Written Wonderland

Gavin hadn't wanted to be rude. He tried to pay attention to the ways the goddess accepted the others after him, but he could barely focus past the sensations of his newly changed body. The cock--his cock--pulsed and throbbed like an alien creature attaching itself to him, and though it gave him a surge of euphoria and excitement, the sudden change baffled and confused all his nerves. His stomach clenched, and the butterflies there were sharp, painful. He wanted to cry, and he didn't understand why he couldn't just be grateful. He was grateful, but everything was so much, too much. Gavin wondered if he had made the right decision in coming. Who was he to receive such a gift when many others craved this and did not receive it? Could he really handle everything the goddess intended to put them through? Did she want him to use his new phallus on her? Was he ready for that? He blushed a deep, deep shade of red all over his body.

In his overwhelm, he realized he hadn't been singing, but when everyone began tapering off, it was too late to join back in. There was a moment of bated breath, and then the goddess bit Chris, and Gavin inhaled sharply, suddenly afraid. Soon, the goddess' dress had disappeared, and black tendrils lashed out in all directions, one of them grabbing Gavin's wrist. Instinctively, he tried to pull out of its grip, but the tendril held fast and pumped his mind full of haze. He found himself aching for a moment alone--just a few minutes to collect himself and sort out all that he was feeling. He did start silently crying, then, wanting desperately to give the goddess what she wanted from him but unsure that he could in his current state. He wanted to thank her, and instead he was belligerent and incapable of words. Hell, he was barely capable of thoughts, sluggish as his mind was.

Soon, though, the tendril retracted, and Gavin could breathe a little more easily again, though tears still rolled down his cheeks.

--

The goddess waited, bringing her other hand to Chris' neck and massaging there as well. Chris certainly made no indications that he intended to leave, and she ventured to briefly meet his eyes, offering a small smile of gratitude. Trevor, she thought, would stay. Evan certainly wasn't going anywhere, not attached to her as he was, nourishing her with a steady stream of longing. She wasn't sure she had a good enough read on the others.

"Dearest goddess, you are good to us. Speaking for myself, I am, indeed, a gift to you, but I know I will appreciate you all the more if I have the opportunity to experience this realm first. I'll explore for now, and if you should ever need me, I am yours." It was Novelty who had spoken. She couldn't fault him for his decision--she had prompted it, after all--but she couldn't stop the ache in her chest as he began moving away from her. She turned and watch Philip hesitate--gratifying in and of itself--before following Novelty. The goddess nodded to herself, accepting the consequences of all she had done. Chloe, too, left with the two of them, and Dehaljadrun whispered a small prayer that the woman would understand what the goddess had shown her of the magic of the realm and play with it.

Evan attempted to move away from the tendril that grasped his leg, and Dehaljadrun's heart felt the tug, nearly ripping whatever patience she had left out from underneath her entirely. Evan was not about to leave her, not now, not after all they had been through. Unconsciously, another tendril lashed out at him, looping around his neck, its spines matching the other's, and she tugged back at Evan, magenta eyes glowing ferociously. Through their connection, she felt Evan's yearning for her--he didn't actually want to leave her--this was just another of their games. Right? She hated that she doubted that. If he wanted to leave, they would need to negotiate that. They had a different agreement.

Still, that show of force probably did not win her any favors with the others, however.

Only now fully realizing that Nathan and Nick had returned from her palace, the goddess watched Nathan step closer, and relief flooded her body. Nick wavered on some kind of invisible threshold, torn. Gavin shifted from foot to foot and choked out, "I'm sorry, Goddess," before he ran off in another direction entirely, circling behind the palace.

Dehaljadrun held herself still except for her motions against Chris' jaw, trying to steel herself in the face of the pain of being left. She tried to soothe herself, knowing there would be time to make amends and get to know each of these volunteers in time. It was good that they were exercising their agency--that meant she could trust it when they did want her. But that didn't make it hurt any less now.

Lance stood rooted in place, watching Evan with a delight and awe the goddess very much appreciated. She thought he would stay, and she was grateful.

After another few breaths, the goddess thought almost everyone had made their choices, except for perhaps Nick. Fine, then. This would do.

Chris still knelt before her, having fallen to his knees during her bite, and the goddess began to explore more of his body, reaching down his back with light, smooth fingers and pressing her body against his. Periodically, she tugged his hair again, keeping him present and invested in this. Soon, she lowered herself to Chris' level, straddling his legs as much as she could. Simultaneously, she tugged at the tendrils attached to Evan, urging him closer. She wanted his touch. And, in general, she wanted contact. Closing her eyes, she deepened the gravity where she was, pulling those within a few feet closer to her and begging them in their minds--please.

((OOC: We are thinking that Nick would not hear anything or feel the gravity.))

Please, more.

The words not even conscious in his mind, but the sentiment plain in Chris' body, and the goddess absolutely obliged. Her own fingers grasped a fuller section of his hair, tugging with more conviction, and a full-bodied shiver shuddered through Chris, a moan falling from his lips as the goddess' body undulated against his. His shoulder grew warm, her fingers massaging him there, and he knew then that he was fully hers.

Welcome, she said in his mind, in all of their mind's--he felt the ways her thoughs rippled out, a curiosity peeking up that he might be able to follow those ripples, if he wanted. He wasn't sure that he did, though--not right now, anyway. He just wanted to feel the goddess move against him, her skin beneath his fingers, her grip in his hair. Tears began to well in his eyes, serene and grateful--somehow, she'd already parted open what had felt to him like an impenetrable wall. He'd tried to scale it with others, but it was just too much. There was something world-shattering about seeing it as a curtain, instead, the goddess' gesture to get inside easy and graceful.

