anything. All she can do is feel Ipona’s hands on her waist; she cannot feel the stones that she knows are beneath them.
“The light,” Sheena gasps.
“The lights are still there. Your sight is not,” Ipona says, somehow without words but Sheena can still hear them. It’s the only thing she can hear. “Doubt me more. I dare you.”
She doesn’t hear or feel her trousers being ripped off. But Ipona must because the next of her touches comes to Sheena’s bare cunt. Sheena screams in protest but it doesn’t matter. Ipona thrusts one of her fingers inside of her and begins to churn it around, and Sheena inwardly begs that it’s not blood lubricating her way.
Then there’s something soft and it must be Ipona’s tongue, and Sheena begins to cry because it feels beautiful after all of the pain. But that only makes it worse and she can’t fight against it; every thrust and jerk she makes only augments her pleasure.
All she can do is focus on Ipona’s tongue and fingers as they penetrate her. She can almost see her slick running down her thighs.
But she can’t.
“Stop,” Sheena begs now. “I can’t. It’s too much.”
“Do you want to see again? Do you want to watch as I pleasure you?” Ipona asks even as she still devours Sheena’s cunt.
She doesn’t want that either. Sheena sobs out her climax, her cunt clenching around her attacker’s fingers, and Ipona chuckles as she moves away.
Sight and sensation come back slowly, and it’s a vile view, to see Ipona licking her silver fingers of Sheena’s blood and juices.
“It’s delicious,” Ipona says. “Taste.”
She shoves her fingers into Sheena’s mouth and she gags, but she doesn’t have the energy to protest.
“What do you think?” Ipona asks as she thrusts her fingers in and out of Sheena’s mouth, going too deep at times and making her choke. She doesn’t wait for an answer, simply continues tormenting her. Sheena is ready to throw up when Ipona removes her hand and pets her stomach, shrugging her shoulders in a silent laugh when Sheena flinches and tenses at her touch. “Ah, darling, your reactions are lovely. You hate me so much. That would satisfy me enough but you keep denying me; I have to break you till you believe in me.”
“Fuck you,” Sheena rasps.
Ipona studies her for a moment then roughly shoves three fingers into her cunt, moving down to worry at her clit with her other hand. Sheena cries out and thrusts her hips up, hating that she’s chasing her pleasure, but it would be worse to not. And she can’t just lay there and take it.
Then Ipona stops, keeping her hands on her, and Sheena tries to seek out more of that delightful friction. But she can’t move under Ipona.
“Beg for it. I told you, I can be merciful, but I want to hear you beg for it,” Ipona says. “Call me a goddess and I will give you pleasure.”
Sheena snarls and attempts to touch herself. Ipona pins her hands to the stones and bares her teeth at her. They gleam, a different shade of silver from her skin. She keeps Sheena’s hands to her sides and brings her face to her cunt again, biting at her lips. Sheena cries out but then Ipona starts to lick and suck at her once more, pleasuring her once more.
Ipona moves from her inner lips to her outer ones, giving each singular fold attention, utterly devoted to her task. Sheena has never been devoured so thoroughly and it was be the best experience of her life if it was anyone but this charlatan.
“Please,” Sheena begs.
“I told you what to say,” Ipona says.
“Please,” Sheena begs again. She’s soaked, her thighs sticky with her slick, and she wants so badly.
“Goddess,” Ipona reminds.
“No,” Sheena cries out.
“Say it,” Ipona snarls.
Sheena’s vision vanishes once more and she screams.
“Demon! Fiend! You fucking piece of shit creature! Whatever the hell you are, please, oh, please let me come!”
Her vision comes roaring back with her climax and Sheena thinks she howls the whole time.
But when she climaxes, Ipona doesn’t stop. She keeps on rubbing at her clit, abusing the poor thing till Sheena is sure it will bleed. Sheena tries to twist away, to move, to do something but it’s all useless under that iron grip.
“Please stop,” Sheena begs now, tears rolling down her face. She doesn’t care. All she wants is for this torture to stop. Her pleasure is rising again and she can’t handle it.
“You didn’t call me ‘goddess’ but you aren’t calling me a human any longer. Are we making progress, my dear sacrifice?” Ipona asks. She shakes her head. “You don’t deserve my mercy. What you get is whatever pleases me now.”
Sheena sobs as she comes again and again. Her body is torn between chasing her climax and trying to push away from it. But it’s just as Ipona says; if she wants Sheena to feel good, she touches her gently. And whens he wants to punish her, she thrusts her fingers as far as she can into her cut, she scratches at her breasts, and bites at her swollen clit.
All Sheena can do is respond with moans and cries. Her wishes are immaterial and she exists only for Ipona’s pleasure. But she can never anticipate what Ipona will desire.
Her tears are dry and her throat is sore, voice long gone once Ipona stops touching her. She blinks at her and Ipona smiles gently, tucking her sweaty hair behind her ear.
“Beautiful,” she whispers. Her skin gleams in the candlelight. It’s grotesque. “Ah, you’re worn out, poor thing. I’m sure you would hate me right now if you had the energy for it. Pity. I wanted to see that look in your eyes.”
Her fingers graze over Sheena’s body and she gasps, trembling in her exhaustion. She can’t stop herself from shaking harder at Ipona’s touch, terrified despite herself.
“Oh. You’re a wonderful sacrifice,” Ipona says. “So good. I didn’t know I wanted to break you so badly but you’re beautiful. The way you fight me is so good, Sheena.”
Ipona kisses her, long and hard, with a purpose Sheena cannot understand. She doesn’t respond back, letting Ipona take her mouth as she’s taken the rest of her.
Then Sheena screams, certain her blood is boiling and killing her from the inside out. She scratches at her arms and it’s futile but she has to try. But it doesn’t matter how much she rolls around or contorts herself; Ipona only watches and smiles.
She tries to beg for mercy but there is none of that here.
An eternity later, Sheena groans and blinks, her body still aching so much it’s difficult to do anything more than that. But her eyes focus and she moves her arm, screaming as she realizes that the same silver of Ipona’s skin is now burnt into her body. The color follows the path of her veins, and Sheena despairs, for what was once hatred in her very blood is now a mark of ownership for this creature.
“Now everyone will know you belong to me,” Ipona says in an amused tone right by her ear. Sheena struggles to turn her head and gasps when she finds Ipona curled up right beside her. Ipona curls a proprietary hand around her face and rubs her thumb along her cheek. “When I allow them to see you, of course. I’ve not yet had my fill of you.”
Sheena doesn’t suppress her sobs as Ipona pinches at her nipple again and begins her torture anew.