“Would You Like Me On My Knees, Sir? Forever?”
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“Would You Like Me On My Knees, Sir? Forever?”
I’m Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, and I’ve made a teensy miscalculation.
Okay, so maybe I drained all the love from the world and funneled it into one mortal’s harem. Maybe I’ve devoted all my magical power to transforming brilliant women into devoted, statuesque, busty tradwives for Wes—a guy whose greatest ambition is unlocking achievements in retro games. Maybe I tell myself it’s all strategy, that keeping him drowning in adoration will prevent the Fates’ prophecy of my submission.
But here’s the thing: every time I engineer another beauty to worship him, every time I make them more perfect and pliant and obsessed, I feel it too. The lust I’m channeling? It’s rewiring me from the inside out.
Now Artemis, the virgin goddess herself, has stormed our mobile fortress to “rescue” her friend Hecate. She’s all righteous fury and untouched purity, ready to put this mortal in his place. Poor naive goddess thinks she can resist what I’ve made irresistible. One look at Wes in his pajamas and she’ll be begging to bear his children like the rest of us.
I keep telling myself I’m just being strategic when I imagine new ways to worship him. That I’m only getting breathless and desperate because it’s all part of my clever plan to avoid submission. That when I fantasize about calling him Sir while his harem-wives nurse his member, I’m not wishing I was right there besides him. I know he can make goddesses brainless, hot, obedient, and worshipful—look at what happened to Hecate. He’s going to do the same to Artemis. But I’m different, because like…
…um…sorry, what was I thinking about? Probably Wes. He’s so dreamy…
WARNING: This story contains scenes of INTENSE kink and bimbofication, mind control, lactation erotica, and the delicious humiliation of a self-righteous feminist.
