by M J Marstens
That’s how serious it is that we make Zahra come first.
She’ll be a tyrant if she wins.
Saturn moves behind Zahra to pin her to him with his mouth still enclosed around her neck. I quickly get to my knees and spread our Venus’ legs wide. Her gorgeous pink pussy winks back at me and I feel myself salivating for a taste.
I sweep a leisurely lick and nearly fold under the sweet taste of her nectar.
Over and over, I slurp and lap at her cunt. Eventually, when I feel her unraveling, I move my focus to her clit, biting on the engorged center, while pumping two fingers inside. I can feel her genuinely trying to resist her orgasm, but I’m persistent.
I send her the mental image of me coming, knowing my undoing will be hers and then I tell Saturn to enter her. I pull back just as he slams his cock deep inside of her and she fucking goes up in flames. Through my bonds with both Saturn and Zahra, I’m awash in pleasure.
I can feel Zahra’s orgasm zipping through her body and Saturn’s delight as her pussy squeezes his dick.
“Hurry up and finish!” I roar out loud.
Saturn barely unseats himself from within our Venus, before I shove myself deep into her wet warmth. My eyes close and roll back in my head as I grip her hips and bodily lift her off the ground. Her upper body is supported by Saturn and I go to town, punishing her pink perfection with hard, deep thrusts that have us both panting.
Barely finished with her previous orgasm, I feel another start to grow inside of her.
With the last vestiges of my control, I push her towards it.
By some miracle, she shatters before me and I quickly follow her over the edge.
Saturn lowers Zahra to the ground and regretfully, I pull out of her heavenly pussy to follow them down. We lay in an exhausted heap of sweaty limbs and sated smiles.
“We win,” I announce lazily.
“How many times did you come?” Zahra asks me in the same languid voice.
“Um, once,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well I came twice, so I would say I won.”
“Fuck, she’s got us there,” Saturn mentally conveys.
“But she doesn’t ever need to know it,” I return.
Zahra laughs.
“I already know,” she tells me in a terrible Darth Vader parody.
Fuck, she’s getting a hang of this soul bond connection.
But I can tell she’s not one hundred percent adept. She still misses a lot of my internal dialogue and conversations with Saturn. Zahra also seems unaware of when I’m in her head. Usually, it’s purely chaotic amusement, but I catch snippets of seriousness.
Our bond worries her.
She can feel the absolute pain of losing Sunny and Jupiter. She acknowledges my pain is on a different level and is terrified of what will happen if she loses me.
Or bonds with another brother and loses them.
She thinks she’s done a disservice to us both.
I try not to be hurt by her thoughts.
I know it’s not because she doesn’t love me, but because she loves me, that she wishes we weren’t bonded. She’s trying to protect me. And herself.
“We need to get to the tenth dimension and find Uranus, in case he needs our help. Chances are Lina is there,” Saturn says, cutting into my thoughts.
“Ok,” Zahra agrees. “I got another fist in the reserves for Queen Coo Coo’s ass, if need be.”
Both Saturn and I blanch at the image.
“You guys ready?”
“Just like that?” Saturn asks.
Zahra looks confused, but I know what he means.
“Yes, just like that,” I emphasize.
“What?” Zahra asks, still befuddled.
I personally think that must be her automatic setting, besides mouthy.
“Saturn is surprised at how easily you manipulate time and space,” I grunt, trying to talk and listen to the God of Control in my head. “He thinks because you have pure Luminary powers mixed with Jupiter’s expansion energies, you’re like a. . .”
“Luminary on ‘roids?” she supplies.
“Exactly, and that’s not only why you can move back and forth between the dimensions, but also move us without being direct. If you were bonded to all of us, you could easily use your expansion powers to tell everyone to go direct, and I can’t reach anyone without a portal being open. Without a portal open, we are sealed within the dimension and cannot access our soul bonds, but Jupiter could because of his powers. For now, we will continue to go up in dimension and get the twins and Pluto so we can all go direct and head back to the third dimension.
“Good plan. Let’s go crash Bitchhole’s domicile, then,” Zahra enthuses.
She’s way too excited for a chance meeting with Lina again, I think.