Well, she is a goddess, of course. The thought arose softly, matter-of-fact, but it sobered him a little. Maybe, too, something else was drifting--the goddess' fingers loosening, her body falling out of sync with his. Chris blinked his eyes open in simple curiosity, though they sharpened in something like annoyance when he realized that her attention was being drawn toward Rutliff. Even more so, when he felt a sudden swell of pressure between his body and the goddess'--and a realization about her anatomy dawned on him, alongside a grim, irritated certainty that her pulse of arousal was entirely about Rutliff, yet pushing against Chris.

He almost gathered the presence of mind to push the goddess away, but at the last moment she yanked on his hair, sudden and rough and vicious, and yet staggeringly disarming. Chris stumbled briefly, almost losing his footing as a heaviness rippled through him, and then the goddess' teeth sank into his shoulder and he let out a cry, but melted. Fear did pulse in his chest, yes, and alarm ricocheted through his nerves, but there was something freeing here that he couldn't help beholding with awe. He began to sob, some kind of floodgates breaking open, and he clung to her, his attention settling into the pulsing flow of pain and sorrow and gratitude that reverberated through him from her fingers and teeth and undulating body against him.

He did feel wrung out by the time her teeth drew back from him, his breath heavy as his sobs began to reel themselves in and his head swirling, his body weak and tired. Fear and confusion slowly began to work their way back into his consciousness, also, though the way that the goddess gently massaged his shoulder soothed him, even as it kept the ache of tenderness there at the front of his awareness.

"You're free," she said softly, inflating Chris' confusion. He looked at her with puzzlement in his furrowed brow, but she did not meet his eyes, and worry began to sink into his chest.

"You're free," she repeated, louder this time, for all present to hear. Chris blearily looked around, re-grounding himself in the clearing, other volunteers looking their own versions of disoriented in the wake of some stirring experience.

"You have your agency and may come and go as you please," the goddess continued. "Few beings of the realm come to my palace grounds without permission, so you may reside in relative safety here. Beyond that, you'll be on your own."

Chris tried, briefly, to imagine wandering away to roam and explore--something that might well have appealed to him greatly in different circumstances--but he could scarcely imagine standing on his own two feet right now, let alone venturing away. And, why would he even want to? The goddess closed her eyes, and a gentle cascade of sensations settled over Chris' hips, sending rippling shudders through him again, full of more heat now as the sensations caressed at his length, patiently coaxing it to attention. Chris' own eyes fell shut as he sank into the sensation. He felt the goddess' fingers press gently into the corner of his jaw, then, and he melted again, leaning into her and thrusting gently into the sensations across his hips, a soft moan humming from his lips.

"And if you stay in my proximity," he heard the goddess say, "I will avail myself of you." Distantly, he understood with some trepidation that this might mean even more unknowns, even more intensity if he did not leave now, and a fresh pulse of fear did bloom within him, but in the end it was a pleasant suffusion of aliveness, an awareness of blood pumping through his body and his nerves lighting up. No, he did not want to leave. The goddess brought her other hand to massage his neck, and the last of Chris' contemplation melted away, attention relaxing fully into the pleasure of her closeness and massage and the gentle suckles that glittered across his hips and backside and the length of him.

One of the other volunteers spoke, and Chris let the words roll through his awareness as a light, sweet, lovingly melancholic song. Chris hummed softly in response, just a few quiet notes that felt in harmony with the sentiment that had flowed through him. But then, something shifted, and Chris let out a yelp as fear spiked in him again. The goddess suddenly felt sharp, and unrest rippled through the soundscape. It calmed shortly, though, and Chris sighed softly with relief, grateful that the goddess' massage was still present, her sharpness receding.

He didn't understand what had happened, but he was at peace with not needing to. He just wanted to feel. Please, the goddess beckoned, her hands tugging at his hair and exploring more of him, and he grew bolder in exploring her, his hands caressing the curves of her back and her hips, his lips finding their way to her skin, his hips still blissfully rolling with the sensations that caressed them.

---

No sooner had the curse fallen from Evan's lips than another tendril lashed out at him, ensnaring his neck with the same sharp barbs as the other on his leg. His whole body went rigid with pain and terror, his eyes sharp and seething as he met the goddess' gaze, her own eyes ferocious with rage. Horrifyingly, he couldn't fucking stop his lips from curling into a smirk, even as his heartbeat pounded and jumped, the alarm in his body almost dizzying.

Flashes cut into his awareness of the goddess' dagger at his neck that second night, and for just a split second, genuine panic did grip at his chest and steal his breath from his lungs. What would happen if he fucked up and pissed her off like that again? She promised to punish you herself, some ever-so-helpful voice offered in his mind, serving up the memory of being bound and shocked after their re-negotiation on the third night.

He groaned deeply, terror still ricocheting through him but the panic releasing his lungs. She might put him through the fucking wringer tonight, but surely, surely they had earned solid footing with each other. In any case, the tendrils pulled him toward her, and the spikes on his neck didn't give him much of a fucking choice but to move that direction, much of his attention yanked into the places where the pressure from those spikes genuinely threatened to puncture skin, and the ways he needed to carefully move his body to limit that possibility as he approached the goddess before him. But what he could do though, was relish the anticipation in his gut of making contact with her, his teeth and nails lusting ravenously to sink into her skin the instant they had the opportunity.

Please don't leave me.

I could say the same to you.

What a hell of a thing to leave him with.

Here Trevor thought he knew exactly what the goddess would want from him--from all of them--but being here this time was proving to be entirely different. He wasn't mindless the way he had been the first time, even if there were moments after crossing the portal when he had teetered that direction. But, it was clear, the goddess wanted him lucid. She had even prevented him from--what, dying? Never waking up? Being hers mindlessly for all of eternity? Trevor wasn't even sure what he had been spared, and that made it difficult to feel grateful.

