Divinity Rescue Corps

131- Doing God’s Work

Which was how I ended up with a nonstop stream of visitors in my bed. And more often, in the laboratory where I’d be working on the cure. Anyone not bent over the worktables and grunting at having me repeatedly slam my hips into their asses were tasked with making sure the coast was clear. It wasn’t too difficult, what with shift rotations.

The situation went on while the black cherry, the bluegrass, the purple morpheus, and the blue passionflowers all sprouted, grew, and blossomed under our care. While we prepped the ingredients for the task, I had a gorgeous woman on her knees with her back to the workstation, diligently sucking me off.

I have to say, the transition from the Divinity Rescue Corps operating as a cohesive unit to half the Divinity Rescue Corps willingly servicing me constantly was an unnervingly fast one.

So while Vellenia ground up some of the purple morpheus root and I chopped the stems up for another phase of the cure, Chrysta lay flat against the table nearby groaning and writhing in the afterglow of yet another furious session. The Pheromone-induced Adaptability slowly wore off, causing her to become more and more transparent, and the frost to spread further and further from her body.

Vellenia reached a hand over and stroked Chrysta’s face. “You did well!”

The ice ghost only smiled weakly before sliding to the floor in a heap. It took her another few minutes to recover and float off.

Some hours later, it was Tara’s turn, and Shakindria had to float several items away from her to keep her from knocking them off to shatter on the floor. Her dark blonde hair spilled out all over the workstation, and she kept her ankles locked tight around my waist.

It was some three or four minutes after I’d unloaded another huge load into her, and she still hadn’t let me go. Instead she got up on her elbows, big breasts still bare and nipples pointed at me, grinning lazily.

“This is hands down the best way to gain xp,” she announced. She’d asked me to order her; although it wasn’t a comfortable proposition, ordering a woman to have sex with me, she’d forced the issue. “Foraging for berries in the forest? Tracking and identifying new creatures? Navigating the terrain using a map? No way, I’d much rather it be Fletcher giving me a nice big present.”

Shakindria asked.

, I told her. Also Tara might not know that there was zero chance of fertilization. I hadn’t been brave enough to ask, which in a way was silly and in another way super irresponsible.

The Mindela’s big purple eyes widened a little, and regarded Tara in a new light.

She nodded and got to work. Finally Tara let me go and went to have a nap in my room with a still-napping Vellenia, who I’d had earlier.

Shakindria asked, while I took over the task I’d given her.

I asked in return, showing my confusion in my emotions.

She sent along a mental image with this, which caused me to throw my head back and bray honking laughter. This was a picture of Tara squatting down, her belly distended, and from between her legs she produced a large white egg. In her mind, Tara was squeezing out egg after egg  into a fur-lined nest, squatting not far from where Regina, Ivy and Isabelle were doing the same.

Ivy completely avoided coming to help me, which was actually a problem. I had not yet filled my entire bank of Tokens for all my attributes.

Isabelle came in to visit while I was in the midst of soaking up the purple morpheus in the bluegrass, stirring, and adding in the mana, radiating confusion. Eromancy told me she wasn’t sure what was going on and desired to know what problem she and Ivy were having.

“I can’t really…” I muttered, carefully extracting the pot of mixed flowers in oil to cool. “Bit busy here… but if Ivy also wants to come talk about it, you two are welcome to come.”

I was some 18 hours into the process when I earned the next level of Arcane Mender.

Level 28: +6 skill points, +1 Affinity

“That’s just what I needed,” I muttered, and set about spending points.

The first thing I needed was Transmutation. One skill point there. If I wanted to cast by instinct, I needed to first have the constructs figured out. It was a two-check process, I knew now.

Next, I needed more Develop Cure. One point for Large cure developments. After that, another point for Unique cure development.

Three left.

Instinctual Casting needed a point as well. After that, Mana Affinity said it would lower the cost of recalling the requirements for my spells, which included Transmutation. It also helped when I added mana to my herbal treatments and cures. One point there too, definitely.

And for my last point… I went

Now I needed 10 successes. I had 22 skill levels and an enhanced chance of success, but I’d done worse than 40% before.

I was about to start swearing when the message came up.

I let out a shaky breath, ignore the UI’s question about spending Durability Tokens to remain alert and awake, and sank to the ground.

Great big hands picked me up and brought me inside my house, then into my bedroom. She hardly fit. I watched as her head nearly skimmed the ceiling, and how she ducked low to get through the bedroom doorway.

Several yelps followed, as nude girls leapt out of my bed and scrambled for their clothing.

Larelle broadcast a calming message, and they all stared at the unfolding scene.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Larelle told me.

I went to tell her something else, but the softness of my pillow hit my head and I was sucked into unconsciousness.

***

When I woke it was, oddly enough, Tweedle Dee cuddling up to me and that was it. The little scamp had curled up on my chest and had been dozing, but the moment I let out my sigh, his head perked up and he let out a yip.

“Hello to you too, Dee,” I said. I felt tired, but otherwise amazing. This had been one of the best sleeps of my life.

After a couple of face licks I couldn’t defend against, since my arms were trapped under the blanket, Regina’s bond mate hopped off my head and scampered out the door.

The girls joined me later around the campfire. Ivy was still nowhere to be seen, and both Isabelle and Chrysta were on godwatch.

“We need to administer this cure,” Cinzy said. “Ivy and Larelle reported that our big guy is starting to come apart. More frequent vomiting, some mana surges that feel all wrong, more stumbling into buildings. He vomited up a sledge hammer, but your Nakamamon was there to telekinetically slap it into His body.”

“Uh… what? And also, her name is Shakindria and she’s incredible.”

The hammer was reabsorbed into the god. I shuddered and nodded at the news and the mental image. Gods were fracking metal.

“All right.”

The cure was ready. It had congealed into a paste that was thick with potent mana. You couldn’t get too close to it because it started turning you into a Nakamamon in a hurry. Touching it shot my mana up so high I took damage, which was perfect. I spent a Durability Token using Healer’s Resistance to gain some permanent resistance to it, before burning off some of the mana.

Then I touched it again.

“Ow!”

“What… are you doing?”

“Building up my Arcane damage resistance,” I said matter-of-factly. I got through all 6 of my Durability Tokens before I stopped. The typical gain was 3% permanent boost each time, though I sometimes got only 2% instead. The system made sense, only the way the English language made sense: the more you peered at it, the more the rules were more like guidelines.

With a 16% Arcane damage resistance and several doses of anti-magic, I set off with the girls.

“This needs to be applied to the chakra points,” I told them. “We need to smear liberally around the crown, the third eye, the heart, the guts, and somehow we need to get some around the, uh… taint… area.”

Snorts of laughter came with exasperated groans, followed closely by gasps of wonder. How in the hell were we going to pry up His holy jockstrap and smear this difficult-to-touch paste around a god’s holy dong, or around his holy butthole?

It was a question I couldn’t answer.

We had the cauldron hanging Chrysta and I, on a long wooden pole and strung across our shoulders.

“How are you feeling?”

“Drained,” she said. “This divinity poisoning is not to my liking.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Nonsense. It is my responsibility to get clear of the divine attacks… such as they are.”

“Well as your doctor, I advise you to be even more vigilant in the future.”

She gave me a thin-lipped smile that was half pain, and half reluctance to acknowledge how terrible my joke was.

“Let’s go heal this thing,” I said.

This is Christopher heroically leading the charge with a jar full of goo and a wooden spoon.