The Secret Lives of Goddesses 03

The following is, by a certain definition, a futanari/dickgirl story. It does NOT at any point feature sex with minors (individuals below the age of 18)

Chapter 1

"It is time, my daughter."

Genera nodded solemnly and rose to her feet. Her ceremonial garb -- loose, shimmering layers of beautifully patterned and warm coloured material, fell about her to hang from her shoulder and breast to the ground, hiding her footsteps. Her pace was unsure, perhaps even a little timid, but the priestesses had spoken. It was she who would be honoured on that day, as none others had been for generations.

Her mother's gaze was cast downward as Genera slowly passed through the sandstone doorway of the waiting room into the temple's main hall. Soon she would no longer be her daughter. Soon she would be honoured as the matron and indeed also the patron of her people, a symbolic birthgiver to all who inhabited their secluded archipelago. It was a custom that had existed for millenia, unchanged by the distractions of the modern world.

She stood before the headpriestess. Behind her the devout had all gathered in that hall, standing in rows by the wall, their eyes all fixed upon her.

"Are you ready, Genera Zechmari?"

She nodded once. "Yes, headpriestess," she whispered.

"Then we shall begin." The headpriestess shut her eyes, taking a moment to gather herself. "Today is a day our people have awaited for a long, long time. Today, my beautiful dear, is the beginning of your eighteenth year. Yet we have waited far longer than that. For lifetimes we have been without a goddess. None still live who can recall a time when one walked amongst us. Yet our legend, our most precious and unchanging possession, has dictated that this day would come. Finally, it has, and now it is not only legend that we shall cherish. There is no doubt amongst us, that

you

, brightest star, are our goddess!"

Those dramatic words brought a rush of excitement from the villagers, a sound of wonderment and exaltation that reverberated warmly off of the ancient walls.

"We look to you now, to deliver our little nation the divine gifts that were promised to us in legend. We look to you to bring us the wisdom, fertility and order that was once so common to us."

Genera nodded again. How she could manage to deliver on such a promise, she did not yet know. But surely it was true. Since the day she was chosen, she had been taught that it was so, and so every day since had been living in anticipation of this strange, holy day.

At first it was only her closest relatives who believed that she, a strangely androgynous little child, might be the one. But the priestesses knew of her, and quietly they had watched. As the years passed and she matured, all doubt vanished. Like the rest of the girls, she had come into rich bloom at the onset of puberty, but hers was of a dual nature. For it she was revered as a sort of princess, held separate from the rest of the tiny island nation's youth.

The headpriestess stepped closer, and with an impassioned little puff she embraced Genera. "My dear, it brings... it brings me such joy," she stuttered, her flat ceremonial tone giving way to one of heartfelt gratitude, "...to be the one to finally perform this rite for our people. May I... may I unveil you now?"

Genera took a deep breath. "Yes, headpriestess. You may."

The people were rapt, staring in anticipation of what was to come. Mouths hung agape as villagers stepped closer, bunching together to see the unveiling of their new goddess.

Genera shut her eyes and spread her arms, palms facing outward, as the headpriestess and two of her subordinates removed the ceremonial robe. There was a collective gasp, an intake of air that seemed to remove all oxygen from the room once they beheld her.

She truly was divinely blessed. She was like the ancient rain worn statues that lined their oldest streets. Like the traditional figurines that every follower of the old ways had somewhere in their home. She was like the original mother-father goddess; not a facsimile but of the same form.

They had all known her face well enough, a mysterious young beauty with long, tightly curled black locks of hair who was being kept in the temple. They had spoken rumours of her, speculating as to whether she really would be all that the priestesses promised. Now they saw that it was true.

Her body was olive skinned perfection. She was athletic yet feminine, slender yet curvy at her generous breast, waist and hip. This was of no surprise, for it was common among the women and girls that inhabited those islands to be so blessed, though she was especially so. The thing that was so surprising, that made it so evident that she was their chosen one, was the prodigious male features she bore between her legs. They hung low, unaroused and soft, yet in that state she was already as large as the proudest of the village's men. It was her legendary trait of divinity.

