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It takes you a good long while to recover from the most powerful orgasm you experienced in your life. Even the pleasure of the Divine Beast running a train on you, fucking you nonstop with his aphrodisiac laden cock for weeks on end falls a bit short. Though your certain that if you did not have such an experience in your past, the pleasure of the Divine Spear's touch would have left you more than just a squirting, shameful mess. That much raw, erotic pleasure could shatter the minds of those who are not prepared for it. The sort of pleasure that turns strong willed women into feebleminded slut that exist only to cum.
You've seen it before, from those who treat sex and the erotic pleasures lightly.
Foolish girl Children of the Gymnasium who heard of the pleasures the Divine Beast could bring, and snuck past the Servitor Orbs who guarded his chambers to experience it for themselves. Without the proper training, without submerging themselves in the pleasures of the flesh and becoming used to its intensity, the stimulation the Divine Beast could bring them was too much for their minds to handle.
They say you take sex too lightly, tempting boys with your body and seeking to taste as many as would let you, but all you have ever done was in accordance with the teachings of the Daughters of Irminsul. Pleasure brings peace. If everyone could simply bask eternally in the afterglow of a good fucking, there would be no war. The ones who took sex too lightly are the ones who thought whatever natural talents they had in the bedchamber would carry them through an impromptu Rite of Implantation without harm.
You knew a foolish Child like that, a songstress who thought your order to be little more than the whores of an ostentatious brothel pretending to be a temple. She snuck away in the middle of night to receive the Divine Beast's gift of pleasure and power.
Her mind gave way well before dawn.
She received a partial Divine Gift, but last you knew she was still putting together the pieces of her pleasure-broken mind sixty years later.
The pleasure you experienced just now, when the spirit of the Lust Spear Shamhat ordered you to cum, was at least twice as intense as the strongest orgasm the Divine Beast ever gave you during your ceremonial deflowering. The sort of pleasure that should not be taken lightly. The evidence of its intensity has been sprayed all over the crypt, the nectar of your flower splattering the floor and Helen's Tree and making the whole place smell like a whorehouse. It is of such a volume that it pools upon the uneven floor to nearly an inch deep.
The face upon Helen's Tree - if you can call it a proper face - has an expression of amused understanding, the sort of closed-eyed flat smile that you would give to someone who repeated your own foolishness. Her branch curls, and points towards a well of pure waters touched by the light of the sun above, from which you drink deeply to help yourself recover from such an explosive orgasm.
