Lewd Dungeon, Book 39 Epilogue

Epilogue – Elsewhere

(Temple of a Thousand Moans, Iaruta 3, Iaruta System)

Once, she had been a High Priestess and Blessed Evangelist. Once, this holy site had been the Temple of Broken Chains. Once, her goddess was a beacon of hope for many. Once, she had been free. Once, but no longer.

Now, Malkai Werwall, former High Priestess of Pofmis, was named Whoremother, a Sacred Whore-Priestess of Pofmis and Blessed Courtesan, enslaved to a common Craftsman and Baker. When the compulsion, the last unwilling act of Pofmis Chainbreaker before she fell and became Pofmis the Willing, hit, she, and all the clergy and paladins who were in the temple at the time had turned to the strongest person in their presence who was not one of the faithful, and begged him to enslave them. The man had not hesitated in the slightest.

Under his ‘guidance’, the Temple of Broken Chains, the largest of its kind in Riryan space, had been turned into the Temple of a Thousand Moans, little better than a brothel. Every one of the faithful servants of Freedom had been turned into common whores, men and women alike. Worse, still, the only protection her Master allowed them to use was against disease. Every woman in the temple’s service had given birth at least once, by now, and were forced to watch as their children were branded as Slaves from birth by their Master, who had used a [Profession Change Tome] to shed his Baker profession and become a Slave Master.

Before, she had been so proud to stand as a High Priestess of the Chainbreaker. She still remembered what it had been like, back when Crusader-Champion Belkis led the martial might of the Pofmisian forces in this part of the galaxy. Slavers and tyrants quailed at the thought of the Golden Host coming to their worlds, and laying waste to all the terror and misery that they wrought.

Where had it all gone wrong? She was not fool enough to claim that this ‘Earth’ being reintroduced to the System was the cause of all her people’s woes, but it was true that, before then, the Church of Pofmis had been on the rise, and several worlds had been purged of the taint of slavery altogether. But then, the Crusader-Champion had received her vision from the Goddess, and set off to punish the fiend that had created a blasphemous image of the Chainbreaker in chains, and everything had changed.

First, the entire Church had been made Anathema to several gods. That, in and of itself, wasn’t terribly problematic, as all those gods were minor players, and Anathema had little effect on orbital weapons. Unfortunately, the Dungeon Foe title was far more damaging, as it harshly limited how easily the Church’s warriors could gain strength, making it far harder for them to bring freedom to those who were oppressed. And then, the Crusader-Champion had faced the Demon.

Like others of the faithful, she had been furious when the Crusader-Champion’s defeat and desecration had been broadcast to any world with an information network and a connection to the System. However, despite the ‘setbacks’ caused by the fall of the Golden Host and most of the fleet sent to Earth, few wavered in their faith, for Pofmis taught that the forces of Evil would always seek to undermine the strength of the Righteous, and to be strong in the face of misfortune, for Freedom would always win, in the end.

Except, it hadn’t. Instead, Pofmis herself had faced off against the vile fiend that had caused all the troubles that had beset the faithful, standing against him in righteous battle. And then, she had been beaten, stripped, broken, and defiled. Even her holy spear had been corrupted, turning to serve the God of Pleasure, Domination, and Dungeons. And then, she had been enslaved, and forced to send the terrible compulsion to all the faithful, everywhere in the galaxy.

When the compulsion faded, and she found herself kneeling at her new Master’s feet, it had nearly broken her. When word came in from other temples, and other worlds, letting everyone know what had become of the Church, she had given in to despair. She had tried to kill herself, but her Master forbade it. Instead, she was forced to recite the new tenets of Pofmis the Willing as her Master bred her, and Zankot, her former deputy, was forced to mount a hellhound bitch, while another hellhound mounted him. All to ensure that none of the faithful forgot how helpless and low they now were.

System Notice

Selphie, the Goddess of Truth, Justice, and Prosperity, has given birth to a daughter, Xoana, sired by Kuronoth, the God of Pleasure, Domination, and Dungeons.

System Notice

Pofmis, the Slave Goddess of Willing Submission and Devoted Servitude, has given birth to a son, Istos, sired by Kuronoth, the God of Pleasure, Domination, and Dungeons.

The two announcements from the System had startled her. Thankfully, her Master, too, was distracted by the alerts, and so he did not realize that Malkai (for she was still Malkai in her heart, no matter what the System or her Master said) had momentarily stopped worshipping his cock, and so she was able to start again before he noticed, avoiding punishment. If Master was pleased with her service, then he might use one of the other slaves. If he wasn’t… well, she still remembered the last time. She had been set in the stockade in front of the temple, free for anyone (or anything) to use as they liked. The stockade was enchanted to heal her body’s wounds, but it did nothing to blunt the wounds to her soul from such treatment.

Malkai wept, even as she used the [Carnal Arts] skill her Master made her take to please him. She knew that Selphie was her Goddess’s sister, and had been the one to take ownership of Pofmis, after her Fall. It was rare, exceedingly rare, for a union of deities to produce offspring, unless both parties wished for it. For both Pofmis and Selphie to give birth so close together, and from the same sire? Only the most naïve youngling would not see that they had descended into degeneracy together.

Once more, her heart broke, and, with it, the last of her former self. Her Goddess, even broken as she was, had willingly let the man who defeated and defiled her to defile her further by carrying his spawn. What worse torture for a former disciple of Freedom could there be than to know one’s patron was now the broodmare for Domination?

Her Master’s hand fell upon her head, and pulled her off him. With a wicked smile, he looked her in the eye. “Well, Whoremother, we should celebrate. Turn that ass to me, so I can see about putting a second whelp in you, in honor of your goddess.”

Whoremother did not say anything, did not even glare at him, as she usually did. She turned, and presented herself to her Master. What did it matter anymore? Her thoughts went away as her Master filled her cunt. The last of her old self was wiped away, replaced by only Master and his cock.