Founding a Religion: The Converted Holy City

Nazca was a city-state that took its faith dead seriously.

Just as Sidon, the great commercial hub, funneled gold into the coffers of its allies, Nazca — the religious heart of the region — offered faith to anyone who earned its friendship. Of course, at the moment they were in no position to give anyone anything. They were the ones who needed saving.

"Just fifteen hundred gold a year! You religious types don't even need money, right?"

The chieftain of the Kun — a barbarian tribe that had already raided Nazca three times in the past year — was making yet another outrageous demand. Last time they had gone so far as to steal the sacred relics housed in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the temple itself. Were they treating Nazca as a vassal state now?

It stung her pride, but Nazca had no strength left to fight. They had never been a martial city-state to begin with, and after so many raids they no longer even had the treasury to keep an army in the field.

Miya, priestess and queen of Nazca, finally bowed her head.

"Fine... I'll find the money somehow. Just stop defiling the temple."

"Heeheehee! That's what I like about you, big-ass sister — you make decisions fast!"

A plump, bouncy ass. That might have been a compliment to some modern woman obsessed with Pilates, but to the women of Nazca in this world of History, it was racial slander.

"......"

That damn beautiful-girl patch was the problem. Nazca's women, true to their Latin blood, developed extraordinary asses the instant puberty hit — and that early ripening had become a punchline. It was nothing they should have been ashamed of. But Greek merchants passing through the city had started trading jokes like How come these broke bitches who can barely feed themselves have such fat rumps?, and before long slurs like "ass-girl" and "Nazca back-pocket" had hardened into the local shorthand for discrimination.

"O Cloud God, I beg you — send rain upon Nazca—"

Even after the barbarians had humiliated her, Miya still prayed to her god. Their national power was so weak they were getting shaken down by savages, but if she, the high priestess, could just soothe the heavens, a miracle would surely come. That was how a holy city like Nazca survived.

If she could end the drought with a rain ritual... if her people recovered enough to raise walls around the city and take up spears... then perhaps the noble women of Nazca would never again have to hear some barbarian call them duck-ass bitches.

But even if the Cloud God came through in the end, the problem was right now. Greece had decided to cut ties with Nazca for worshipping a native religion instead of the goddess Athena, and without Greek military support, Miya's strategy of simply enduring was meaningless.

"Those Greek tit-cows... there's a limit to how rude you can be!"

Athena of Greece and the Cloud God of Nazca both lived in the sky — so why this discrimination? The day Helen announced the severance, Miya regretted every scrap of faith her temples had ever shared with Greece.

"You're throwing us away like a worn-out sandal...? You said you'd protect us until Nazca built a new temple!!"

Her legs trembling with betrayal, Miya collapsed mid-ritual and landed hard on her ass. The airbags around her womb were so generously padded that the physical pain was negligible —

"Ahh... so you've abandoned us too."

Being forsaken by the Cloud God she had served all her life made her chest seize tight. Miya performed the rain ritual for three days without sleep. The pitiless sky did not send a single drop.

Of course... why would He answer a paltry rain dance from a temple that's been stripped of everything?

What meaning did a holy city have once its god had left? Having failed as both queen and priestess, Miya locked herself in the palace for a long while.

Then it started.

Wobble — whooooble!!

Nobody could say exactly when, but a twerking craze swept through Nazca. The local women had always performed "sacred dances" when offering tribute to the Cloud God, but the dance spreading through the city now was far too vulgar, far too obscene, to call a religious rite.

Never mind the sight of them standing with their legs spread wide, shaking their asses... the words coming out of their mouths were shamelessly, thoroughly female. If the sacred Cloud God had heard them, He would have flooded the city. The lyrics were that crude. That filthy.

"Shake your ass wild on top of Lord Cock... and forget all your suffering... haaah ♥"

"Nngh-hhh! Please fill this hardworking breeding-bitch with your white blessing, Lord Cooock!!"

That was when Miya realized this was not a fad. It was a religion.

As more time passed, the followers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of this primitive faith began erecting giant phallus statues all over the city, and they twerked around those towering monuments day and night without rest. The religion was called Phallus Worship, and when Miya learned that its birthplace was Sparta, she nearly fell over in shock.

Good heavens... Greek women worship a god this vulgar?!

Only later did she discover that Sparta's true power behind the throne was not Queen Nike, but her father(?), Han Min-guk. Apparently that Hannam was the founder of this crude religion. According to the fanatics, the giant phallus statues were modeled after his erect cock.

But thinking about it now... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worshipping a phallus was still better than serving the Olympian goddess Helen had tried to force on them. Unlike the Greek religion, which obsessed over pompous ceremony, Phallus Worship emphasized collective ecstasy and trance. The Cloud God Miya had once served had also valued action over theory. Perhaps that similarity was why the citizens had accepted this new faith without much resistance.

