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Before and even after the Bishops of the Old Faith sought to seal him away. But through the Lamb, The One Who Waits would regain his power and take vengeance on the bishops, his former brethren in faith, and reclaim his status as the one true god...[/i]\n\n[i]But in his hubris, he neglected the possibility of the Lamb's betrayal. A Lamb, still fearing for their own life, and still enraged by the lost of their own kin, all for this god's vendetta. The Lamb raised their blade and struck down their God. Claiming the power of the Red Crown for themselves, and becoming the cults new god. The Lamb Who Shepherds...[/i]\n\n[i]As The Lamb came close to Narinder, formally The One Who Waits, now stripped of their power, he curses the Lamb endlessly, expecting to meet his end by the Lamb's blade once and for all. But the Lamb laid down their blade. Instead they warped the old god back toe their congregation, as the newest member of the cult. One that the Lamb had special plans for...[/i]\n\n[i]Narinder would soon find his body transformed by the magic of his old crown. One more, soft, thicker, and more feminine. The Lamb approached the newly curvaceous cat, filled with a sense of tenderness, yet maddening lust...[/i]\n\n[i]\"May your form be reborn anew. One who bears the gift of life, to atone for your sins as a god of death.\" [/i]\n\n[i]Narinder struggles and lashes out as much as they can, being bound by both shackles formed by the crown, and the Lamb's firm embrace. Feeling something poke between their new curvy thighs. The Lamb has used the power of the crown to morph their own body as well. A dark, throbbing, pulsating shaft, dripping of eldritch fluid, and heavy with a maddening scent. As much as the feline heretic tried to resist, their mind would be lost in a haze of cardinal desire and heat. This ritual would last hours, to maybe even days. The flow of time was lost to them both for this moment. As Narinder, now bloated with the fertile ichor of the Lamb, their mind currently in flux. Thoughts of malice and rage against this pervert of a Lamb, yet craving more of the Lamb's cardinal love. This would become a regular ritual for the Lamb, and the former god...[/i]\n\n[i]1 year later....[/i]\n\n[i]Much has happened, as the Lamb sought to grow their flock both with new recruits from the lands of the old faith, and even from within, as a new generation of lambs started to grow, all children of the Lamb Who Shepherds. All raised equally amongst the young of the congregation as their own, with the love and discipline the cult has come to foster for their village. The Lamb has bred with practically everyone in the village for this new generation, but their favorite of course to mate with is their loving wife. Once a vengeful god of death, now reborn as Narinda, The Life Bearer. A goddess of fertility and wisdom, blessing the cult with bountiful harvests, and sage knowledge of the lands, so that the flock may prosper....[/i]\n\n[i]\"What a joke...\" the cat thought to herself. [/i]\n\n[i]That damned perverted lamb bloats her with seed every day. Parading Narinda's heavy and gravid form around the village so that they may receive \"blessings\" on their crops and their family. It's a miracle that some of these pregnancies could even leave Narida light enough to walk on her own. Too often her womb would be so heavy with new flocks of sheep, cats, and hybrids in between, Narinda could do little but lay resting her back upright, less her frame crush the rest of her body. Cursed with a necklace with offers no need for rest. Nothing more than a breeding farm for that damned lamb trying to bring back their kin from the brink of extinction. And every day that Lamb taunts her, talking down to me as a doddering wife. Expressing their \"love\" of her and her \"faithful\" devotion to them. All lies to veil their lust and control over her. [/i]\n\n[i]Still, the maidens the Lamb has assigned to her weren't too bad. Also being foolish enough to gift Narinda with a ring made of the crown's power to construct tools for menial tasks, but not foolish enough to put fail safes on it to prevent it from ever being used against the Lamb. Nothing could ever make Narinda ever accept the Lamb as their god... But their children. The fruit of their corrupted union... Narinda could not harbor any malice towards them. Like us all, they had no control over what brought them into the world. As annoying as they can be, their joy and purity seem to be enough to calm hatred in her heart. Narinda could never be sure if she'll be 'happy\" with this life, but maybe, just content. Could be worse after all she ponders.[/i] \n\nThis is loosely based of a dojin of Cult of the Lamb I saw, and just wanted to do some more COTL art in general honestly. Enjoy. ^w^\n\n[url=http://www.postybirb.com]Posted using PostyBirb[/url]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Narinder...

