Her breasts were full, her nipples ripe. The forked tongue
snaked out and circled them causing them to worry slightly. She
gasped as the tongue traced wet lines around her chest, then
surrounded one and squeezed it firmly. Her hips arched upward,
her own desires giving her away.
She passed a field with a mare in it. From the way the stallion
pranced she guessed that the mare was in heat. The thought of
the stallion being tormented by the mare caused her to smile.
Shades of her teasing many a man with her own sexuality. As she
drew closer she realized that it smelled as bad as the stallion,
ending the comparison right there.
Soon she came upon a scene of great beauty – gold strewn about
the mountain – works of art scattered carelessly – the dragon’s
horde. Out daring any to even touch it. Gnawed bones and shat-
tered armor showed what fate befell those attempting to claim
that horde.
I stepped triumphant into the final circle, the most intricately drawn. The chanting and drumming reached their peak and
stayed, and the fog of incense cleared, allowing me to see who
sat upon the dais, who sat upon the throne, who presided over the
proceedings.
The ancient texts named him Baphomet; Satan Mekratrig’s
warrior-duke. My sword and shield were limp in my grasp as I
looked up, as he was many hundreds of feet tall. His head was
the head of an ibex, with the outward-spiralling horns, gazing
inscrutably down upon me with the eyes of a beast. His shaggy
chest was traced with scars delineating his prowess in battle,
inflicted perhaps by a flaming sword. He stood, rising from his
throne, on the legs of a goat, stepping into the seventh pentacle
on cloven hooves. In his right hand he held a sword cold as ice,
and his left stroked his impossibly huge phallus. As the warrior-magus, he wielded the primal Wand, and his scent struck me a
nigh-physical blow with the power of his maleness. I staggered,
and could not bear the weight of my shield, letting it drop into
the abysmal pit below my feet, lost.
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The fourth circle held the Giant, who looked down at me and
grinned evilly. He threw a boulder at me, which I shattered with
a slap, and then I raised him off the ground as Heracles did to
Antaeus, and crushed the life out of him, redoubling my strength.
In the fifth circle, I slew the Minotaur by taking each of his
horns in a hand, and breaking open his skull. I was imbued with
the powers of a demigod at least by this time, walking into the
sixth circle, the one holding the dragon. The fight was hard,
the flames of the dragon almost enough to make me falter, but
then I realized that they were power too, and took them for my
own, absorbing it into my shield while I made my heart’s thrust
with my blade. The dragon’s blood fountained out, covering me,
and by its power my skin was made invulnerable like that unto the
skin of Achilleus.
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I awoke and prepared myself, my assigned valet dressing me
in the ceremonial armor for the High Mass that I was to attend.
It was heavy, gleaming, powerful, expensive. I would not [...]
My former boss was there too, of course, congratulating me on my
success-quite a change for a man who had had to struggle to keep
from denouncing me for being openly gay. The only reason he
struggled was because he realized my value to the company.
The extravagant doings finally came to an end in the early morn-
ing [...]
For a while, it looked like the trade negotiations were going to
be sunk by a major media blowup. Word reached the rest of the
alien delegation and got back to Ailouros. I was present in his
suite when his triple-great grandfather, the sovereign of all
Ailouros and Emperor of the Ailourian Hegemony called. The
hyperspatial waves [...]
Sexy chicks tortured by monstersOf course the snip had to get revenge. With that kind of anger
built up over years of being told by the society that he wasn’t
worth shit because he was gay, his only other choice was to
direct it onto the straights but he didn’t have the guts to do
that. He contacted a straight reporter he knew on the local
paper and the word also got back to a reporter for our local T.V.
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who was a bit less than two months short of being 18-even though
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Kontar and I were having dinner in a restaurant when the snippy
bitch queen showed up with the T.V. reporter, a cameraman and
the newspaper reporter in tow. Kontar knocked the reporter and
the cameraman clear across the restaurant with one blow of his
powerful hand pads. I was glad to see that he controlled himself
that much. If he had used much more force, we would have had two
dead men on our hands. I left the snippy queen writhing on the
floor after I knocked the wind out of him and left the reporter
with a broken jaw. I’d been waiting for the chance to do that
for years.
Another fear was allayed after I had put dinner on the table.
With those powerful teeth and jaws, he would have been able to
gobble his food directly from the plate. But whatever cultural
forces had operated during his people’s long climb to civiliza-
tion had apparently produced the custom of eating with utensils,
or else he had been [...]
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Witness:
Two enormous, glowing green eyes speared me as he turned his head
and I was momentarily lost in the twin pools of luminescent fire.
I recovered my awareness in time to see his eyes flick downward
to the bulge in my crotch. He leaned over towards me in a fluid,
feline motion. “The same reason you’re here,” he purred in my
ear, with an unusual accent.
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