A Gift of The Goddess Ch. 05 – Celebrities & Fan Fiction

The group reunited outside of the brothel with Eve, shocked that the infamous Succubus Queen Malcanthet had not only survived their iconic battle within Cyndia’s demon nest but was now Max’s warlock patron.

Malcanthet herself looked at Eve and Kristina both with demonic vision and saw the purple inky threads of Loviatar’s magic woven throughout their bodies and souls like a thorny bramble sustaining them with the darker hues of demonic curse magic hanging off the branches like juicy tempting fruit.

Such was the power of her newest acolyte, Loviatar had indeed given her a generous gift. One she intended to use to its fullest extent.

Malcanthet was obviously reluctant to entrust her safe passage through the city to the “Killers of Cyndia”.

Max, taking benefit of the many bodies of her previous victims laying discarded on the floor of her cell, stepped up and reanimated two bulky luckless thugs she’d drained to physically carry her like the Queen she still believed herself to be through the city.

He did similar for Corbin although the undead thug carrying Corbin was considerably less gentle with him. He was conveyed through the streets like a sack of moldy potatoes.

It was in this way the group traveled by foot through the evening shadows to the classier parts of the city. While cobblestones paved most streets in the Imperial Capital including the vast and sprawling City of Night, the gradual increase in frequency and upkeep of trees and bushes lining those streets marked ones arrival to the noble quarter where large houses and well-maintained properties belonging to wealthy families permitted to reside in the section of the city closest to the Imperial Palace and the seat of Imperial power.

Christian’s mother, the good wife Lady deBarrett, was still very much awake when they came trudging into her large and opulent home. The DeBerrett Matriarch had adapted with suspicious ease to the comings and goings of the adventurers-for-hire her crossdressing son had declared were “good friends in need of shelter and protection”.

Beyond insisting they maintain a LOW PROFILE or as low a user account as famed mercenaries with a connection to the Sisters of Battle and having rescued an Imperial Princess could be expected to have, she seemed fine with the disruption to her household staff composed entirely of young men dressed up in Victorian Era maid’s dresses. Christian’s idea apparently; though Max, remembering his own fascination with the idea of Maid Cafes back home, wholeheartedly approved.

The household staff attended to Olivia, Eve and Kristina, tending to their minor wounds and preparing a late-night snack before they retired to their bedrooms, not all the time on their own.

Max on the other hand started to attend to their new houseguest himself. He drew her a hot bath and washed and cleaned her wounds and bruises. Normally he avoided using the staff for mundane tasks such as this. He publicly attributed this to his time as a domestic worker before his magical abilities manifested and the comfort he still found in menial tasks.

The truth however was he’d invited a half starved and still instinctually deadly succubus into a home where she was likely to be surrounded by volatile human emotions many of which had sexual components which she’d be drawn to like a kid in a candy store.

He was quite literally the only thing standing between Malcanthet and a massacre scene not unlike the prison cell where she’d been kept.

At least until she’d fed and regained her strength and sense of discretion.

His only concession was to Lady deBarrett who appreciated his helping out the household staff, yet preferred he NOT task animated corpses to carry out the cleaning of toilets or other more mindlessly repetitive household jobs or as Max had referred to it, having his Disney Princess Moment.

This time however he accepted the inevitable offer of assistance, letting one young man in a maid’s outfit named Jordan aid him.

“You can relax my lady, I’ll be happy to help you conceal yourself,” Max whispered, handing a washcloth to Jordan who bathed Malcanthet’s injuries carefully, including her broken demon horns and severed tail stump before drying them with a towel and using it to gently rub and pamper her broad back and the scars where her mutilated wings had been removed.

“Your skills of illusion and concealment magic are indeed impressive.” Malcanthet hissed, grimacing as the houseboy treated her wounds, or more accurately what Max’s illusions allowed him to perceive as her wounds.

“You could reveal your actual demonic form and he’d swear you’re a sexy GILF,” Max snickered quietly.

“GILF?” Malcanthet asked bemused.

“Grandmother I’d like to fuc-” Max paused, “fold in my arms and hug,” he quickly amended but the ludicrously experienced succubus knew an evasion when she heard one.

Malcanthet was curious about this choice until she scented the rich aroma of lust coming from the crossdressed maid.

