Thief
Samantha ran her fingers through the mound of treasure before her, the rattle of clinking coins echoing off of the walls of the ruins as she scooped them up into her hands and let them fall again. The pile was deep enough to swim in. If it weren’t for the dust and cobwebs, she would happily try. Finally, her fortunes had changed. She was rich!
She wasn’t exactly an archeologist. There was a lot in this tomb she didn’t understand. Whatever historical significance these old coins had was lost on her, but she could recognise gold well enough. She dug into the pile and scooped a handful into her bag. Ideally she’d take the lot, but there was only so much she could carry. And yet with just a fraction of this she’d never have to work another day in her life! Maybe the coins were the most valuable thing here, but surely there was no harm in taking a few souvenirs for herself, too... She could always come back later to clean the place out. Filling her bag with more than enough gold to pay her debts, she turned around see what else there was to take in the dusty catacombs.
More than a few treasures caught her eye. The ruins were full of them, valuables strewn everywhere with seemingly no concern for their safety. It was a miracle that nobody had stolen them until now. A beautiful gold necklace stuck out from the lid of a chest too full of treasure to close. Gently she pulled it loose and pocketed it. She could see herself wearing that! Behind the chest, a gold sceptre lay propped up against a stone pillar. Samantha wasn’t quite sure what the point of a scepter was, just that they were valuable, and that queens had them. She liked the idea of sitting on a throne with one in her hand, and this one was small enough to carry back with her. The crystal chalice perched on top an urn caught her eye too. It looked almost too good to drink from, but she could always place it on her mantelpiece, or perhaps sip from it the finest wines as she perched upon her throne…
Her arms aching from the weight of her stolen goods, Samantha dumped them on the ground and searched the room for a mirror to admire herself in. Sure enough she soon found an ivory-framed oval mirror laying face down on the floor. Picking it up, she notched it against a rocky outcropping and dusted off the glass. One by one, she tried on each of her stolen goods in front of the reflective surface. The sceptre and the chalice both painted a very regal picture of her, but it was the necklace she liked most. Solid gold and diamond jewels contrasted somewhat with her utilitarian leather garments, but soon she would be able to afford the most extravagant of fashions to compliment it. And even the richest of nobles wouldn’t have anything to compare to this ancient antique.
Satisfied, she dumped her new acquisitions into her bag. Perhaps on her next trip she’d bring a wheelbarrow… But as she stepped away from the mirror something caught her boot. She tumbled to the floor, treasures clattering to the ground. Cursing out loud, she clawed at the floor for support to hoist herself back up, her hands brushing against a set of stone steps. She tilted her head up to look, finding herself at the base of a large statue she hadn’t noticed before.
At a cursory glance it wasn’t hard to see why. It was in a sorry state, the stone surface cracked and rotted from many years of neglect. Samantha could just about tell that the statue was supposed to be of a woman. Maybe a goddess or a noble of some kind, it didn’t matter. The way she stood elevated above the ruins, looking down at the rest of the room , made it seem like she had once commanded respect. But now she was nothing more than a surface for moss to grow on. What was interesting about her however, was the silver tiara dangling from one of her outstretched fingers. It looked out of place amongst the piles of gold, even more so than the decrepit idol that held it, but the glinting of the inlaid rubies caught Samantha’s eye. She rose up from her knees to retrieve it, brushing off the mossy residue from where the rim touched the statue’s hand. Carefully she placed it on her head and went back to the mirror to check her reflection. Not bad, she thought. Perhaps it wouldn’t go well together with her golden necklace, but she liked how the rubies complimented her red hair. Perhaps she could use her gold to buy an entire set of silver trinkets to match. Still though, she wasn’t sure. Something about the tiara didn’t quite sit right with her... She couldn’t place her finger on how exactly. It was not particularly heavy, yet it felt as if it were weighing her down, holding her in place. She shrugged. It could go in the back with the rest of the treasure for now. But as she reached to take it off she heard a woman’s voice.
“It suits you.”
Instinctively Samantha’s head turned to the exit. But there was nobody there. Surely there was only one way in? She didn’t say anything. Perhaps it had only been her imagination.
“Right behind you, darling”.
Samantha span around on the spot, brandishing a dagger from her belt. She saw nobody, nothing except the weathered old statue. She laughed. Just her imagination. A little paranoia was healthy for a thief such as herself.
“A sorry looking thing, isn’t she? It’s such a shame. But I’m sure she can be fixed.”
