Dinah was not surprised that Maya had once again led them into trouble.
The catgirl had a knack for mischief and it was usually Dinah and Arman who had to clean up the mess she had made.
Only this time, Dinah realized, there was no Maya around. No Arman either. Not even that silly elf girl from the newspaper.
In the chaos and explosions, the others must have taken wrong turns and become separated. How bothersome.
At least she knew she was heading in the right direction. She could feel it in the stone tunnel ahead of her: a throbbing of powerful magic.
For Dinah was no normal priestess as her companions believed. Not some preening, self-righteous bore lecturing about sins and chastity and charity to smelly poor people.
No, under her robe, Dinah’s supple flesh was marked with the symbol of the black widow.
The rune was imbued with magic and pulsed with the power of Shaala the Spider.
She served the inscrutable plans of the Silken Gasp. Her magic born of darkness. Her body and soul devoted to the pleasures and sweet agonies of the eight-legged queen. Her hymns moans of pleasure. Her prayers orgasmic peaks.
She advanced down the tunnel, her eyes sparkling in the darkness, her hips swinging.
She followed the trail of spellcraft deeper into the earth. A phantasmic drumming in her core. Ritual magic was underway. Chanting and drumming growing louder. Throbbing in her body.
She picked out torches ahead and the murmur of voices and smell a raw, unwashed animal stink.
The corridor angled downward. Venturing deeper. The thump of the drums receding somewhat, but still pulsing in her core.
A foul, animal stench began to fill the air. Pigs, she realized. Why were they being kept down here? She covered her mouth and nose with a perfumed lace kerchief and proceeded.
Soon, she reached a cool, dank cavern thick heavy with the barnyard stink.
A large pen took up most of the room, but she could just see a side chamber with several goblins, seemingly drinking and playing whatever games amused their kind. Better not to rouse them, thought Dinah. Her eyes wandered again to the pen.
She could sense that same magic from the ritual lingering within. She’d felt traces of it before, when that hideous pig creature had appeared. Were the magic and the pig related?
She crept towards the pen, opening the gate and slipping inside.
There was something cowering on the floor. Its skin pinkish. Shoulders broad and hunched. Whimpering.
She crouched beside the creature and placed her hand upon its shoulders.
It turned and looked at her, and she stifled a gasp at its hideous face, mouth deformed by magic, eyes pleading and confused.
Somewhere between human and beast. It shuddered, its eyes rolling back as a symbol pulsed on its back and muscles began to bulge from its flesh.
"Skkkkwwwweeeeeeee!" the pigbeast squealed, flailing its stunted limbs as they began to elongate and swell with muscles. Disgusted and horrified, Dinah stood and began to back away.
Her back hit something solid and fleshy. The animal stink wafted down to her. She turned.
A second pigbeast loomed behind her, and he was much further along in his transformation.
He resembled more the creature they had encountered before. Beady eyes gleamed with hostility.
Standing on two legs, huge gut swelling over its naked legs, the creature snorted through a flattened, porcine snout with tusks jutting from his jaw.
He grabbed her slender neck with one huge hand. She tensed, but it didn’t crush her throat, only held her. Sniffed at her curiously.
"H-hello," said Dinah. "I’m a f-friend."
"Friend?" growled the pigbeast.
"Friend-ish." Dinah tried to smile despite the awful sounds the other pigbeast was making as its body continued to transform.
At least the noise provided cover for her conversation. The goblins would never hear her talking. "We, um, haven’t been introduced. My name is Dinah. What’s your name?"
He shook his wide, hoglike head and she saw a copper tag clipped to his ear. The number 15 was visible engraved on the tag.
"Fifteen," said the pig. "Fifteen good."
"Hello, Fifteen," said Dinah. "A p-pleasure to meet you. Would you mind letting go of my neck?"
"Let... go?" The pigbeast furrowed its brow with thought and released her throat. It flexed its fingers and looked at its fat digits as if it had never occurred to it that it could release someone from its brutal grip. "You not goblin. Which mean you magic lady."
"Hm, yes, well," Dinah rubbed at her throat. "I am a magic lady, in fact. How did you know?"
"Lady and man magic," said the poor simpleminded brute. "They top boss. Are you top boss?"
Her fear ebbed, and Dinah smiled. She saw an opportunity in this creature’s crude mind. If it had somehow been elevated from a mere beast into something resembling a rather large, pot-bellied, and brutally muscular man, then she knew just what men would follow.
"Yesssss, I am a top boss," purred Dinah, reaching out and letting her fingers play over the coarse hairs of Fifteen’s chest. "The very top, in fact. And you, Fifteen, are you going to help me?" She let her hand fall down over his smooth belly and beneath it to the cloth tied around his hips.
She felt the bulge of something stirring within. Fifteen’s eyes looked at her with new interest. A new hunger. That thing in his loincloth stirred more urgently.
"Fifteen best," repeated the pigbeast. "Fifteen toughest. Strongest. Best."
"Hmmm," cooed Dinah. "I can see that you’re a very big boy, Fifteen. But I’ll be the judge of whether or not you’re the best."
She drew aside his loincloth and sucked in a breath at the sight of what lurked beneath. Fifteen was well-endowed with the full length of a giant porcine penis.
It resembled a swollen, pink corkscrew, with a bit less of a point on the end. It glistened in the dim light and twitched as Dinah let her fingers trail over its length.
Fifteen oinked softly, his brow furrowing in confusion, but his eyes watching with great interest as Dinah began to gently stroke the length of his corkscrew cock.
Her fingers traced the curves of its shaft, round and round, from the root above his massive bollocks up to the dripping tip.
"You’re going to help me, aren’t you, Fifteen?" Dinah murmured, pressing seductively against the muscular brute, her breasts squished against his chest. "You want to be the best, right?"
The pigbeast’s lips curled back from his tusks. He puffed up his chest and let out a growling oink that vibrated against her as she pressed her body tightly to him.
Her hand continued to pump on the glistening rod of his cock. Mesmerizing him with the rhythmic movement and the pleasure of her skilled fingers.
"Me... rrrrr... me best!" Fifteen grunted, his snout curling with pleasure as her hand worked him. Goddess, she could see his fat bollocks underneath his cock swinging. How much cum did he hold in those?
It was times like this that Dinah was glad her goddess denied her servants nothing.
In fact, the deeper the depravity, the more her blessing touched them. Sadly, ’polite’ society tended to have a problem with orgies in the middle of the streets, which caused her faith to be driven underground. Bigots.
Thus, Dinah was forced to pretend that she was of the chaster faiths.
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