Sacrificial Lamb

Thank you all for reading my first story and being patient with me as I get the hang of this whole storytelling thing! I would love any and all constructive feedback! I have two more parts planned for this series (making it a 5 part series) and I plan on getting them out this month. Thanks again, and enjoy!

***Disclaimer: this story contains themes of nonconsent/rape. If that isn't your thing, this isn't for you, sorry!***

...

Hemma woke to a pounding in her head. The nausea seemed to have passed and her skin no longer felt like it was being cooked from the inside. She opened her eyes and had to squint against the bright daylight.

She was in a room she didn't recognise. Still clearly in Fosta's caves, with the intricately carved walls and cave ceilings. Similar to the library, this room also opened up to the outside, with a cliff face and ocean as far as the eye could see. In the silence she could hear distant waves crashing and ocean birds calling to one another.

Going to roll on her side, Hemma found that she couldn't. Her arms were over her head, secured to two bed posts with rope. Her legs were also bound, spread slightly apart and attached to the foot of the bed. She was naked under a soft blanket. Hemma groaned out loud, cursing to herself, not again...

"Are you awake?"

Hemma's eyes shot to the other side of the room, where Fosta sat in a chair in the shadowed corner of the large bedroom. Instead of responding, Hemma glared, trying not to show the fear she felt or the involuntary clench of muscles deep down. The latter helped fuel her anger.

Fosta chuckled a deep laugh that resonated through his chest, amused by her anger and resistance. It made him want to make her submit to him all the more. Hemma felt like she could feel the vibrations of that chuckle all over her body. She was suddenly hot again, but not in the unbearable burning way she had felt earlier. This time she was very aware of what these feelings were, and as much as she did not want them, she also didn't want them to stop.

Hemma tested her bonds, pulling firmly on the expertly tied knots. Thankfully these weren't as cold and uncomfortable as the metal cuffs had been, in fact the rope was actually quite soft and tied tight enough to retrain but not to hurt. This realization made her even more uncomfortable. He wanted her to be comfortable. Hemma didn't want him to care for her. She wanted him to release her. If he had any care for her, Hemma had no doubt he would keep her tied to this bed for as long as he wanted.

Their eyes met again, and Fosta's gaze had changed from one of amusement to one of desire. Hemma tried to swallow as a lump formed in her throat.

"Let me go," Hemma tried to say in an authoritative voice. Instead it came out as a broken plea.

If her distress affected him at all, Fosta didn't show it.

"I have given you a gift," Fosta stated, clearly struggling to stay seated.

"...what do you mean? Please, just..."

"The life you knew has now changed. You won't be able to return to it."

"But... But that's not how it's supposed to go!" Hemma started to panic. He really did mean to keep her here! "You said I had done what I was supposed to! I'm supposed to go back! I... I have a life, people waiting for me!" She couldn't stop the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes.

Fosta finally looked the tiniest bit remorseful, as he stood up and approached, putting a comforting hand on her hand. Instead of comfort, however, this only reminded her of her current situation. Naked and restrained in the bed of a psychopathic and power hungry god.

"I am sorry the choice was taken from you, but this will be so much better than your short human life. You will see. I have saved you." The last few words, Fosta growled with such conviction, Hemma believed him. Or at least, she believed that he believed he had saved her.

"What have you done to me?" Hemma asked, trying to piece together all the fragmented conversations she had heard while she had been fading in and out of consciousness.

Fosta thought for a moment before asking, "How do you feel?"

"Feel? I feel, the same... better. I don't think I'll be sick anymore..."

"But, what else do you feel? Besides that."

"Um..." Hemma wasn't sure how to answer that. She took stock of her body, head to toes, ten fingers, two legs. Her breathing was steady, her vision was clear. It was better than clear actually. The longer she was awake the more she noticed. Her hearing was sharper as well. And the feel of the blanket on her skin was divine! Had fur always been this soft?

The more she thought about it, the more aware of her sensitivity she became. Her breath quickened, and her stomach and chest felt each individual caress of the fur blanket. To her embarrassment, her nipples were now painfully hard, and she felt sure that if Fosta looked close enough he would be able to see them.

