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Notes, warnings, and caveats:
* World: As always, my people, places, and magical systems may or may not match what you have come to expect - either from me or from others. I will do my best to fully supply everything that you need for this journey.
* Currency: 1 Gold = 10 Silver = 100 Bronze = 1,000 Copper = 10,000 Zinc (a Copper is roughly equivalent to a dollar, Euro, or what-have-you)
* Levels: Magical Levels will be provided simply to give a point of reference to show advancement in skills for the characters. Spells and Skills will be shown via "System" messages - to let you know what effects are in play.
* Incest: As you will learn, this world shackles (literally and otherwise) women. It limits their ability to do anything without a master - a male to whom they've pledged themselves. Under these restrictions, females can't be picky. If your sister's husband will accept you as a second wife, you'd better have a good reason to decline. If he wants to watch you eating her out, there's little question about how you're going to spend your evening. This story is tagged "incest" for just that reason. The only incest in this series is sex-play between sisters.
~~~
"Gift of the Goddess" contains 11 chapters - and ends with an epilogue that is so short that almost no one will be happy with it. While editing the various segments in the series, I got a wild hair to offer an interlude that I thought I needed to cover. That led to me writing a second quick piece to tie up an important loose-end that I'd forgotten about. Those two stories are included as 'Chapter 12'. This series has dragged me away from projects that I should be finishing. For now, at least, I'm stopping with what I have here: 11+1 chapters. I will submit them all at the same time and they should be released a day or so apart. I hope you like this world as much as I do.
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~~~ Prologue ~~~
Basil Hosmer considered himself to be a media connoisseur - specializing in the curation of erotic imagery and multimedia recordings. In truth, Basil was simply a porn addict.
His obsession had begun when he was visiting his maternal grandparents' home.
On the way to completing a quest assigned by his grandmother - to get the dirty dishes from his uncle's bedroom so that they could be washed - he came upon his first pornographic magazine. He nearly shit himself when - as he was staring slack-jawed at the gorgeous centerfold - he heard his matronly quest-giver coming up the stairs to see why he'd been delayed. The magazine was tossed back to somewhere near where (he hoped) he'd found it. He grabbed up the items he'd been sent for and made a hasty retreat from the den of iniquity.
He met his grandmother at the top of the stairs. Fortunately, the stack of plates, bowls, trash, and silverware in his hands were determined to be more than one person could safely transport down the steps. She relieved him of half of the load and, together, they returned to the kitchen - where the sink was nearly overflowing with water. (Grandma had forgotten to turn off the faucet.)
For the next two hours, the two of them washed, rinsed, dried, and put away dishes. Basil spent the entire time with the image of the buxom blonde model superimposed over every single thing that his eyes focused on.
He was staying with grandma for five more days - his yearly summer break with his mom's parents. Over those next few days, he thought that he'd been careful about sneaking away to dig through the disorganized stack of dirty magazines under his uncle's bed. The next time he came to visit, however, the treasury of forbidden pictures had disappeared.
He carefully searched his uncle's room but could never determine where the magazines had gone. On his third attempt at sleuthing out their new hiding place, the owner of the room had come tromping up the stairs. Basil hastily stuttered out his poorly-manufactured justification for why he was where he shouldn't be. The lie had been carefully crafted and fully practiced before he'd ever snuck up the stairs - but it was spoken without emotion or pause. Basil was sure that his uncle knew what he was up to. He vowed to never be caught there again. He kept that vow.
Back home once more, Basil was desperate to find more pictures to sate his lust. He told his story to a fellow classmate on the bus - on the way to school - and discovered a fellow questor. His friend knew where his father's stash of dirty magazines was hidden and told Basil how he'd found it.
Basil spent that night quietly scouring his own home, looking for his father's collection. He never found it. By the second night of fruitless searching, Basil had determined that his father either didn't have such an archive - or he was better at hiding things than Basil had given him credit for.
Every week or so, after that discovery, Basil made up reasons to stay overnight with his friend. When the two were alone in the house, they dug through the dirty magazines and talked about which models were their favorites and why.
