Rat Gets Religion
Fuck, but I hate these little jerkwater towns! I'm trying to have a quiet drink in a tavern (it was the only one in town-- NEVER a good sign) when this three-toothed wonder thinks his primitive courtship rituals would interest me. I mean, he actually SAT DOWN NEXT TO ME and said, "Hi Xena!"
I mean, really. I've SEEN Xena. I don't look even remotely like her. I mean, OK, we've both got blue eyes, but...
Xena: Tall, flowing dark hair, muscular, buxom, wears that skimpy leather getup, high-profile, runs around with a mouthy blonde chickMe: Short, spiky-short red hair, skinny-wiry, about as buxom as a fourteen year old BOY, currently sporting a rather threadbare linen ensemble, deliberately obscure, and I don't care how nimble that little blonde's tongue supposedly is, I travel ALONE.
But apparently in Bomipholis, any chick with a sword is automatically "Xena". I ignored him, hoping he'd get bored and leave. No such luck. I guess you have to actually POSSESS a mind before you can be bored out of it. So I swigged down the last of my (strictly mediocre) wine and headed out into the night.
This apparently wasn't a clear enough message for farm-boy. He got up and followed me. Just frigging great.
Well, this sucked. Not that I objected to kicking some ass when the situation called for it, but this was just a headache. Maybe I could just keep ignoring him.
Yeah, riiiiiiiiiiiight. I quickened my step. He quickened his step. Fuck fuck fuck. No way I was gonna run from this dork. Looks like an ass kicking was in the cards. I slowed my pace and waited for the jerk to catch up-- I really wanted to get this bullshit over with.
It didn't take long. In a few moments I felt a clumsy arm awkwardly reach around my waist. His breath ruffled my hair.
"Hey pretty lady", he muttered. "Alone at last, huh?"
I jerked away from him, and he made a rough grab for my arm. Wrong move, asshole--I punched him. He was taller than I'd realized, and my blow hit him in the throat, rather than in the face (as I'd intended). I felt his larynx shatter. Oooo--didn't mean to hit him THAT hard!
He stopped flat in his tracks, clutching at a medallion at his throat. He wasn't breathing. Shit. He dropped to his knees, his face turning an interesting variety of colors. As he lost consciousness, his hand slid away from his pendant, a devotional medallion inscribed with the symbol of Ares.
Well, damn and double damn. One of the things my grandmother always hammered into me was not to offend gods. She always muttered that Uncle Viricles would still have both hands if he hadn't slighted Hermes (although she never mentioned how he supposedly did that-- offended
Hermes, I mean). And this soon-to-be corpse at my feet wore a devotional medallion, the kind you get by making a pilgrimage to a major temple. Of course, he could have stolen it, and Ares was probably used to his followers getting killed--but, I could already feel the superstitious foreboding creeping in. If I didn't do something about this, I'd probably jinx myself, if nothing else!
Well, the guy was dead. I grabbed the medallion and went to look for a temple of Ares.
I was somewhat surprised to find that Bomipholis actually HAD one--but as I made my way inside, I realized that it was little more than a smallish stone hut with a crude granite slab that apparently served as an altar. A single oil lamp flickered in a niche in the wall. The place
was dusty and seemed sadly neglected. I laid the medallion on the altar. It didn't seem like enough, somehow. I knelt, a little awkwardly.
"Uh--Ares, I'm sorry I killed one of your worshippers. Um. Well, I suppose I'm not all that sorry that I killed him, but I'm sorry if it offended you. Anyway, here's his medallion, and I'll try and make it up to you somehow."
It was about then I realized I wasn't alone. I raised my eyes. Someone was standing across the altar from me. I SWEAR he wasn't there before! Was this the priest? If so, well-- maybe it was time I got religion! He was gorgeous, even in the dim light. Smoldering eyes, a full, sensuous mouth. Broad, muscular shoulders. He seemed, somehow, more THERE than he should be. I started to get very nervous--had I just been eyeing Ares as if he were an attendant in a particularly sleazy bath-house? Shit, I was really in for it now!