"Well?" Fosta asked again, when Hemma didn't answer.

"I... I feel... everything..." Her cheeks turned pink as her body started heating up, and she squirmed slightly in her bonds.

Fosta caught the movement and knew exactly what she was feeling. He wasn't entirely sure the elixir had worked in turning this mortal into a goddess. It was entirely possible it had just healed her from the banishing of her corruption, but it seemed unlikely it would have affected her so severely without some kind of change. Still, he had to be sure.

"Did you know that there is a reason gods are so infamous for their sexual expoits? Why they so often end up in precarious and questionable situations?"

This shift in topics threw Hemma off. Why was he talking about this?

With a knowing look Fosta asked again, "How are you feeling, little fox?"

"I... what?" Hemma was having trouble focusing or comprehending this departure from her own thoughts. All she could think about was how she wished her hands were free as she pressed her legs together, trying to find some relief.

Fosta just chuckled again. "This is going to be fun."

He pulled the blanket off, exposing Hemmas naked form to the brightly lit room. She gasped at the friction, feeling herself dampen with her own arousal. Her chest heaved and Fosta took the opportunity to devour her nipples, sending shocks of pleasure straight to her core.

"Please," Hemma pleaded, intending to ask him to stop, but even she didn't know what she was really asking for.

He moved down her body, kissing a trail down. His hands caressed her sides, following his descent. When he reached his target he wasted no time, and used his tongue to taste the moisture glistening on her lips. It was like a drug, and as soon as he tasted her all he wanted was more. He dove in, licking, kissing, and sucking, not leaving any spot untouched. He held her legs down as they went to close around his head. Pressing them into the bed, Hemma was held immobile and at the complete mercy of the god who had decided she was his. All she could do was take it.

Hemma had been sexually awakened for some time now, but never had she felt a need like this. It was as if she didn't care where the relief came from as long as she was taken care of. She had a sudden realization that this is what he was talking about. This is sexual overdrive was responsible for the gods' permiscuity, fucking cousins, goats, and even ships. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat and quickly turned into a moan. It was all so ridiculous!

Fosta looked up at Hemma, pleasantly surprised at the outburst. "Funny, am I?"

Hemma shook her head, "No, no, it was-"

"I'll show you just how funny I can be."

Fosta worked two fingers into her folds, pressing slowly and firmly until they were seated deeply inside of her. Hemma forgot what she had been about to say as he lowered his head once more, sucking the bundle of nerves right above his fist. He rotated his hand until his palm faced up, and started massaging the top of her walls, beckoning her to him.

Hemma's breathing picked up and her body went rigid. She felt her release right about to crest when he pulled out his fingers and sat back. Hemma lifted her head as high and as quickly as she could, crying out at the loss. She was furious, and glared at the man who dare tease her like this. Fosta watched with fascination as her eyes changed from their light blue hue, to a fiery red glow, like hot embers.

In that moment he thought she looked perfect. Her hair a wavy halo of dark red, her body tensed with desire, her piercing gaze fixed right on him. This goddess was his. He would never let her go.

He grinned a white toothed grin, his own eyes shining back, their icy blue the perfect complement to his Norse features. Unfastening his pants and tearing off his shirt, he held her stare and grabbed her hips, thrusting his hard cock as deep as he could into her dripping entrance. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she cried out again, feeling every inch, every vein and the subtle curve more acutely than she had before. There was nothing but pleasure. Mind numbing pleasure.

Fosta thrust into her again and again, picking up speed and force. He never wanted this to end, but he couldn't bring himself to slow down either. His hands moved back down, one caressing her clit with a thumb and the other grabbing her ass, pulling her cheeks apart and lifting her slightly off the bed. His cock hit deeper at this new angle, causing them to moan in unison.

Hemma could feel her climax finally peaking, and her body exploded with pleasure. She spasmed against the ropes, power coursing through her body and her eyes glowing hotter and brighter than before.

A force threw Fosta off the bed and across the room. Hemma's whole body began to buzz. Her fingers and toes felt like they were being massaged with thousands of needles. The sensation spread up her arms and legs and throughout her torso. It felt comforting and natural. Her stomach suddenly felt like it was dropping, like how it had felt when she had fallen off a tree as a child. She blacked out for a moment before she felt another burst of energy and she was floating, free from her ties, above the bed, and looking down at a shocked Fosta who appeared pinned to the ground and unable to move.

