Meant for More (Preview)

We'll see how this one goes. I haven't covered faith as a topic at all, nor have I really fully told a proper corruption story. So Meant for More will be an attempt to scratch that itch a little bit. Enjoy!

"This was certainly an unusual occurrence, as Dorothea stepped into the innocuous knickknack shop. She didn’t remember a place like this existing the last time she had wandered away from the monastery, but it was a wonderful curiosity to distract the nun from her troubling thoughts. The items out on display didn’t seem to have price tags, so perhaps you needed to barter the price with the owner?
The curious nun's crystal blue eyes scanned the store, falling upon a woman the very sight of made her blush from a mixture of things. She was there at the counter, a wide witch’s cap settled on her head like she had fallen out of a children’s fairy tale. Short red locks framed her face, making her golden eyes stand out like proper treasures. One’s gaze did not rest on her face long, as the woman sat leaning an impressive bust over her forearms, as she read from something on her counter.
Dorothea found herself swallowing thickly. If the woman was indeed a witch then was it acceptable for the nun to associate with her? “I don’t bite,” the golden eyed witch teased, turning those lustrous orbs up at her, “Unless you ask me to of course,” she added with a mischievous grin.
She found herself blushing in response. The way the witchy woman was looking at her was like she could see right through her habit to her body underneath. It was unsettling to say the least, making the chaste woman rest her arms in front of herself in an attempt to conceal her body. “I would rather prefer you didn’t madam,” she stated calmly.
The redhead gave a giggle, shimmying her shoulders and drawing her customer’s blue eyes to the way her chest swayed temptingly. “Awe. You seem like you’d be pretty tasty though,” she continued to tease, licking her ruby painted lips. Her arms pulled out from under her bust, forming a bridge for her to rest her chin in, “Welcome to Madam Materia’s Magical Menagerie. I'm the titular Madam herself, though Matty is fine for customers,” she explained with a wink, “Or you can just keep calling me Madam.”
Magic? So the woman was some sort of heathen. Her blue eyes returned to the shelves, a sudden middling fear washing over her at the Devil’s tools. Though such fear only served as further fuel for her own curiosity.
She cleared her throat though, shaking her head. “There is no such thing as magic,” she informed the woman matter of factly.
Materia simply giggled, resting a delicate hand over her mouth to hide her playful smirk. “Well, I guess I'm out of a job then, aren’t I?” she joked, rising from her seat and stepping around the counter on her spatted heels.
The redhead demanded attention with her presence, Dorothea's eyes coming back around and watching the way her every curve moved sinuously. She was not ashamed of such a display either, carrying herself with a pride that sparked a jealousy in the nun. To admit such sinful thoughts though would not be proper. She was brought up better than that.
“Losing faith tasty?” the golden eyed witch asked, striking the nail firmly on the head.
The nun's face went flush, and she turned her back to the witch to hide the effect she was having on her. “I’ve said no such thing,” she replied, though the statement was fanning the embers of doubt that had been smouldering at the back of her mind.
This outing was supposed to quell such temptation within her. In the months since her nineteenth birthday she had been feeling… there were not words for it other than lost. She had grown up in the monastery, with the nuns raising her to be a proper woman. As of late though, she had noticed things about herself.
She was beautiful. Beneath her habit the fair faced woman had the blooming body of a goddess. Long golden blonde hair, plump, pert breasts, a flat tummy, flared round hips with an, as the witch had remarked, tasty rear. More and more she was catching the eye of men, and even some misguided women, and she couldn’t keep denying to herself; she liked it.
The redheaded Madam chuckled at the reaction, “You didn’t have to. You’re as easy to read as a children’s book,” she told the blushing blonde.
Was she really that obvious? Did the other nuns see it in her too? “I’ve lived my whole life in service to God,” she said, as if to strengthen her own resolve.
A small smirk crossed the witch’s ruby lips, “All the more reason you want to see if there’s more out there than being a servant to the divine,” she purred, further stoking the fires of doubt in the blonde.
The clacking of the witch’s heels drew closer, as with a dip the redhead and her golden eyes popped back into her vision. “Just look at me,” she smiled, “Wearing myself on display. Proud of my charm, my sexuality,” she teased, wiggling her shoulders once again for the girl, “I’ve found where I'm the one thing that matters. Happy,” she finished, letting her gaze drift slowly up the blonde until their eyes met.
Her crystal blues turned away with a blush at that. The witch knew just where to slip in her sharp words to cut deep. “Pride is a sin,” Dorothea told the woman, struggling to keep her defenses up.
“Why?” the redhead asked earnestly, straightening and wandering to her shelves. “Because someone else told you so? Someone jealous of your natural beauty told you you needed to be ashamed of it?” she suggested innocently, as her painted fingertips caressed over some of her treasures.
The redness in the blonde’s cheeks deepened. How was she consistently right? The girl nervously rubbed the back of her hand, recalling the brutal whip of the ruler against her knuckles when she’d been caught letting her self value get out of hand. Self-esteem and self-respect were good, but they could become arrogance and hubris if left unchecked.
Those delicate fingers took up an item, a simple hand mirror, bringing it over to the nun. “Isn’t jealousy a greater sin?” she asked, turning the reflective surface to the blonde’s face.
She had seen her reflection before, but never had it taken her breath away quite like this. The woman looking back at her was positively radiant. She wasn’t wearing her veil, letting her golden locks fall over her shoulders and frame the soft beauty of her face. Her crystal eyes seemed to sparkle, done up with the lightest amount of makeup that made them seem to pop, and her soft pink lips shone with a thin gloss.
Dorothea had to check to make sure it was even real, reaching up to make sure her headdress was still in place and seeing the better version on herself mirror the action. “What is this?” she gasped, reaching out and taking the mirror in her hands.
“Magic,” the witch answered simply. “A little glimpse of potential, what you could be like if you submitted to those desires you have tasty,” she teased with a little wink.
The nun paused, looking into her reflection. Wasn’t this how the Devil worked, by offering temptation? Still she couldn’t bring herself to outright refuse it. “Just a glimpse?” she inquired.
The hook was baited. Materia slid in, resting her arm across the blonde’s shoulders. “Maybe a bit more tasty,” she purred.
With her so close Dorothea could see the redhead’s reflection in the small mirror. Her face was inhuman; a long narrow vulpine muzzle, blondish fur covering every inch of her. Was that the witch’s potential, or something else?
“You’ll just have to see for yourself though,” she teased, slipping away back towards her counter.
The nun swallowed heavily, locked once more with her radiant reflection. It couldn’t hurt just to glimpse, to sate some of her curiosity. “How much are you asking for it?” she asked, pulling it to her chest and turning to watch the sensual sway of the redhead’s hips.
The woman simply held up her hand, fingers curled into a nice fat zero. “I don’t take money,” she told the woman, as she turned a smile over her shoulder. “I just like seeing people like yourself happy tasty.”" - "Meant for More" by Madam Materia