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Performing rites for the gods wasn’t just pleasing to them; there was a certain pride to be had in doing it well. As painful as planning was to her, Alessia had never lacked the talent to actually act. The best way to do things was never obvious, but when did that matter when she was capable of performing her choices well? There were a thousand ways to weave, to carry, to mend, to clothe, to praise and, yes, to worship and Alessia would bet anything that she could at least do them all well.

Perfection was an unreachable form, but her approach to competency HAD to be closer to it than a monomanic approach to it. It was why her father’s criticisms had always rung so hollow. She didn’t even hate that her father’s solution to a challenge was to bring out the shackles, but she loathed how much he made them chaff. And to what end?

To what end?

A couple of days passed since she transgressed and proved she was forgiven for said transgression. Her virginity hadn’t magically returned, of course, but if the gods did not mind, well, who was she to doubt them?

That did made her think about “testing” it out: since she wouldn’t be losing her virginity again, surely it wouldn’t be as bad? Surely without her virginity, she would only have to tangle with the irresponsibility of the act? Besides, Sabina said it herself: she had plenty of husbands and wives. Alessia could not have made any problems by…knocking her up.

…perhaps putting her suppositions to the test might not be the best idea.

At any rate, Elders Zina and Eulalia, though important, were simply the ones Alessia had the most familiarity with. With them on her side, she only needed to speak with a few more of them before she felt like things were heading in the right direction. Not too many more, but it would be hard for anyone, like her father, to push things under the floorboards now.

There were still about three days more of celebrating to be had, but things were as ready as she could make them. Once the celebration was officially over, things would not be going back to normal.

Not for her father at least.

But that did mean that Alessia, all of a sudden, had time on her hands.

Time that, one early morning, she hoped she could spend doing something she hadn’t done in years.

Alessia wanted to spend time alone with her mother.

Sneaking back into her house, or her father’s house she should say, wasn’t really hard.

As neither her father, or gods curse her, Chiara, was there, the only people she had to worry about being seen by were the house servants. And they merely glanced at her, confirming who she was, before they all but went on about their day as if she had always been there. Hers wouldn’t be the first, or only, family with drama in it, and the help in Tritos knew to keep themselves out of it.

Still, just to be sure, because the last thing she wanted was another fight with her father, she delicately made her way to her parent’s bedroom.

It was late in the morning, just before afternoon got underway, really, and the city had already woken up. At this time, her father wouldn’t normally still be here. He would either be in one of the temples or with the council, looking over things to resolve. And without him here, there was no reason for Alessia’s ex-best friend to be there either. But times amidst a celebration were not the norm, and so Alessia had to ensure that abnormality didn’t also extend to his usual schedule.

Thankfully, she did not meet him, nor did she see him, as she casually put her back against one of the windows of her parent’s home and quietly slipped her fingers inside its apertures.

The wooden windows were usually locked during the night, a task the servants did without any of them noticing, but they had been left slightly open to let drafts of the cool morning air in. Alessia cracked the window slowly and carefully, thanking the gods for its hinges being well-greased. She opened it enough that her head wasn’t fully revealed as she peered inside of it.

Letting her eyes get used to the lower levels of light inside, she looked around it, ready to disappear if she saw her father inside.

But then she froze.

Someone WAS inside, but it wasn’t her father. A good omen as any that he wasn’t on the property at all, but she stopped caring about his presence for a second.

Because its sole occupant was, indeed, her mother. Just as she would have expected it.

But she was…milking herself.

Frija’s torso revealed rich creamy skin bared to the waist. While her blonde hair was done in a braid and draped across her back, she was sitting in the bed with a clay bowl in her lap. She had looked magnificent naked under the moonlight, yes, but there was only so much moonlight could reveal.

This was apparent now that Alessia could actually see the red freckles that ran through her shoulders.

And her tits.

Her absurdly large and meaty tits.

It was essentially impossible to say in what regard Alessia’s mother was lacking as a woman because she essentially had everything, but those heaving orbs were yet another reminder: They were bigger, even than Sabina’s, with her dinner plate-sized areolas circling their ends. Chunky and round nipples protruded from them, big enough for Alessia to barely circle her thumb and index finger around them, and they were being wrapped by her mother’s own hands.

Just as she was squeezing down.

Drawing milk from them.

“Hmmm,” Frija softly…moaned, for lack of a better word, as fat-laden dairy burst into the bowl in her lap. The liquid would come not just from the tip of her nipples, but also its sides, making various streams that were collecting below. The smell of it hit Alessia, the scent of her mother’s scent mixed with….that dairy aroma.

That alone would have been enough for Alessia’s dick to grow.

But the sheer sight of her mother trying, and failing, to grab her awesome breasts by their base as she slowly squeezed down, making them move like kneaded bread, would have done it all on its own.

Alessia watched transfixed as her mother started to sweat, Frija biting her lower lip as her cheeks took a rosy tinge.

She squeezed down, clearly relishing it and the result? Milk.

Mother’s milk. Maternal milk.

Human milk.

Alessia was breathing hard before she realized it.