“Maybe she enjoyed fisting her,” Saturn offers, his thought echoing in my head.
“Oh, I did,” is Zahra’s mental response.
CHAPTER 8
ZAHRA
I’d like to say Lina’s realm is as crappy as her attitude; full of crazed maniacs and super-white people who think they’re really silver. Of course, it’s not. Bitchhole’s domicile is, in short, a wonderland. ‘The Realm of Jewels’ hardly does the place justice. Imagine the moon in all its craterous beauty. . . now make everything made of gemstones. All kinds. That is Lina’s world. A mouth-dropping sight of rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, amethysts, and a hundred other stones and colors I can’t name. They glitter in the soft light of the world, like an unseen full moon is beaming down with gentle illuminance.
No wonder the petty cuntcushion is so smug.
Caed must pick up on my thoughts and relay them to Khal, because both men look down at me with amused expressions. I screw my face up into a grimace, making them grin more. I seriously need to figure out how to block Caed from reading my every thought. Then, I need to learn how to school my features into the best poker face. Then, I need to get a barrel so I have somewhere to bend everyone over when I unexpectedly fuck them over. . . because no one knows what I’m thinking, and I’ve become a ninja.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Caed suddenly exclaims, scrubbing his hands down his face, while groaning.
“What’s wrong?” I ask in worry.
“My guess: you,” Khal offers.
“You know what, you cosmic cumbubble, go fucking pop yourself! Not everything is always me or my fault. Right, Caed?”
He doesn’t look at me and instead addresses Khal.
“I’m not sure why, but she was dressed like a ninja and she was fucking someone over what looked like an A & W root beer barrel.”
“She was fantasizing about ninja pegging?”
Both men stare at me, waiting for yet another explanation.
I kind of just want a root beer float.
“Don’t we have shit to do?” I remind.
“Right, I really didn’t want to know anyway,” Khal claims. “From what Sunny told us, Lina has an Emerald Palace over that mountain ridge. Chances are, she’s there, recuperating. Mars and I will go investigate. You need to find Uranus. He will probably be in the complete opposite direction in an attempt to avoid Lina, should she be here.”
Of course Bitchhole has an Emerald Palace. She’s the freaking Wicked Witch of the Whole Universe. The Wizard of Assholeness. Which means I’m Dorothy. I need a Toto. Or a flying monkey. Or one of those dudes from the Lollipop Brigade to bring me a sucker.
“But I don’t want to split up. I want to help. I’m stronger,” I remind petulantly, taking my head back to more important matters.
“Saturn and I are strong together. And we’re only going to look. Not engage. We need to be silent, stealthy, hidd-”
“You mean like a ninja?”
“She seems really hung up on that ninja fantasy,” Khal remarks.
Caed snorts.
“I sure as shit hope not. I love you, little girl, but you’re not fucking my ass.”
“Even if I have a big co-”
/> “Enough! Jesus, Zahra, shut it before you grow something to put all of us to shame. Now just go find Uranus, please.”
I frown fiercely at the man before trudging off to find the rebellious half of my twins. I make sure to toss a glare or two back at Caed and Khal, but both seem unfazed by murderous looks. They stay there, making sure I’m gone. Well, Zahra Delsol doesn’t forget. She also holds a grudge. And talks about herself in third person when pissed. One day, when neither expect it, I’m going to manifest the most impressive dick known to the universe. And then, I’m going to bend them over my root beer barrel and rail the shit out of them. It’ll be the best surprise butt-sex moment in the history of unsuspecting anal.
I turn my attention to finding Uran, content with my sadistic plans for the future.
I don’t have a connection to him, and Caed’s shut himself off from me mentally, so I can’t follow him and Khal. I wonder what those two are really up to, because it makes more sense that they find Uran rather than me, since both have a soul bond with him. I, on the other hand, could search for Lina just fine. . . since I unfortunately have a link with her, too. Damn bossy assrashes. They can’t tell me what to do. I march back to where we were originally, but of course, they’re gone. I reach out as craftily as I can to sense Caed without him knowing, but instead, feel an odd tug inside my stomach.