He smiled. Shit, he had a great smile! It didn't do a damned thing for my frazzled nerves It sure made my libido sit up and take notice, though! And completely wiped out my concentration.
"You'll make it up to me 'somehow', hmmm?" Damn again, even his voice was sexy! "I can think of a few ways." He stepped around the altar, and leaned against it, standing barely inches away from me. I was still kneeling, and my face was at about his crotch level. Even through the leather pants he was wearing, it was impossible to miss his raging hard-on--especially at that range! I licked my lips--I swear, it was an involuntary movement!
Yeah, right. I don't think he'd have bought that, either.
He chuckled. It was a dark, sweet sound, and I felt it in my gut (or, to be honest, a bit lower). "I can see you've already got the right idea." He put a hand on my shoulder. Oh! I could feel it all the way to my toes. He fingered the cheap cloth of my tunic. "I think you should be wearing something a bit more--appealing."
Before I could blink, I was naked. Well, not quite naked. I still had my shortsword, belted at my waist. And I seemed to have blue spirals painted all over my skin.
"Very fetching," he murmured. "My dear, woad is definitely your color."
Without my tatty linen skirt, kneeling on the dirt floor was getting uncomfortably very quickly. I'd have stood up, but I didn't trust my legs at that moment. Ares' hand was still resting on my shoulder, after all. I could feel my nipples stiffeningà THEY certainly didn't give a damn how hard the damn floor was! I had to do SOMETHING, or I was going to lose my mind. I reached out a hand, ran it up one of those luscious, leather-wrapped legs, starting at one perfect muscular calf. I stroked my way upward. I gripped the altar for balance with my other hand. I was trembling. Shit. I hate looking vulnerable, even when I am naked except for a bit of blue paint.
Ares moved his hand from my shoulder, stroking my face, running his fingers through my hair. "Poor little Rat, crouching on the cold ground," he purred.
Shit again. How could he know about THAT? Well, DUH. He's a god. He can probably hear my fucking THOUGHTS.
"Of course I can, Jasne." Damn, he sounded smug. He bent, lifted me up, sat me down own the stone altar. It should have been uncomfortable, but, somehow, it wasn't. "But don't let it distract you." Then he kissed me.
Well fuck, now I was truly in for it. I'd never been kissed like THAT. His tongue took possession of my mouth, even as his hands slid along the length of my body. I closed my eyes. He tasted like smoke, and his hands and tongue flickered like flame. I was trembling again, but I ignored
it. I plunged a hand into his hair-- it was even thicker and smoother than it looked.
When he pulled back, I was gasping. I felt like his tongue had reached all the way down through my guts. My nipples were as hard as little rocks and my clit was throbbing. I opened my eyes. His clothes were nowhere to be seen-- why hadn't I noticed that, dammit? Naked, he was even more splendid. For a long moment, I could only stare. The flickering, feeble glow of the oil lamp made intriguing shadows amid the firm, muscled planes of his chest and belly. His cock was magnificent--and more than a little scary. I'd seen bigger--on livestock.
Oh well. I like a challenge. At least, that's what I keep telling myself, and it usually gets me in over my head.
I stretched out, leaned on one side. Up close, I could smell the leather he'd just been wearing, and a smoky scent, like the taste of his mouth. I cupped his balls in one hand, and bent my neck, reaching out my tongue to lick a slow stripe up the underside of his penis. I worked my way up slowly. By the time I was halfway, he was squirming. By the time I reached the head, he was groaning. I twirled my tongue in light circles around the tip. I lowered my head, to take all I could of that monster cock into my mouth. I wrapped a hand around the base.
This just wasn't working. No matter ho wide I opened my mouth, I couldn't seem to get more than the head in. I'd have to be a friggin' SNAKE to blow this guy!
I felt his hand curve around the back of my neck. "I think you need some additional-- inspiration." His voice was deceptively mild. I couldn't get up the nerve to look up at his face. I wasn't sure I WANTED to try and read his mood.