“Aristocia?” a servant knocked on the door, almost making Alessia jump and successfully making her mother stop.

“Yes?” Frija replied, only a bit of her annoyance showing through.

“Your daughter is on the family grounds,” there was, likewise, an apologetic bend to the explanation, “I thought you’d want to know.”

“Oh, well, yes,” Frija looked at her breasts in frustration before putting the bowl aside.

That…was a lot of milk.

“Thank you for letting me know, if you see her, tell her I’ll be out,” Alessia’s mother sighed and Alessia had to duck the window to avoid being seen.

Without the sight of those heavenly orbs to take up all of her mind, her sense of rationality returned to her and all the obvious questions came to her.

How?

Or, rather, why?

Why was her mother milking herself-no, why was she lactating to begin with? Alessia was an only child and despite her parent’s best efforts she had remained so for the last 19 years!

But then, her freshly recovered rationale started supplying answers.

A woman as magnificent as her mother could still have bodily flaws. Women could be caused to lactate years after they’d given birth if they were in specific sorts of distress. Sickness, too, could cause it, but Alessia dearly wished that wasn’t the case.

Thinking about it, a month was also long enough for a woman to be knocked up by her husband. It could be her mother went on a voyage last year carrying Alessia’s would-be sibling. Not to term, of course, because her mother would have duly presented them when she came back. But long enough for her body to start lactating before the pregnancy went arry.

It was unfortunate, it truly was, but miscarriages and dead babies were common among almost all women trying to have children.

But the reason didn’t have to be tragic and dark. It could be that Frija had kept herself lactating ever since Alessia was born.

With a blush, Alessia thought that she certainly seemed to enjoy it enough for that.

But no, if she allowed herself to be distracted by that thought Alessia would be tempted to either pleasure her cock or finger her pussy.

So she pushed what she had just seen into a dank room of her mind, for later viewing when was alone of course, and collected herself.

She took a deep breath and walked around to her mother’s room.

“Mom?” she knocked.

“Alessia?” Frija was surprised, “Give me a second, I am almost done.”

“Sure thing,” Alessia cleared her throat, fighting to keep the memories from coming to the fore, “Please, whenever you can.”

“Thank you for waiting, little Azalea,” her mother eventually opened the door, covered in a proper silk tunic denoting a married woman of Tritos stock. It was blue today, complimenting her golden white hair and blue eyes.

Sometimes, it was so very hard to not stare.

“Wasn’t it Rose now?” but Alessia wouldn’t be her daughter if she couldn’t at least quip back.

“It can be whatever flower fits you best, love,” Frija spread her arms wide and enveloped her in a hug.

Those tits, which Alessia knew to be lactating, spread into her own, “T-thanks, mom.”

“Yes, well, your celebration is about to end-” Alessia swallowed the saliva in her mouth and forced herself to recite her script, “-and I was wondering if you minded enjoying some of it.”

“Just you and me, like we used to do in the old days.”

“Really?” Frija let go of her, “I’d love to!”

—-------------------------------------------

Big enough celebrations always started the same: At the extreme end and sliding slowly sliding down to what would ideally be “appropriate”.

Hand in hand, or rather elbow in elbow, Alessia walked the road with her mother, looking as if they were sisters rather than parent and child. Once upon a time, the tail end of these week-wide parties would be Alessia’s favorite time because this was when her mother took her out into the town to enjoy it.

Seeing people, even back then, defer and show Frija the proper awe that Alessia had was an edifying experience: everyone knew how amazing her mother was!

It wasn’t like her father didn’t occasionally take her out to places too, rarely as it was, but the mid point of the one month when Alessia could see her mother was her favorite time.

Just like back then, by this time of the month, there were no drunks on the streets or people passed out just outside their homes. What had been moved indoors stayed there, now, and children increasingly began to come out to enjoy party in their own ways out in the streets. It was troublesome NOW that Alessia was fully grown and didn’t want to run the chance of being pelted with dirt when she was just wandering around.

But her mother had a wide smile as they beheld kids doing what Alessia once upon a time liked to do.

“You were just like them,” Frija mentioned in a low voice into her ear, “It seems like it was just yesterday, but it was adorable!”

“I’m still adorable,” Alessia pouted.

“Oh, indeed you are,” her mother squished Alessia’s arm into the side of her tit, “But you are really fully grown now, aren’t you?”

“Already about to become a priestess,” Frija said as she looked into the sky, “So fast, and I-I missed it.”

Alessia was at a loss for words when her mother started choking back a sniff, “D-don’t mind me, love, I am actually really happy. Just, aheam, give me a moment.”

“You didn’t abandon me, Mom,” Alessia softly touched her arm.

“I said, give me a moment,” Frija waved her off.

Alessia looked around for a bit, trying to think of a good place to have a nice time, when her eyes caught the same inn that she had talked to Chares and Dina weeks ago.

“Say, Mom,” Alessia said, feeling just a bit of the mischievousness of her youth, “how about we go there?”

“You want to- a tavern, truly?” Frija stopped sniffing a gave her daughter a look, “Really?”

“Why not?” Alessia asked, “You said it yourself: I am about to become a priestess, after all.”

