Codes: ScFi viol MFf ******************************************************************************** * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * * * * * For the love of SPOONS no one under the age of twenty-one (21) or the age of * * consent for their geographical location (whichever is HIGHER) needs to be * * anywhere near this. This is a story meant for legally-adult readers. Don't * * let your kids read this. Don't let your dog read this. Don't let your * * religious leader within the same postal code as this. You know, really, YOU * * probably shouldn't even read this horrible, nasty, terrible story. * * * * Hopefully it goes without saying, but if you ever even vaguely ponder the * * SLIGHT idea that MAYBE you would CONSIDER doing anything even REMOTELY like * * anything depicted herein--GET HELP. NOW. Therapy is a wonderful thing. * * * * This story can (and probably does) contain one or more of the following (bet * * your last nickel on "more"): Incest, pedophilia, watersports, extreme female * * domination, bestiality, psychological torture, and who knows WHAT other * * sick, perverted, dirty, terrible, and disgusting things I can come up with. * * Really, you ought to stop reading. Right now. I'm serious. * * * * ...still here? You sure? This is bad-bad mojo. Last chance... * * * * * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * * WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING * ******************************************************************************** Formatted to be eighty characters wide 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 | | | | | | | | v v v v v v v v 12345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890 ================================================================================ POISON Chapter Six: Revelations by Forbidden Fantasy Storyteller "You defile my world with your very presence," growled the man lowly, glaring at me with eyes the odd shade of burnt sienna. "Your human host may yet be allowed to live--but your alien parasite WILL leave." His fist was suddenly engulfed in flame, and I got the sudden, inexplicable yet undeniable impression that whoever and whatever this man was, he meant what he said. I was standing on the airstrip in a private airport just outside Santa Barbara, California, with the last of my belongings loaded into a large cargo plane. Before me stood--the weirdest form I have even seen or even thought of in my life, and considering that I'm a human mentally bonded with an alien symbiote, that says something. The man--and I use the term loosely--before me was at least six feet tall and had an olive-y complexion with features that were reminiscent of Egyptian and Greek, yet without quite seeming to be true descendants of either. That was the least-outrageous thing about him. He had burnt sienna eyes, thin flame-orange eyebrows, and hair to match. Weirder still, he had large WINGS, of all things. Wings of a type I didn't really recognize, though they looked similar to a hawk's wings, or perhaps an eagle's. He wore a bright costume that covered him completely from the neck down, obviously designed to draw attention--as if the wings wouldn't have done it on their own. Bright green and bright cyan, it hugged his form though had a touch of padding, as if it were a form of Kevlar or some similar. On his chest there was an emblem of a bird, its wings spread wide. I had to assume it was a phoenix, as it was wreathed in fire. Both elements of the emblem were a bright mixture of reds and oranges. Oddly, the symbol didn't really clash with the rest of the costume. "Uh-huh," was all I could think to say. In my defense, there really wasn't much TO say. He stared at me without blinking, and for the first time in my life I got the sense of authority and regality that I myself put forth. It--was surprisingly off-putting. Though, if that was the sense others got from me, then it wasn't the worst thing in the world. "You have three seconds to decide your fate," said the figure. "I only need two," I said, adopting a smug expression. "Fuck. You." Normally I shy away from such banal vernacular, but if there were ever a time for it, that was it. I admit to satisfaction as his brow furrowed in anger, the flames emanating from his fist growing larger. "Who the HELL do you think you are?!" I raged at him. "You accost me out of some undeserved sense of superiority, without EVEN giving me the courtesy of knowing who you are, and you have the testicular fortitude to say *I* defile 'YOUR' world?!" A smirk came to his lips, then, and he said, "You--are correct, foul creature. I am Amun-her-Shepshef, first-born son of Ramses the Great, protector of this world." "Uh-huh. And my grandmother was a Vienna sausage." "Impudent cur! You dare mock your better?!" I snorted. "Oh, I would never do that--if I were faced with my better. You, my nightmarish friend, are NOT my better." I--really don't know, exactly, what happened next. One second he was glaring bloody hate at me, and the next I was flying backward through the air, my chest burning audibly. My symbiote was howling in pain in my head; we had just discovered that naked fire was almost as painfully debilitating to it as ultra-high-pitched sound. What a way to find THAT one out. I landed in a heap on the Tarmac, instinctively curling into a fetal position as more pain than I've ever experienced in my life shot through me. I still have no idea how much of that pain was my own from my burned chest, and how much was the symbiote's, felt by me through our mental bond. I felt the temperature suddenly spike, and forced my eyes open. Amun- herpes-Sheeplover was standing over me, flames crackling in both palms. "Are you ready to concede the battle, demon?" he whispered with a smile. That smile just BEGGED to be torn off of his face. "We are not a demon..." I growled, both my own anger and my symbiote's pulsating through us as I was covered in the symbiote, the bits of gold armor that was our own "costume" forming. "We--" we hissed, our voices combined in a dual tonalities that was quite unnerving to most people, "--are POISON!" Roaring, we leapt upward, my symbiote's toxic waste deposited into out hands. Both handfuls got shoved into bird-boy's face, and we took malevolent delight in the way his skin audibly crackled as it was eaten away. His painful screaming as he fell to his knees was a truly dulcet sound. At first. Suddenly his voice gained a weird, otherworldly, bass-y quality to it. It--it was "inhuman". That's the only way I can describe it. The low, thunder- like sounds reverberated--and we felt the very planet itself answering that reverberation as it started to shake. We looked at the plane, to Scourge and our favored pet still on the ramp. "Go!" we screamed. "Get away! We'll find you!" Scourge looked hesitant, as if she were about to charge off to our aid--but, no. I had to fight this bastard alone, to let them have the time to get away. Scourge and she alone could set up our new home in my absence. If she stayed, even if we won we would be possibly too far behind schedule, and as annoying as it was this winged whack-job wasn't the only thing I had to worry about. I had agents of the N.S.A. and, likely, the C.I.A. hunting for me, and when they caught me I was sure to be in a never-ending world of hurt. I was about to leave their grasp when this bronze buffoon interjected. Sometimes, just sometimes, I felt like my life were a comic book if written by a hyper- active chimpanzee with a crack pipe in one hand and a shot of vodka in the other. As the ground shook, we struggled to keep our balance. Looking at Amun- whatever, we--saw what was, now, the weirdest thing ever. As his face and neck were being eaten away by our acidic waste, it was REPAIRING ITSELF. "...oh, shit," we muttered, then the man suddenly burst into flame. His screaming rose to a fervent roar, answered once again by the very Earth itself, and flames shot from his wings to propel him forward and upward--into us. My symbiote and I both screamed in agony once more, but this time we channeled the pain we both felt into hate. That hate became rage, and that rage became strength. Nothing held back, nothing planned--this was pure, animalistic fury. The ground shook so hard we wouldn't have been able to stand even if we had the opportunity--but we didn't. We tumbled over the ground, trading Amun's fire-infused blows with waste-infused blows of our own. We no longer were quite sure where "Tobias" ended and "the symbiote" began. We had, then, an inkling of what every moment was like for Scourge. Such was our shared hate, our combined rage, our mixed pain--"I" was no different than my symbiote. We were dimly aware of the plane's engines starting up, then fading as the plane managed to roll down the runway. That freed us. Howling laughter that was at once both threaded with anger and--admittedly--likely lunacy, we threw ourself at Amun, fingers becoming barbed claws that ripped through his costume to rend the flesh beneath. "A pound of flesh! THAT is the price for your sin!" we roared, literally ripping chunks of the "man" out. His screaming was starting to grow so intense, we were getting a headache--and not from the noise. We could FEEL our skull starting to vibrate, and we knew it would shatter like a crystal goblet soon enough. There was one thing to do, and I would be lying if I said we took anything less than a deep pleasure from it. Digging our talon-like fingers into his skull, we viciously ripped his head off, the blood covering us and running down our body. The anger slowly faded from those oddly-colored eyes, and we dropped the head as we ourself dropped to the calming ground. We heard sirens in the distance, but--they weren't QUITE right for