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“Hello? Oh, oh dear. Please wake up. I know my memory editing skills are rusty, but surely you’re intact. Hello?”

The soft, concerned words floated from down a long hallway, from across a chasm, a world over, or somewhere even farther. They bounced around in the recesses of her mind, and Zoey stirred.

Or tried to.

“Oh,” the soft exclamation of surprise came. “That’s it, you’ll be fine.” A series of gentle pats on her cheek, which Zoey only half felt. “Come on, now. What’s a little magical brain surgery, and dimensional travel? You’re a tough cookie. Why do you think I chose you?”

Zoey’s head lolled to the side, managing some miniscule form of movement, but still unable to open her eyes. She struggled from the fugue like a woman clawing from a pit of tar. The haze clung to her in sticky black strands, yanking her down as she tried desperately to pull herself to consciousness.

Several more pats on her cheek, sharper this time. Enough to leave a sting. “Up and at ‘em. We’ve things to discuss, sweetheart, and I’m a busy goddess.”

The words, and her stinging cheek, acted as the catalyst she needed. Zoey groaned, and her eyes fluttered open.

She stared into the warm, smiling face of an angel.

“There you are,” the achingly beautiful woman said, relief plain on her face. “Had me worried for a second, if I’m being honest.”

Even if Zoey hadn’t woken from what felt like a hundred-year nap, she wouldn’t have managed a more eloquent response than what stumbled out of her mouth.

“What?”

Enormous, white-feathered wings folded behind the woman’s back, as if her form, and dress, hadn’t been ethereal enough. Her inhumanity laid in plain sight, and Zoey meant that in the most flattering way possible. Humans had flaws. The creature in front of her did not. A flowing dress of diaphanous fabric draped from her shoulders and hips, so thin the woman might as well have been naked. Zoey could see everything. She might’ve blushed if not for how she stared dumbly, her brain failing to understand, even in part, what she was seeing.

“I realize you’re disoriented,” the woman said, “but that’s to be expected, so please don’t worry. Mortals aren’t built for interdimensional travel. I lent you some of my essence ... but mortals aren’t meant for that, either.” A laugh, light and airy, which stole Zoey’s breath, as everything about the woman did. “Trading big problems for smaller ones. What’s the life of the divine, if not that?”

“What?” Zoey repeated. She didn’t stutter this time, at least, though she would have preferred to come off marginally more composed. She tried again. “Where am I? Who are you?” Zoey looked around, tearing her gaze from the heavenly being in front of her, an action that burned an inexplicable instinct inside her, like she’d performed a great blasphemy for doing so.

It took a second to place where she was: somewhere she hadn’t been in forever. By the nostalgic plastic red chairs and single-unit wooden desks with cubbies underneath, she’d ended up at Riverwood Elementary. Miss Paulson’s 3rd grade science class, to be specific, identified by the back wall, where a diagram of the solar system expanded outward, each planet neatly labeled and sloppily drawn by her classmates. Zoey had been the one responsible for Mars. Being generous to herself, it was only mildly worse than the rest.

“The name I was given,” the woman said, surprising Zoey, who had been briefly startled from where she’d woken at, “is Ephythithys. But Ephy is fine, since I realize the former’s a mouthful.” She smiled. “For your first question ... I’m not sure. This place came from your memories.” She tapped a slim finger against her lips, looking around the room. “Somewhere important to you, I assume.”

“It’s ... Miss Paulson was my favorite teacher, growing up. And I liked science class ...” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Why am I here? What’s going on?” She tried to stand from Miss Paulson’s office chair, but she staggered in place, head swimming, then collapsed backward. She skidded a foot or so from the momentum, wheels squeaking loudly in the eerily silent classroom.

Ephy tutted at her. “I’ll explain, but don’t push yourself. You’re still weak from the trip.” Her hips swayed in an entrancing rhythm as she closed the gap.

Zoey took note, again, of how little her dress obscured her body.

Ephy ran a hand through Zoey’s hair, electrifying where her fingers traced. Zoey’s breath caught.