The others were singing, and Trevor knew the song, but he couldn't get his voice to give sound to the words. He stayed on the ground, running his fingers over the ropes he did still have on, their presence comforting amidst all his uncertainty.

Trevor looked up again when the song began to fade, noticing the goddess' attention on Chris. Soon, she bit his shoulder, and Trevor felt it as a jealous ache in his stomach. Not long afterward, however, a black tendril shot out at him, claiming a wrist. Trevor flexed and twisted against it, but his instinctive attempts to pull away were half-hearted, especially after the tendril started pulling on him.

He started to feel lightheaded again and thought he might need to lie down once more, but he managed to stay upright. Trevor felt another ache in his chest for the goddess' touch, calling to mind the recent moment he had caressed her cheek. It had been such an impulsive thing to do--he hadn't given it proper thought--and the goddess had pulled away from him afterward, onto the other volunteers. Was he only a burden to her, something she had to be gentle with? The thought terrified Trevor and gave him some resolution. He could be strong enough to give her what she needed, at least for tonight. Perhaps he would let tomorrow be another matter.

Closing his eyes, he allowed for the tendril to suck out his longing, his ache, as they amplified and made plain his sexual urges. He liked looking at Evan--Trevor had a nice view of the man and his arousal from where he sat on the ground--and Lance's open interest in Evan made Trevor curious about Lance as well. He wasn't sure about the others just yet, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was giving his desires to the goddess--she was calling for them, and he would obey her.

--

Dehaljadrun felt a pang in her chest as she wondered about Gavin, but she needed to trust that he and each of the others would each take care of themselves. Perhaps the man just needed some time. There was no reason to believe she had done anything wrong--not just yet. And if she had, repair could wait.

Setting that aside, the goddess became intent on Chris again, squeezing her thighs around his and thoroughly enjoying the rhythmic movements of his hips. His hardening length and hers--erect for a long while now--shared proximity and contact through her dress, and the goddess kissed Chris' face, his neck, hands pulling periodically at his hair just enough to make him wince and move his hips a little more erratically. Dehaljadrun had the impression that Evan was drawing nearer, her tendrils pulling him to her even as he groaned. She was amused at his awkward dance of attempting to move just fast enough to stay ahead of the way that the spines would dig into his skin but slow enough to claim he was resisting. He certainly did know how to please her--riding that line. The goddess smiled into Chris' skin and bit his other shoulder, more playfully this time, kissing and licking and biting in succession.

The gravity she held over the volunteers within a six-foot radius of her also pulled the goddess' own field of awareness in with it, shrinking inward. She didn't not want to be aware of anything other than who wanted to be right here with her in this moment. Chris, Evan, Trevor, Lance, and a little more distantly, Nathan, returned from his journey to the palace.

Then, all at once, Evan made contact, unleashing a fury of nails and teeth as he reached around her to the underside of one breast, dragging his fingers deeply across the soft flesh, his teeth making contact with the top of her left shoulder, kneeling with her and Chris now. The goddess winced and threw back her head, tugging Chris' hair harder than before in the process as she sought Evan's skin with her head, practically nuzzling into him and rewarded with a delightful immersion into the way he smelled--musky with sweat and the mildly acrid scent of having waited so long for pleasure--already a nostalgic balm to the goddess.

He was here. He was hers, for at least one more night.

Squeezing Chris' thighs with her own again, the goddess kept one hand pulsing a tug in Chris' hair and reached the other to wrap around the front of Evan's neck, digging her own fingernails into the flesh just above her tendril at the back of his neck. She pulled both of the tendrils subtly tighter and increased their suction--their movement now as much physical as they were metaphysical. They would likely leave large bruises on Evan later, much to the goddess' delight.

Her fingernails satisfied for the moment, she let her hand travel down toward his cock, clothed as it was in the softly scaled leggings she had made him. Dehaljadrun enjoyed calling up Evan's memories of walking through the camp in that attire, his pride stroking her own. In time with the squeeze of her thighs and the tug of Chris' hair, the goddess ran her hand over Evan's length, cupping, squeezing, and gliding over the smooth fabric at every whim.

It was only then that the goddess noticed Trevor had crawled over to join them, managing to lie on the ground on the left side of the goddess and Chris, his body curving around them both and gently caressing the places where he made contact with a hand on Chris' thigh and another on the small of the goddess' back, with his feet curling behind the goddess toward Evan. The goddess flexed her left leg outward toward him as she moved against Chris, enjoying the places where her leg rubbed up against his rope harness--it was a good gift. But it wasn't enough contact for her. Withdrawing her field of consciousness from anywhere other than her own body, she plunged it into Trevor's mind, lighting up his pleasure nerves and encouraging them to radiate out toward the rest of them, his body instantly responding with trembles and jolts of pleasure as his eyes rolled potently back into his head.

Welcome.

Lance's skin was already dancing with tingles in the silent wake after singing. He felt heady and blissful as he watched the goddess greet the one who had started the song, and then a delightful shiver passed through him as her voice caressed his mind once more. And then, a flare of anticipation--what now? Chris had been the final volunteer for her to greet. Now, they stepped into the next great unknown. Lance almost had a mind to step forward, hips half-dancing in a sway, arms spread in invitation and offering. He certainly did want to touch her, to feel her touch. He might have done it, too, had her gaze not landed so firmly on Evan, stilling Lance with a bit of calculation--just what was Evan's relationship with her at this point? Obviously, she'd given him a warm welcome... would her attention be fixed on him for the night, though?

