**”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. 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.”
“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, 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?”
The raven-haired attendant spread her dark lips in a soft, comforting smile and gracefully brushed a strand of golden hair from Althea’s face, tucking it behind the acolyte’s ear. It was an unexpected gesture, but it offered an opening for Maia to close a step between them. Her pale bosom was so close now, and Althea struggled not to simply oggle the alabaster stranger. “You still serve the Unclean Sire, my lady,” Maia began and circled around Althea to begin dressing her. With a tender touch, the handmaiden guided Althea’s arms up before pulling the toga’s neck over her golden head and guiding the broad, sweeping sleeves over her arms. Althea gasped when she felt the stranger’s hands rest on each side of her hips, only for Maia to gently turn her toward the tall, polished bronze mirror on the wall. In its shimmering surface, Althea saw how the opulent, purple garment hugged her curves. It only exaggerated her unnaturally heaving bust, and the open slits on each side accentuated her otherwise narrow hips. Though, judging by the look of it, even Althea’s hips had endured minor growth from the arduous pregnancy. “Within you lies the future of the faithful,” Maia all but whispered into Althea’s ear as she stood behind the acolyte. That pale, slender hand slid from Althea’s hip to cup her flat tummy, resting atop her womb.
“Wait… you don’t mean that–” Althea’s eyes widened at the implication, but before she could finish her question she let out another dry cough. Maia stepped away to give her some space and glided toward the door.
“Forgive me, my lady, I will return with refreshment at once,” the formal attendant offered a deep bow with hands clasped over her thighs. When she bent at the waist, Althea caught a peep of the girl’s surprisingly dark nipple as her full breasts hung pendulously in the thin, silken tunic. Maia pivoted on her bare heel and padded out of the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. When Althea heard a metallic click followed by the jangling of keys, she knew she was no guest of honor. A prisoner she remained, even if she now found herself in a gilded cage.
At last, she was alone again, if only for a moment. Althea’s eyes drifted back to the mirror and she hurried closer. Tugging aside her violet toga, the priestess felt her heart sink. There, stamped around her navel was a familiar wreath of black spots. The first of these had already blossomed into a skull shape. No denying it, she was pregnant. Again. By her own son at that. This was all too surreal, and the girl staggered backwards, feeling faint. Head spinning, she found the nearest of the numerous lounging couches and plopped down. It felt incredibly plush and comfortable. That’s when her mind returned to the damp stone floor of her cell. Would this luxury last? Would she ever really know freedom again? With the initial shock passing, Althea craned her neck back toward the vast bed at the rear of the room. Ascending the risen dais, she wrapped her fingers around the dark, mahogany bed post.
“Helestria… my goddess… what is the meaning of all this? What lesson am I to learn from such hardship…” Althea murmured softly, wiping a tear from her eye. On shaky legs, she lowered herself to her knees and clasped her hands in prayer, elbows propped on the edge of her bed cushion. There she recited prayer after prayer from memory. But she felt no spark of connection. No fire of her former faith remained. Althea again found herself lost in the dark.
When she heard the clank of the door unlocking, Althea pivoted and sat on her rump, back against the side of the bed frame, knees curled up to her chest in a fetal position. Maia entered bearing a golden goblet and an ornate, painted amphora. “Lady Althea? Are you feeling ill again?” she inquired and filled the goblet with crystalline water. The gothic beauty hurried to Althea’s side and offered the cup. “Please, drink and find solace,” she remarked. The priestess gingerly accepted the drink and took a deep swig. The shock of water hitting her dry throat almost made her choke, but she managed to gulp it down. To her astonishment it was actually clean and clear. No rot, no taint, just fresh water. “Rejoice in your role, for you shall ferry forth the first scions born of your entwined bloodline,” Maia elaborated.
“Scions? Do you mean to say I carry more than one child?” Althea asked, but the last word left a sour taste in her mouth. She could not forget the horror of her firstborn; the filth and corruption of his ruinous form. These were not children. They were monsters.
“Indeed. All is proceeding according to the prophecy, you see,” Maia said with a smile, her thin fingers cupping Althea’s cheek as she lifted a small tear from the acolyte’s face. The raven-haired beauty brought the teardrop to her lips and licked it from her finger, as if savoring in Althea’s anguish. She let out a soft, smoky chuckle before offering her lady a hand up. Again, Althea showed reluctance, but accepted the kind gesture, rising to her feet again. Maia still stood a half-head taller than her, but there came an inexplicable comfort from the strange woman’s proximity. “In carrying the twin scions to term, you shall fulfill the wishes of great Nihilipox and release his gifts upon the world,” Maia recited as if from many years of study. This made Althea realize the importance the cult placed on her. Perhaps she could leverage her position with them?
“Twins,” Althea said reflexively, her hands resting over the purple fabric covering her navel. Maia refilled the cup before handing it back to the stunned priestess. She drank again in silence. That is, until a knock came at the door.
“Maia, bring the girl to the master’s sanctum when you’ve finished the preparations,” a raspy, rattling voice said from beyond the heavy, wooden door.
“Of course. Please tell the Heir that he may expect us shortly,” Maia called back before turning to Althea. A muffled grunt of acknowledgement was the only response from outside. “My lady, we must make haste. It would be rude to keep your son waiting,” she said with an assertive, compassionate tone before pinning the shoulder of the toga into place with a golden brooch. It bore the image of a six-eyed skull surrounded by coiling tentacles.
“The Heir… so this isn’t a dream after all,” Althea mused with a distant, detached expression. She rubbed a circle over her flat womb, knowing full well it would not remain so for long. The young priestess turned her dead-eyed visage toward the handmaiden, locking onto those amethyst orbs. “Will… will you join me, Maia? I’ve felt so lost until now… I don’t know if I can face him alone.”
At this, Maia clasped her cool, pale fingers around Althea’s hands in a doting gesture of protection. “Of course, my lady. I shall be with you all the way. I promise you will know nothing but bliss from this moment forth,” she explained before tearing away to fasten the golden, braided waistcord around the toga. “All you must do is open your heart to the master. Let his love fill your soul, and you will find joy.”
The thought of surrendering her will to this cult made Althea feel a wave of nausea pulse in the depths of her stomach, though she suspected it could also just be morning sickness. Thankfully it passed as quickly as it came. Maia placed a chaplet made of woven, black leaves and branches atop Althea’s head, like a crown of wild darkness before taking the stunned, pregnant priestess by the hand, leading her toward the door. Each step forward made the dread rise in the blonde acolyte’s chest, for she knew not what new horrors awaited her in the heart of the cult’s lair…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kbx012/lair_of_the_cryptmother_ch_12_dark_fantasybody
[Chapter 11](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kbwzoa/lair_of_the_cryptmother_ch_11_dark_fantasybody/)
[Chapter 13](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kbx1nu/lair_of_the_cryptmother_ch_13_dark_fantasybody/)