"It's a little startling, but... my people look genuinely happy when they're shaking their asses in front of those statues."

Miya gradually opened her heart. The superstition had already spread too far to stop anyway. The high priestess of Nazca began to look at Phallus Worship with different eyes. Perhaps she had found a new hope.

Her chest fluttering with an excitement she hadn't felt in a long time, she set aside her prejudices and tried talking to the believers.

"Why abandon the god of the heavens to worship a man's erect cock?"

"Hooo! The Cloud God only saves Nazca if we offer Him rare treasures... but Lord Cock unconditionally adores any female who shakes her ass well. That's why we revere Him, Your Majesty!"

It was an answer Miya had never expected. She had every right to be stunned. She had never once considered that religion might not be about begging an all-powerful god for mercy — that it could be a rite in which the believer received warm love from the absolute.

"A god who loves every female...? As long as she climbs onto a hard cock and grinds well?"

After everything — the barbarian raids, the drought — Miya wanted comfort too. Bearing the politics and the faith of an entire city-state was exhausting work.

"So I just... shake my ass in front of this erect-cock statue?"

In the end, Miya decided to give phallus worship a try, if only to see. What if the power that would save Nazca didn't descend from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sky to the earth... but surged from the earth toward the sky?

Nothing was certain yet. After being branded a heretic by Greece so many times, she hesitated to adopt a religion with such a wild streak.

Wobble, wobble... wobble...?

But the moment Miya found the courage to twerk, the high priestess of Nazca experienced a mystical revelation that washed every stale emotion clean. It was the moment she believed in a god again.

Miya couldn't see the status window, but she knew how to feel grace with her body.

"Haaahn ♥ Just from watching the swing of my ass... Lord Cock has blessed meee..."

No actual cock had entered her pussy, and yet she felt as though she'd been impregnated. A miracle beyond words — the hollow insides of a lost, fragile female filling with dazzling light.

Wobble-woooobble—!!

In the end, Miya began shaking her ass even harder, even more obscenely. As her cheeks rippled she stripped off every cumbersome garment and ornament, and eventually even her panties — she couldn't stand the sweat pooling in her pussy while she twerked.

"Lord Cock, You can just lie there!! Shoving a massive erect cock into my pussy and bouncing my a-ass up and down is what Miya does beeeest?!!"

"Please dump a whole load of blessing inside Miya's cunt, Lord Cooock... ♥ Move the seed from Your cock into my womb... and let me birth a daughter who'll shake her ass and worship You just like I do, pleaseee—?!"

Before the tallest, straightest phallus statue in the city, the high priestess of Nazca put on a display too shameful to watch with open eyes. Lost in trance, Miya only came back to her senses much later. The afterglow remained.

She had shaken her ass so violently that the pussy-juice she'd leaked had pooled on the ground in a puddle. It was the moment the queen of Nazca was reborn as a new kind of female.

"I have to meet Him!"

Barbarians who lived for plunder. Greeks for whom betrayal was routine. The innocent females of Nazca suffered because of those villains. This world was cruel beyond measure. And yet Miya had seen a sliver of hope.

Han Min-guk was the great man who would save Nazca from this brutal world. Further investigation revealed that the founder of Phallus Worship was the rising monarch of a civilization on the ascent. A man with that kind of power would wipe out a few barbarians without breaking a sweat.

"O hard and righteous Lord Cock... we who shake our asses all day thinking of nothing but being impaled on You... this city where those women have raised countless phallus statues...!"

Please save Nazca.

Only after her final twerk did Miya pull her panties back over her pussy. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but her breeding-hole had been drooling so much honey that the undergarment was already soaked through.

"Haaahn ♥ These perverted believers who get this wet just imagining a phallus—"

Even Lord Cock couldn't possibly ignore them. Of that, Miya was certain. After asking around, she was finally able to send an envoy to the place where "High Priest" Han Min-guk resided.

Nazca, the holy city founded by Latin women with famously developed rumps.

The moment I received Queen Miya's plea for help, I set out at once. I arrived in Nazca with Hyo-jung — that strategist girl who assists me — and an elite legion of Hoplites fresh from the brutal training grounds of Sparta.

"Ahh... You truly came! I, Miya — queen of Nazca and high priestess of Phallus Worship — have not a shred of doubt that Lord Cock's female-conquering rod will save us all ♥"

High Priestess Miya's wavy black hair was captivating. But a female's highlight was still... that luscious ass, so generous you could see the sides of it even from the front.

She was still a virgin, and yet this lewd demon who already worshipped the phallus was clearly drunk on the fantasy of getting railed from behind by my cock.