Malcanthet focused on Jordan and read his surface thoughts. She saw images of an elderly woman. Very intimate and incestuous thoughts of her and a friend and the several afternoons they’d spent sexually teasing and tormenting the young man. Taking benefit of his abnormally long tongue and growing fascination with female garments. Indeed it was from these afternoons Jordan’s fetish for being sexually dominated had been birthed. The memories of what they’d done to him, and had him do to them, filled the young man’s mind.

Max was taking the young man’s deeply buried incestuous thoughts and erotic fantasies involving powerful and commanding older females and was amplifying it and tailoring it to fit Malcanthet’s perceived form.

Jordan’s lust then filled the air like the actual aromatic steam from the bath and seeped into Malcanthet’s abused body, turning the healing bath into a sort of restorative therapy. Malcanthet moaned in joy as the young man massaged and pampered her feet and legs.

“Oh I wish I had a hundred of you boys,” she moaned, her hand playing in the water, ”I’d have you attend me in my Razor Palace.”

“You’re royalty Milady,” Jordan simpered, “I wasn’t informed, I apologize.”

“Displaced royalty — but that will be soon fixed.”

“Of course Milady, Master Max, is very capable. I’m sure he’ll win back your throne.”

“And deny myself the pleasures of your tender young hands and extraordinary tongue?” Malcanthet sighed, “I think not.”

“Still if you were imprisoned in the City of Night,”

Max mused thoughtfully, “it stands to reason others were as well. What would I be looking for?”

“My Radiant Sisters — at their best, they were half-dozen powerful servants skilled in bardic arts. They were meant to fight for me and to die for me before allowing me to be captured and humiliated by mortals. If you had to rescue me I suspect they are gone but we should discover them if feasible.”

“You want to rescue them?”

“It’s cute that you think that,” Malcanthet sneered, “they are my servants and they failed to serve me. If they’re alive I want them dead and if they’re dead I want the portion of my powers invested in them returned to me so I can build new servants.”

“If they were killed or restrained as you were, they may not have had a choice.” Max argued.

“And if they in fact betrayed me I suspect they won’t look kindly upon your own submission to my service — they will respond aggressively.”

“So I’m looking for a bunch of demon powered bards who will either try to kill me because I serve you, try to kill me because they think I imprisoned you or be themselves imprisoned by people who will try to kill me so they can discover and kill YOU.”

Malcanthet giggled, “Sarcasm apart, you’ve clearly grasped the tactical realities at play so I’ll leave it to you how you deal with things.”

“Got any other good news for me?”

“Should you rescue them you’ll discover their gratitude useful as they are how I monitor the progress of those like you I’ve taken as agents in my service

“How many warlocks do you patronize?”

Malcanthet snickered at his phrasing, Loviatar was right, he treated her with respect but his respect didn’t translate into obsequious boot-licking.

She’d be allowed to tease him, taunt him, play whatever games amused them both but if his friends or allies were threatened, she’d see a different and far more malevolent energy surface. She found that idea oddly seductive.

“I’m very discerning who I recruit to my service as such patronage requires investing a certain amount of one’s power and is often seen as a benchmark of one’s influence and authority.” Malcanthet replied.

“So I might run into others with powers like mine?”

“No, you’ll encounter others who have been duped into thinking they’re serving someone powerful,” Malcanthet sneered, “parasites and leeches who take far more than they’ll offer or give freely.”

“Yeah, I got the idea this little arrangement of ours makes YOU more powerful,” Max replied.

“It is a double-edged blade, yes I’m made stronger by our connection but others can sense that connection and draw strength from it,” Malcanthet warned.

“People will try to kill me because I’m a warlock?”

“I’m shocked no one has tried to kill you because of your connection to your Goddess,” Malcanthet replied, “Doubtlessly your formidable friends are an excellent deterrent for anyone looking for an easy meal.”

“You can eat clerics?”

“Clerics, warlocks, pretty much anything that draws its power from an external source.” Malcanthet replied, “I wouldn’t recommend it however — the power boost is temporary and its diminishing effects are like a narcotic.”

Malcanthet would have to be careful, Loviatar had made it clear Max was on loan only. For now at least it was to her advantage to play gently with Loviatar’s toy and by extension his friends and allies.

“So where would I find demon powered bards,” Max mused thoughtfully.

“Perhaps the Succubus Club?” Jordan replied helpfully.

“You’re kidding?”

“I’m not sir, there’s a place in The City of Night. The motif is that of an underworld club but many suspect that some employees are not PRETENDING to be demons.”