Samantha turned again, jumping back in shock at her own reflection in the old mirror. The voice didn’t sound as if it was coming from anywhere. She had to be going crazy. Samantha had heard that wealth can drive a woman insane, but she had hoped that could wait at least until after she had chance to spend it. Against her better judgement she decided to humour her delusions with an answer.
“Hello? Voice inside my head? Could you kindly fuck off? I’m somewhat busy here. Got a lot of gold to carry. I’m sure you can understand.”
“Excuse me? That’s hardly the tone of voice a lowly mortal such as yourself should be taking with me” the voice replied. It sounded regal, condescendingly so. “I suppose you are half right. I am speaking to your mind. But if you would just turn around darling I assure you I am right here.”
Samantha turned once more. Her eyes met the statue’s again. “Oh” she said back. “You’re the statue. Okay. Whatever. Was personally hoping I would go insane in a more exciting fashion. You know, start talking to my hands or whatever. Maybe start thinking I’m a chicken? Sorry if this is your loot, mouldy, but you’re not exactly spending it. Might just take the lot if that’s okay with you?”
The air felt cold, and suddenly Samantha wondered if she had made a mistake. The voice responded once more. “I am Dionisia, Goddess of Rule and Domination. And you, mortal, are already trespassing in my temple, filling your pockets with what is rightfully mine. You dare take that tone with me? That I would even deign to speak with you is already far greater an honour than you deserve, and yet I allow you this despite your disrespect. Do not taste the limits of my patience, thief.” The voice paused to let Samantha take this in. She’d never heard of this Goddess before. Obviously she hadn’t, because she was just hearing things. Still though, a nonsense story like this could help her sell her treasure to a gullible museum owner or something. “But yes, you were correct in my assumption that I require something of you. The tiara you wear on your head, how do you like it?”
“What, this?” Samantha asked, tapping at it with one finger. “Yeah, it’s alright. Looks nice.
Might clash with all the gold though. Still not sure if I’m gonna sell it.” For a moment, she forgot she was talking to nobody.
“That tiara” Dionisia replied, “belonged to my former High Priestess. Unfortunately, she died quite some time ago. I am need of a replacement. I would like to extend to you the same offer I once made to her.”
Samantha paused for a second. Perhaps this was how cults were started, by crazy people accepting deals from voices in their head. “So what, you want me to be your new High Priestess? Sounds like effort. How much does it pay?”
The Goddess answered in earnest, despite the mocking tone of Samantha’s reply. “As my High Priestess you will lead my people in worship. You will devote every second of your life to me and my cause. That is your payment. Service to me is the greatest honour a mortal could ever hope to achieve.”
“Hmmm”, said Samantha, making an exaggerated thinking gesture. “Worship a mouldy old statue nobody’s ever heard of in some ruin somewhere, or make off with all this gold and live the rest of my life in luxury? Such a hard decision! I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Samantha dismissed the statue with a wave and started walking back to the mound of treasure. “Think I’ll hang onto the tiara though. Looks kind of regal, y’know? When I have servants of my own I might get them to call me queen.”
Suddenly, a powerful impulse shot through Samantha’s body. She lost control of her legs. She span around, tumbling to the ground. Once again she was on her knees at the feet of the statue, but this time she couldn’t lift herself up. The eyes of the statue began to glow red, and the voice of Dionisia echoed through her mind.
“You misunderstand, mortal. My ‘offer’ was a formality. The decision was made the instant you placed that tiara upon your head. Do you really think the Goddess of Domination can be refused?”
Samantha clawed futility as the silver tiara, the muscles in her hands turning limp when she tried to pry it from her person. Surges of force emanated through the crown in response to every act of resistance, each one shaking her body like a ragdoll.
“It’s all in your head, it’s all in your head…” Samantha tried to reassure herself, but it wasn’t working. Her breathing was growing heavy and the tiara still wouldn’t come off. Finally, she turned her head up to look at the Goddess and spat. “Fuck you, let me go! I’ll never serve you, you decrepit old bitch!”
“Oh, you won’t? That’s funny. Why don’t we test that claim? Kiss my feet, thief. Worship me. You know that’s what you want.”
Samantha spat and swore and struggled, but slowly she dragged herself across the floor against her own will. The statue’s feet were as worn as the rest of the ruin. The moss had grown especially thick there, the mere idea of touching it with her mouth sent shivers of revulsion down her spine. And yet her head lowered as if it were being physically forced down. Unable to resist, she planted a kiss at the base of the statue.