The One Who Waits...

Once a name feared an worshipped in the old land. Before and even after the Bishops of the Old Faith sought to seal him away.  But through the Lamb, The One Who Waits would regain his power and take vengeance on the bishops, his former brethren in faith, and reclaim his status as the one true god...

But in his hubris, he neglected the possibility of the Lamb's betrayal.  A Lamb, still fearing for their own life, and still enraged by the lost of their own kin, all for this god's vendetta.  The Lamb raised their blade and struck down their God.  Claiming the power of the Red Crown for themselves, and becoming the cults new god.  The Lamb Who Shepherds...

As The Lamb came close to Narinder, formally The One Who Waits, now stripped of their power, he curses the Lamb endlessly, expecting to meet his end by the Lamb's blade once and for all.  But the Lamb laid down their blade.  Instead they warped the old god back toe their congregation, as the newest member of the cult.  One that the Lamb had special plans for...

Narinder would soon find his body transformed by the magic of his old crown.  One more, soft, thicker, and more feminine.  The Lamb approached the newly curvaceous cat, filled with a sense of tenderness, yet maddening lust...

"May your form be reborn anew.  One who bears the gift of life, to atone for your sins as a god of death."  

Narinder struggles and lashes out as much as they can, being bound by both shackles formed by the crown, and the Lamb's firm embrace.  Feeling something poke between their new curvy thighs.  The Lamb has used the power of the crown to morph their own body as well.  A dark, throbbing, pulsating shaft, dripping of eldritch fluid, and heavy with a maddening scent.  As much as the feline heretic tried to resist, their mind would be lost in a haze of cardinal desire and heat.  This ritual would last hours, to maybe even days.  The flow of time was lost to them both for this moment.  As Narinder, now bloated with the fertile ichor of the Lamb, their mind currently in flux.  Thoughts of malice and rage against this pervert of a Lamb, yet craving more of the Lamb's cardinal love.  This would become a regular ritual for the Lamb, and the former god...

1 year later....

Much has happened, as the Lamb sought to grow their flock both with new recruits from the lands of the old faith, and even from within, as a new generation of lambs started to grow, all children of the Lamb Who Shepherds.  All raised equally amongst the young of the congregation as their own, with the love and discipline the cult has come to foster for their village.  The Lamb has bred with practically everyone in the village for this new generation, but their favorite of course to mate with is their loving wife.  Once a vengeful god of death, now reborn as Narinda, The Life Bearer.   A goddess of fertility and wisdom, blessing the cult with bountiful harvests, and sage knowledge of the lands, so that the flock may prosper....

"What a joke..." the cat thought to herself.  

That damned perverted lamb bloats her with seed every day.  Parading Narinda's heavy and gravid form around the village so that they may receive "blessings" on their crops and their family.  It's a miracle that some of these pregnancies could even leave Narida light enough to walk on her own.  Too often her womb would be so heavy with new flocks of sheep, cats, and hybrids in between, Narinda could do little but lay resting her back upright, less her frame crush the rest of her body.  Cursed with a necklace with offers no need for rest.  Nothing more than a breeding farm for that damned lamb trying to bring back their kin from the brink of extinction.  And every day that Lamb taunts her, talking down to me as a doddering wife.  Expressing their "love" of her and her "faithful" devotion to them.  All lies to veil their lust and control over her.  

Still, the maidens the Lamb has assigned to her weren't too bad.  Also being foolish enough to gift Narinda with a ring made of the crown's power to construct tools for menial tasks, but not foolish enough to put fail safes on it to prevent it from ever being used against the Lamb.  Nothing could ever make Narinda ever accept the Lamb as their god...  But their children.  The fruit of their corrupted union... Narinda could not harbor any malice towards them.  Like us all, they had no control over what brought them into the world.  As annoying as they can be, their joy and purity seem to be enough to calm hatred in her heart.  Narinda could never be sure if she'll be 'happy" with this life, but maybe, just content.   Could be worse after all she ponders.  

This is loosely based of a dojin of Cult of the Lamb I saw, and just wanted to do some more COTL art in general honestly.  Enjoy.  ^w^

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