“How did they avoid the Inquisitorial Branch?”

“The Order Heretical is a large organization, a tree with many branches, and some are considerably more flexible than others.”

“Don’t suppose you can tell me who to avoid?”

“Well there’s no one I’d tell you was entirely safe exactly but everyone is terrified of Inquisitor-Major Donatella Fairfax.”

Max was still fairly new to the Imperial Capital and hadn’t yet met the infamous witch hunter but her terrifying reputation preceded her and her legend had filtered down to the remote chapel where Max had learned his craft.

“Fairfax is still alive?” Malcanthet hissed.

“Old friends I take it?” Max replied dryly.

“She led the Imperial Strike Team that assaulted Cyndia’s nest. Cyndia captured her, tortured her for some time before your friends were able to rescue her.”

“The Inquisitor-Major Fairfax was rescued by The Living Saint, Queen-Consort Lydia herself,” Jordan said reverently, “may the Gods guide her immortal soul to its eternal glory.”

“So Fairfax was there when Cyndia died,” Max replied, “I guess Eve and Kristina know her.”

“The Good Lady Fairfax returned from the battle gifted by the Gods with divine powers to use against the enemies of the Empire.” Jordan nodded.

Malcanthet sneered, “The truth is Cyndia cursed her as she did your friends though Fairfax’s strength of will apparently allowed her to survive the curse.”

“Inquisitor-Major Fairfax wields The Voice of The Gods,” Jordan replied, “all who hear her voice must submit to her will.”

“More propaganda,” Malcanthet snorted, “she had magical abilities and the curse altered them, some might say corrupted them, she possesses a version of the aura of submission now.”

“Aura of Submission?” Max asked incredulously.

Instead of answering, Malcanthet turned to Jordan, “My pussy needs servicing boy, USE YOUR MOUTH!”


There was something unsettling about Malcanthet’s voice. You didn’t just hear it. You FELT it in every cell and bone of your body.

Jordan ducked his head under the water, and soon Malcanthet’s head snapped back with a moan. Presumably the houseboy was licking her sex like ice cream.

The other unsettling thing was Malcanthet wasn’t moving from the bath so Max very quickly felt the emotional conflict within the boy, the part of him aware he was drowning now lived in servitude to the part of him that wanted, … no NEEDED to, give Malcanthet an oral orgasm with all the passionate desperation of a man dying of thirst offered a cup of water.

“The effect varies with the victim’s strength of will, my strength and even if I’ve fed from them,” Malcanthet gasped, her body jerking and thrashing as Jordan’s oral onslaught teased and pleased her.

Max reached out to the houseboy but Malcanthet stopped him.

“I promise you Max, he won’t drown, the human instinct for survival is incredibly difficult to bypass even for the most powerful domination magic but at my full power I could make him lick me to the point of passing out.”

“And can Fairfax do this, …to anyone?”

“I suspect whatever moral prejudice she holds forbids her from recognizing the true power she holds or what that power’s intended use is for.”

“So she can make people do things and she pretends all the sexual stuff is what … an accident?”

“She’s a rigid and pious woman. Cyndia thought it amusing to give someone with such an obvious distaste for carnal pleasures an uncontrollable ability to trigger those lusts in anyone she encountered.”

“Strikes me as cruel.”

“We’re demons Max, not a charity group,” Malcanthet replied in a voice shockingly free of sarcasm.

“Which means what?” Max grumbled.

“Demons wallow in cruelty and depravity, or at least as humans rate such things.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Doubtlessly she tells herself her victim’s reaction to her power is further proof of THEIR OWN depravity and moral weakness.”

“That seems convenient.”

“There’s none more truly blind than he who refuses to see.”

Jordan suddenly emerged from the water choking and gasping for air.

“See, I told you that he wouldn’t let himself drown while pleasuring me.” Malcanthet smirked.

“You’re doing very well Jordan,” Malcanthet cooed before using The Voice again, “NOW RETURN TO YOUR TASK AND PLEASURE ME.”

The boy took a deep breath and dived underneath the water again.

Èxperience taught her that men often fucked like they fought. If she wanted to see how deadly a combatant Max was it might be informative to watch how he assited in the fucking of this little bitch boy, plus the heath and energy She’d gain would have its own advantages.

Getting what she wanted wouldn’t be hard, Getting Max to play at the level she desired on the other hand, …well she wasn’t Queen of Temptation for nothing.