“So why can’t I have a drink with my mom?”

“Well, I suppose this IS a celebration,” Frija trailed off and Alessia started pulling her towards the building.

Just as she suspected, the place was mostly empty.

“Oh, your holiness and-Captain Frija, gods be praised! can this humble man get you lunch?” the proprietor of the venue eagerly asked.

Before her mother could make it boring, Alessia raised two fingers, “Drinks, sir, whatever you think is best.”

“Then you shall drink from my personal larder!” the man declared and vanished into the back of the tavern.

“I am pretty sure you have to pay for that,” Alessia smirked at her mother, “Even during celebrations.”

“Yes, of course,” her mother snorted, “Because that’s what always happens when I make port here.”

Alessia giggled, “Make port ‘here’? Not make port ‘home’?”

“...yes, of course,” Frija quickly corrected herself in a way that made Alessia stop giggling, “Home.”

“Where my drunk priestess of a daughter is,” she flicked a lock of Alessia’s yellow hair out of her shoulder.

Alessia started to smile again.

“You know-” Alessia began to say, propping up her chin with her palm as she relaxed, “It’s been years since I heard you talk about your voyages.”

“If you wanted to know what happened, you could sit with me at the Thing when I make my report to the council,” Frija replied.

“Yeah, but that’s the boring version!” Alessia said, “You sold this many ingots here, gave this much passage to people elsewhere there, and got this many grain over there-they never ask interesting questions!”

“They also ask political questions,” her mother pointed out.

“Alright, fine, those ARE interesting,” Alessia said, “But they never ask how the people are, what they like to do and how you interact with them!”

“People rarely change, daughter,” Frija sighed, “Those are things I informed of years ago, and the Thing doesn’t exactly need a reminder.”

“But you’re a Torch Captain,” Alessia insisted, “Surely, you’ve had an effect on them? Surely your power, influence and beauty have changed things?”

It was what Alessia believed to be happening under the scenes for years. What she knew, in her heart ever since she was a child, to be true. How could her mother not, when her mother was her mother?

“In a lot of parts of the world, being a Torch Captain isn’t as lauded as it is here, love,” Frija darkly chuckled.

“And sometimes it’s cause for concern.”

Alessia supposed it WOULD be too farfetched to expect all lands to be as civilized as the Warm Seas.

“At the very least, you’ve made friends in various places, right?” Alessia asked, “Connections, and your own small growing network of favors and debts?”

The following pause put a stump on Alessia’s eagerness.

“In many ways, yes,” Frija pursued her lips, “But there is such a thing as being too involved in things.”

“At the end of the day, all I do, all I am, is for what is in here,” the older blonde poked Alessia in the chest, “Where all that I care for is.”

“I suppose,” Alessia grumbled as she felt as though her mother had thrown a pot of cold water over her head.

But then, she really did suppose it had to be like this. What did she know about what Torch Captains did, really, except go out where no other ship went and deal with strange and profitable foreigners? Her mother, being a good captain, had to have her priorities other than Alessia’s. If she said the things Alessia fantasized about were not worth bothering with, why, they probably weren’t.

Alessia exhaled: She really was too childish still, wasn’t she?

“But what about you, little flower,” Frija asked her, “What can you tell me about yourself?”

“Not much to tell, honestly,” Alessia replied, “I’ll probably be made Priestess this year, by the way.”

At least, if she couldn’t join Frija’s ship.

“I heard about that!” Frija happily said, only to deflate, “Except, well…your father is thinking that it might be slightly too early.”

“Of course he does,” Alessia flatly said.

“The Elders have not stopped talking about it, however,” Frija conspiratorially said, as if she were letting Alessia in on a secret, “Which makes me believe that despite your…fight, it might well happen.”

“That’s how you know that the Elders are wise,” Alessia smiled, “Say, is he angry or-?”

“He is as he has always been,” Frija replied and said no more.

Alessia didn’t need her to either.

“Listen, love, this fight with your father-” Frija began, “I know I am not around enough to truly know what goes around the house, but I know how your father is.”

“Your father is not an easy man to get along with, sometimes,” she admitted, “And he …expects too much, I know.”

“But, believe it or not, your father is in many ways fair,” Frija said.

In response, Alessia gave her a dumbfounded look.

“He hasn’t given you an opportunity to observe it, going by that look,” Frija drily replied, “I know it doesn’t make up for a lot of things, and he has huge blind spots, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ll…take your word for it,” Alessia ended up saying, not wanting to dispel whatever image her mother surely had of her father.

The fact that he was cheating on her with Chiara…yes, it was truly for the better that she reconsidered just airing that little fact out.

Her mother didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that.

“Well, the messy things at home aside,” Frija moved on, “I am curious about what is involved in becoming a priestess.”

“That is, if you can tell me about it,” she clarified and, well, there WAS a lot Alessia was allowed to tell her.

So as their drinks arrived, and Alessia’s mother attentively listened to her, it struck the 19-year-old not for the first time how enjoyable it was to talk to her.

This was what her father had to look forward for one whole month every year.

And didn’t that just confirm things?

Her father really didn’t deserve her.