She realized that she wasn't in fact floating, but flying. She was flapping wings, her own wings, that had replaced her arms. It all felt so natural, so instinctual. She caught a glimpse of the open sky and was drawn to it like a magnet. She swooped out of the room, over the cliff, and over the open ocean.

Fosta watched, dumbstruck, as a phoenix, almost as large as the woman who had been laying in bed just a moment ago, flapped its wide spread wings and soared gracefully over the cliff. The long red tail feathers brushed the floor and it was gone. Fosta smiled the most genuine smile he had in years. He had never imagined she would have become so powerful so quickly. This magnificent goddess was full of great power and potential. Not only had the elixir worked, but it had created a goddess whose power might rival all but his own. And she was going to be his.

...

The hills and fields sped by underneath her as Hemma soared through the air. She could see the Village of the Gods in the distance. Fosta's caves had sat on the opposite side of the same island, and as soon as she had left the prison she could sense the location. She could also sense some of the surrounding islands, ships crashing through the sea, populations of people, great and small, it was as if it was all linked by an interconnected network of energy that she was somehow able to tap into.

The Village of the Gods was the closest town she could feel, and unable to come up with a better plan or be certain how much longer these new found abilities might last, Hemma made a beeline for the temple. She knew if she made it there she would be cared for as a returned sacrifice. At least until Fosta caught up with her, but she didn't intend to stay long.

She came up on the town's walls, swooping low, flying just above the rooftops. She spotted a couple people below shouting and pointing up, but by the time they called attention, she was already gone.

The temples loomed ahead, and from this height, Hemma spotted the leafless, ice covered branches of a tree in an enclosed courtyard. She recognized the location and made for a landing at the base of the tree, circling twice before flapping her giant wings and coming to a stop. As her feet hit the ground, she was engulfed in flames. A moment later, the flames were gone and Hemma stood naked, once again in human form.

Her legs shook and she fell back against the tree trunk. She hadn't stood since reading the walls of the library. How long has it been, she wondered. It could have been a day or a week, she had no idea.

A small squeak followed by the thud of something heavy hitting the ground echoed into the courtyard. A young boy stood in the doorway, wide eyed and staring.

"Hestor! That is an ancient text! I should have you beaten for-" A priest stopped mid-reprimand when he spotted the naked woman standing in the snowy courtyard. "She's back... SHE'S BACK!"

A flurry of activity surrounded the exhausted sacrifice. Priests and priestesses escorted her inside, wrapping her in a cloak and checking her all over for signs of injury. Luckily they didn't get too intimate. A piece of bread was thrust into one hand and a cup of water in the other, and she was led into a large room that resembled Fosta's library, but larger and much more tidy, with rows and rows of tables in the middle. Hemma was put in a large chair right in front of a giant fireplace that must have been heating the entire wing. Grateful for the warmth, Hemma curled up under the blanket, nibbling the bread and sipping the water.

A kind looking priest with graying hair knelt in front of Hemma.

"How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere? I'm the healer here. I can help."

Hemma lifted tired eyes to meet the healer's. "How long?"

"Ten days."

"Oh..." Ten days, so she must have been out of it for quite some time.

"Do you need any healing?"

"No. No, I think I'm ok. I'm ok now."

The healer nodded sadly, and gave Hemma a knowing look before standing the leave. As he stood, a commotion on the other side of the room echoed across the room.

"I heard she was back, let me see her! I have been waiting long enough!" A young man shoved his way past a group of guards, men flanking either side of him and brandishing their own impressive weapons. The man who had spoken was very good looking. He was tall and muscular, but not overly so, with short brown hair and a sharp clean shaven jaw line. His rich brown eyes met Hemma's, who was a bit awe struck at this man, even after spending so much time with the not unattractive Fosta.

"Lord Huber, please! We are still attending to your betrothed. Let us make sure she is alright!"