“But you’re here,” Ephy said, “because I have need of you.”

Zoey’s eyes flicked to Ephy’s practically naked chest, then lower, to her crotch, the blonde hair shaved in a cute heart, and finally back up. Zoey flushed, and Ephy laughed.

“Not in that way, though maybe if we had more time.” She tapped Zoey’s nose in a playfully scolding way. “Important matters first. Settle down.”

Every passing moment only confused Zoey further. Who this beautiful, inhuman woman was, why Zoey was here, and why she’d woken in her third grade science classroom. She racked her brain for how she’d ended up in this situation, and came up with little.

Too little. Her brow furrowed. She couldn’t remember anything.

Ephy sat in Zoey’s lap, then took her face in both hands. “Stay with me, darling. I’ll return your memories in time. I just didn’t want you to be distracted.”

Having the most gorgeous woman Zoey had ever seen seated across her lap, with a clear view of both her bare chest and crotch, weren’t circumstances that could be considered ‘distraction-free’. “Making that difficult,” she choked out. Even the bizarre claim that she’d ‘taken Zoey’s memories away’ had difficulty piercing that much more primitive interest.

Ephy laughed, then moved her hands from her cheeks upward, curling her fingers into Zoey’s short black hair. “As the goddess of sensuality, I’m afraid I can’t help myself. But you really ought to focus. What I have to say is,” her lips quirked, “rather relevant.”

Zoey could tell an understatement when she heard one.

“You need my help,” Zoey said. Attempting to puzzle anything out until she’d heard Ephy’s piece would, at a guess, be an exercise in futility. She forced herself to focus, to ignore Ephy’s warm weight pressing down on her lap, and the scalding proximity of their bodies.

Was the sitting-on-her-lap necessary?

Not that Zoey’s less evolved brain was complaining. Just, what was she supposed to do with her hands? Zoey assumed the touching was a one-way thing.

“I needed a champion,” Ephy said with a nod.

“For?” She ignored the absurdity of the statement; when faced with the already insane surroundings and circumstances she was in, the words digested easier than they should have.

“To save the world.”

A long pause.

“I’m sorry?”

“Not yours, I’m afraid.” Her lips quirked. “Or, pleased to reassure you? But one in the cluster I hold dominion.”

“Save the world,” Zoey repeated.

“And ascend while doing so,” Ephy said with a serious nod. “Though those are tall orders, each, and the second more than the first. But I have faith.”

Right.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” Zoey set aside the insanity of what was coming out of the supposed-goddess’s mouth.

“Lower end,” Ephy said sweetly. “But a champion of mine wields the best, and you didn’t specify.”

“How big is this thing?” Zoey stared down at the monster between her legs. It had to reach up to the base of her breasts, if she leaned over. Breasts which were now three times the size they’d been before ... though that only put her somewhere in the upper range of ‘busty’, because she hadn’t had much to write home about, before.

“Hm,” Ephy said. “I’d guess ... between twelve and fourteen inches?”

Fourteen inches! What the hell? “It won’t even fit!”

“I’m not that mean,” Ephy scoffed. “It’ll fit. You’ll just have to figure out how your runes work.”

“Runes?”

“Down the road,” Ephy said with a wave of her hand. “Once you’ve landed in the Fractures. Character creation, remember? Your body’s done, so now, class.”

Zoey hadn’t remotely had enough time to come to terms with her body—which, while resembling her old one, was changed in every way—but Ephy pushed forward with enthusiasm, not giving her an opportunity to reel.

Maybe that was the point.

“Three choices. Charmer, Siphon, and Bonder.”

It took all of Zoey’s effort to focus on the question, and not least because the addition between her legs was even more interested in Ephy’s naked form than Zoey had already been, and she’d been exceedingly interested as things stood. It twitched of its own accord, and Zoey fought the excruciating urge for her hands to go to it, to grip and stroke to relieve the pulsating ache.

Why the hell was it so intense? Were all cocks this sensitive?

“What’s the difference?” Zoey struggled out.

