Boudoir of the Blighted Queen

Althea awoke to a deep, throbbing headache. She inhaled sharply, only to summon a raspy, dry cough. So thirsty. She hadn't had a thing to drink in so long... aside from her own spoiled leakage and that accursed elixir. The priestess blinked softly, still ensnared by the persistent stupor of sleep. For the first time since leaving the sanctuary of sunlight, Althea felt warm. Limbs like jelly, it was a struggle for her to even lift her leg. Blankets? Eyes snapped open and she jolted upright, but immediately regretted the sudden movement when a twinge wracked her middle. That's right. Her experiences with that monstrous bastard of hers were real. At this she realized that her mind felt clearer, and she was no longer under whatever enchantment had seized her voice and actions.

But when Althea looked around, she found herself snuggled up in thick, olive-green blankets, resting atop a sprawling bed. Four tall bedposts stretched toward the vaulted, domed ceiling of the room. There were even rich, burgundy silk curtains providing her a cloistered sense of privacy, though it also shrouded the remainder of the room. Althea counted more pillows than she'd ever possessed. The stark contrast to her previous dwellings in the cramped, dirty cell left young Althea in a state of shock and disbelief. Never in her life had she known such luxury. Surely this was all a dream. Or another of the cult's attempts to muster her hopes, only to quash them for their own twisted delight.

The girl peeled away the comfort of the blankets to get a look at herself. Another confirmation of the reality of her the previous encounters were the twin milky globes hanging from her chest. They still possessed much of their firmness, and by pressing her fingers into the warm flesh she was met with a small dribble of the noxious lactation. Yet to Althea's surprise, the rest of her body had been scrubbed clean. There was no trace of the caked-on cum stains or ichorous excretions anywhere. Even her hair, which had clumped together with grime and filth and lost its lustre, now shone golden and bright once again.

That's when she heard the click of a metal latch followed by creaking hinges. Muddled light shone through the gaps in the drawn curtains-- someone at the door perhaps? Althea licked her dry lips and warily bunched the blankets up in front of her prodigious chest. Her knees rubbed together before she at last spoke up.

"H-Hello?" she called out, almost not even recognizing her hoarse voice. From all of the dehyrdration, screaming, and throatfucking no doubt. "Is anyone there?" Althea heard light footsteps approaching, and she silently prayed for mercy from Helestria, if the goddess could even hear her anymore. The steps halted, and Althea could make out the slight silhouette of a feminine figure just beyond the curtains.

"How do you fare, my lady?" a soft, smoky voice inquired. Courtesy and formality seemed entirely foreign to the priestess after all of her recent trauma, and so she failed to reply. Althea sat frozen, awaiting whatever horrible twist this stranger was about to reveal. But instead, a pale, slender hand parted the curtain and unveiled a flawless, alabaster countenance. Althea considered herself an attractive girl-- at least before all of these recent changes-- but this stranger was utterly captivating. Her eyes shone like brilliant amethysts. Her shoulder-length bob-cut raven hair and the black lipstick and eye shadow only intensified the contrast of light and dark. "My lady?" the woman perked a brow and pursed her full, dark lips.

"I--um--where am I? And who are you?" Althea stammered, still taken aback by the woman's striking aesthetic. The questions brought a smile to the stranger's alluring face, though her piercing gaze did not soften in the slightest. It felt as though she were simultaneously perceiving Althea as a thing of reverence and no more than helpless prey.

"You are in your bed chambers, Lady Althea, and you may call me Maia. It is my pleasure and my honor to serve as your handmaiden," Maia bowed her head slightly before once more locking eyes with the anxious priestess.

"But... But how did I get here? Why am I here?" Althea frowned and licked her chapped lips, eyes darting around the shrouding, burgundy curtains. "Where even is this place? Are you working with those... those people?" she continued only to be cut off by a dry cough.

"My, my, so many questions. All of your questions will be answered in time, my lady, but for now I want to assure you that you are safe and no harm will come to you," Maia replied with a smooth, graceful eloquence. Her eyes hung half-lidded, as if her long, dark lashes were weighing them down. It gave her an appeal that felt unusually enticing to the young acolyte. Something about this woman put her at ease. When the raven-haired attendant offered a hand to Althea, the priestess leaned forward with a feeble groan from the bruising inflicted on her by her own son. She took Maia's hand and with her help emerged from the tiny, veiled domain of the bed.

"Woah..." Althea murmured at what she saw. This was no mere bedchamber. Her bed, wide enough to fit four fully-grown adults side-by-side without cramping, sat atop a raised dais at the rear of the spacious boudoir. Numerous dressers, cabinets, and other storage containers dotted the room. Fresh flowers sat in ornate vases and urns, bringing added life and color to the room. The floor was a finely polished mahogany to match the bed frame and posts. She had a fully-stocked bookshelf, a lounging sofa, and enough chairs to entertain several guests. It had every little thing she might need to live a life of extravagant comfort.

But something nagged at her. Something somewhere in the room smelled off. Like old fruit that fell out of sight. These thoughts faded when Althea's attention turned back to Maia. While on the bed, the priestess only saw her new companion's face and one arm. Now standing beside her, she could see that Maia was even more beautiful than expected. Her flawless skin was all but on full display. She wore a low-necked, sleeveless tunic made from very thin, black silk. She wore puffy harem pants with a broad slit on the each side of both legs, cut almost all the way to her waistband. They left little to the blonde acolyte's imagination. She sported wide hips and that slimmed to a narrow waist, which in turn supported a pair of breasts that would fill any man's hand and then some. A true hourglass figure, and Althea could only help but feel a pang of envy.

"Now then, can I get you anything to eat or drink?," Maia asked, clapping her hands together to punctuate the question. "I am certain that after last night's ceremony you must be absolutely famished." Althea balked at the offer before narrowing her eyes at the woman.

"I am terribly thirsty," she said with a dry cough. "But I shall not be eating another of those pies. Nor any food prepared with such sinful... ingredients," the priestess took a step away from the woman and folded her arms across her chest. This only served to squish her engorged tits up toward her chin, wringing out a dollop of the sour milk in the process. Without hesitation, Maia procured a small handkerchief from a pouch on her hip and wiped the unclean lactation from Althea's bosom. The priestess initially recoiled, but when her new handmaiden showed no ill will, she allowed the cleaning. "This is all very strange..." she said softly while the pale woman dabbed at her breast flesh.

"I can only imagine how you must feel right now. You endured quite an ordeal last night," Maia said before turning to the nearest dresser. She pulled open the drawer and immediately pulled out a black robe with that familiar, bileous green in embroidered stitching along its seams. She was still in the house of Nihilipox, and yet she felt safe. Secure, even? Maia held the robe up next to Althea and pursed her lips before shaking her head. She tucked the garment back into the drawer before opening a different dresser. "It is no small feat to survive the pleasure and pain of Lord Nihilipox. But as for your thirst, I shall fetch you some fresh water after we get you dressed."

"Maia... I have to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me," Althea said as her attendant pulled out a violet toga with a black, silken waistcord. The girl's amethyst eyes darted between Althea's body and the toga. When Althea put her hands on her hips, Maia again locked eyes with her.

"What is it, my lady?" she asked, lowering the dress with a puzzled expression.

"Well," Althea began, running a hand through her thick, golden locks, "I haven't been released yet, and I haven't been killed, so I must be here for a reason," she said and narrowed her eyes with a scrutinous glare. "What does the cult of Nihilipox want with me?"