But, no, she still held fast to Chris, tightening her grip in his hair. Lance's own scalp danced with sympathetic tingles, even as the soldier cried out. Oh, some brief jolt of alarm did spike through his chest, but the sensation was pleasant, warming and pooling as the goddess bit down on Chris' shoulder. Lance's tongue traced between his teeth, his jaw flexing softly against it. His calculations had drifted away as quickly as they'd come, his mind drunk in the goddess' presence.

Yet more tingles danced over Lance's body as something curled around his ankle. He blinked down at the black tendril that began to suck at him, surprised and confused and intrigued, though those emotions melted quickly into melancholy, loneliness, longing. Lance shivered a little less pleasantly, arms wrapping around himself as some kind of despair threatened to grip at him. Had he already pissed her off somehow? Well, if he had, it wasn't just him--he had just enough presence of mind to see that everyone else had a tendril of their own, and took some small solace in that. Perhaps the goddess simply wanted them to long for her, to watch her with Chris in her arms and wish for her to hold them instead.

Fine, then; in Lance's drunken, tingly haze, he was surprisingly inclined to oblige her in this. In an echo of that sensation of allowing himself to fall arms-spread into water, Lance freely offered up his desire for her fingers in his hair, his lips on her breasts, their hips in motion with each other's. And he offered her memories that spilled forth--longing for attention, for esteem, for having his contributions valued; moments of isolation, reprimand, dismissal. Of wondering why the sky goddess seemed to so disapprove of him, according to his elders; of deciding he didn't need her, then--didn't need to care what she thought of him--and seeking his own pleasure regardless of whether she would approve. And he offered the understanding he'd desperately tried to hide from himself all this time--that no matter how much he'd needed to give himself that freedom, that it had still been a terribly lonely way to live.

The tendril withdrew, and Lance came back into the present moment to find himself having fallen to his knees, his cheeks wet with tears, the echo of his own primal croon ringing softly in his mind. He felt dizzy for a moment, disoriented and raw. Cringe poured in--had he opened himself too much? Over-shared and flubbed something in the process?

"You're free," came a whisper, a gentle soothing balm to Lance's ears as he raised his eyes to the goddess before him, and relief settled into him as he remembered her welcome not so long ago. His primal croon had echoed just as strongly then, and Lance understood that on some level, the goddess had already known, and welcomed him.

"You're free," she stated more loudly, and Lance finally realized that she was addressing all of them, each and every person there recovering from their own experience with her tendrils. "You have your agency and may come and go as you please. Few beings of the realm come to my palace grounds without permission, so you may reside in relative safety here. Beyond that, you'll be on your own."

Oof, those final words landed sharp in Lance's chest, and he rubbed himself there, though he did finally make his way to his feet, regathering some semblance of sobriety about him. But then a gentle cloud of sensation began to form around his hips, something like cloth but with a gentle clinging suction, like a million tiny lips pressed against his skin. It was a bit of a whip-lash of a sensation, to go from feeling cast out to embraced to cast out to embraced yet again, but he realized that this time was rather his own doing; she had been giving them genuine data, not a controlling threat. Lance returned both hands to his sides and shook out his fingers, trying to get the last shards of his initial reaction to exit his body. As he did, he closed his eyes and let the sensations of the cloth around his hips take up his awareness, a soft pleasant hum sounding from his throat and helping the pleasure to warm and relax his body.

"And if you stay in my proximity," the goddess added, "I will avail myself of you." Lance shivered pleasantly at that, excitement pulsing through him and his body swaying in an undeniable, yes, please. On some level he appreciated the freedom she had offered, but he couldn't pretend for even a moment that he wanted to leave her presence. No, if anything, a fresh hunger for her touch was flaring again of its own accord in his belly.

Lance's gaze finally drifted to Evan, somehow only just clocking that the captain still had one of the goddess' tendrils wrapped around his ankle. Lance's eyebrows rose a little, his eyes growing wide with a tangle of emotions as he watched Evan sway subtly forward with longing, only to tense with stubborn determination, nails raking over his chest. Lance knew that Evan had a certain sort of tenacity, but it was another thing entirely to see it so plainly on display. It was like a beautiful painting, one that Lance could lose himself staring at for hours.

"Dearest goddess, you are good to us." Novelty spoke up. Lance glanced his direction, but couldn't tear his eyes from Evan for long. "Speaking for myself, I am, indeed, a gift to you, but I know I will appreciate you all the more if I have the opportunity to experience this realm first. I'll explore for now, and if you should ever need me, I am yours."

Lance watched with a subtly curling smirk as uncomprehension rattled Evan's expression, though his own surprise and uncomprehension flared when Evan finally tore his own gaze away from the goddess, his muscles shifting as though preparing to move away from her. Fucking how--?

A second tendril lashed out around Evan's neck, sending a sympathetic jolt of alarm through Lance's chest. Evan's eyes returned to the goddess with a ferocious seething, even as a shit-eating grin began to curl into his expression. Lance couldn't help thinking of the way that Evan had warned him not two days prior - She answers shit-eating grins tenfold, and thanks to my smart mouth I might well be dead if I wasn’t of value to her. But, sane or not, Lance didn't feel afraid for Evan, not truly. Maybe he had faith in whatever value Evan referenced, but more than that, he felt in his bones that Evan knew exactly what he was getting himself into, and excitement shuddered through Lance at the thought. Evan was putting on quite a show at this point, and Lance would bet good money that he knew full well that he was.