"All hail Genera, goddess of Aerotia!"

"HAIL!"

***

The ceremony had ended and all had left the temple, save for Genera and her chosen two. She had selected a pair of girls her own age, best friends from her childhood whom she'd lost touch with once the priestesses had taken her in.

They stood before her now in near silence, needing to speak only whispers. The years had been very kind to them, and indeed it wasn't merely their past friendships that had Genera choosing them as her first worshippers. They had blossomed into beauty, their young bodies trim yet blessed in ways that had kept them in her mind through all the years she'd spent hidden away, catching only glimpses of her old friends as they matured. They were dressed to flatter the fact in clothing designed to tempt her lust, showcasing lush cleavage and leaving nothing else to the imagination with scant transparent fabrics that stopped where their thighs began.

"Genera, we are... honoured," said Drea. Laene, the shyer of the two, nodded her agreement. "We thought you would have forgotten us, since it's been so long since we used to play..."

"I could never forget you. You were always my favourite friends. I wanted to be with you always, instead of studying tradition with the priestesses..."

"Well, we'll be by your side now, whenever possible," Laene said.

Drea smirked, "yes... there will be plenty of time, now, for us to 'play'."

Genera giggled softly, perhaps slightly bashfully, and the other two did the same. Their laughter was cathartic, relieving them of some of their tension.

"So... what now?" Laene said.

"Well... the rest of the village will be in a fit if we don't begin our first fertility rites soon," Genera said. "Until then, they can have no feast."

Laene nodded slowly, her trepidation barely hidden. An entire harvest of wine was waiting on them, along with all of the delicious varieties of food their island could produce. "Yes, of course."

"Are you nervous, Laene?" Genera said.

"We both are," Drea replied.

"Well, it may not seem very goddess-like of me, but I am also. Perhaps this new life of ours will take a little getting used to."

"Well... we might as well get started, then," Drea said. She stepped close and took one of Genera's hands in her own. Laene saw this and did the same. At that proximity their bodies were, for the first time since childhood, touching, and Genera could smell the intoxicating aroma of their perfume in the hot air as it rose from their temptingly presented chests, which glistened bronze in the heat.

At that scent, the sensation of their contact and the blatant displaying of their beauty, Genera was beginning to feel what it was to be their goddess, and as the moment carried on her interest became plain to see. The two girls gawked at the sight of her gown as it rose away from her hips, tenting out before her as her divine trait grew larger than they had ever expected, even after the unveiling ceremony that had just taken place.

Laene looked like she'd seen a ghost, while Drea bit down on her lip in a flush of lust. Their goddess began to shiver with excitement.

"We'd better begin, then," Genera said. She guided them into her private chambers.

Chapter 2

The sound of their door opening and being shut, a purse being dropped upon the table at the entrance. Marla was home. No need to get up, or even say anything. Jessica gazed down at the traffic below their condo, at cars whizzing past, transporting an endless flow of people to an endless variety of mundane tasks.

They had seen the world together, and it was an amazing experience, but after two decades the experience had become dull. In the end it was always the same: luxury wherever they went, that same love for each other, and children. There was always children. It was predictable, a product of their very specific biological imperatives. By now they had created a dozen young orphans, who were growing up as goddesses among the human race and continuing their pattern with human women of their own choosing. And yet Jessica was no worse for wear, in fact from a physical standpoint she was just as youthful as she was the day she and Marla had met, herself just an eighteen year old then.

That wasn't to say their partnership hadn't left her changed... far from it, in fact. She was still human, but only by a general definition. Her mind was acute and quick, a sponge for information. She was immune to disease, quick to heal, and eternally youthful. Should she find herself in danger, her sheer strength was enough to handle it... Yet she didn't look intimidating in the least, unless one was intimidated by beauty, for that was something which she had no shortage of. With a face like a Disney princess mated to a body from someone's wildest wet dream, she had caught Marla's attention as a young lady... But her innocence, sweetness and good hearted nature were what had won the goddess over, and over the breadth of a year Marla had shared her gift with Jessica. Now she had grown into an idol of lust, her slender elegance graced with curves and a truly voluminous bust that practically defied belief. Everywhere she went eyes were on her, be it with jealousy or desire.