"Strife!" he bellowed. "Get yer scrawny butt in here!"
Well, there went ANY illusions that I had any control over THIS situation.
"So what gives, Unc? You need a warm-up act?"
Well, I sure didn't appreciate that. I don't think Ares did, either; he stepped over and backhanded the guy (kid, really, he looked young, like, about my age young). "If you can't manage respect, at least try for good taste." He gestured towards me. "Jasne's kind of tense. I want you to help me relax her."
Strife sniggered. He had this weird look on his face. If it'd been a mortal, I'd have said he was trying to look worldly and cynical but not quite masking child-like glee, but maybe it means something different on a god. And if you believe THAT--
I felt, rather than saw, Ares walk around behind me. I didn't try to resist when he grasped my wrists and pinned them down over my head; I'd been pretty much expecting that sort of thing, and well, fuck, what good would struggling do? Strife ran his fingertips up the length of my leg, close enough to not touch the skin, but ruffle all the little hairs. Yeah, so it SOUNDS sexy, but it tickled like hell. And he knew it, the little shit. He was grinning like a maniac. I squirmed, giggling helplessly, totally pissed off.
"Oh, I could do this for hours. DAYS, even." Above me, I heard Ares chuckle. Strife went on. "Tickle you until you piss yourself. Make you laugh 'til your eyes bleed." He ran a fingertip up my belly, touching but lightly, lightly enough that it still tickled like fuck. Ok, so, if that doesn't sound so bad to you, well, then you're not really ticklish. If you are, then you'll understand what I did next.
Or TRIED to, anyway. I aimed a kick right at his annoying little smirk, but the little bastard caught my ankle. Ares laughed but didn't let go of my wrists. Strife leered down at me, grabbed my other ankle, and pressed both my feet down onto the altar's surface. Well, at least the little fucker wasn't tickling me anymore. I smiled and stuck my tongue out at him.
Ares bent, pressed his face against mine. "Don't stick it out unless you're gonna use it," he murmured in my ear. Then he kissed me, wet and sloppy. His tongue slid across my teeth and stroked the inside of my mouth, and I just melted. Shit, I couldn't have moved even if I WASN'T
being held down by a pair of horny gods. Ares shifted his grip, pinning both my wrists with one hand, cupping one of my breasts (Yeah, yeah, 'what breasts', real cute. Fuck you. I'm not a damn cow.), rubbing the nipple with his thumb. I barely noticed that Strife had released his hold on my ankles and was pushing my legs apart until I felt his hair brushing my thighs and his warm breath on my crotch. It tingled.
Ares released my hands, sitting on the altar-top beside me. I pulled myself up on one elbow, and grabbed the base of his cock. My thumb and fingertips barely met around it-- hot damn! This time I didn't bother trying to take the whole thing in my mouth, licking slow spirals around the shaft.
At that moment, Strife thrust two fingers deep into my cunt in a swift-almost rough gesture, and ground his tongue against my clit. I twitched, all over. Ares tightened his grip on my breast, and lay his other hand lightly on the back of my neck.
I moaned slightly, wriggling my ass against the stone. Strife pulled back, first his hand, then his mouth, and shot him an irritated glance. My irritation slipped away as I saw him scrambling onto the edge of the altar. I barely got a glimpse of his prick (long and slender, with a pronounced upward curve) before he drove it into me. He gripped my ass with one hand, and pressed the thumb of his other hand against my clit as he fucked me with rapid, shallow strokes. His thumb felt rough, like a cat's tongue. I slammed my hips against him, determined to fuck him every bit as hard as he fucked me, fuck him, fuck him, let's see how fast I can make this little bastard come, fuck, fuck, and then I was coming, coming hard, and he was pulling my mouth off of Ares' cock, grinning down at me in triumph, forcing his mouth down on mine, pushing me down, fucking me hard, deep, and then he was coming, all hot inside me... He fell back, panting. I looked up. Ares was gazing down at us with an amused leer.
"Well, well. Wasn't that just--adorable."