Ephy seemed aware, and amused, by her plight. She sashayed over, then sat on Zoey’s lap. Zoey let out a little groan at the way her cock pressed into Ephy’s stomach. “Well,” Ephy said, “like I said, they’re all derivatives of powers I can offer you as the goddess of seduction. But they’re different, yes.”

“I thought you said goddess of sensuality,” Zoey groaned, fighting against the urge to buck her hips, gain purchase against Ephy’s soft stomach. “And eroticism.”

Ephy leaned forward, and whispered into Zoey’s ear. “Well. I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Stop,” she gasped, “stop teasing. Why is this so, mmm, intense?”

“Yours is more sensitive than most. Only the best, for champions of Ephythithys.” Ephy slid her hips forward, grinding the paper-thin cloth between the two of their crotches. Her lower lips parted into Zoey’s shaft, sliding up and down her length.

Zoey’s mind flashed white, cock pulsing hard. A foreign urge slammed into her: to grab Ephy by the hips, to shove her to the floor, and bury herself as deep as she could, to piston and jerk until she expended a convulsing cock’s worth of hot, sticky seed into Ephy’s fertile womb.

C-Christ. Where the hell did that come from?

“How generous of you,” Zoey said breathlessly. “And so much for avoiding ‘distractions’.”

Ephy laughed, probably knowing what was happening inside Zoey’s head, and inside her twitching cock. “You’ll have plenty of relief, down in the Fractures. But I’m afraid, none from me.” Ephy leaned back then flicked the tip of Zoey’s dick, which thrilled a lightning bolt of pleasure through her.

“What happened to being in a rush?” Zoey ground out. “Seems to me you have plenty of time, if you’re teasing like this.”

Ephy laughed. “Oops. I guess you’re right. Didn’t notice ... it’s in my nature, okay? Classes. I’ll summarize each, but keep in mind nuance is lost in brevity. So. Charmer. Influence people’s minds, or those of creatures. Siphon, take other’s power for your own. And Bonder.” Ephy huffed. “For the gross, gooey romantics. Share yourself with others, and grow with them.” Ephy sighed. “I have a feeling what you’re going to choose, and I’m not happy about it.”

“Charmer sounds ... troubling.”

“Sensuality cares little for consent,” Ephy said with an uncaring shrug. “Don’t mistake me for something I’m not.”

Zoey paused, the frankness catching her off guard.

“ ... Bonder,” she eventually said. If she was being forced into this—whatever ‘this’ was—then she’d be taking the least troubling ‘class’.

“Shocking,” Ephy said with a roll of her eyes. “I hope your time down in the Fractures gives you some ... adventurous spirit. But results are all I’m after, so, so be it. Be a gross romantic, if you want.” Ephy leaned forward, and Zoey whimpered at the way Ephy’s crotch pushed into her throbbing member. “One last choice. Your discipline. A craft, to go with your class. Engraver, alchemist, or blacksmith?”

“And each of these relate to your ... mmm ... mantle as a goddess, I’m assuming?”

“It’s almost like you pay attention.”

“So an alchemist would brew potions relating to ...”

“All manners of wicked, pleasurable delights,” Ephy grinned. Then, sobering, “And more practical matters, in the same way your class will be functional. Saving the world isn’t all conquest of tight, nubile bodies, unfortunately. Those are just stepping stones along the way.”

“Right.” Ephy had a way with words, Zoey was finding out. “They’re what they sound like?”

Ephy nodded.

“Then ... alchemist?” There was an appeal to the craft that called to her, though the concept of the other two were fascinating as well. It had been a harder choice than her class.

“Perfect,” Ephy said. “That’s it, then. I’ll send you on your way.”

Zoey blinked rapidly. “But you haven’t told me what I’m supposed to do.”

“Didn’t I? Save the world. Oh, and don’t mention me, or your ... home. That could complicate things.”

“‘Save the world’? That’s—that’s so unhelpful. What does that even mean?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Ephy said, patting her cheek for the fourth or fifth time, and this time, it was condescending, rather than comforting. “Stop being a baby. Are you ready?”

“Not remotely—!”

And then she was gone.