Gratitude

Frey Beholders beware, there are no safe words As the girl prattled on, Frey grew visibly more and more distracted. Honestly, while these mortals didn’t technically exist to entertain the gods (though they should) that didn’t mean they had to be so boring and dumb. It seemed the aphrodisiacs were the only offerings the deity was going to get today. Phoebe was a real mood killer, and they already felt their interest waning. ”Ugh. Boring. Apologies are boring. Uncertainty is boring. Insecurities are boringgggggggg. I don’t care about your pity party.” They yawned, covering their mouth with a languid hand, and then propped themselves up on one elbow, giving her an annoyed look. ”Word of advice, sweetheart? And from me, this is literally gospel. You don’t need love for lust, and vice versa, but there is nothing wrong with a good roll in the hay. And you can still maintain your innocence and purity and have perfectly fine, albeit vanilla sex, you know. It’s medicinal, practically, and as a midwife you should know all about that, shouldn’t you?” They winked. Oh yes, Frey knew all about Phoebe’s profession. While she was an open book to them, childbirth required something that Frey knew all about. They weren’t the parenting or the relationship type, obviously, but the birds and the bees and all that was definitely in their wheelhouse. ”It would do you in particular a world of good to have a good fuck.” While the explicit language might shock her, Frey thought mortals were a bit silly about their chastity. It was necessary for reproduction (and one of the biggest sources of pleasure people could have) so there was no good reason to cut it off because of meaningless ‘morals’ or ‘customs.’ Flopping on their back, they popped another grape in their mouth, closing their eyes in ecstasy. When they opened them they smirked at the girl, running their gaze up and down her body. ”You’re young, you’re fit, and you’re perfectly attractive. Only thing wrong with you is you’re stuck up about sex and you don’t put yourself out there.” Their words dripped with a mix of mocking condescension, passion, and boredom. Then again, Frey was more than convinced that Phoebe was a bit of an idiot, to have come pray here to this particular deity without being willing to be open to the idea of some fun. But alas, it seemed this crop of people was just as silly as the previous generations. Disappointing, really. And they kept getting Frey wrong. Honestly, this whole nonsense was getting quite tiresome. That was making the god quite cross. ”I don’t take the unwilling.” Rolling their eyes, they waved their hand in the air. ”Willing, kinky, and pleasurable, yes. But it’s as clear as day, especially to me, that you’re not ready.” Giving her a calculated look, Frey decided to make a gamble. It almost certainly wouldn’t pay off, but they were a being of power, so they could afford it. ”But if you go out there and show me I’m wrong, maybe I’ll think of some suitable reward.” If not, if Phoebe didn’t want that (which, given their interactions to date, she wouldn’t), then Frey didn’t really know what was keeping them here. But the degree of repression in the woman was remarkable, and it grated on Frey’s nerves. Any chance the deity could take to intervene and make improvements in Phoebe’s life (and, by extension, make this child into a potential lifelong follower), the better. But it would never work if she didn’t go out there and screw someone’s brains out.