She was becoming more than a goddess. She was becoming a mother of magic, of sin, of rebirth. A low, feral hum filled the chamber as the air turned dense with musk and ozone. Shadows rippled across the walls like…

She had taken their hunger, lust, seed, and made it holy. The ground beneath her shimmered with magic, and from her thighs, from her body, from the cum that soaked her to the bone—life would spring. The harvest would flourish.…

Her breath came in gasps. Her fingers clenched the stone. Each load made her feel fuller, more divine. They came on her ass, her shoulders, even her feet. She reveled in it all. “Do not stop,” she begged, voice hoarse,…

suckling gently, teasing the tip until the man groaned above her. Another gripped himself and stroked close, then another, and another. She felt them gathering, a circle of male lust and need, throbbing shafts inches from her face, her breasts,…

They called her Lysara, the Vessel of Renewal. Once each year, when the twin moons aligned and the night bled violet across the sky, she was summoned to the sacred circle of stone, where the old gods demanded she receive…