police, or even fire fighters. We slowly realized that they were the sirens usually heard from government cars. "Shit..." we grunted again, struggling to our feet. We happened to look down--and watched Amun's body disintegrate into ash. A smile came to our lips--then it was wiped away as the ash caught on fire. We weren't too knowledgeable on every bit of phoenix-related lore, but we did know that they supposedly rose from the ashes of their own death--at least as strong as before. A string of obscenities was barely kept back, as we focused on the much more important notion of fleeing. We were barely conscious; there was no way in hell we could fend off federal agents who were, in all likelihood, royally pissed off and desirous to take that out on US. Stifling a groan, we shuffled into the closest hangar, mere seconds before a trio of black government-issue sedans screamed onto the Tarmac. Leaning against the wall, we peeked through a hole, watching as the flames from Amun's ashes rose higher, a humanoid form slowly taking form within. We groaned when, after a good thirty second, Amun himself stepped out of the flames. We took some comfort in seeing him naked. Apparently whatever process let the man come back to life didn't let his clothing be part of the bargain. A small, rather insignificant victory, that--but we'd take anything we could get right then. Looking around, we finally found an old, battered clock on the far wall. Assuming it was correct, we only had to survive twenty-three minutes. Obviously, that was much, much easier said than done. Turning back to the wall, we peeked out again, watching the federal agents exit their sedans and run toward Amun. The latter exploded into flame once again, and we could SEE the way his features were twisted into a visage of anger. We were, to use more banal vernacular, screwed. We couldn't hear what was being said, but from the way the agents threw their hands in front of their faces, whatever they were shouting wasn't all that pleasant. Something seemed to catch Amun's attention, and his flames died down to merely blinding. Even our human eyes shielded by alien symbiote had to squint. One of the agents brought out something that, I swear on my life, looked like the P.K.E. Meter from the old "Ghostbusters" movies and waved it around. She slowly turned toward the hangar we--and I'm not ashamed to admit this, considering what we just went through--cowered in. We sighed and got to our feet, hurrying to the back of the hangar, where we slipped through the human- sized door as quietly as we could. The hangar we left was just one of a string, and it was a short, if painful, jog to the next one. This was locked, but we ripped the padlock off and slipped inside. A moment was taken to simply rest and think. We knew we had to stay near the runway, but we couldn't stay there, either. The federal agents were hot on our trail, as was that winged bastard. We didn't think he was working with or for them, necessarily, as much as not bothering to deal with them until we, first, were dealt with. He didn't seem like the sort to get his proverbial clock cleaned that often, so we were quite sure he had a score to settle with us. Our closer bonding faded, the last dregs of anger and adrenaline fueling it leaving. After a moment, my symbiote then gained my attention. ~Tobias?~ came the soft but firm sexless voice that only I could hear. ~Yeah?~ ~I do not know what was in that winged man's fire, but it is working through your body almost faster than I can keep up with.~ ~That would explain why the pain is only getting worse. And at least it's only "almost" faster than you can keep up with.~ ~True, but without rest for you and phenethylamine for myself, I estimate twenty minutes before your body is damaged more than I can repair.~ I had to smile at that. ~As long as we're not working under a strict schedule, eh?~ ~I have to say, I still find the human sense of macabre humor perplexing, even after all these years with you.~ ~Yeah? We shall have in-depth intellectual discourse over that most interesting topic at another time. Right now, cultural enlightenment must wait.~ I got the equivalent of a chuckle, for that, then I looked around the hangar. It was a pretty standard affair--tools, parts, diagnostic equipment, that sort of thing. My eyes fell on the sledgehammer hanging up on the far wall, and I limped over to retrieve it. Even with my symbiote's augmentation, it was, as they say, a bitch to pick up. Leaning it on my shoulder, I looked around the tall building and planned. I had an estimated three minutes at most before they arrived. Outside, Amun grabbed the scanner-device from the agent and looked at it, then at the hangar I was in. Tossing the device aside, he strode to the front of the hangar. He didn't waste time with trying to roll the door upward, instead pressing his hands against it and using his fire to burn through it. In less time than it takes to describe it, he had burned through, the bit he burned out falling over to the ground in a loud clatter. "Here we are, bird-boy!" I called out from the back of the hangar. I stood behind some oil drums, for two reasons. One, being so seemingly stupid as to all but ask to be barbecued should draw his attention away from the other reason: My right hand was hidden by the drum. He smirked and took a step inward, stopping when I said, "AH! That's far enough. I don't know--or care--what you are, but whatever people claim you must not be all that bright." With my left hand, I pointed above his head. He looked up, which was, I have to say, downright stupid. I released the cord I was holding with my right hand. In the few minutes previous, I'd jury-rigged a simple set-up. The cord was attached, in a rather round-about fashion through pulleys and casters-turned-pulleys, to the sledgehammer, which dangled above his head. The heavy tool fell and hit him almost squarely on the head, turning it into so much chunky salsa. I allowed a feral grin, then broke into a run. By the time I ducked out through the hole in the roll-up door Amun had made, I was a blur. My symbiote burned through phenethylamine to make sure of that. I passed the nearest agents fast enough to make their coats and ties billow as I sped out onto the runway. In the distance I could see the speck I was waiting for. Behind me I heard--and felt--Amun's literally Earth-shaking roar, which--I must admit this--actually struck fear into me. The first battle was won through being fueled with rage. The second was dumb luck. We wouldn't survive a third, and I damn well knew it. Panting harder than I have in many years, I sped out onto the runway, literally skidding to a stop at its end. Bent over, hands on my knees, I looked back and saw the hangar I left Amun in explode, sending the straggling agents tumbling and frantically trying to strip themselves of their melting suits. I looked back to the sky, at the growing speck, silently willing it to speed up. A crashing noise brought my attention once more to the hangar, and I saw Amun emerge from the fireball, flying toward me with flames streaking from beneath his wings. I and my symbiote were nearly spent. We had nothing left to fight him with. I was knocked over by a rope bonking me in the head. Stunned, I looked up, and saw it led to the now-low-flying jet overhead. I grabbed on just in time to be yanked into the sky--and Amun whizzed under me so close my symbiote cried out in pain. Grinning and praising the Roman gods, I struggled to pull myself up and into the jet, my helmet and mask melting into my skin. I was helped inside by Reginald Cornelius Zanders himself--an old acquaintance from London. "Old boy, when your woman asked I come here, I never expected--well, any of this!" he shouted over the roar of rushing wind, then he unfastened the rope and tossed it out, closing the door with a loud THUNK. I laughed, giddy with fading adrenaline and exhaustion, as I fell into the nearest seat. "I see your 'cruise' was as enjoyable as I promised." The last thing I heard before I succumbed to sleep was, "Much BETTER than promised!" The private jet was a speedy but comfortable thing, though it was as much my own tiredness that contributed to my comfort. My dreams were--odd. At first a hodge-podge of random memories; years as a youth spent at my uncle's cabin, reading everything about Roman mythology and culture I could get my hands on, my uncle tutoring and testing me. That was the only real bond we had, but it was a strong one. My first experience with a girl; I was fifteen, she was nine. It was my cousin, and she was staying with my family for the week. My parents had gone out for the evening. School, that repugnant collection of years spent with my nose in a book, girlfriends who couldn't understand my obsession with Ancient Rome, bullies picking fights only to have me end it by breaking their noses, teachers who were distressed by having far too many students to keep track of. Somewhere along the way, my dreams shifted. I saw a male figure in stylized Roman armor, every inch of him jet- black. He rode a horse a beautiful midnight-blue, steering the beast calmly to me. When he stopped, he slowly unsheathed the sword that was strapped to his left hip--then turned it around to offer it to me pommel-first. I saw my hand reach out and take it, lifting it rather gingerly. The dark figure leaned forward and whispered only two words: "Marius Faunorius". Those words echoed in the farmland he was in the middle of, echoing louder and louder and louder... "Old boy, wake up!" I was suddenly aware of being shaken. My eyes fluttered open and finally managed to focus on Zanders. "What the devil does 'Marius Faunorius' mean? You were shouting it at the top of your lungs." For all of that shouting, I couldn't find my voice just then, so I managed a weak shrug instead. Grunting, I sat straighter in the seat, blinking quickly as I stared out the window. I didn't recognize the land below. "Where..." I whispered, looking back to Zanders. "My boy, welcome to Rajasthan, India." He went on to say that Rajasthan was the largest of India's twenty-eight states, and was larger than any of the seven union territories. In a way, Rajasthan held everything a foreigner thought of when they think of India--opulent mansions, both private and turned into hotels, slums, and everything in between. I watched the Thar Desert pass below, leaning against the window and accepting a glass of Scotch and bit of Swiss chocolate without looking up. ~Your dreams were--most unusual, Tobias,~ my symbiote said, gently prodding me for information. I knew what it wanted, of course, but I had other things on my mind. ~No. Not Tobias. He died. Amun killed him. Tobias is dead, and from his ashes arose Marius Faunorius--god of death and sex. God of the bookends of human existence; that which precedes our arrival into this world, and the gateway we pass through when we leave it. The god who took human form to wipe the pestilence that is humanity from the planet.