Well, I was well and truly in for it now. And it was about time, too! I lay on the altartop, panting a little. Strife had rolled onto one side, and was grinning lazily at me. Ares grabbed him about the waist and lifted him, head-down. He let out a little, startled shriek, but quieted as Ares bent to whisper something in his ear. When Strife started giggling, I knew I'd better start worrying.
Ares tossed Strife down on his back on the stone surface, his crotch level with my face. The lithe little godling was getting hard again, I saw, as Ares grabbed my hips and lifted me onto my hands and knees above him. The dark god bent to whisper in my ear.
"Hope you're feeling a little more--limber." Fuck! Just the warmth of his breath on my neck was enough to send hot and cold shivers through me--of course, the fact that Strife was sucking and nibbling at my clit didn't hurt! Ares was walking slowly around me, trailing a fingertip
down my spine. I turned to look--
*Whack*! Strife's dick hit me in the side of the face. Well, while I was down there-- His prick was about as long as Ares', but a lot skinnier. I grinned confidently, grabbing the base and swirling my tongue around the head. I could taste myself on him, as well as his own juices. Ares gripped my ass, sliding his thumbs along my slick, wet labia. Mmmmm-- I wriggled my head a little as I pushed my mouth down the length of Strife's cock., not stopping 'til my lips brushed my hand. He moaned, his tongue slithering liquidly around my clit.
Without any further preliminaries, Ares buried himself in me in a single, forceful thrust. Damn! I would have cried out, but my mouth was full of Strife. For an interminable moment, Ares was still.
Then, he was slamming me, fucking me harder than I could ever remember having been fucked. Damn, he was BIG! He pounded his cock into me in a deep, steady rhythm. Strife was still flicking his tongue across my clit-- the angle must have been a bit awkward, but shit, it felt GREAT! I was trembling all over. Ares gripped my hipbones like handles, battering against me hard enough that my head was bobbing up and down on Strife's dick from the sheer percussion of it. I was coming, coming, I couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't do anything but hang there and get fucked. It seemed to last forever, and it was over way too soon. Ares and Strife seemed to erupt inside me at the same instant. I swear, I could feel their cum mingling inside me!
When Ares let go of my hips, I slid ungracefully down into a boneless sprawl. I barely noticed Strife wiggling out from under me. I didn't want to move, didn't want do anything but lie there grinning like an idiot.
Ares ran a casually possessive hand up my leg. Pants slithered into being around me. I glanced down. Hmph. Snug, black, glove-leather, sides open and laced up. He slid his hand up my side, and a billowy black silk (YES I know what silk looks like. Yes, it's because I stole some once. So? I got a good price for the shit, too.) shirt engulfed me. I felt something tight around my waist. I sat up to see. It was some kind of corsetty wide belt thing, laced up the front, made from leather just slightly thicker and stiffer than the pants.
"Nice-- not exactly my style, but nice." I glanced up. Strife and Ares were dressed again, too.
Ares' eyes glinted. "It's your style as long as I say it is." Something in his hand caught the light. That blasted medallion? He held it up by its loop of chain, dropped it over my head. "Don't forget, you still owe me." He kissed me, surprisingly gently, on my forehead.
Strife leaned in. "Guess I'll just tickle you into shrieking incontinence some other time," he whispered in my ear. I turned to shoot him my patented Evil Glare--
--only to realize that I was alone in the rapidly fading light of the one oil lamp.
Well, shit. I figured I'd better hightail it out of Bomipholis before anyone found the dead guy. When I hopped off of the altar, I noticed that Ares had even remembered to conjure me up some boots. They were incredibly comfortable, the way most boots should be but aren't.
Outside, there was just enough moonlight for me to make out my way out of town. On my way, I tried to lift the medallion off, to get a better look at it. The damn thing wouldn't fit off over my head, even thought it had gone on that way, and it seemed to hang plenty loose when I let
it fall. I hunted for a clasp. Nope. Well, damn. Guess I'd gotten religion.
Or, it had gotten me!
Continued in 'The Polished Bronze Rat scrambles for a Thesaurus'