Unnerved, I quickly look down, but nothing looks amiss. I look around, in case I’m missing something, but it appears I’m alone. Between us, Trust Tree Sisters, I’m terrified. With my luck, Bitchhole can make herself invisible and has stabbed me with an invisible shank she made out of garnets. I cup my stomach in an attempt to keep my innards from spilling out.
A minute or two passes and I realize my guts are perfectly intact. I straighten up and wait. This time when I feel the tug, I recognize it for what it is: a soul link. It’s so very faint in comparison to what I feel with Caed, I have no idea whose it is. Then it hits me: Lina! I walk off in the direction of the tug, formulating a new sodomizing plan. It’s time that Bitchhole got a taste of her own medicine. In fact, she’s the first person I should bend over my root beer barrel.
Paybacks are a bitch.
A motherfucking ninja-surprise-butt-sex bitch.
As I follow the tug, I expect it to get stronger as I get closer, but nothing really changes. Except, as I get closer, I feel a sense of. . . urgency. It kicks my feet up into a jog and then a dead sprint. I must subconsciously be really excited about the idea of, what did Khal call it? Oh yes, ninja pegging. I must be really excited at the idea of ninja pegging Lina into dust if I’m actually running. Anything beyond a sedate walk is the bane of my existence. My gym teacher probably thought I was hemorrhaging to death because I always had my period and couldn’t run laps.
I follow the tug until I come upon a cave entrance. Unease fills me. We all remember what happened the last time I was in moon cave, right? Oh, you don’t? Well, here’s a refresher: Lina tried to kill me. With a giant pair of bloodied pliers. Because I called her hoary. That might not actually be the underlying reason, but that’s moot. The bottom line of the recap: she tried to freaking killing me. Now that I think about it, I’ve had some pretty close calls with that hoar (that’s just a really white person). Do I really want another?
Trust me when I say that my logical side (and I do have one) says no, but this tug inside of me says fuck logic; prepare to die, bitch. I’m really not a fan of this tug, but I follow it into the eerily, glowing cave. I walk from cavern to cavern, searching. I finally come to a wall and I know Lina is on the other side. I’m so much better at sleuthing than Caed and Khal. I found the Bitchhole first, but now, how do I sneak up and spy on her? I need to make a hole in the cave wall so I can see.
A drill will make too much noise. . .
What else can I use to make a hole?
I almost smack myself on the forehead. I don’t need any tools; I’m a goddess, for fuck’s sake. I’ve got the power. I hum the nineties song in my head while manifesting a peeping hole. I look inside what appears to be a closed chamber. The room is not very large and seems empty. I stand there for a good ten minutes, staring, feeling the tug, but seeing nothing. Finally, I say fuck it (that book is still empowering me, today) and manifest myself into the chamber, hands ready in a kung fu fighting position. When Lina doesn’t attack me, I cautiously lower my arms and look around.
The stone here is different. Smoother and variegated in coloring from gray to white to a creamy light yellow. It’s moonstone, I realize. And surrounding the moonstone are pearls of every size and color. These are Lina’s gems; the power stones of the Moon. I walk up and reach out a hand to touch one of the enameled walls and I can feel the power thrum under my palm. I glide my hand along the moonstone and let out a startled yelp of surprise when another hand shoots out from inside the moonstone to rest against mine.
I fall to my pink ass and gape as a face presses against the gemmed wall and slowly swims into focus.
It’s Vesta.
Or Mrs. Gerty, I should say.
Slowly, another person forms next to her.
Edgar, in his Chiron form.
“Mrs. Gerty? Edgar? Guys? Can you hear me?”
I see their mouths moving, but no sound comes out. Mrs. Gerty is moving her hands rapidly, and I wonder if she thinks I know sign language. I don’t, in case you were wondering. I never even once checked out a book to give her this impression. I see her blank, white eyes flash with frustration when I stand there doing nothing. How the hell did they get in here anyway? Are they stuck or imprisoned? Edgar the Centaur leaves and Mrs. Gerty again attempts a futile conversation.
Eventually, she gives up.
Smart woman.
We stand there, staring at one another; me, wondering how to set her free, and her, probably wondering why I had to be the one to stumble upon her. Suddenly, Edgar comes back into focus, and he pushes three unearthly women into the moonstone. They remind me of Vesta, but their coloring is all unique. Where Vesta is all white, one is all brown. Another is orange. And the last is a lovely violet-pink that I envy.