~ I felt my symbiote's surprise, but I didn't concern myself with it overmuch. It would discern the truth of my thoughts, of course it would. I had been granted a vision of my destiny--and thanks to the symbiote, that destiny would be fulfilled. I felt a renewed gratitude for the symbiote's presence in my life. To think, I would have still been rotting in prison, lacking in destiny or direction, were it not for the alien. ~My friend, we will bring about a new era for this world--an era guided by our hand.~ ~And Amun?~ asked the symbiote, as unflappable as ever, especially now that we'd apparently had quite a few hours' rest. "Amun?" I said, not immediately realizing--then not caring--that I spoke aloud, "He'll have a choice to make. Accept the Age of Enlightenment, or be our sworn enemy. I don't know what he is, but even if he's as nearly-immortal as we are, he can feel pain. If he chooses to stand against us, he WILL feel as much pain as we can offer." My symbiote's mental smile matched my physical one. * * * Evening on the streets of Rajasthan. Zanders had, at my insistence, left to find a hotel, though I urged him to send his jet onward. We'd left Amun far behind us, but I really doubted it would take him long to catch up. The pilot seemed a decent sort, but--eggs and omelettes, you know. My symbiote had altered itself to look like the traditional dress of a Rajasthani man, a Dhoti (a rectangular piece of un-stitched cloth around seven yards long, wrapped around the torso and the legs and knotted at the waist), a kurta (a loose shirt falling either just above the knees) underneath, and a safa (essentially, a turban). I'd wound the last bit of the turban over my lower face, to both protect against the dust and to provide a small measure of anonymity. I walked through the streets, ignoring the vendors calling their wares, tossing coins to the beggar children, and eventually found myself at what once was a small home. The Christian cross painstakingly painted above the door marked it as currently a church. Smiling to myself, I headed in. Not too surprisingly, it was empty. It was a small dwelling, as I mentioned, though the main room was larger than one might have expected. I walked to the far end of the room to look up at the small crucifix that was hanging on the wall. "You promise freedom," I whispered up to the wooden figure. "You promise eternal bliss in some after-life if the sheep prostrate themselves before you and swear to go against everything you created them to be. You are a false god, turning a deaf ear and blind eye to their pleas. Not I. I am a merciful god, for I walk amongst the people, promising glory and pleasure in the only life they'll have--and I do not forsake those who follow me." I smiled-- then stopped as the door was slowly pushed open. By the time the woman stepped into the room, I'd hidden myself in a corner, my symbiote darkening itself to blend in with the shadows perfectly. I watched the woman slowly pad to the crude altar that stood near the crucifix, head bowed. Without looking up, she got to her knees. From my position on her right, I saw that beneath her veil, she was a half-Caucasian, half-Indian woman, who had long ago lost most of the right side of her face to some horrible fire. Her eye socket was a twisted mass of scar tissue--and that was the best part about that side of her face. Her mouth was malformed into a perpetual sneer, and though she once must have been beautiful, she surely now was seen as nothing but a monster. I took pity on her, a woman who in America would be barely thought of as "middle-aged", but in this one was thought of as almost venerable--and pitiable. My symbiote altered itself around my throat and face, so our voice would echo off the walls without seeming to come from any one place. "<My child, you have been the subject of scorn and pity from your fellows,>" we said in Rajasthani, and the woman's head snapped up in alarm. "<Fear not, for your true god has seen your trials and tribulations.>" She fearfully whispered the Rajasthani word for the Hebrew god, and I chuckled placatingly. I switched from the Bagri dialect to the Shekhawati one she used. "<No, child, not the false god who has ignored your pain. Nor the false demon claimed to desire to twist humanity. No, child--I am your true god. Close your eye, and let me show you my love for you is true.>" Slowly, so slowly, she did so. "<Good. Now keep them closed.>" I snuck from my hiding spot as my symbiote adopted our "costumed" look, and silently went to stand before her. Lightly I placed my hand on the scarred side of her face, causing her to gasp--then whimper. My symbiote was working its way into her flesh, reworking it to make her whole again. It was a long, and lamentably painful, process, but as she could FEEL her face restructure itself, she kept silent. I thought then, and still think, that it was solely from surprise and even shock. When I finally drew my hand away, we whispered, "<Open your eyes, child.>" With tears in them, she did so, and for the first time in years she had two perfectly working eyes. They gazed up into my own, hidden as they were behind the small white "lenses". "<I am Marius Faunorius, your god enrobed in human form to walk amongst you and end your pain.>" Her bottom lip trembled, and, with fearful slowness, she stretched her hand up, lightly touching my gold belt with just the tips of her fingers. I gently took that hand, clasping it warmly in between my own. "<Unlike the false god in whose 'house' you find yourself, I am real. I feel pain at your pain, and have taken it away. It is my will that it will never return. Will you obey and worship me?>" She struggled to form a coherent response, and I tilted my head in a compassionate manner, my white eyes crinkling at the edges to hint at the benign smile that was hidden. Finally, she gasped, "<How--how can I know that this is truth...?>" "<You know in your heart. What I have done for you was a gift of love; your freedom has been left untouched. If you wish to leave, you may, and I again say it is my word that, even then, your beauty will stay with you. Such is my love for you.>" She took her left hand and ran it along her face, under her veil, the tears returning to her eyes. Releasing her right hand, I turned and retrieved a bronze plate from the altar, holding it so she could use it as a mirror. She stared at herself, and I gently removed the veil, letting it dangle to give her an unobstructed view. Her eyes flicked back up to mine, then swiftly moved back to the plate. "<This--this is real...?>" she whispered in stark disbelief. "<Yes, child, it is real. Your face is again whole, and your beauty once more shines brightly.>" She stared at herself for many long moments--then suddenly bent over, pressing her forehead to the toe of my boot. I crouched, lightly cupping her chin and tilting her head up. "<You have pleased your god, child,>" I whispered softly. She smiled up at me, and I could so plainly see that it was the first true, honest smile she'd shown in many years. I stood up and stepped back, telling her I would accompany her to her home, but I would need clothe myself as a mortal to pass inconspicuously through the streets. My "costume" started to writhe, and though I could again see fear in my new devotee's eyes, she watched unblinking. My armor rustled and became cloth, which wound itself about my body, as the black bodysuit lost its color and shrank, becoming the shirt and shoes of before. My helmet changed back to the bright blue color and wrapped itself around my head to re-form the turban. It was all done with a more dramatic flair, but we had a reputation to create. Once the process was complete, I took the woman's hands in mine and gently pulled her to her feet. As we walked through the streets, I noticed the looks of shock she received. I heard murmurs that either demonic or heavenly forces were "surely" at work, which one being promoted depending on the speaker. She was positively beaming happiness, taking pleasure in the surprise of those who knew her. As we walked, she told me of her life. Her name was Chanda Meerabai Singh, born to a British mother and Hindi father, though he died when she was a child. Her mother tried to raise her here in India, though as a white woman found it obviously difficult to try and keep her child aware of both sides of her family. She married a Hindi man nearly a decade previous, though three years after their wedding they were in a bus accident that claimed his