“How curious. You said you wouldn’t serve me and yet here you are, grovelling before me. You can try all you like to resist. Your struggles do amuse me a little. But as long as you wear that tiara you are my High Priestess. My property.”
She tried again and again to remove the crown, but her hands could no longer reach anywhere near it. It was as if a magnetic force was repelling them. With every struggle it became harder and harder to move her own arms, until she collapsed at the foot of the statue in exhaustion, her head resting against its feet panting for breath.
The Goddess laughed. Her voice was sounding less and less distant. It was if she was in the room with her, standing over her. “Are you feeling comfortable, thief? It is only natural that you lay at my feet in this way. It gladdens me to see you grow accustomed to your new role so quickly. Now show me what you’ve learned. Get up off the floor, and say ‘I’m sorry Goddess. I’m sorry I ever thought I could defy you’.”
The unseen force of the tiara lessened as Dionisia allowed Samantha to make her next move. Feeling strength return to her limbs, she saw a chance and took it. Leaping back to her feet, she ran from the statue and made a grab for her gold.
“I said I’ll never fucking worship you!” Her shortness of breath made her reply weaker than she had hoped for. Her legs still felt heavy, and they were feeling heavier with every step. But so long as she could still move she could still make her escape. “I’m not your fucking High Priestess. I don’t give a fuck about you, or your shitty religion.” She didn’t dare reach for her tiara, instead opting to use the little strength she had to hoist her bag off of the floor and move towards the exit. As she slowly forced herself forward, one leg at a time, she tried one last parting shot. “I’ll defy you all I fucking want! Worship this!” Samantha raised her fist at the statue and extended her middle finger. “You can take your offer and shove it up your—”
Her reply was cut short as her own hand closed around her windpipe. She gagged and spluttered as the Goddess began to taunt her.
“Hmm. How unfortunate. It seems that you cannot be trusted to make your own decisions after all. I overestimated you, thief. I thought you might be capable of learning. But no, I see now that free will is not a privilege you deserve.”
Samantha lurched away from the exit, back to the statue, her hand still clenched around her neck. Once again the tiara had taken control of her body. She couldn’t do anything else.
“Can I make myself any clearer, thief? You are my High Priestess now. That tiara is not coming off, not as long as I wish for it to remain. I own you.”
Samantha’s grip released from her throat and she fell to the floor, gasping for air. Her mind fuzzy and her vision clouded with spots, it was hard to make out what was happening. When her senses returned to her she was kneeling again. This time she couldn’t move at all.
“Worry not, thief. I have no intent on killing you. It would be wasteful for me to destroy my own possessions in such a way. There is no need for me to punish you for your disobedience when I full control over you mind. I don’t want you to disobey so from now on, you won’t. Ever. Does that sound good to you, High Priestess?”
In her head she cursed at the statue, telling her she’d never serve her, promising that as soon as the tiara was off of her head she was going to take a sledgehammer to her and burn these ruins to the ground. But without any control over her own body these thoughts of defiance meant nothing. Samantha smiled and nodded, still kneeling. “Yes my Goddess” she replied serenely. “It does.”
“Excellent.” The smugness of the Goddess’s voice filled Samantha with fury, but there was nothing she could do but listen. “You are so much more amenable this way. Defiance does not become you. With my commands, your body can serve its true purpose. Now Priestess, tell me your name.”
‘Go fuck yourself’, she wanted to say in response, but instead she answered “Samantha”.
The Goddess laughed. “No”, she said. “That is not your name, High Priestess. I did not choose it for you. Your name is Ruby. Say it to me.”
“My name is Ruby, o Goddess…” Ruby said back. Inside her mind she was panicking. That wasn’t her name! It was, it was… Fuck. She couldn’t remember. She wracked her brain for any memory of her former identity, but there was nothing. Suddenly she recalled the tiara she found. The rubies that adorned it matched her hair. It suited her. Of course her name was Ruby! It had always been Ruby. What else could it have been?
“Wonderful. Do you see now the limits of your own mind, High Priestess? The thoughts I can give you are so much more wonderful than your own. I can still hear you, fighting and cursing in your head. I pity you. You are mine no matter what, Ruby, but if you would only lie back and let it happen you will never have to worry again. Give into your desires, Priestess. Worship me.”
“How?” Ruby asked, involuntarily, but also with genuine curiosity. Parts of her consciousness were still screaming out in indignation, seeking any possible way to resist, but those thoughts felt out of place, like that wrong name she thought she had before.