How come she gets to be the rockin’ magenta?!
Vesta seems to be waiting for some kind of reaction, and I indicate to my arm, hoping she understands why I’m wondering how I got stuck being bubblegum pink while this new chick gets a much better shade of the horrid color. She glares at me like I’m stupid, and I resist the urge to flip her off. Mrs. Gerty better watch her ass before I decide to add it to my barrel-bending list. She starts signing again, but this time, it looks like she’s drawing pictures.
Over and over she makes them.
A diamond with a plus sign below it.
An asterisk with a plus sign below it.
And a question mark with a plus sign below it.
Then it hits me: these are the symbols for Pallas, Juno, and Ceres, asteroids used in astrology. Asteroids like Vesta and Chiron. Meaning. . . minor gods like Vesta and Chiron.
I have found the missing minor gods.
Or rather, I have stumbled upon them somehow.
That petty cuntcushion has trapped them in her power stones.
“Hold on, guys! I’m going to get help!”
I hope they can at least read lips and understand I’ll be back. I’m going to get Caed and Khal, and then we’re going to bust these five from their rocky prison.
CHAPTER 9
ZAHRA
For a second time, I dash off in a trot, mentally screaming Caed’s name. Hopefully, he can hear me. I use my expansion powers to search for the two men and just when I get a location, I smack into the two people I never hoped to see again.
North Node and South Node.
The flat-chested bitches who knocked me out and took me to the moon for Lina to kill.
These unholy skanks are definitely on my ninja pegging list.
Or my on-purpose-to-kill list.
I really don’t know when I became such a sodomizing murderer, but Lina and her peeps seem to bri
ng out the worst in me.
“Hello oncccce more, Earth girllllllll,” they hiss in their creepy unison voice.
“Ugh. Why didn’t the power of Christ compel you two?!”
“We do not know any Chrisssssssssst.”
“It’s a name for Jesus.”
“Who isssss thisssssss Jesssssssssusssssss?”
“Jesus H. Christ? And the H stands for Harold? That guy? You don’t know him? He’s one sweet dude. Can make water into wine and raise lifeless bitches from the dead.”
“Like zzzzzzzzzombiesssssss?”
“You guys know what zombies are, but not who Jesus is?”
“Yessssssssssss.”
“Ok, cool. That makes about as much sense as this conversation. What are you two Siamese-fucks up to?”
They frown in tandem.
“We are Nodesssssssss, not fucksssssssssss.”
“My bad. Whatcha Nodes up to?”
“We’re going to sssssssssssecure you for Moon.”
“Like how the minor gods are secured?”
“Yesssssssssssssssss.”
“Gotcha. When are you going to do this?”
They don’t answer me. Instead, both rush me, their heads swaying from side to side as they run. The sight might be hilarious if it weren’t filled with deadly intent. When they are a few feet from me, I do the only thing I can think of: I focus on their sad, flat, little chests. They would look so much better if they had bigger tatas. And a tan. And a better attitude. But definitely bigger tits would be a number one improvement.
No sooner than I think this and their chests start to. . . expand.
Both creepos come to an abrupt stop and look down in confusion. It quickly transforms into horror as their breasts grow into nice, perky C cups. And then Dolly Parton-sized melons. And then, like Violet Beauregard, those suckers just keep blowing up, until the Nodes topple over, weighed down by their own pendulous boobs. Like a couple of weeble-wobbles, their bodies dangle precariously over their quadruple Zs. It’s a train wreck watching them struggle to stand. I want to look away, but why would I? Also, I’ve changed my mind. The Nodes need to look into breast reduction.
They’re hissing like a couple of actual cats and I can see when they use their magic to counteract mine. Their breasts go from boulders to nothing in an instant and the two women crash into one another. Their foreheads collide, and the Nodes hit one another with such force that they knock themselves unconscious. Huh, gotta love Karma (when she’s not getting even with me, that is). I stare at their limp bodies and try not to laugh. From their necks to their navels, their skin is marred with horrendous stretchmarks.