"I can confirm her health just as easily as you, and I have brought my own healer to see her tended to. Now let. Me. Through."

Lord Gerrit Huber strode across the room, finally past the temple guards, straight toward Hemma. Hemma couldn't help but cower slightly from the intensity with which he approached. He immediately went from enraged to concerned as he bent to her level and took her bread filled hand into his own.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm here now, everything is going to be ok. We are going to take you home and you are going to be safe. No more of this nonsense." Gerrit caught Hemma's eye once again and gave her a dashing smile that drew a small smile to her own lips.

"Lord Huber, you cannot just take her away. We have processes, there are rituals that still need to be performed!" A distressed priest stood behind Gerrit, eyeing his escorts warily.

"Screw your rituals. She has been through enough. She is coming home."

"But Lor-"

"I said she is finished! Now leave us in peace!"

The priest looked unhappy, but backed away, speaking quietly to a group of priests and priestesses gathered across the room.

"Hemma?"

Hemma started at the sound of her own name, looking at this stranger who looked too good to be true.

"Are you ready to go home Hemma?"

She just nodded, too tired to argue and just relieved to have found her way back into her own life.

...

Hemma was checked over quickly by the healer Gerrit had brought along with him, and when it was determined she wasn't gravely injured, she was given a dress and loaded into a carriage. A crowd had gathered outside the temple, even larger than the day of the festival. When she walked out, there was a roar of voices, everyone asking her questions all at once, and Gerrit's escorts had to force a path through the crowd to walk the short distance to the carriage.

"Seems like you're popular," Gerrit joked once they were safely inside.

His easy smile put Hemma at ease, and she felt like she could relax for the first time since all this had begun. She laughed along with him and leaned her head back against the carriage, closing her eyes and enjoying the relative safety while she had it.

...

They rode most of the day in the carriage, making their way out to the Huber estate on the opposite side of the island. Heading this direction made Hemma nervous, feeling like she was being led back to Fosta, but Gerrit engaged her in easy conversation, keeping her mind from thinking too much about it.

He never asked what had happened, and Hemma was grateful for it. He sounded exactly as he had in the letters they had exchanged, jovial and a little romantic. He didn't push for anything more than pleasant conversation, asking about Hemma's favorite foods and leisure activities (blueberries and horseback riding). He was so easy to talk to and had Hemma laughing at stories of himself as a young man, attempting to ride a wild horse bareback and getting bucked so hard he couldn't walk right for a week.

By the time they arrived at the estate it was well past dark and they were greeted at the door by a pleasant older man and woman who Gerrit introduced as his parents, Lord Bennett Huber and Lady Astrid Turgot Huber. They both embraced her with full faced smiles and led her into the large house.

"I am so sorry for everything you have been through since you arrived here!" Gerrit's father exclaimed as they settled into chairs around a long table built for feasts. "When you arrived early we should have had a man there to escort you. If they had known who you were they would have never forced you to participate in that antiquated tradition. By the time Gerrit arrived in town you were already gone and he sent word about what had happened."

Early? Hemma thought. That must have been how Ospree had been able to intercept her so easily... had she had a hand in her betrothal as well? How long had she been planning this abduction...? Since before she had arrived? Before she had been betrothed to the Hubers? Before then?

"We are happy you are here now," Gerrit's mother interrupted her husband's rant with a strong northern accent. She gave Hemma a gentle smile that seemed in contrast to her sharp, hard features.

"Oh yes!," Lord Bennet exclaimed. Hemma could tell where Gerrit got his over the top personality. "We are more than excited! If you had any idea how long it took for us to convince our son to settle down and start a family. The wedding is still on! We never got around to canceling it, expecting you back any moment. I admit, you took a bit longer than we were expecting, most sacrifices are back within the week, but nevertheless, tomorrow will be magnificent!"

Hemma choked on the water she had been handed. "Tomorrow?" she coughed.

"Do not fret dear one," Gerrit comforted with a hand on her back. "I admit it is rather quick. We were meant to have a week to get to know one another, but my parents can be quite extravagant, and, well, with the army of staff and attendants who will descend onto this estate tomorrow morning and all the guests coming in from overseas, it would be near impossible to reschedule the affair."