Bestows, grants, blesses, imbues, embodies, swells, fills, impregnates, infatuates, incapacitates, inebriates, consumes, expands, relinquishes control, and in the end, rips the body's ability to resist into shreds.
These were strange streams of consciousness rattling through what was left of Neta's mind. She had grasped the small orb with her bare hands, knowing full well the potential effects it would have on her. She had made her peace. She had already come to terms with the potential of becoming the villain of someone else's story, if it could mean being the hero of her own. This orb was the only solution she saw within her ability to reach it, both morally and physically in this moment. She genuinely wasn't a bad person, and held genuinely no ill-will to anyone besides those persecuting her loved ones with weapons. She had never taken a life, and hopefully if this plan worked, she may never have to take that step.
In that moment though, Neta's mind was not on the persecutions. It was far, far elsewhere. She had spent her past few years of life, only 33 years old now, working on honing her innate magical control. Like athleticism, certain bodies simply hold more talent innately, but anyone can hone a certain level given their natural strengths. Many choose not to do so, and still there are those who are obsessed in an unhealthy way as with fitness too. Neta had been honing her ability to channel magical energy through her physical form, enhancing the capacities already innate in her body, explicitly not adding anything unnatural for her. Not yet. The magic itself, like a fluid or blood itself, must become so well-integrated into her biome that it encounters no resistance.
She had spent months first learning her body, supplementing it with insanely difficult physical routines, as well as direct, emotionally draining therapy surrounding her concept of Self and Worth. She had to love herself in some way first.
These thoughts grounded her, as she grasped the orb in her smallish soft yet strong hands. She had gained the confidence in herself to allow the orb to work its way into her essence. Now in this moment, the challenge was not resisting consumption. She was allowing the orb to consume her body; or at least, allow it to integrate into her system. She needed to resist letting her sense of Self become a sense of Superiority. With this power, she knew it would simply be harder to not lose track of what was most important to maintain.
Neta did, however, also realize that it was going to feel fucking incredible. She wore a skirt for that exact reason; she had a sneaking suspicion that fully legged pants were going to be more cumbersome than helpful. Despite the somewhat comical appearance of the mini-skirt she wore amidst her other adventuring gear, she was alone and so didn't care how it "looked" to anyone else. For that same reason, her naughty side nudged her thoughts before she departed, and she decided not to wear panties of any kind either. What, were the reptilian things in the cave going to care about a sorcerer's pussy? Not in this adventure.
In almost every way, Neta was correct about the orb's effects. And in almost every way, the results exceeded Neta's expectations. The orb was that of an ancient humanoid demigod whose name was long forgotten. Thus worship fell out of favor too. But the god existed as worship of the human and human-like senses. Mind is real and important, but the mind sits in a body which feels and senses it's surroundings in many different ways for different people. All those sensations or lack of sensations and everything in between is sensual, and sensuous.
Neta discovered mention of the orb, the god it represented, and tracked this alongside birth rates and other sexual behaviors of the humanoid races. It turns out that while the god's name has been lost, the powers it carries are still strong. There is simply no concentrated worship of this particular configuration of god-stuff as a single entity. The orb is the closest thing, and Neta had found it.
As she grasped the orb, it's smooth surface was warmer than she expected, as if it had already been held not long ago. But Neta was the only person here, and had been so for several long minutes as she surveyed before approaching the small pedestal on which the orb sat still.
Immediately upon holding the orb firmly, as if forced by some impulse, her hands gripped the apple-sized opaque orb with all ten fingers and her palms flat on the surface. It's deep, almost black green hue was mat, not shiny, and rather plain overall. Yet, once her hands were seemingly stuck to the smooth round surface of the orb, she began to feel the changes taking place.