life, and her face. Only her now-eight-year-old daughter had given her unconditional love; though other women were sympathetic and helped when and how they could, there was always an undertone of fear and wondering if it was a "sign" of her spiritual impurity from being born a half-breed. I swore to her that she was anything BUT spiritually impure, and that she had proved it when she gave me her worship. Did I not, after all, take away the very disgrace she had lived with for so long? We talked further, and I told her that I had come to do away with the false deities of the world--which was all of them. At her questioning of that, I pointed out that I and I alone walked the Earth, not the Hindu gods, nor the Judeo-Christian Christ, nor any other. They had forsaken humanity--but not I. I had come to save it. The rest of the journey was in silence, as she pondered that. As we approached her modest home--so modest it made the improvised Christian church I found her in seem large--she admitted, grudgingly, that it made sense. I walked where other gods did not. I offered her a gift of love without demanding her servitude in recompense. That was more than any god she had offered prayers to had done. We entered her home, and I closed the door behind me as she went to fetch her daughter. Young Karmabai was doing her homework like a good girl, and though, as I'd said, I disliked pulling her away from her studies, she deserved to know that a god had blessed her home. Chanda disappeared into the only other room,and I heard the gasp of a small child. Shortly after it came joyous laughter and quiet conversation, then Chanda reappeared, holding her daughter's hand. I knelt on one knee, extending my arms to her, and at her mother's gentle assurance, she walked to me. I clasped her warmly, hugging her against me, whispering, "<I am your god, young Karmabai, come to deliver you and your mother from pain and misfortune.>" She leaned back and looked into my eyes, a fearful--if cute--expression coming to her small face that mirrored the look her mother was capable of. "<Your life is hard, I know,>" I told her, stroking her hair reassuringly. "<But you are a wonderful child. You stood by your mother, gave her your love and her honor where none other did. You have helped earn freedom from suffering for you both.>" She looked back at her mother with a shy yet hopeful smile, and the woman just looked between her daughter and her god. "<I will take you both to a far-away land, where you will never again know hunger or isolation. Would you like that?>" The question was posed as much to her mother as to the girl herself. They looked to each other, then back to me, both nodding and smiling. At my direction, what meager belongings and food they had were gathered into a few satchels and a bed sheet. I left them to that task while I went to find some certain vendors. I returned an hour later, loaded down with camping gear and certain other provisions. For the gear, I packed mostly light cloths that could be used as a small tent, to provide enough protection against the desert and mountains we'd be heading through. I shouldered my packs and grabbed their packs as well, smiling to the females. Gods have far more than mortal strength, I informed Karmabai as she stared at me, wide-eyed. Once we were ready, we left. I made a stop by Zanders' hotel first, however, to hand him a large box with explicit and precise instructions. He would be well taken care of, I promised him that. After bidding him goodbye, I left. Along with the camping gear, I'd managed to "obtain" quite a bit of money, so we took cabs and buses for the first few days, where we would end up near Issyk Kulskaya, Kyrgyzstan. From there, we'd cross the mountains on foot. It would take nearly a week and a half, keeping to a brisk pace, to reach the conifer forests where Scourge was setting up my empire. We made decent time as we were driven through the Thar Desert, stopping at what Americans would call truck stops for food and relaxation, and on the evening of the fourth day of our journey, the time spent talking. I inquired as to their lives and hearts, and in turn I regaled them with tales of what to expect. Karmabai was nearly beside herself at the prospect of meeting a real, live Siberian tiger--a friendly one, at that. Once we were dropped off just outside the city of Issyk Kulskaya, we purchased more provisions and headed off into the mountains. The first night was a warm one, surprisingly, so I gently pulled my girls close and told them we would share our love. Chanda, back-lit by moonlight filtering in through our tent, looked surprised. She glanced at Karmabai briefly before looking back to me, and I could see the silent question in her eyes. "<Do you yet cling to the false teachings of treacherously absent gods?>" I asked her, smiling benignly and stroking her left cheek. "<Do you not yet accept that your trust and faith in me will be richly rewarded?>" Without thinking, she lightly touched her right cheek, as a faint blush arose. "<Of course, Master,>" she said almost shyly, ducking her head as she smiled. "<Can you forgive my occasional stumbles?>" I laughed and brought her face to mine to kiss her lips tenderly. "<My love is such that anything is forgiven, if you come to me with sincerity.>" My assurances helped both her and her daughter; why shouldn't I forgive honest mistakes? Such pettiness would be expected of the false gods I replaced, but not I. I held myself to a much higher standard than THAT. I slowly undid her sari, and let the bright canary-yellow cloth slip through my fingers to the ground. As the woman's blush deepened, I then started unfastening her choli, the midriff-baring blouse with high-arched cropping in front and back to offer not only a delectable view of flesh, but also is well- suited for the humid Summers. Once her breasts were exposed, the choli discarded to the side, Chanda grinned and ducked her head again, the blush creeping down over the tops of those beautiful breasts. "<You are so beautiful, my pet,>" I whispered as I let a fingertip just lightly drag atop one. A glance at Karmabai, who was no less flushed, but nor was she grinning any less either. "<Is she not a thing of beauty?>" That earned a sincere nod. "<Just like you.>" I kissed Chanda once more, this time with a hint more passion, then turned to Karmabai. As with her mother, I discarded the child's sari then choli, admiring the nearly-flat chest she presented. I softly stroked the child's chest as I leaned in and kiss her tenderly. When I leaned back, I glanced over to Chanda, saying, "<Look upon your daughter--look with eyes untarnished by the lies of false gods. Is she not truly a thing of wonder and beauty?>" Chanda did look, her eyes wandering over the topless girl. Boldly, she reached out to stroke my cheek, as she whispered, "<She--she is, yes, Master.>" I let my fingertip lightly graze against one tiny nipple, causing the girl to giggle quietly. Turning back to Chanda, I started unfastening her lehenga, the ankle-length skirt. She squirmed a little, both to help the process and out of shyness, but within moments it was added to the pile of discarded clothing. I ran my hand slowly along her thigh, smiling at the way her blush deepened; I didn't even think it could get that red, but there it was. Looking briefly at Karmabai, I said, "<Isn't your mother beautiful?>" The girl nodded again, and my hand left her mother's thigh to take her and stretch her arm across me, so she could feel her mother's skin. That touch made Chanda dip her head again, but as her daughter caressed her thigh with the growing boldness of youth, I cupped Chanda's chin and tipped her head back up. Her long, black hair was tucked behind each each, then I said, "<You are showing your daughter your love wonderfully, my pet. She is already freer than the disdainful false gods would have her.>" She nodded at that, and managed to keep her head up of her own accord. Already, Karmabai had started to learn from her culture that her happiness was irrelevant, but I was determined to show that to be nothing but a lie. Her happiness was important, and would come as she learned her place in my empire, she and her mother both. They would be at my feet, and what other position could bring MORE happiness for a female? I gently guided Chanda's thighs to open, letting her daughter get a better look at the pussy as yet hidden by dark fur. I felt gooseflesh arise on Chanda's skin as I started caressing her breasts, making me smile. I kissed the top of each breast lovingly, then moved Karmabai and myself so she was kneeling before her mother and thus able to continue exploring. Meanwhile, I dug around one of the packs until I came out with a canteen, some soap, and a straight-razor. As I lay Chanda on her back, I said, "<Your beauty should NEVER be hidden, my pet. Loveliness such as yours deserves to be freely seen and enjoyed.>" She nodded hesitantly, though to her credit she showed her trust in me as she spread her legs of her own accord. As Karmabai watched, spellbound, I patiently shaved her mother, from mons pubis to anus. Once I toweled her off, Chanda giggled and leaned up to look down between her legs. Her beautiful cunt was now proudly on display, and both Karmabai as well as myself couldn't help but gaze at it. I had her lay back down, and I guided Karmabai to lay between her mother's legs. After whispering in the child's ear, she giggled and nodded. I lay next to Chanda, guiding her lips to mine for an impassioned kiss. Whatever else may be said about her deceased husband, he was apparently not a great lover. Aside from the expected hesitation at being about to make love with a man she wasn't married to, there was a genuine lack of skill in the kiss. She was, however, a quick learner, her tongue quickly if uncertainly dancing with my own. I grinned when I heard her gasp, knowing it was from the tentative kiss her daughter had placed on her pussy. "<Relax,>" I whispered against her lips. "<Let your daughter love you.