The tendrils pulled Evan closer, and Lance felt some kind of gravity pull at him, too, a whisper in his mind beckoning--Please. Lance's heart metled, and he did indeed take a step closer, though he paused in another pleasant shudder as his foot made contact with new blades of grass, freshly sensitized by his own movement. He caressed his hands over himself, criss-cross over his torso and shoulders and arms, his hips swaying to invite more of the cloth's sensations into his awareness. He hummed with pleasure, his fingers dancing contemplatively over his hips, before growing bold enough to simply reach below the cloth and stroke his own length. He moaned gleefully, refocusing his gaze on the now tangle of bodies before him--Chris and Evan and the goddess all grappled in pleasure together, Trevor coiled around them to make contact with each. Another magnificent painting. Did Lance want to just stand where he was and take in the sight? It was tempting, but so were other options, and indecision held Lance still for a moment, though the cloth carried on with its pleasant sucking everywhere that it touched.

Then, Lance's attention was beckoned to the other approaching soldier, Nathan. The soldier's big, dark eyes clocked Lance's hands with delectable admiration, and Lance wondered if he himself was making for a decent painting in this moment. He cocked a smile to Nathan, and the soldier's eyes darted back to the goddess and the men surrounding her, but Lance held tight to some confidence that bashfulness had affected the soldier, whatever other allures also played in. Cute. Nathan continued ambling toward the goddess, but slowly, his gaze shyly blinking at Lance intermittently between steps, and at last the balance was tipped. With a soft, shuddering sigh, Lance released his length back into the caress of the cloth around his hips, and he followed after Nathan, curious how they would all ultimately interact.

Trevor's mind was a scattered chaos of sensation as the goddess stimulated and devoured the responses of his pleasure centers, using him to fuel the more physical actions with the others: tugging on Chris' hair, sliding her exploring fingers over Evan's cock, pulling the tendrils around Evan's neck and ankle tighter, tighter.

Having pulled her field of awareness away from Chris to plunge into Trevor, the goddess felt a pang of loneliness and maybe even a spike of fear echo distantly from where her hand held Chris' hair--small blooming clouds of purple and red. Had he noticed her field of awareness? Most humans did not. Or, if they did, she was never certain they knew what it was they were experiencing. Perhaps Evan could tell now, having had her fully inside his body multiple times, but someone who had only just made contact with her?

Out of pleasure and curiosity, the goddess withdrew her awareness from Trevor, letting him continue trembling against her thigh, and widened her awareness to include Chris once more. A cloud of white relief erupted, the emotion settled potently in Chris' chest. She withdrew from him again, and there were bigger clouds of purple and red, frantic now. Oh, this was a delightful game. She might have continued playing with that, mingling the metaphysical sensations with the physical ones--finding the harmonious chords of each--except that there was a gentle pressure as Nathan laid his head on Dehaljadrun's calf, his body positioned parallel to the rest of her leg.

Warmth pooled in her chest at the contact, and she shared it with everyone around her. And, soon after, Lance stepped behind the goddess and began exploring the dense black waves of her hair. At first, the goddess recoiled, unaccustomed to having someone behind her, especially not standing taller than she was at present, kneeling. Anxious black spikes drilled through her core, though she tried not to send them outward. Into the ground, the goddess told herself.

Expanding her awareness to include Chris, Lance, Trevor, Evan, and Nathan once more, the goddess felt Lance enjoying the tactile sensations of having his fingers in her hair. And, indeed, they began to have a mind of their own, reaching for Lance and curling around his hands like miniature versions of the tendrils she had sent to each of the volunteers. That more potently brought to Lance's mind--and by extension, to goddess'--the surrender Lance had discovered in the hungry pull toward loneliness, the worship he had offered her in sinking into exactly the sensations she wanted him to feel and share.

Delighted, the goddess moaned, leaning back against Lance, careful not to put weight on Nathan's head. She released and tugged again at Chris' hair, sending sympathetic pleasure to Chris from Lance through her. She squeezed Evan's cock tightly and then moved her hand up along his stomach, chest, and neck--over her tightened tendril--to grace his jaw, beginning to lean forward as though she might make contact with his lips.

Then Lance pulled the goddess' hair, and she moaned into a roar, a mix of anxiety, fear, and jealousy flooding through everyone before she could close off the connection. In one brutal, swift motion, the goddess tucked her toes under, twisted, and launched herself at Lance, easily knocking him to the ground, leaving her dress and the tendrils around Evan to dissipate in the wake of her movement leaving her nude. Once they landed, she gripped Lance's hair mercilessly and bit hard on his shoulder, then his upper arm, her other hand's fingernails seeking his hip and digging in hungrily. Her cock was poised between Lance's legs, which she had wrapped and pinned under her own.

Between bites along Lance's shoulders and arms, the goddess said, "Who. Do you think. You are." But the goddess could not deny that she was enjoying this, thoroughly, and she had enough wherewithal to share her delight and amusement with the rest of them, a dizzy, heavy pleasure continuing to stoke each of their whims.

It genuinely surprised Lance when he slid his fingers into the goddess' hair. It seemed in some ways an odd way to participate in this tangle of bodies that had formed, and yet it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. He enjoyed the texture of it, the movement and flow. Lance found himself beginning to dance subtly between the sensations of the cloth around his hips and his fingers in the goddess' hair, listening to breaths and moans and groans and whimpers of the others around him. It was music he had never heard before, this chorus of carnal expression--or, then again, maybe it wasn't so different from the ceremonial croons of his past, the primordial songs of some ineffable beauty and strength.

Lance was in awe of it all, and he shivered in delight as the goddess' hair seemed to grow a mind of its own, coiling around Lance's wrist much like the tendril had his ankle before. Some fear bloomed, bracing for confusion and intensity should he have to navigate the same draining loneliness here in this tangle of moaning sensation--but instead it just pulled him back into the sensation of falling serenely into water, his fear melting along the way. The goddess leaned back against him, her body warm and filling him with delight as he continued to sway in his subtle dance, gleeful to now invite another body into the micro movements of his legs and hips that played with the moans around them, harmonizing with the rhythm of his fingers moving in the goddess' hair.