Together they had lived as their instincts had dictated, doing their best to fill the world with more of their kind. It was a strange way of life, but it was theirs. It was written in their genes.

She had become sullen. She was dissatisfied with the stagnant state of her life. To acknowledge the fact was heart breaking for her, for she still loved Marla deeply, but she had a nagging, barely acknowledged feeling that it was time to move on and start something new.

Marla sat down by her and fixed her gaze downwards, likewise staring at the river of asphalt and steel below. "We can see everything from up here."

Jessica nodded. She reached out and gently took one of Marla's hands, still silently watching.

"Is something wrong, darling?"

She shrugged. Briefly looking up, she saw that the violet eyes of her lover were no longer on the city below, but fixed intently on her. "I..." At a loss for words she sighed and averted her gaze tiredly.

"You what, darling?" There was a tense pause. It had been a long while since they had a conversation such as this, where she with her centuries of experience had to guide Jessica through her uncertainty to get what needed to be said out in the open. "You seem to have grown... tired. Yet you're restless."

Jessica nodded again, returning her gaze to Marla. She could tell that she knew what she was feeling, that she had probably seen it before. "Yes, that's true."

"I've noticed it for a while now. Too long, in fact."

Jessica shrugged again.

"Well... what can I say, except to point out that you have your whole life ahead of you... and what a long, long life that will be. We just celebrated our twentieth anniversary, and it was a quiet affair. But twenty years is nothing compared to the centuries that lie ahead."

"What are you trying to say?" Though her words were cryptic Jessica could read Marla, and those implications, coupled with what she herself felt, fed her despair.

"I'm saying... that," Marla said, searching for the right words. "That what you are feeling is normal, and I have expected it. What I'm saying is that, if you feel like the time has come..."

Jessica eyes were starting to well up, beautiful emerald jewels glistening as the cause of her sadness was realized. "Oh, no... Marla!" She fell into Marla's arms, suddenly sobbing.

"It's all up to you, darling. Your choice. I'll always be doing what I've done... that will never change. But your journey has only begun." She tenderly stroked Jessica's reddish gold hair as she clung tight.

"I don't want to... I don't know what I'll do! I feel like we've built something, something wonderful, but we've spent years just standing outside of it and admiring. For far too long."

"Shhh... darling. Give it a little more time, and you'll know where you need to be."

Jessica nodded, wiping a tear from her eye as she rested her head against Marla's breast.

Chapter 3

When she and her two chosen ones had emerged from the temple they were met with roars of applause and adoration. The entire village had been gathered outside, patiently waiting for a sign that the first blessed consummation had been fulfilled. As the people cheered casks of wine were opened, and the revelry began.

It was an epic festival the likes of which had never been seen in Aerotia for generations. Long tables stretched across the main square, heaped with food. The drinks were endless. There was music, dancing, and soon enough plenty of mischief and chaos.

The following morning Genera found herself peacefully pacing about the temple grounds, dressed in a light pink sarong that wrapped her from breast to knees beautifully. It was poised to become her trademark outfit, as it fitted her more comfortably than anything else. Though the fabric was thin and translucent it encircled her form enough times to become opaque and give her cover. There were no long trailing bits to step on, no dangling jewels to get snagged and cause tears as she moved, so she favoured it above any of the more complicated and 'goddess-like' looks the priestesses were offering. She fancied herself more like a princess of Aerotia than such, anyway.

All of her old clothing had been stored away the day of her ceremony, replaced with generally regal looking outfits. Before she dressed modestly, feeling self conscious about the unique features she bore, for she'd wished not to attract any undue attention. Things were different now and her new wardrobe made no efforts to hide the fact; the priestesses wished to show off the most beautiful one in all of their island kingdom. Everything showed more than it hid, revealing plenty of mocha skin, showcasing the slender athleticism and fertile curves of her body, letting her very generous chest and lower blessings bounce and swing freely.

