Perversions of the Flesh

Chapter 233: Tales of Orenous’ Chosen (1)

Gelda settled into her room. It was a humble place. Her bed was large, and one of her prized possessions, and set against the centre of the wall, laden with pillows and blankets that provided a ridiculously comfy place to sleep and worship her Goddess. Aside from that, she had a bedside table, a wardrobe made of a nice enough wood, a personal chest for her valuables, and a writing desk with a chair. She had a few of her other outfits hanging on metal rings set into the walls and ceiling. They were meant for other forms of worship, but she didn’t like all the work that went into the acts. A bookshelf by her desk held an assortment of texts from Orenous’ religious order, and a few of her own interests.

Reading had always been an escape for her when life either got boring or too busy. Her superiors had been stern with her for her first few years, but everyone learned to accommodate in the Temple of Love.

Tossing her flattering vestments off into the basket of dirty laundry, she sat in the nude at her desk. The hard wood against her back was cool to the touch, and the seat a comfortable cushion. Taking the quill to her left, she opened the journal she had been using to write.

“Story Unnamed” she read at the top of the first page. It was something she’d been pondering since the Chosen had visited the Temple. It almost felt sacriligious to write what she was planning to, but the thought wouldn’t leave her. Long nights were spent wondering if it was her Goddess urging her to follow her ideas, but no definite response was revealed. No words had been set to paper yet, but tonight was the night she’d start! No more welching on her plans. Do it!

Quill touched paper, and the sound of it scraping across paper whispered into the room.

The nunnery was an old place. Set in the rolling valleys of Thalten, Orenous’ Delight had been built with stone carved and transported south from Korvas itself. Even after centuries, the stones were well cared for, their slate grey standing out against the verdant blanket surrounding them. The roof was a rosy ceramic but had not survived as long as the walls, having been replaced only last summer. The chapel was a fine place, large enough for a congregation that was rarely present, with a beautiful stained glass depiction of the Goddess herself.

Wait, no. Gelda chided herself. Starting with the location and describing details was not the right place to start. Start with the character. Still, she liked the description well enough that she removed the page and set it aside.

Try again.

Orenous’ Chosen stepped off the train carriage, her glistening grey fur reflecting the warm sunlight. Eyes like pools of jade scrutinised her surroundings with a natural intensity. Thalten was a humble city, but she could see its beauty. Orenous’ presence was everywhere, and a city was full of it: the couple walking down the street, hand in hand, eyes full of longing, the barmaid flashing her shapely body, which she took such pride in. Just a glance revealed a people full of love and beauty.

Pawpads soft as a babe’s cheeks touched down on the dirty cobblestones, her claws clicking gently in quiet staccato. Annita Kronforst stretched her luxurious body, feeling her breasts heave and stiff muscles relax under rich brown skin. Unbeknownst to all others, she had a secret hiding under her skirts. Another blessing from the Goddess she only shared with a select few. Besides the skirts, she wore a tight shirt, barely buttoned up the front and no hint of undergarments to be seen. Were she anyone else, the thought would be scandalous, but this was all in worship of her Goddess.

Where were her companions? The intrepid Katlyn Farragher, studious Bren Hedera, mysterious Rosalyn Losenska, and dark Lucia Simourgh? Annita had been called out for this task alone, and with much weeping and longing farewells, had left them behind. Her heart still ached to not have Katlyn’s mighty hand on her shoulder, or Rosalyn’s voluptuous body pressed to her side.

A frustrated huff escaped her luscious lips, sharp teeth peeking through the gap for but a moment, and her long legs set off to the east. A carriage had been offered, but the Chosen had politely declined. Walking kept her figure so beautiful, after all, and she was to be the mortal symbol of beauty.

It was not long before the wooden city walls were behind her, and the scattered homesteads stretched past the horizon, surrounded by fields, farms, and livestock. Stone turned to soft dirt between her pads, and the Chosen’s tail swished happily behind her. She was part wolf, after all. A proud and imperious creature who commanded respect by her presence alone. A beast full of energy and adventure! One that longed to run. Hiking her pack on her back, Annita set off at a brisk trot. Her skirts and tail trailed her like inky ribbons over the planes, so dark she was that she stood out plainly for all to see.

Carriages and the farm folk waved as she passed them, toiling in their fields. How could they not, when someone so gorgeous was passing by? Sweat glistened like morning’s first dew upon Annita’s brow as she waved back. Still, she had stamina to spare. How could she not? After all, she had bedded her companions for hours regularly. This was simply a warmup for the loping lupine.

Her incredible speed brought her over hills and through valleys, leaping streams with a single bound. Small ones, though she might as well have walked over them, she was running so fast.

The sun beamed high in the sky as she caught sight of the fated destination. The abbey, or nunnery, as Mother Superior Rowena had told her, came into view as if unfolding from inside a book. A picturesque view if she ever knew one.

Now she could use that page from before! Gelda pulled the page over and stuck it neatly in place. She’d have to leave some space at the end of the last page, but that wasn’t a big deal. Right? She doubted anyone would see this anyway.