Basil preferred thin, athletic girls. His friend liked curves - the more the better. Eventually, Basil's parents got him a computer - and he cast his virtual net wide. His friend did as well - but got caught almost immediately - and shared his experiences (and the details of his punishment) with Basil. Basil quickly learned to erase the evidence of his activities - preventing his parents from finding him out. By the time Basil and his friend graduated from high school and went their separate ways - they each had USB sticks with their collections on them - hidden safely from prying eyes.
The two of them had been forced - multiple times - to upgrade to larger and larger removable drives - in order to accommodate their massive collections of pictures and videos. Basil's friend collected a bit of everything. Basil was choosier. He didn't do scat or watersports. He didn't care for non-consent and wasn't big on bondage. He had a few anal pictures - depending on the model - but almost no videos of such activities.
Basil occasionally encountered a picture of a transgender person in his searches. He wondered why it seemed like so many thought it was funny to sneak pictures of traps and femboys into collections of females. If those individuals wanted to "proselytize", Basil thought that honesty was probably the best way to go about it - not subversion.
Basil's preferred picture was that of a hot-looking woman on her hands and knees - with her goodies fully displayed to him as she glanced over her shoulder - giving him a lust-filled or doe-eyed look. His second favorite was of them on their backs, legs spread wide, inviting him to devour her body with his eyes - before claiming her as his own.
Each night, before he fell asleep, Basil was careful to make sure that the memory-stick was safely stored away in its hiding place.
~~~
Pamela Barons was not the hottest girl in Basil's class. Neither was she the brightest, fastest, or strongest. She did, however, most closely match his "ideal woman". Her shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair was always a unruly mess, almost greasy looking. It made her look a little wild. Her unkempt appearance drove others away; it drew Basil like a moth to a flame. It had been his ultimate desire - spoken aloud only to his co-conspirator - to ask Pamela out and (potentially) lose his virginity to her. Graduation came and went however and, still, he had not amassed the courage to face her and confess his love (or lust).
On the night he died, Basil Hosmer was staring at a picture he'd just found on the internet. The photo was so close in appearance to Pamela Barons that he was focusing on it at the detriment of everything going on around him.
He was desperately trying to decide if it could - possibly - be Pamela. Basil had swiped away the severe weather notifications on his phone. He'd gasped each time the lights had flickered - worried that he might lose the images he had queued up to be saved on the memory-stick before they could be successfully downloaded.
A massive bolt of lightning arced through the sky, darted towards one of the lightning rods on the roof of the house, changed course to target the huge elm tree in the back yard, and then shot through Basil's window - spearing through his chest - before blasting his computer - which caused it to explode.
The coroner ruled his death as heart-failure but the casket was closed because of the burns - and the shrapnel wounds.
~~~
Basil's mouth was still open - in a silent scream - when he appeared in front of the most beautiful, most naked, most perfect, most powerful woman that he'd ever met. She was standing before him - completely comfortable in her nakedness - waiting for him to regain control of himself.
He was standing as well - facing her - but there was nothing beneath his feet. He was floating in space.
There is - as Basil well knew - no sound in space. That explained why his scream was silent. He stopped screaming and closed his mouth.
"Basil Hosmer," she said. "Step forward."
"So much for that whole 'no sound in space bullshit'," he thought to himself.
Basil stepped towards the woman and found that - somehow - his feet had traction and his steps carried his body towards the goddess-like female - even though the two of them were (in his mind) standing in mid-air (or, he supposed, mid-space).
The gorgeous woman reached the index finger of her right hand out and just barely touched his forehead. He "watched" in awe as the image of the Pamela Barons lookalike appeared in his mind as if it were a real photograph - a life-sized image that completely filled his vision.
The woman tutted softly and the picture that he thought might be Pamela Barons disappeared - to be replaced by one of his favorite models from the memory-stick. That picture moved aside as well and the next one came - and then the next - and the next - and...
The first video arrived. Based on the way the space-woman's eyes flitted to Basil's and then back to the video-clip (shot in POV-mode) it was obvious that the woman had thought that the video was actually a memory of something that Basil had participated in. She thought that it had been him - fucking the girl in the clip.
"Do this," she ordered, "with me."
"I'm... I'm a virgin," Basil gasped.