>" She did her best, she really did, and slowly relaxed against the ground once more. I left a trail of kisses down her right cheek, down her neck and across her throat, then dragged my tongue between her breasts. I smiled to myself, seeing how her nipples were hardening, both from my own tender actions, as well as her daughter's growing boldness in exploring her mother. I fondled one breast while suckling on the other, and I suddenly felt her hand on my head, fingers curling into my hair. I was more than pleased, even, or especially, since it was quite likely she wasn't even aware she was doing it. "<Spread your legs for her,>" I whispered. "<Encourage her.>" Without hesitation her thighs widened, her free hand reaching down to blindly stroke her daughter's hair. "<Yes, baby, more...>" she groaned, eyes squeezed tightly shut. To my immense pleasure, her hips started rocking, pressing into her daughter's face, and I gave the child silent encouragement with the lightest pressure on the back of her head. It was just a silent way to tell her to go deeper, lick harder. She definitely got the message. Soon her mother was whimpering, and I slowly put her hands on her own breasts, encouraging her to squeeze and fondle them as she needed. She required no further urging, and started groping her breasts with abandon. I leaned back, propping my head up with my fist as I watched the two. Karmabai was nearly insistently probing her mother's pussy. What she lacked in skill was more than made up for in the fact that her mother had, if I was right, never really experienced sexual pleasure before. In much of that part of the world, a woman's sexual pleasure is either ignored, or downplayed as unimportant. Now, however, she was experiencing it in its glory, given to her through the love of her daughter. Chanda's brow furrowed tightly, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body started contracting, a high-pitched whine cut off in a squeak--and she finally crested that wave. Her orgasm made her shudder violently, and with a smile I placed a fingertip on the back of Karmabai's head to silently instruct her to not stop. The child didn't let up, noisily lapping as her mother's juice ran freely. When Chanda thudded back to the ground, I slowly pulled Karmabai's head back, kissing her come-covered lips tenderly. "<You did wonderful, my pet,>" I told her honestly, and she smiled, panting, at me. Bidding the child to lay on the other side of her mother, I lay down next to Chanda again, lovingly wiping the sweat from her forehead and nuzzling my cheek to her temple. It was many long moments, spent simply with myself and Karmabai snuggling against Chanda, before the woman could speak. "<What--what was--that...?>" she gasped, a cute, lopsided smile pulling at the corners of her gaping mouth. "<That was your daughter's love for you,>" was my response. It was actually rather sad that this creature had never before felt such sexual release. To be sure, her husband bedded her numerous times, which only made it more irksome for me to know that never did he grant this woman an orgasm. Chanda looked at her daughter in wonder, then languidly draped an arm around Karmabai's to pull her close, so they could rest their foreheads against each other. such a display warmed me. Truly--TRULY--for moments such as this were why I was destined to rule, granted the ability to be a god amongst mortals. Never had these two felt such a bond before, and now, thanks to me, they would forever be linked by their hearts in ways they had never before dared imagine. I waited until Chanda's breathing had resumed a more regular pace, then I stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers, murmuring, "<Are you ready to give her your love in return?>" Chanda looked up to me, then back to Karmabai, then back to me and nodded. She had a small, shy smile--but hidden in that shyness was a thread of adventurous hope. This was, still, far beyond what she had been raised to believe and accept--but I'd just proven that her culture--or any culture, really--actually understood how love could be shared. I moved to lay on my back, propping myself up on my elbows, and directed Chanda and Karmabai. Exchanging grins and lip-biting giggles, the child was laid on her back, then her mother unfastened her lehenga, not even looking as to where it was lain, so focused she was on her daughter's bared body. The small form was simply beautiful in the soft light of the moon filtering through the thin cloth of the tent, her olive skin almost glowing. Chanda glanced back to me, still with that smile on her face, and I just gave a nod with a smile of my own. Chanda leaned down to kiss her daughter on the lips, and I just barely caught the whispered, "<I love you so much, my wonderful daughter...>" Mimicking my earlier actions, she started kissing her daughter's chest, tenderly massaging the nearly-flat chest, suckling lightly on each nipple. Karmabai closed her eyes, her smile obtaining a rather goofy aspect. While she was as yet too young to experience a full, true orgasm, she would come as close as her mother could bring her. It was clear the child was already on the way. Chanda's full lips kissed downward further, the child's giggle at her mother's kiss to her navel eliciting one from the woman. Those lips dipped lower, and it became difficult to think clearly as Chanda parted her daughter's legs, pacing a lingering kiss on that tiny, puffy cunt. My clothes discretely melted into my body, seeping through my pores to leave me nude, and my cock started to throb as I watched, at the perfect angle to see Chanda's tongue dive into those tiny folds. Small mewls were soon whispered by the child, who had surely experienced nothing even CLOSE to this before, living in a country that repressed sexuality in females, started at as young an age as necessary. Once her mother started focusing on her clit, the child's hips started bucking and writhing, and couldn't resist the urge to stroke myself as I watched. Karmabai's small hands kneaded the cloth that served as our floor, eyes squeezing and relaxing in intervals increasing in speed. Suddenly she tensed, lips parting--then relaxed once more. Without needing any urging, her mother slowed to a stop, then lay next to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. The child gave a weak smile and nestled into her mother, and Chanda gave that sweaty brow a soft kiss. I smiled and stayed quiet, letting them have this time to further cement their bond. Even though my own desire was quite--strong--I could hold it off a few moments, and it was pleasing to watch them, huddled together and feeling a stronger love than they'd ever felt before. I caught Chanda's eye, saying, "<Do you now see how love should truly be? The love until now denied you and your daughter?>" She smiled wider and nodded. Once they were both rested, I got to my knees, the eyes of both females drawn to my erect cock. I smiled and bade Chanda to me, having her lay on her back before me. She needed nothing more than the initial direction; she may have been deprived of love and acceptance, but she knew how to lay on her back for a man. Karmabai knelt nearby, watching with interest, as I leaned forward and rubbed the head of my cock against her mother's folds. Chanda closed her eyes as I rubbed against her clit, the sensation exciting us both. She was diving into a world of sensuality, placing her faith in her god. This trust aroused me almost beyond description, and seeing her below me, a woman who until this eve hadn't known such a world of pleasure giving into it--just seeing her made it so difficult to control myself. I slowly slid into her, stroking her thighs as I smiled down at her. She reached up, caressing my biceps, returning my smile. As I settled inside of her she let out a long, soft breath. Bringing Karmabai over, she required little urging to start kissing and suckling her mother's breasts. She was shy at first, but the way her mother arched her back and took a hand from my arm to curl around her her, she quickly relaxed. I pulled my hips back, starting a rhythm that was soon to quicken. It wasn't long before the sound of my hips meeting Chanda's thighs became audible. She was being driven to sexual heaven once again, the inexpert but sincere nursing of her daughter combining with being truly made love to with genuine skill and patience. My hips were twisting, lifting and lowering, moving around to add even more stimulation for her--and it certainly seemed to be working. Soon she was panting loudly, nails digging into my arm, her daughter's hair being clutched tightly. Unlike women from many other nations, she didn't even have any idea about "faking" orgasms; this was truth, sincerity, her honest reactions to the love she was feeling. It's cliché, I know, but it's true--here, time really did lose meaning. I knelt there pushing into her, arching my hips to let my shaft rub her clit, or moving sideways to give a different angle, and eventually we both were moaning and gasping, the heady scent of sex permeating the tent once more. It was a far-tougher struggle than I thought possible, but I managed to stave off my own release until I felt--and heard--her fall over that edge. As her loving god, I of course wasn't about to rob her of such joy. Our orgasms seemed intertwined on a level I didn't really think possible. This wasn't like the times I'd fucked my pets, or even Scourge, where thoughts and emotions were