The nunnery was an old place. Set in the rolling valleys of Thalten, Orenous’ Delight had been built with stone carved and transported south from Korvas itself. Even after centuries, the stones were well cared for, their slate grey standing out against the verdant blanket surrounding them. The roof was a rosy ceramic but had not survived as long as the walls, having been replaced only last summer. The chapel was a fine place, large enough for a congregation that was rarely present, with a beautiful stained glass depiction of the Goddess herself.

Now the beginning of the paragraph didn’t make much sense. Ugh! She scribbled out the start of the second sentence. Starting with the name of the nunnery should be fine. And that it was old. The old part came first.

Mother Superior Rowena had said they were worried about the sanctity of the temple ahead, but Annita could not see a reason to be concerned. Women were walking around the grounds, keeping to gardens and flowers, sweeping the stones, and drawing water. Odd that they would not have crystals like the more civilised areas of the world, but it had its own charm.

Nearing the nunnery, she began to suspect the issue. While the women were all breathtakingly beautiful to her lusty eyes, they were hardly dressed as worshippers of Orenous should be. Long flowing robes hid their bodies, with long, wide sleeves. Hoods pulled up tight, and hiding their gorgeous hair. Their faces were plain and unadorned by the simplest of poultices for the skin!

What had happened to leave these women with such shame? They should be openly expressing themselves, giving praise to their Goddess with their bodies’ every motion!

Gelda paused. She realised she was blushing, and felt a tightness in her nethers. Was she going too far? Something told her she wasn’t. If she got too excited, she’d just have to call it a night and pick it back up tomorrow. Her wooden toy would likely be seeing use soon. She picked up on the same paragraph.

The hiding of beauty bestowed by Orenous was blasphemous! Annita simply had to get to the bottom of this.

As she strode confidently down the hillside, her wonderfully fluffy ears picked up the words shared between sisters. They spoke of their tasks, duties, and prayers. None of which involved the love and tenderness Orenous espoused. They seemed to be more akin to the priesthood of Illdall than Orenous.

Gelda grumbled to herself, crossing out Illdall’s name. That was insulting another god, even if it was kind of true. They were a stuck-up bunch over there. Friendly, but not fun.

They seemed to be more akin to Illdall a working commune than Orenous.’s worshipful sanctum.

Approaching this would require delicacy, and the Chosen prayed that word of her glorious reveal had not spread to these grounds. Ducking behind a tree providing blessed shade to weary travellers, she used one of her divine blessings to change the colour of her fur and hair. Tawny brown replaced her grey fur, and a dusty blonde her long wild tresses. The transformation was immaculate, and she always revelled in watching her hair shimmer as the colours changed in the light. Her purple official colours she had chosen for representing Orenous would need to wait for a key moment.

A slight nun with large mounds in her hood noticed the approaching Chosen. Quick whispers totally audible to her perceptive ears said she would be the one to greet the newcomer.

As she approached, hands clasped before her, the picture of a demure priestess. Her wide brown eyes sparkled above her rosy cheeks as the long, thin tail swished her habit behind her. Holy hips flared even as the cloth made a futile attempt to hide the beauty underneath.

“Greetings, wanderer. I am Sister Constance. Welcome to our abbey, Orenous’ House of Chastity. What brings you here on this beauteous morn?”

“Just a woman who’s a bit down on life. Sister Constance, did you say this was Orenous’ House of Chastity? I thought it was Orenous’ Delight. Townsfolk sending me this way told me as much.”

“Oh, those silly people,” Sister Constance tittered, lifting a hand to politely cover delicate lips. “They cling to the old name. Long have we been under the new name, before my time, even.”

Annita raised a perfectly groomed, suspicious eyebrow. With her lighter fur, she still must be an intimidating presence, as the woman trembled slightly under her gaze. Any person would, should she stare with desire, but now was not that time. Using her Goddess-given blessings, Annita soothed the woman’s worries, granting her blessed serenity in the face of such divine beauty.

“What was I saying? Oh, right!” Sister Constance squeaked. “Welcome to the abbey. We welcome all women who seek shelter here. If you are to stay the night, I will need to make one rule clear. Unlike the other Orenous temples, we do not approve of fornication on our grounds. We keep our lives pure for our eternal service in the afterlife, that Orenous may deem us worthy of a place by her side.”

Annita repressed a derisive snort. Orenous would welcome the most open of whores by Her side as well as the purest lovers. So long as they devoted their lives to Her tenets, all walks are welcome in her halls. So the Goddess had told her Chosen personally.

“I understand, Sister Constance. If those are your rules, I will follow them.”

“Wonderful! Come, um, what is your name?”

Annita thought quickly. She could not use her real name, for even this temple may have heard of her proclamation.

“Leila Hagelin, a traveller with nowhere to call home.”

“Leila is a beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful woman. Oh! Apologies for my untoward words,” Sister Constance lowered her head in a meek bow. The lumps under her hood twitched and folded back a bit. Annita realised those were large ears hidden beneath the black. “Come with me, and meet the others.”

The Chosen of Orenous stepped onto her Goddess’ ordained grounds, taking in the rest. Several small groups were moving about, black robes swishing, while a few others had stopped to stare at the newcomer. Annita basked in their attention. She knew she was a tempting sight and would be using that to perform the Mother Superior’s mission. Love was for all, and she was destined to take this abbey, even if they did not know it yet.