Her rich mass of curling black locks was tied up into a bushy ponytail that fell behind her to her elbows. On her ears golden hoops hung, which matched the gleaming precious band which circled her upper arm. Her look was an exotic fusion of the Mediterranean antiquities.

It was quiet, moreso than usual. No merchants tended to their stands, no carts were pulled through the streets. It was essentially a statutory holiday, a much needed day of recovery.

She had taken part in the festivities, but conservatively so. Unlike most (and this included even the priestesses), she hadn't felt any of the Dionysian impulses that had consumed the rest of her people, and so she awoke that morning feeling only the slightest bit of a headache. It was enough to add a hint of confusion to her tumultuous thoughts. She didn't quite understand how she felt about the outcome of the night's ceremony.

She was a goddess now, the idol of her island kingdom. It was foretold that she would bring a new age of prosperity and productivity to the little nation. But how could she possibly do such a thing? She felt no different than before, when she was just a girl whom the priestesses kept hidden away from the rest of the village.

Genera found herself reminiscing to more innocent times, when she and her two best friends would play together. They were inseparable, and she cherished those memories. Back then she hadn't revealed to them that she was something slightly different.

Those who raised her knew that a day would come when she, the child of a mere farming family, would be announced as the goddess foretold in legend. Once puberty had begun to flourish the promise of a goddess became clear, so the priestesses took her in. No longer could she play with Drea and Laene, for the years to follow were spent in preparation for the role she would accept on her eighteenth birthday.

With sorrow she would occasionally glimpse them from afar, and the occasions were so widely dispersed that every time she did so she could see the changes as they grew into beautiful young women. Her childhood affections for them changed too as her sexuality unfolded. She knew years ahead of time that if she truly was Aerotia's goddess, she would have them as her worshippers.

There was Drea. From childhood she still had those rare green eyes, her thick black curls always kept no longer than neck length to compliment her slightly heart shaped face. The rest of her had matured though, filling out gorgeously to become a figure that was blessed even by Aerotian standards. She was the entire package, and Genera didn't think it would be long until they would both be able to share the pleasure of worship.

Laene had always been slightly smaller, a very petite and delicately built girl. She stood a couple inches shorter than Genera and Drea, and was also a good deal smaller in the chest, but her sex appeal was in no way diminished, for after her tiny waist her hips and rear had swollen into a truly magnificent rounded bottom that wiggled sumptuously when she moved, often causing her to be the subject of Genera's fantasy. She was also especially pretty, and her wavy black hair was always tied up into a short ponytail to display the fact.

Now Genera had them back in her life, as had been promised to her for years. That was enough to make her uncertainty worthwhile. The celebrations of that night did not compare to the pleasures those two had given her.

The mere thought was tempting her desire. After sufficiently surveying the squalor that surrounded her temple she decided she'd head back inside, before the midmorning heat set in. Perhaps Laene and Drea would be ready for another session of worship.

In her chambers she saw Drea lying in basically the same position as when Genera awoke. Her black neck length curls were in a disarray, hiding a face of deep sleep. Laene was nowhere to be seen, though... she must have quietly slipped out as Genera was taking in the morning scene.

She crouched over Drea, stroking her cheek softly. The girl barely responded at first, evidently quite exhausted, but slowly she began to awaken.

"Hmm... Genera, my goddess," she murmured as she half opened her eyes. "The morning has come too soon."

Genera got to her knees, smiling gently, patiently. "Yes. It seems for most of the village, this morning will be missed. Do you know where Laene has gone?"

Drea turned to look where Laene had laid, one of the fine velvet couches in Genera's new bed chamber. "She's gone. Perhaps she felt sick this morning and wanted to be alone. She did have a long night..."

"I suppose," Genera said as she got to her feet.

Drea also rose, having quickly regained her alertness. "I was very moderate, on the other hand," she said. "I wanted to be in a fit condition for our first morning of worship."

Genera smiled as Drea, still deliciously garbed in the tiny translucent outfit she'd worn during their first rite, stepped closer. "You certainly are in a wonderful condition," she whispered.