shared and enhanced; this was--something different. Spiritual. This was something deeper than mere thought and emotion. I fell over, heaving in my attempts to regain my breath, and I could hear beautiful Chanda do the same. We both were limp pools of flesh, trying to regain our composure and failing so horribly it made us both smile. If, that is, you can call what was likely no more than a two- or three-millimeter difference a smile. We all snuggled together, catching our breaths. I nuzzled my lips against Chanda's cheek while stroking Karmabai's hip, enjoying this moment of quiet reflection. I could nearly sense the pondering going on in my devotee's mind, and the way she relaxed against me told me it wasn't an unfavorable collection of thoughts. Perhaps she was pondering the new direction her life had taken, the way this life felt so right on a near-instinctive level yet would have been decried by her birth-culture--and so many others on this rotten planet, for that matter. I didn't know for sure, of course, as for the first time I left her heart and mind completely her own, but she was intelligent and possessed admirable cognitive capabilities. I, her god, had done what science and religion could not--heal her. Further, I had shown her a love deeper than anything she had before experienced, a love that drew her and her daughter together, a love that brought her closer to me, and gave her warmth and a sense of stability and acceptance. That it would not have been accepted by nearly anyone else should make it sad, even pitiable--but no basis for fear. Quietly, she smiled and turned her head, seeking my lips with her own. The kiss she gave me was soft loving, even adoring, and I knew then that she was mine. No matter any future slips of hesitation, she was devoting herself to her god as best and fully as she was able. I returned that kiss, cupping her cheek and stroking it with my thumb. I loved the sweet taste of her lips, the soft feel of them. I was actually somewhat disappointed when the kiss was nearing its end, and I made it linger as long as I could. When it finally did end, we looked at each other and smiled. It was-- simply beautiful, really, that smile. Another of those she hasn't had reason to offer in so, so long. I traced her bottom lip with my thumb, happy to take that time. We finally pulled apart, and I leaned over her to cup Karmabai's chin, so I could offer her a warm, loving, lingering kiss. There was shyness in her as she returned it, but no hesitation. Pulling back a little, I looked steadily into her eyes, smiling warmly at her. "<Are you ready, my pet?>" I whispered, knowing I didn't have to specify what I was asking about. She glanced at her mother, then looked back to me and nodded. That shyness intensified, but she seemed to be trying to control it and move forward. I moved around her mother to kneel before her, my cock starting to harden once more from the sight of the child. She was such a delectable creature, and I was nearly joyous beyond measure at having her. I laid her on her back and slowly spread her legs, taking obvious pleasure in looking at her. There was an almost embarrassed quality to her smile as I gazed at those perfectly smooth folds, still glistening from her mother's dedicated work. Smiling anew, I lightly rubbed those folds, taking extreme care to not hurt the child. Her clit was at first teased, only light grazed of my finger, and it wasn't until she started to relax more fully that I began to massage it directly, rubbing it with my fingertip lightly. Her eyes closed, and I rubbed those moistening lips, myself starting to have trouble controlling my desire. Keeping one hand continuing the massaging of her tiny pussy, I crawled closer, nestling the head of my cock against the hymen-protected entrance. I didn't tell her that it might hurt, since I was trying to keep her mind, shall we say--occupied. As well, I was going to do everything within my power to keep it from hurting much. She deserved no less. I quickened the rubbing of her small clit, as I eased into her, gaining only millimeters each second. She emitted only the softest of grunts as I broke through, and, judging from the look on her face, whatever discomfort I caused was soon forgotten. Gasping softly, I continued to push into her, stopping when I'd worked only about half of my shaft in. I didn't want to hurt her unnecessarily, of course, so didn't dare push in any farther. I knelt there, massaging her clit as I let her get used to being filled. Before I let myself do anything more, I silently beckoned her mother to my side, and switched her hand for mine, showing her how to rub her daughter's clit. This freed me to place both hands on either side of the small body to hold myself up. When the last traces of discomfort faded from Karmabai's face, I pulled back, almost as slow as before. It--was so very arduous, keeping the rhythm slow and gentle. Her small form hadn't been so loved before, as it should have been, so I had to exert, if I may be so immodest, rather tremendous self- control. Of course, without my symbiote's immeasurable aid, it would have been impossible. I honestly still have no idea how long it took, but each thrust was oh- so slightly quicker than the one before, until I was moving much more fluidly. I didn't dare try and push anymore than halfway into her. The feel of her SO tight, velvety inner walls gripping me and sliding along my cock was simply beyond any dream. It--it felt so wonderful, so warm, so inviting, so simply MARVELOUS. If it weren't for my symbiote, I know beyond doubt that I wouldn't have lasted long. As it was, it was a fight, to wait for her to feel the rise of what I suppose could be called a miniature release. I gave silent thanks to Venus that I'd been able to keep her occupied enough so as to not let her feel much besides discomfort, which itself was giving way to her release. Once again, small mewls slipped from her throat, and I felt her small hands grip my arms rather tightly. The sudden fluttering of her pussy around my cock was simply too much; even my symbiote couldn't hold my own release back any longer. Groaning loud enough to make my throat hurt, I came rather violently. It actually HURT, such was the power of my orgasm. It took the last dregs of willpower I and my symbiote had left to not start thrusting as hard as I could, but--more thanks to Venus--I barely managed. As my orgasm flushed through me, my teeth grit hard enough to make the muscles ache, but--such a wonderfully small price to pay. When it finally ended, I used the last of my energy to slip out of the child without too much haste, then collapsed onto my back in a gasping, sweaty pile of lethargy. I was vaguely aware of the females moving to snuggle on either side of me, making me smile what was, I'm quite sure, the dopiest smile on any man's face ever. I had to struggle to form coherent thoughts, but I managed to kiss Karmabai's forehead, then whisper, "<D--did I hurt--hurt you, b--baby...?>" She smiled up at me, then shook her head. "<No, sir,>" was her response, given softly but without hesitation. "<G--good, my lovely--lovely pet...>" When we started to cool down, my symbiote seeped through my skin and billowed itself outward to cover us all as a warm blanket. It was most comforting, really, feeling the life-force emanating from it. When all was quiet, one could actually FEEL the very subtle ebb and flow of the symbiote's life. In a way, it was like being wrapped almost head to toe in joy and love. Not a bad way to fall asleep at all--especially with two girls, each with pussies still dripping with seed on either side. * * * Each morning, we made love again, the three of us. I would pack up the tent and such while they used rags and water from the canteens to bathe. We would hike as briskly as possible, and set up camp again each evening. Nights would be spent talking, making love, and sometimes talking again afterward. It would begin again the next day. Food were what vegetables and berries the girls gathered, and the occasional wild hare hunted by me. Roasted over a campfire, it was quite tasty even without much in the way of spices. And I had soon collected enough pelts to save and make caps and boots. I didn't have any leather-working skills, so I packed the furs away in bags to save for later. Chanda and Karmabai felt more comfortable with each passing day, each laughing brightly when the mood struck. They didn't even complain as we started traversing colder lands, much to my delight. They more than accepted me into their lives and all I brought with me, but happily looked forward to whatever else would come their way. I got the definite sense that they felt freer in those weeks than either of them had in their entire lives. Once they got used to the notion, they looked forward to meeting my Queen, the girls of my growing empire, and taking their places within that empire. It would be so different, to be sure, but look at what they had experienced so far--I promised them love of a depth they couldn't imagine, and they had felt that. They knew I kept my word, and I promised them acceptance, places of honor, and a home in which they need never know fear, pain, or isolation. It was nearly three weeks after we started walking that we finally came to the conifer forests of the Khangai Mountains. I smiled when I noticed the nearly-imperceptible movement of our shadower. "I have returned!" I called out in English, making my devotees pause and look at me curiously. In a moment, a woman stepped out from behind a tree. It almost should have been impossible for her to hide behind it, but such was my Queen's training of my guard that she did it as close to perfectly as she did. She held a longbow in her left hand, a