Lance was too lost in the experience of it all to possibly say what inspired it--some swell of excitement, maybe?--but there came a moment when his fingers closed tight in the goddess' hair and tugged. She moaned, but the sound rapidly built to a roar, dragging a searing hot terror up Lance's body. In an instant, he was knocked down against the ground, the caress of the grass on his skin muted beneath the impact echoing through him. Startle exclaimed itself from his throat, confused and caught off-guard by what was happening, but then the goddess dragged the sound into a frightened cry as she tugged harshly at his hair, teeth and nails biting into his skin. Instinctively, he tried to fight her off, but the weight of her held him down in more places than he could escape even without the flurry of sensations and confusion and terror that disoriented his awareness. Was he already being ripped apart?

"Who. Do you think. You are." The words bit into him as her teeth moved across his body, his shoulder, his arm, jolting him and tearing him open. He was scared--absolutely terrified--but he found himself thinking of Evan's shit-eating grin with that second tendril around his neck, strangely comforted by the memory. Surely, Lance hadn't somehow earned himself a death sentence just yet. Still, the goddess' nails and teeth and yanks at his scalp pulled him taught enough he wasn't sure he had a grin in him, but what he did have was that serene falling sensation, and he gave himself over to it yet again. He still cried out at each fresh bite, each merciless yank of hair, each sharp stinging press of nails into skin, but he gave himself over to some kind of faith that even this dizzying experience was exactly how she wanted him to feel for whatever divine purpose lay ahead, and at last, an answer bubbled out of him in a delirious, rapturous cry.

"Delight!"

As the goddess sunk her teeth deeply into one side of Lance's chest, she saw in her mind's eye Evan's mischievous grin of all things, which only served to motivate her further, her teeth getting a better grip as the nails of one hand dug into Lance's shoulder and the other pulled at Lance's hair.

Within her body or perhaps Lance's body, the goddess felt a falling as though they both trusted there would be a warm pool of water beneath them, and the goddess' giddiness radiated once more in a pulsing wave through those around her. Lance cried out beneath her but still opened to her, relaxing into the sensation and worshipping her with an open trust she hardly felt she had quite earned yet.

Faith, perhaps, then. Faith that there was a point to all this.

And was there?

Lance cried out an answer to her question, "Delight!" The word caused a bubbling laugh of joy to erupt out of the goddess as her teeth released, her hands growing softer around Lance's shoulder and hair.

Acting purely out of impulse, the goddess' movements shifted abruptly toward affection, her lips pressing a flurry of happiness into Lance's throat as her thumb rubbed the side of his head. What a marvel of a person who had volunteered to join her. Did similar mysteries await her in each of the volunteers?

She was giddy, uncontrollably so, and her tongue traced the edge of Lance's jaw in between kisses up toward his ear, a pleasant, low giggle in her throat.

"And so you are," the goddess said with a warm smile before she grabbed a fistful of Lance's hair, leveraged an arm under his back, and shifted her legs to partially lift and rotate Lance so he landed smoothly alongside Evan and Nathan. Dehaljadrun stayed on her knees above him, the black waves of her hair cascading over her left shoulder as she looked down at Lance, smiling smugly with a tilt of her head, one eyebrow raised as though to communicate, you have no idea what else I could do to you.

The goddess straddled Lance's legs, pulling them close together with her thighs. She pressed her weight into the cloth around Lance's hips, humming lightly as she squeezed her inner muscles around the shape of Lance's length. Yes, she much preferred Lance on the ground on his back to standing over her, delight or no.

Trevor returned to her leg, stroking his hand down her thigh. Chris was pulling at his own hair in the goddess' absence, bringing a pleasant smirk to the goddess' lips. Evan had bit Nathan, who had curled up against him. The goddess stroked Evan's jaw, squeezing Lance again as she did so.

Evan utterly fell into the moment he sank down to his knees next to the goddess, his nails and teeth digging into her in a ravenous flurry as he pressed his body against hers. He wanted to disappear into the touch between their skin, to relinquish the great, heavy, agonizing melancholy in his chest and just simply celebrate being here in her presence, but the damned tendrils kept sucking and pricking and stoking that great, sorrowful maw within him, leaving him continually ravenous for her touch, viscerally terrified that at any moment he might lose it.

Her hand reached for his throat, sending a cascade of shivers down his spine as her nails dug into his skin above the tendril, offering a brightness to the sensation as a fresh wave of alarm hit his body. There was no fresh danger he believed he was in, but the tentacles were beginning to suck ever more fervently at his skin, and it was starting to feel difficult to breathe. He felt dizzy, still indescribably ravenous, and like he stood tenuously on the edge of a cliff--the goddess' fingers on his throat the only thing keeping him from falling.

He gasped and clung to her when her hand released him, desperately scared for a split second and then freshly digging nails and teeth into her with an air of angry frustration. Soon enough, though, her hand traveled down to his cock and he groaned deeply at the contact, his hips rolling eagerly into her touch and his own attentions to her skin growing more pliant, as if silently begging her motions not to stop. He sank into the feel of the fabric against him, the delectable knowing that it had been with him all day, holding him on display for all to see. Everyone knew, surely without a shadow of a doubt after today: he was hers.

Something in him squirmed with an impulse to pull away, as if it would prove something important, but he was too desperate to keep her touch, and all he managed was a fresh bite into her skin and a heightened note of frustration in his groan. Panic settled into his chest in the wake of the gesture, though, as he felt the goddess pull away--not literally, thank fuck, but somehow she felt more distant. More aware of the other volunteers, maybe. On some level Evan knew that was all well and good, but the tendrils just kept tightening, sucking harder, pricking into his skin, excavating every buried worry in his core that he had somehow fucked up, that he wasn't good enough, that he would inevitably be cast aside for someone better. Someone who wouldn't squirm with a petty sense like he had something to prove, maybe.