This time, Max homed in on and amplified Jordan’s emotional conflict, channeled his lust and yes his fear of drowning feeding the intense emotions to the Succubus Queen. Malcanthet started bucking and moaning her fists firmly clutching Jordan’s head as she rode his face from one body-shaking orgasm to the next.

She finally released him and the boy surfaced and sat shivering on the edge of the bath. Malcanthet rose and sauntered towards the young man taking his slim shaft in her grasp. She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Max wasn’t naive enough to think these were innocent sweet-nothings to tease and titillate her young lover. Malcanthet was deploying a combination of The Voice and bardic arts intended to weaken the will to enslave the boy’s libedo to her demonic whims.

He shifted his vision and saw several different demonic spells twisting and tangling around the houseboy’s body like spider silk entrapping an insect.

Now she could fuck the boy for literally hours. His pleasure would begin out as ordinary, building exponentially until Jordan realized that it didn’t matter how much or how long he fucked the demon, he wouldn’t orgasm, … he’d never orgasm.

All too soon the kid started to panic, the feeling of a powerful climax just slightly beyond his reach. His body started to thrash and gyrate, a look of frustrated terror swallowing whatever pleasure he was experiencing. Malcanthet leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“That’s right Bitch,” the Succubus Queen hissed, “your body is MINE to toy with and you’ll cum when I WILL IT and not one second before.”

The frustration would be torturous, maddening even and the boy would eventually offer Malcanthet anything she wanted for the chance to cum. He’d tell her secrets he wouldn’t confess to himself nevermind anyone else. He’d betray his most cherished loved ones. Nothing would matter except for the whisper of a chance to empty his balls.

The literature concerning fraternization with succubi was extensive and not all the time accurate but one thing was consistent across the literature, sex with a succubus, even sharing an intimate kiss was dangerous, reckless and occasionally fatal. And Max had agreed to serve one of them, a Queen no less.

Still, the literature on his divine Mistress Loviatar was equally terrifying and thus far THEY’D had a lot of fun.

Malcanthet whispered in Jordan’s head, “PLEASURE MY SERVANT WITH YOUR MOUTH, BITCH.”

Jordan instantly fell on Max’s caged penis, inhaling it. He took the caged shaft in his mouth and gave Max a remarkably capable blowjob. He licked and sucked it like it was a popsicle. Max’s sensations were obviously dulled but HIS enjoyment was secondary.

Jordan’s efforts were instead being channeled by the magic of Max’s cock cage to the succubus. Malcanthet started shifting and bucking her hips as if feeling the young man’s every lick and kiss herself. The better the blowjob Jordan gave to Max the greater the pleasure Malcanthet felt.

Finally she reached down and grabbed Jordan’s head pulling him in for a vicious animalistic kiss.


Max looked down at the magical contraption affixed to his manhood.. Hidden gears and modular parts swiveled and shifted around his manhood to make room for a new previously unseen shape. Max’s manhood was soon shrouded by a much larger feux-cock that was almost horse-like in both size and shape.

“Bitch clearly wants a stud so I’ll let you fuck AS a stud,” Loviatar whispered to his mind.

Malcanthet commandingly told Jordan to kneel before her, Max stepped behind the femboy maid. He summoned out of thin air a small portion of water around the horse-cock shaped dildo.

“Lube…really?” Loviatar snorted.

Max rolled his eyes, she wasn’t called Goddess of Pain and Torture for nothing.

Max focused his mana and applied a minor curse to the liquid that would make Jordan’s ass overly sensitive.

“That’s my obedient Branded One,” Loviatar cooed indignantly

“Who knew creating magical butt butter would open so many doors for me,” Max chuckled while he started humming to focus his bardic and even warlock powers.

Max slid the tip of his fake-shaft deep inside the crossdresser’s bussy. The boy moaned and so did Malcanthet. He started stroking the shaft in and out of the asshole in front of him concentrating on heightening Jordan’s pleasure and by extension that of The Succubus Queen. Max grabbed the houseboy’s hips and plunged himself deep inside Jordan’s overstimulated bussy. He timed his thrusts with the tempo of the tune he was humming.

Jordan moaned and wriggled on the end of the fake-cock. He wasn’t trying to wriggle free however instead he was bouncing enthusiastically on the toy pumping into him. He reached out to Malcanthet who took his hands.

“Thank the Mistress Jordie, she’s decided your boy-pussy needs filling up,” Max grunted.

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