steel-tipped arrow set in place and held with her right. My Rajasthani attire billowed, darkening in places, becoming golden in others, so I stood once more as Poison. The archer had, of course, recognized my voice, which is the only reason she stepped into view in the first place, but here was proof that I was her King. She smiled and knelt on one knee briefly, then stood and took the arrow from the bow to slide it back into the leather quiver at her left hip. The woman, clad in yellows that helped her blend into the Autumn colors of the forest, said, "Your Queen awaits you, Master. Shall I accompany you?" "No, girl," said I, shaking my head as my "costume" puffed out and billowed around me, once more resuming the looser attire of the Rajasthani outfit. I then introduced my devotees to her, telling them that there were many more wandering the forests, keeping my empire safe. They marveled at the archer, especially her skin-tight costume, and were surprised when I related how much training went into my guards before they were allowed to serve. It would take a crack special-ops team to slip by them unnoticed. We headed deeper into the forest, and a few hours after meeting the archer we came to the edge of a clearing. Innumerable acres wide, with many buildings in the process of being erected. Barracks for guards, housing for members of the Delphi Project, my own home, and such. My devotees stared at the people milling about, every female nude and collared, and when they asked what the emblem so many of them wore meant, I told them it was my symbol. The stylized phoenix rising from the flames symbolized the rebirth I would bring the world. I'm not sure what struck them more, the emblem and its meaning or the fact that at least three-fifths of the women wore it. The rest were, of course, women belonging to the Project members that had started to settle in and help build. Few of my own pets--at least few of those not kept in my home--were branded, tattooed, or pierced, but most of the others had some combination. There were plenty of men, too, of course, and Karmabai asked in a whisper why the women were nude. I told her. They were as beautiful to the men who owned them as she and her mother were to me, and though the season was turning colder they were working hard enough to keep themselves warm--and as beautiful as they were, why should that beauty be hidden? Karmabai slowly accepted that. We started making our way inward, past a woman clad in crimson leather armor, bearing a sword in her belt and a shield on her arm, accompanied by a woman in green with a staff strapped to her back, two pair of nunchaku in her belt. When the pair noticed us, they bowed and expressed their extreme pleasure at my return, and I had to grin as they hastened to spread the word of my arrival. When I heard the faint rumbling, I had my devotees stand off to the side as I braced myself. From behind what would eventually become a storehouse, Agrippa came running at full-tilt. My symbiote had JUST enough time to surge up and add thick padding to my back before the tiger tackled me. While I adored the cat, and loved how much he cared for me--being tackled by a full-grown Siberian tiger hurts. A LOT. Even if you have a symbiote cranking your system up to supreme efficiency. I had the wind knocked right out of me, but I managed a raspy laugh as I vigorously scritched his cheeks, delighting in the cat rubbing his head against mine. "Alright, you lummox!" I exclaimed, grinning. "Let me up already!" He huffed right in my face and added another head-nuzzle before he would move and let me get to my feet. Still grinning, I dusted myself off, then got to one knee and beckoned my devotees over. "<Beloved pets, this is Agrippa,>" I told them, encouraging them closer. They did move closer, though it was with more hesitation than I'd seen in them for quite a while. On the other hand, Agrippa WAS a full-grown Siberian tiger, and I doubted they'd seen the like in person before--at least not this close. I gently took Karmabai's hand, bringing it to Agrippa's muzzle. The tiger sniffed it rather loudly, then rumbled a purr and nuzzled his cheek into it. The child grinned and tentatively petted his head, and I motioned for Chanda to come closer as well. As they both stroked the tiger--who of course basked in the petting, as much of an attention-whore as he was--they started to lose their hesitation. After a few minutes, I picked Karmabai up and lightly placed her on Agrippa, resting more or less on his shoulders. I had the cat walk slowly, and showed her how to go with the rocking motion. Once she got used to it, she flashed a grin so large--well, I'm still surprised that it didn't split her face right in half. The next one to meet us was my favored cunt, riding her horse Prince bareback at full gallop. She obviously only remembered that Agrippa wasn't on friendly terms with any horse at the last second, making the steed skid to a stop. She hopped off while Prince was still skidding, bare feet a blur as she ran over and literally leapt into my arms. I laughed as I caught her, returning her impassioned kiss gratefully. It was nice to be with her again. I had to set the teen down after only a few moments, so I could make the proper introductions. She greeted my devotees warmly, though didn't take so much as a step away from me. I noticed a hint of jealous uncertainty in Karmabai's eyes, so I made a point of leaning over to her and kissing her passionately. At the lack of jealousy from the favored cunt, she started to relax once more. Our growing group headed onward once more, and thankfully there weren't any more lengthy stops from greeters. Some Project members, but the conversations were short-lived, and usually occurred without having to stop. Eventually we crested a small hill and there it was--a soon-to-be- finished manor, styled loosely after Roman architecture. I could see Scourge directing men and women, as stone blocks were put in place and mortared. I simply watched, for a little bit, as my Queen directed the men and women expertly, the breeze making her ruffled near-hint of material that didn't cover anything at all flutter. She turned, freezing when she saw me. Beaming a grin she jogged toward me, as did I to her. We met and she wrapped her arms around me in a hug that likely would have turned destroyed a mortal man. "Our King! We missed you, we--we feared..." Her whispered voice trailed off, and we saw the end of that sentence in her eyes. Since I hadn't returned quickly, she feared that Amun character had finished me. Knowing her, she also used whatever favors she had left to send out proverbial "feelers" to see what might have been heard--which, of course, would have been nothing. I had her lead the way to our tent, which housed only a few items, the main two being a large bed, our thrones, and our pets. The Sluts and Baby Maker were chained to a stake set in one corner of the tent, and they swished their hips to make their symbiote-made "tails" wag. I kissed their heads and stroked their hair for a few moments, then stretched out on the bed, bidding my Queen, favored cunt, and devotees to join me. Agrippa sat down next to the bed near my head. We spent the next few hours getting caught up. I told the Queen all that had happened, taking the time to translate for the devotees. They marveled at my earlier life, and they all took an interest in this Amun-her-Shepshef. We had, just a few days previous, figured out who this person had to be. There is a race known to the symbiote species, a race of beings--the term used very loosely--who are, weirdly, born in stars. Their life-force is tied to the star of their birth, and they "watch over" their solar system. Not much else is known about them, and even that much was the culmination of nearly insignificant bits of information patiently pieced together from every species the symbiotes had experience with--and what few sentient races exist in the galaxy, the symbiotes were experienced with most of them. The only reason why the symbiotes even knew these creatures were tied to their birth-stars is because they killed the one from their native system. As they started spreading across the galaxy, their own system's "guardian" attempted to intervene, to show itself and guide them away from the disdain they held for the "lower races" of the galaxy. Eons later, this erupted into a war that destroyed the star--and thus killed the "guardian". They sought knowledge of the "guardian's" species, and it took countless more eons to piece together what rather minuscule bit of information they had. However, there WERE clues. We just had to figure them out. And because the over all information was so sparse, it didn't "click" for my symbiote until so long after meeting Amun. I ended the catching-up with our arrival at the Project, adding praise for being so far ahead of schedule. Scourge took over, relating what she'd been up to in the weeks since leaving in the helicopter. "Marie"--the human Scourge had been before bonding with her symbiote-- had officially resigned from Thatcher-Greggs, International, then managed to fake her death to let her as Scourge better focus on building the empire. She, as I, had lost many of her contacts over the weeks; though a short amount of time, maintaining contacts can be--and usually is, contrary to the fiction of movies and novels--strenuous. Going without contact for so long meant those who were contacts from extortion found ways to cover themselves, others who owed favors starting conveniently "forgetting" while building cover for themselves, and so on and so on. At this point, the strongest contact we had was the Delphi Project, our allies and the sole reason we were able to start building our empire in the Khangai