Warmth pooled into his chest after a moment, though, and with it some amount of reassurance that the goddess would not simply discard him. They had been through too much. Her hand squeezed his cock and Evan shuddered, a small choked sob escaping his lips near her skin. Her fingers trailed up his stomach, and he relished the touch, feeling her attention settling back onto him with indescribable relief. She touched his chest, his neck, his jaw, melting him as he felt the invitation blooming to lean in for a kiss. Gods, yes.

But then before their lips could make contact, the goddess erupted from a moan into a vicious roar, sending barbs and sparks of fear and jealousy eating into Evan as she turned away from him, leaving contact with him entirely. He fell onto his hands with a loud curse trying to cover a sob, a loud groan scraping out in its wake as his fingers curled into the grass beneath him. He regathered himself with a deep, spacious breath, though, coming back into a feeling of steadiness with the ground beneath him as he realized that the tendrils had finally relented, leaving him to catch his breath and find solace in the grass and the fabric of his pants and the memories of her hands on his skin.

"Who. Do you think. You are."

The goddess chided one of the other volunteers, who cried out in terror even as a warm delight seemed to radiate from the goddess; surely, whatever was happening, the goddess was not truly angry, but enjoying the excuse to act so. Evan let out a wry sort of laugh, maybe expelling some of what had been terror and devastation in relief with that warm delight. He felt another volunteer nuzzle into him, then, sparking an utterly visceral impulse in Evan to wrap his arms tightly around the soldier, sitting back on his knees as he held the boy firmly against him, teeth sinking into his shoulder. Nathan cried out, but melted quickly into the sensation, and Evan groaned with satisfaction as he gnawed at the soldier's muscle, feeling him nuzzle even closer to Evan in every tiny way that he could.

"Delight!" Lance's voice cried out, and Evan growled against Nathan's skin in what might have been laughter as he continued his indulgent gnawing. Of course it was Lance on the other end of a playful fury. And what an absolutely absurd, utterly perfect reply.

"And so you are," the goddess replied, and Evan smiled widely, warmth suffusing him. He was happy for Lance, happy for the goddess, happy to be holding Nathan--a pliant, beckoning partner in his arms. What a strange delight all of this was. He managed to open his eyes at last and catch a glimpse of the goddess on top of Lance, maneuvering the braggart with ease to pivot him to lay beside Evan. She kept her attention on Lance, but Evan's skin tingled with hot anticipation, relishing her returning proximity. To whatever extent he hungered to close the gap, he stubbornly sank his attention into Nathan instead, biting down harder to make the boy whimper and then easing up, feeling the relief send shudders through the boy's body.

Then, delightfully, the goddess' hand stroked down Evan's jaw, and he moaned against Nathan's skin, his own body shuddering with relief. There was a brief flash of a temptation to cast Nathan aside and embrace the goddess, all but demanding the kiss that, apparently, Lance had somehow thwarted. But, no, he didn't want tonight to be an endless torrent of vying for the goddess' attention. They were all here with her, and with each other. The boy had come to Evan, had nuzzled himself against every nook of Evan's body he could access, had melted and shuddered with the gnawing waves of Evan's bites. Offering all that the attention truly deserved, Evan was honored and delighted, warmth and pride splashing through him as he recognized that Nathan was nuzzling his muscles with adoration, basking in the primal energy of his bites. Perhaps he'd initially approached Evan in the absence the goddess had left, but that had also been how Evan had received him. Were they not both, now, truly appreciating each other, even with the goddess so nearby?

Well, even so, Evan also certainly couldn't bring himself to ignore the goddess. His hand settled firmly against Nathan's backside, offering the volunteer a little extra steadiness as Evan released his bite, panting for a moment with pleasure by Nathan's ear as he turned his eyes to the goddess, a perhaps conspiratorial glint in his eye. Nathan sighed and moaned, shivering in the wake of those sensations and nuzzling his face into Evan's shoulder, rocking his hips subtly in Evan's grip. He flicked his gaze briefly down to Lance, too--soaking in the sight of the braggart's brow drawn together in pleasure, eyes closed as his scratched and bitten body shuddered beneath the goddess, undoubtedly tantalized by the pressure he felt where the weight of her hips rested over the cloth covering his groin. Evan smirked, rather pleased with the sight.

Trevor was also nearby, lying on the other side of her and stroking a hand down her leg. Somewhere, it occurred to Evan to wonder where Chris was, but his attention was nearing capacity, and he yearned to bring the goddess further into it. He returned his gaze to her with a fresh heaviness, neck outstretched and head lowered in a subtle plead. He leaned forward slowly on his knees, muscles engaging to bring Nathan steadily with him as, full of cautious hope, he aimed to close the distance between his and the goddess' lips.

Evan's panting, ravenous breaths as he lifted his head from biting Nathan thrilled Dehaljadrun. The goddess and Evan were freely availing themselves of a feast, and that knowledge sent a wave of pride and pleasure flooding through her body in an undulating movement over Lance's hips.

Grasping Nathan's backside as though to anchor the boy, Evan leaned in toward Dehaljadrun, bringing his lips closer to hers. After having been interrupted by Lance's over-eager hands, there was little the goddess wanted more, and yet, she relished the thick cloud of Evan's desire for her--and for the boy curled around him as Nathan sought as much skin contact as possible. She hovered near Evan's lips, breathing heavily as she slid across Lance's length, nibbling Evan's lip but then pulling a few centimeters away and repeating the process.

She wanted to hear him groan. She wanted to hear him beg. She wanted him to want her so badly he took it out on someone else again and again and again.

Even through her pleasure and anticipation, through her playful torture, there was something else calling her attention. Chris.