“Leila, these are Sisters Bethany, Celeste, and Perpetua. Sisters, this is Leila, a weary traveller seeking shelter within our walls.”

“Oh my! Welcome, Leila. It is still midday, but all women are welcome here,” Celeste’s deep voice boomed. Prodigious height and a thick chest were this beauty’s distinguishing traits. 

She reminded Annita of her love, Katlyn, back in Korvas. She had the stature to compare to the warrior princess. A desire stirred in her loins at the memory, unbidden lust boiling in her heart. Deftly, she adjusted her skirts to hide the turgid tent threatening her secret.

“Good to meet you. I’m not afraid of a little work if it pays for my stay. With arms like yours, though, I doubt you need much in the way of lifting,” the Chosen smirked. It was a miracle that the women’s robes didn’t fall at that very moment.

“Sister Celeste can move the pews all by herself,” the whispy voice of Sister Perpetua said. She was as thin as her tone, and exceedingly short. Without her greenish-brown skin, Ann would not have been able to deduce that the lady was an Inlon. Her ears must have been tucked back inside the hood, is all.

“And you help clean all of the hard-to-reach places,” Sister Bethany smiled sweetly at her diminutive Sister. “Sell not yourself short. I have no special traits to help mine Sisters overmuch.”

Sister Constance made to object, then simply sighed, her pink lips pouting. “You three. Arguing again.”

“Wasn’t arguing. Just, you know, talking about our strengths,” Sister Celeste shrugged. Annita caught a glimpse of her breasts beneath the cloth, and her already growing desire blossomed further.

“Ladies, I put myself at your service,” the Chosen bowed with a showy flourish. “Do with me what you will.”

All the women in the courtyard giggled at her antics.

“Come. We will bring you to the Mother Superior. She will approve of your stay, then we can set you to work. Do you have any skills that might aid us?”

“Well, I don’t think fighting would help you, but I’m good with my hands.” Annita was disappointed when no one caught her innuendo. Katlyn would have died of laughter.

“Very good. You will join me in the kitchens,” Constance cried, clapping her hands excitedly. “There is always more work to do when it comes to feeding people. I am certain you will pick things up quickly.”

Ann followed the woman as she explained the various locations in the temple. They traipsed through gardens flush with colourful wildflowers, small plots of farmland with fruits and vegetables, and the storage area where they would retrieve food later. She struggled to pay attention. The sway of Sister Constance’s hips begged to worship her Goddess, and the thin tail only added to the view. If not tonight, she would pray devoutly with this woman soon, and return her to the proper ways of their Goddess.

“Ah, Mother Superior!” Sister Constance called out. “We have a visitor. This is Leila Hagelin, a traveller seeking respite within our walls.”

The Mother Superior did not match what Annita was used to. Mother Superior Rowena was full of body and overflowing with love to share with all around her. This woman was old and showed that age. Wrinkles in the human’s forehead spoke of many scowls, and the cheeks of many scowls. Sharp yellow eyes raked themselves over her body, cold and judgmental. Like all of the sisters, the Mother wore the black and white habits of their peculiar worship. Her dark skin creased once more as she sniffed.

“Our halls are open to all women,” she intoned in a gravelly voice better suited for orations than conversation. “Sister Constance, you have informed her of the rules?”

“I have,” Sister Constance bowed. Even that motion didn’t reveal much of her body to Annita’s frustration. “She has accepted and offered her services in exchange for her lodging.”

“A traveller, you say? Where do you come from?”

“Lots of places, but I just came from Thalten. Needed to get away from busier areas, and hopped the train down here. I just kind of picked a direction and went that way. When I asked some farmers where I could find a place to stay the night, they pointed me your way.”

“Humble people of the land can be wise,” Mother Superior nodded. Annita noticed the woman hadn’t given her name, and didn’t seem like to do so. “Very well, Leila. Welcome to Orenous’ House of Chastity. Should you find your stay to your liking, and our ways appealing, our worship is always open to further members.”

“Never thought of myself as the religious type, but I’ll check it out,” Ann said with a casual smile back, the heat of her beauty crashing against the Mother Superior’s icy presence. “For now, I’ll need somewhere to put my pack down and then get to work helping Constance in the kitchen.”

“You can place it in my room. We will have a cell prepared for you while we work,” Constance explained. “Mother Superior.” With a mutual bow, the Mother Superior strode off in complete silence.

“Thought I was going to catch a cold. She’s icy!” Ann shivered.

Constance stifled a giggle, her eyes darting to the Mother Superior’s back. “Come, before we get in trouble. My room is this way.”

Gelda let out a long yawn. What time was it? She’d lost herself writing the pages now covered in ink. That ache in her loins was still there, but not as needy. She would share her love with someone tomorrow, slake her lusts in worship with another, rather than alone.

For now, it was time to sleep. She left the book open to dry some more and flopped into her bed. A quick gesture deactivated the light crystals lighting her room, and darkness blanketed her. Sleep came quickly, filled with dreams of the Chosen and her many adventures.