Mountains. They were good allies, too--strong and loyal. The Project had ties around the world, so they were able to get us the supplies we needed. In return, they would be spared the heavenly wrath I would bring the world. Good deeds should never go unrewarded, and loyalty should be rewarded doubly. Speaking of, though I'd glossed in my initial retelling, once Scourge was done catching me up, I further detailed the vision I was blessed with, the plans I had for the future. We would rule the world, someday. It wouldn't be soon, and it wouldn't be easy, but we could. The main hitch was Amun. Technically immortal, in a sense, he couldn't be outright killed, and having sworn himself our enemy he would continue to be a thorn in our sides. However, if he could be kept busy, we could slowly start spreading. And we had an idea for how to occupy him. The night was spent in an orgiastic sharing of love. There was initial shyness on the part of my devotees, but they were lovingly eased into it, and soon both of them happily became swept up in it all. The next morning, Scourge pulled me aside, needling me about my "having gone soft" on the pets. That, I told her, was my duty as god. Part of my calling was love-making. That led me to her duty. "You, my darling Queen," I said, holding her shoulders and smiling at her, "are reborn, now, just as I was. You are Vidisia Orculia, she who cleaves soul from body, she who resides over the underworld that awaits them." I could see from the look in her eyes that she was rather pleased. She had a certain-- predilection, you could say--for carnage and destruction. She was being reborn into a goddess, whose divinely-charged duty was--to basically continue being her. I believe the youths would, in the vernacular, say, "Not a bad ticket." We discussed plans for Amun, and she agreed to personally see to it. Thankfully it wouldn't require her to leave the empire for long, as what I needed could mostly be handled by the Project. As such, slightly longer than three months later, I was standing in Central Park, New York City, New York State, United States of America. It hadn't been long since I was in America, but the changes in my very soul made it seem so--novel. I stood on a little hill, somewhere between The Reservoir and Ninety- Seventh, dressed in my royal attire, only now covered head-to-toe against the Winter cold. It was just after one-thirty in the morning, and the cold air stung my face, but I was kept warm by my symbiote. At my feet was a leather satchel, around the size of a "backpack". I smiled, looking up into the sky, watching a fireball streak toward me. So wonderfully predictable. I'd had the word spread that I wanted to talk to him, there, then. He didn't seem the sort to ignore contact with humanity, so I was confident word would reach him sooner or later. I was just glad that however he sensed my symbiote, it seemed to have some sort of limit on its range, or perhaps my being sparse with using my abilities helped. Either way, he landed not three yards in front of me, and it was all my symbiote and I could do to not react to the sudden heat. I did have to shield my eyes with my arm, though that was partially a tiny concession. Enemies will usually take pleasure in even small accomplishments, and if they take pleasure, they are that much more likely to not IMMEDIATELY slaughter you. That--was important, obviously. Grimacing, he stalked toward me, flames running along his wings and hands. "I am glad to see you have another costume," I said pleasantly, making his brow furrow in anger. I could see he was about to rush me and shove those flaming hands down my throat, so I quickly said, "I know what you are, 'guardian'." That made him pause, and he narrowed his eyes. "You know nothing," he growled. That pause was telling. I was hitting close to something--though I didn't have any clue what, really. "Oh, but I do. You were born, shall we say, in a star. Our star. Sol." His eyes narrowed even further, becoming mere slits. I thought I was being cheeky, even provocative, but something in how I said that made him more cautious. Not what I was expecting, but obviously I was going to take it and run with it. He let out a slow breath, and I could have SWORN I saw more steam than would have come simply from a normal exhalation. Curiouser and curiouser. "What do you want, demon," he hissed, making a statement out of it rather than a question. I almost didn't catch it, so low it was. "Ah, not demon--god, actually." That surprised him, and after a beat spent staring at me with a cocked eyebrow, he laughed, loud and long. "A GOD?!" he retorted, incredulous. "A god. Of course. How many of you thought you were gods. What a small mind you truly have." I cocked my own brow, adding in a pursing of my lips. This foolish bastard was baiting me! To my annoyance, it was working. I decided to not take that bait, instead focusing on the matter at hand. "Laugh as you will, my cockamamy, cantankerous canary. I have bid you here for a reason." The flames surrounding his hands shot up in intensity, and he sneered a derisive grin at me. "You BID me?! Think you that my presence could be so easily commanded? How arrogant and misguided. Tell me why I should not rid my planet of you and the rest of the contagion you call brethren." So. He seemed to know of my Queen Vidisia Orculia. Or perhaps he was referring to my growing network of drones. Either way, it was irrelevant. I held up a finger, smiling and saying, "Ah, for that, I would better show than explain." Crouching, I opened the satchel and pulled out a small television, the kind you'll hardly find anymore. Before this meeting I'd made sure the batteries were fresh and it could get a news station, so now I turned it on and handed it to him. "Watch." He took it, thankfully snuffing out the flame from his right hand before he did, and looked at it. It was a retelling of an earlier news story--eight people on the five major continents, had committed suicide at (almost) the EXACT same moment, and all by leaping off of a tall building, to their death. Amun looked over the small television at me, bloody rage in his eyes. The television exploded as the flames returned to that hand. "What have you to do with that?!" he snarled. "They were simply a demonstration," I said as I brushed debris from my toga. "You and I both know that I could never kill you without killing this entire world in the process, and I'm certainly not about to do that, since I want it for myself. You also find inexplicable delight in trying to torment, even kill, me--which I just can't have." I clasped my hands together with a loud clap, beaming a smile at the winged warbler. "So. Here's the deal--you leave me alone, no one dies unnecessarily. You continue to interfere, well--I'll be able to kill MILLIONS before you could even FIND me." That wasn't an exaggeration. It was a bald- faced lie. He didn't need to know that, however. "What will you do?" he asked, lips barely moving at this point. "You don't need to know." "I must know if your--contemptible plans will be worse than slaughtering them." I pursed my lips again, this time in thought. After a moment, I nodded once, then glanced behind him and made a quick beckoning motion. Sweet, young, nude Karmabai stepped out from behind a bush and hesitantly walked toward us. Aside from her collar, a sturdy and pretty piece of leather-working, she wore a cloak made from hare pelts. Those were all she wore, but they were enough. With her came her mother, dressed the same. Just looking at them, even then, dealing with Amun, I wanted to strip their cloaks and make love to them both right then and there, but--of course, I had to focus on what was important right then. Amun lifted a brow as my lovely pets came to my side, huddling against me and looking at the "man" with a look somewhere between fear and contempt. "I assume you can sense that they have no trace of symbiote within either of them." I spared him only a glance before looking down to my Karmabai. He snorted softly, straightening his posture. "You changed them before, then removed your--PESTILENCE." I affected a look of hurt and indignation. "I did not! You should know better than that. Don't your people tell you anything? You should know that such large overhauls require that the symbiote don't leave." Which was only true in a SENSE, but, again, he didn't need to know that. "No, these two are here completely of their own free will. As will as many of the rest of the planet's inhabitants as possible. We might, I admit, have to create a few drones--but they'll be happy, well cared-for. No loving god could treat his subjects--even his drones--any less, wouldn't you agree?" "You. Are. No. God..." he hissed, and once again I would have sworn I saw more steam than what would have been possible solely from exhaling. He took two steps closer, bringing him within striking distance, though I stood my ground and kept that smile on my face. "Know this--if I EVER sense, or even hear a vague allusion, that ANY creature on this world down to microbes are EVER hurt by you, I will rip your symbiote from you and send it AND its host into Sol's embrace. Am. I. CLEAR?" With as much audacity as I could muster, I reached up and pinched his cheek. "Clear as crystal," I replied cheerily, dipping into vernacularism a bit more than I liked, but it achieved the goal of needling him even further. In a burst of flame he soared into the sky, and I am VERY sure I heard him roar in the distance. I smiled, hugging my devotees to me, watching the creature's trail of fire dissipate. "<Let's build my empire and bring my fellow gods to Earth, shall we?>" I said to the girls, and they grinned at me. "<Yes, Master,>" they said in unison. END OF CHAPTER SIX