The goddess was losing him. She could practically see the thoughts swirling in his mind even as he pulled at his own hair. His eyes were full of doubt and savage jealousy. He wanted to be in the center of everything again, and the goddess could not separate out Chris' desires from her own. They were the same.

Her fingers longed for his hair, for the way he eagerly accepted her awareness within him, perhaps even recognizing it for what it was. But, he felt so far away, out of reach.

She pulled herself from Evan more fully, trusting that he at least could manage his exasperation a while longer. Hell, he might even take it out in an enjoyable direction.

Even as she still moved her hips slowly over Lance's length, the goddess looked at Chris and spoke his name directly into his mind, sweet and caressing, calling him back to her. She opened her own memories to him, allowing him to see just how much she enjoyed and already again craved having his thick curls between her fingers.

You know when my awareness is close. You feel my presence, even when I'm not touching you, even when I'm not speaking in your mind. She paused for a moment but then added, It's rare, you know.

With a flick of her wrist, the goddess sent a quick flurry of sparks out from her fingers, which landed in Chris' hair and ignited all the same nerves as when she had pulled and tugged at it.

Then, she withdrew her awareness from Chris entirely, just for a few moments, only to envelop him in her cloudy pleasure haze once more, raising an eyebrow at Chris to make a point. And then, she intentionally increased its effect on Chris, her eyes growing heavy with craving as she called him to her.

Kiss me, Chris, the goddess said potently in his mind. Her lips still ached for contact after she had refused Evan, and she wanted Chris closer. That Chris would need to stand over Lance's head was no matter. She wanted her hands back in his hair.

Undulations of rapturous bliss and agonizing loneliness swept Chris along in a current too powerful to fight. He worried distantly that there was some sort of danger in this state--whatever fate Trevor had only narrowly avoided, he thought--but no sooner would the worry briefly bloom than another shift would happen, yanking Chris' consciousness entirely into aching longing or blissful relief.

At least, until sharp barbs of anxiety, fear, and jealousy stabbed through him, and the worry about danger finally reared itself to the forefront, clawing Chris out of the flow he had been in and back into awareness of the grass beneath him, and the cold air around him, the goddess having left his side.

Chris cried out, the grief inside of him far too much to contain. His hands gripped tightly at his hair for solace, though he calmed after a moment, confused and disarmed by a wave of delight that warmed him. The goddess'?

"Who. Do you think. You are."

The goddess was on top of one of the other volunteers--Holloway--biting and scratching at him as he cried out. Chris darkened with jealousy, missing her body against his terribly. He was almost possessed with the impulse to throw himself into whatever that fray was, to bite and scratch the goddess, pull her attention back to him--damn the consequences. But, he was scared, and maybe more than a little bit prideful.

"Delight!" Holloway cried out, and the goddess erupted into giddy laughter. Chris felt her glee rolling through him, but he knew it was not his, and he resented it. He resented whatever Holloway had done to pull the goddess away, and he resented sitting here and watching this display. Maybe leaving to go explore was sounding more appealing at last.

But, as he began to consider that direction, the heaviness of the gravity that held him here grew apparent, his body loathe to move away from her presence. He tightened his grip in his hair, half in frustration, half just to feel a sensation in his control.

"And so you are," the goddess declared of Holloway, pivoting him beneath her closer to Rutliff, who apparently had grabbed hold of Nathan to bite in the goddess' absence. Chris shuddered. It was all men who had stayed, wasn't it? Well, they were all men, save for Chloe. Chris felt a hot blush burn at his cheeks, embarrassed that somehow, through all the dithering he had done, he hadn't considered that he'd be sexual with the other volunteers. A horribly naive oversight, clearly. It wasn't so bad when he was in the middle of it all, lost in the goddess and not caring who else was around. But now, on the outside, he felt stranded. Alone.

Chris.

Chris snapped to attention, elation suddenly overwhelming everything else that the goddess' attention had returned to him at last, beckoning. Their eyes met, his heart thumping with eager anticipation, and his scalp tingling warmly with memories of her fingers in his hair. Tears welled in his eyes with an absolute knowing that the goddess had enjoyed her fingers in his hair, too.

You know when my awareness is close. You feel my presence, even when I'm not touching you, even when I'm not speaking in your mind.

Chris blinked at her in surprise. She was... yes, speaking into his mind. He supposed it wasn't the first time since he'd arrived, but it was still quite something to actually comprehend. Then, after a pause, the goddess added, It's rare, you know.

A fresh blush warmed Chris' cheeks, this one more a sort of astonishment than anything else. She was saying... he was noticing things that the others weren't? But how could they not?

The goddess flicked her wrist in Chris' direction, startling him with sparks that flew toward him, landing in his scalp and igniting hot tingles all through his nerves. He shuddered with pleasure, but then felt the goddess withdraw from him again, and couldn't help crying out, instinctively reaching for her and falling forward onto his hands. The impulse rose again to altogether approach her, but he was still so afraid of wading in to all of the others present, no clue how the interplay among six different beings would go. It was daunting, to say the least.

Thankfully, the goddess' attention swept back into him, bringing with it a heavy cloud of pleasure, and Chris shuddered and moaned, gripping tightly at the grass and falling into the sensation of the cloth over his groin, sending an undulating warmth coursing through him.

Kiss me, Chris.

At last, Chris' desire to touch the goddess again outweighed his misgivings about the others in her presence. With a heavy groan, Chris pushed himself to his feet just long enough to slough back down onto his knees by Holloway's shoulders, hand eagerly reaching for her jaw to draw their lips together. Never mind Holloway's face beneath his groin or Rutliff panting beside him. He wanted to taste the goddess' lips, to twine his fingers in her hair, and lose himself again in her embrace.