Melona looked to the source of the voice and was greeted with the sight of a fiery explosion. She covered herself, fully expecting the move to be futile, but surprisingly the flames only mildly warmed her up. The witch looked up in confusion, and saw a massive figure stride out from the flames. Easily over eight feet with dark skin and fiery red hair, but everything was too blurry for her to make out any more details.
“Ah, there ya are. Still lookin’ cute as ever, I see,” a rugged yet seductive voice said. “But there’s one thing missing.” The figure raised a hand to Melona’s face, who was too stunned by the situation to react in time. Before she knew it, she was suddenly wearing her glasses again and could see clearly now. “Ah, that’s better, ain’t it lass?” With her vision restored, Melona could get a good look at the stranger.
Her body was only covered by a leather skirt, an iron pauldron on one shoulder, and cloth wrappings tightly clung around her massive yet firm breasts. She was also extremely fit, her thighs alone looking large and strong enough to crush Melona’s skull between them like a grape, who had no idea why that was the first analogy she thought of. This was clearly the body of a strong warrior, an image supported by the numerous scars on her body. The largest of these scars being on the figure’s right shoulder where an arm would normally be. On her back was a large sheathed sword, which Melona could somehow tell hadn’t been drawn in a long time. These last two traits confirmed who this person was.
“Anyways, name’s Pyre. Sure ya guessed that already,” the goddess said warmly.
Pyre. The Goddess of fire, war, and passion. She earned the moniker of the Warrior Goddess for the numerous battles she partook in on behalf of both the other gods and mortals, the most significant of which being the battle against the Great Devourer, where she lost her right arm. After that, it was said that left-handedness was a sign of her blessing, as she trained them to fight with techniques she developed for her lack of a right hand. Nowadays, everyone knows it’s really because most fighting techniques assume the opponent will fight right-handed, giving lefties an advantage. The superstition still survived though. And despite her fierce sword, named ‘Flamecutter’, she exclusively fights with her legs and remaining arm. The last time Flamecutter needed to be drawn was against the Great Devourer, and the next time would herald some big disaster. Whatever that would be.
“Oi, lass.” The goddess snapped her fingers in front of her face. “I know I’m ‘hot’, but you’ve been quiet for a while.”
Melona blinked. “Ah, s-sorry, your godliness. Your diviness. Your-”
“Pyre’s fine, lass.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I just said you can call me Pyre.”
“S-sorry, Pr. Pyre.” Shit, interacting with professors daily made her use the wrong honorific.
This, instead of offending the goddess, caused her to release a hardy laugh, so intense to cause her scarred bosom to jiggle. Once she was done, she smiled and ruffled Melona’s hair. “I love how cute you mortals get around me. Yer always so nervous ‘til I show ya to bed.”
Melona couldn’t help but blush. Both out of embarrassment and from the thought that this goddess was asking to sleep with her already. She did, according to myth, produce the most demi-gods out of every goddess.
“But, another time perhaps. Fer now, I have something important I need from ya.”
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author