FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The elf sighs, bringing her free hand underneath the kobold's chin. "My child," she responds in the dragon's tongue, "we are all puppets of the divine."

Many members of races and cultures who value the intimacy of sex put wealth and effort into the beautification of the bedroom.To Tik Tik, the place where one sleeps can be quite an annoyance to clean from the inevitable fluids that spill during tense hours of passion.

It appears that the High Priestess follows the general trend of beautification. However, it seems she added to the use of her sleep room and sex room with that of an altar. Candles line along the room, giving off a much more soothing light than the sun, allowing Tik Tik to not be blinded while also allowing the shadows the flickering flames to dance off of the body of the graceful elf. They dance over the headboard, which is etched with the hearts that make up the symbol of the order. What floor there is feels soft and squishy underneath Tik Tik's feet. She curls her toes to take in the tickling fibers of the carpet, all the while admiring the centerpiece.

The massive bed takes up most of the chamber with a rounded mattress, its craftsmanship obviously masterful to make such a mathematically appeasing curvature. And thinking of appealing curves, the High Priestess herself sashays her way onto the bed, crawling up upon it. Despite being barefoot throughout the temple, her soles are quite clean, a testament to the magic she possesses, or the dedication to the cleanliness of the clergy. Her robes draw tight to her knees, outlining her considerable rump. She makes Tik Tik appreciate what mammals find appealing.

The show only lasts for a little bit. The elf sits upon her knees, facing the kobold and patting the space in front of her. "Come, let us commune, for I have a message for you."

"High Priestess, it is an honor," The kobold says, speaking in her most polite draconic language.

The High Priestess smiles to her, those soft lips curled into genuine joy and affection. "There is no need to be so formal here. This is a place for love."

"Is not respect for authority a form of love?" Tik Tik inquired, the prospect of practicing philosophy with such a beautiful woman of power not at all unappealing to the little thinker.

The High Priestess giggles, fingers playing at a golden heart clipped around her robes. "Perhaps it is, but so is being familiar. Tik Tik, you may call me Tymara when we are alone. The gods will understand, and they shall smile upon us. After all, there shall be nothing between the two of us when we make our communion."

Upon saying that, Tymara clicks a latch upon that symbol, and the heart opens up, spilling the white cloth down over her body. Tik Tik is now granted the most intimate view of the High Priestess, her bountiful, motherly breasts, her flawless, smooth skin, the pink, erected nipples, her gently pudgy belly, and her thick thighs.

Tik Tik eagerly climbs up onto the Priestess's lap, wrapping her arms around the woman's body, her fingers squeezing into soft, squishy flesh. Tymara responds by embracing the kobold, hand upon her head and another upon her back. Their legs wrap around her, keeping them in close, and her larger frame warms the little dragon. The gesture buries Tik Tik's face into the bosom, shadowing her in warmth and love, where she can hear the beating of the matriarch's heart.

Through gentle strokes, Tymara let Tik Tik know that she was well taken care of. Fingers explore every crevice and every scale of Tik Tik's body. These digits are then followed by the gentle, yet exhaustive, kisses. At some point in this treatment, Tik Tik is laid upon the bed. This allows the woman to linger over her, the elf's weight keeping the dragon down while lips and fingers attend to different aspects of the tiny body.

Tik Tik sighs, enjoying the feeling of nipples rubbing up and down along the sensitive scales of her underbelly. Still, she lays back and lets the High Priestess take care of her. Something in the back of her mind tells her that this was all intended for her and that she shouldn't interrupt Tymara's ministrations with her own clumsy attempts. Could she ever please such a magnificent creature, one so clearly given this position by the higher powers?

Tik Tik did not believe entirely in those higher beings. Not that she didn't think they existed. It is more that they are not any different than any other creature of power. Tikana is like a god to her people, and Estrasa was certainly more godlike than her. Even Zelbia held much sway over beings of the physical world, yet could still be frustrated and defeated with the right techniques. Honestly, there seems to be no limit that a mortal can achieve, so the gods are just powerful beings who reached high levels of power.

That is, of course, what she believed, right up until she experienced the vision.

Tik Tik had never before considered the designs of the divine. She had, of course, seen beings that claimed to be gods, and she had, of course, rejected their deific nature. After all, any sufficiently powerful mage can make themselves appear to be godly. It's more than likely that any casters who claim to receive their power from the divine would, in fact, derive their power from some shared font of natural magics. While the kobold sits in the embrace of the elven High Priestess, the feeling in her form disappears as her mind's eye opens up. She cannot help but think that there is something otherworldly, indeed, about the power now visiting her.

She's no longer in Tymara's embrace. Or rather, she no longer feels like she is there, while still being there. All of her senses betray her. She sees the elf. She hears her voice. She smells the perfumes and oils, and she touches the flesh, but, Tik Tik is somewhere else entirely. A grand architecture rises up before her, making a mockery of the once-impressive temple where Tik Tik thought she was. The pillars that rise up and connect nothing are of a polished material Tik Tik has never seen before. Standing upon each of these uncountable pillars are shaded forms, facing each other in the cusp of confrontation.