“You know how, High Priestess. Your thoughts are mine. Debase yourself. Revel in my superiority to you.”
At once, Ruby understood. She started to undress herself. Her Goddess hadn’t bid her to wear these clothes. What was she trying to prove with this false front of dignity? Her body belonged to her Goddess, hiding it from her was a sin. As she fumbled with buttons and straps a voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her no, that she should be embarrassed by this, outraged by this, that she should be resisting, but Ruby didn’t want to listen. In fact, she was going to undress faster just to spite that voice.
“Well done, Priestess. I’m glad you understood.” The statue did not move, but Ruby could feel the Goddess standing over her as she slid her panties down her leg. “Do you see now? You needn’t think anymore. Just act. Empty your mind, let yourself become a vessel for your Goddess’s desires. Worship me.”
Dionisia was right. Ruby did understand. As she kneeled naked before her Goddess, she knew she could degrade herself even further, that she could further demonstrate her function as a thoughtless, obedient toy. She reached between her legs and began to touch herself.
As Ruby pleasured herself, driven by mad fervour and oblivious to her surroundings, the statue of the Goddess began to glow. Dionisia’s voice rang through her head stronger than ever, although Ruby was hardly in the state to hear it. “I’ve been without power for so long now.” she said, her voice becoming stronger and stronger as Ruby sunk further into her trance. “I once had a great empire, millions of followers bound to my every word, living only to conquer and serve in my name. It was only by interference from the other gods that it crumbled. But under my instruction, my last High Priestess gathered all of my riches and hid them here in this temple, before I sank it deep within the ground. And now, Ruby, with your service I shall rebuild it.”
Dionisia’s words barely registered to Ruby, but they goaded her on in the form of an inexorable impulse at the back of her mind. She stroked her thighs, clawing between her legs, rubbing her own breasts and fingering her pussy, her body barely able to keep up with her overpowering desire. With every moan the more heretical thoughts of Samantha were quietened, drowned in her ecstasy. She needed to silence that voice, the one that begged her to stop, trying to distract her from her one true purpose. Her moans and spasms of pleasure brought out Dionisia’s voice more. She needed to hear it.
“All gods are given strength through worship. My power has been confined to this tiara for far too long. But all I need to manifest myself in this world again is the singleminded devotion of one mortal. And when you have lost yourself completely to me, High Priestess, that shall be enough.”
Ruby’s gaze was locked on the statue as she rubbed herself faster and faster. The icon of her Goddess had long faded, but in her mind she knew what she looked like. She was tall, standing high above any mortal, a sign of her divine right to rule. Her deep purple eyes and sculpted, elegant face radiating power and beauty, looking down upon her subjects as little more than the ground she walked on. Ruby imagined herself beneath her Goddess’s boot, in her rightful place. It was enough. She let out a scream as she climaxed, sopping wet, her eyes glazed over. Finally, her mind had surrendered.
Ruby fell to the ground, breathless. Behind her she heard footsteps and at once she turned around, kneeling in reverence. She was exactly how she had imagined. Dionisia stood before her in all her glory. All Ruby could do was stare, paralysed with awe, all her other thoughts gone.
“Your new vestments, High Priestess.” Dionisia dropped a silken robe down on the floor. “Put them on. Now.” She smirked at Ruby as she scurried across the floor, hurriedly dressing herself. They didn’t cover much, and what they did cover was wholly visible beneath the thin white silk clinging to her sweat soaked skin. Dionisia smiled. This was how all her followers were to be, even her High Priestess. Their dignity was not her concern. Such vanity was not becoming of mindless slaves whose only purpose was to serve a greater power. She grabbed Ruby by the arm and wrenched her up, the High Priestess struggling to find her feet as stood to attention. “Your mission, High Priestess. Tell me what it is.”
Ruby knew. Through her tiara, her Goddess’s thoughts were her own. “I am to take this gold and sell it, o Goddess. The profits will go to the restoration of your temple. The treasures will remain here in your honour.”
Dionisia nodded. Meanwhile, she would make her return to the mortal world, bending the minds of mortal girls to serve her just as she had done with Ruby. Soon she would have her followers again. Soon she would have her army. And then, she would take her revenge on the gods that stole the world from her.
But that was for later. It had been eons since Dionisia last had her physical form. Locked away for so long, it wasn’t just revenge she lusted for. And the girl before her was so willing to serve.
“Come here, Priestess.” She beckoned the girl with her hand. “Serve me here, in the flesh. Worship me.”