Grapeshot Pantheon

by Dragon Cobolt

  Meg’s wings flared. “Your son touched an ancient artifact that sucked him into Purgatory, an alien laboratory used to research the gods of ancient Earth in safety. The gods overthrew their jailers but never learned the reasons behind their imprisonment, and the surviving aliens integrated with Purgatorian society and slowly forgot their history over the centuries. Dragged into this world, Liam met me – Megara – and saved my life. We became lovers and started doing odd jobs for the god Sobek. Over time, Liam was able to bring Earth innovations to Purgatory and became the leader of a small city state called Babylon and has been the steadfast opponent of Ares, the Greek god of War and current biggest douche in the universe. We got married, and have two children.” She smiled, slightly. “Which means I’m your daughter in law. Hi.” She nodded.

  “T-That was... concise,” Lucy said, slowly.

  Meg grinned. “While my fun loving personality often obscures the fact, I was trained in debate and rhetoric and logic. Also, I’ve studied the classics. Plato, Socrates, and now Einstein, Hawking, Descartes...”

  “She pawed through my iPhone,” Liam said, grinning.

  “Wait, did you say-” Lucy started.

  Meg lifted up her hand, flashing a golden wedding band that looked as if it had come right off the shelf in some high end jewelry shop. “Tada!”

  Lucy looked at her. Then she looked at Liam. Then she looked back at Meg. Slowly, she started to smile.

  “C-Can I get you anything to drink, Meg?”

  Meg opened her mouth. Liam coughed. Meg pouted. “Water.” She elbowed Liam. “Spoilsport. It’s not like she’s my biological mother.”

  Lucy chose to not understand that.

  In the kitchen, Lucy poured out some tap water. Meg watched with clear fascination, whistling quietly as she took the water. She drank it and sighed, smacking her lips.

  “Y-You said kids?” Lucy asked.

  Liam coughed and hemmed and hawed.

  Meg smiled. “One’s the daughter of Liam’s friend and lover, Liviana of Sparta. She’s the daughter of Ares, but she hates him. Don’t worry about that.” She nodded. “She had a child with a lizardman general named Brax. When Brax died, Liam took on the role of Dad. And I’m Marion’s honorary Mom.” She nodded.

  Lucy’s eyes brimmed with tears. She breathed in, then out, trying to control her voice. On the one hand, she wanted to ask Meg pointed questions about her casual attitude towards her son cheating on her. On the other hand, she couldn’t begin to express how deeply proud she was of Liam taking care of an orphan. “And how did Liv die?”

  “Oh, she didn’t die,” Meg said.

  “But you said-” Lucy’s brow furrowed.

  “Liv is not a super motherly type,” Liam said, sounding like he was being strangled slowly to death. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

  “Anywho, the other kid is Brax. He’s the son of Liam and another one of his lovers, Fizit!” Meg said, cheerfully as she reached over to fill her glass again. She cooed happily. “Man, taps are ama-”

  Lucy slammed her hands on the counter. “Liam Sebastian Vanderbilt!”

  “Your middle name is Sebastian?” Meg hissed, her eyes widening.

  Liam held up his hands as his mother turned on. Now, she couldn’t keep her anger out of her eyes. “How could you? You’re married!” she snarled. “I could understand straying once, even if it is very disappointing.” She shook her head. “But this? Twice!?”

  “Technically,” Meg said. “Liam’s up to the low twenties in terms of girls.”

  “Meg!” Liam squawked as Lucy lifted her hand to slap him. She clenched her fist and forced her hand down. She never hit Liam before, not once. She wasn’t going to do it now, even if he was, apparently, a philandering monster. With two kids as well! She thought she had raised him better than that.

  Meg sighed. “Okay, while it is fun watching Liam squirm, I need to come clean...” She grinned. “I like to watch.”

  Lucy turned to face Meg, her brow furrowing.

  “I like to watch Liam! You know, bang other women,” Meg said, cheerfully.

  Lucy gaped at her.

  “O-Oh,” she said.

  A long, pregnant silence filled the room, interrupted only by Meg filling her glass from the tap again and drinking the water down with a happy sigh. She set the glass down and smiled.

  “So, it wasn’t cheating,” she said. Her wings flared. “Liam’s all good.”

  Lucy blinked. “I feel like I need to sit down again.”

  Once she was seated, Liam took her hand.

  “Purgatory is a very different place from Earth,” he said, slowly. “But I’m proud of almost everything I did there. I’ve saved people, helped people. Met the woman I love.” He smiled at Meg, who blushed slightly. Lucy looked at her in wonder. She had thought that there’d be nothing in the world that could make that woman blush. But Liam’s simple admission of love had set her cheeks as scarlet as if she had been, well, any girl from down the road. Her wings flared outwards and Lucy blinked slowly as she realized that she was seeing a woman...mantle. And preen.

  Like a bird.

  That was surrealism on-top of surrealism.

  “Where are these other women? Liv and, uh, who did you say was the mother of...” She paused. “Wait, you named him after the general?”

  Liam nodded. “General Brax saved my life.” He paused. “After trying to kill me a few times. But, uh, Liv did the same, so it’s... okay?” He trailed off, looking at Lucy’s expression. He grinned sheepishly. “Purgatory!” He spread his hands, like he was on a vaudeville stage.

  “Who's his mother?” Lucy asked.

  “Fizit,” Liam said. “She’s, uh, you’ll like her. Are you feeling up to meeting the rest of them?”

  Lucy breathed in a slow, shuddering breath, held it for a heart beat, then let it out. “No. But we might as well take the plunge.” She smiled at Liam, who grinned and sprang to his feet.

  As he headed outside, Lucy looked at Meg. Meg smiled at her.

  “So, uh, who was the Asian girl?” Lucy asked.

  “Oh, that’s Simone. Well, Lieutenant Fong,” Meg said. “She was the CO of the team the USA sent to recover Liam. He fucked her too!”

  Chapter Three

  Fizit groaned as warm water sluiced along her shoulders, easing aches and pains she hadn’t even known existed. She was not normally inclined to sapphism, but she had to admit, Meg had a point. Even if it had taken four eyebrow waggles, two serendipitous elbowing, and Meg cornering her at the end of the evening for Fizit to admit it.

  Liam’s mother was attractive.

  But that hadn’t made the meeting any less fraught and awkward. Fizit had let Brax break the ice, confident that an ancient truism of children and grandparents would hold water, even on the alien world of Earth. And she had been right.

  Grandparents loved children.

  They could get all the fun parts – cuddling, laughing at their silly comments, playing peek-a-boo, and so on. And then when the tiresome parts – such as forcing Brax to actually go to bed and sleep – came up, they could leave and let the parents take over. But it wasn’t forcing her son into bed that had made Fizit so tired. It was the simple fact that California was freezing. Humans measured temperatures in a dizzying number of ways. Her favorite was Celsius, as it was the most logical. So, of course, the United States would use Fahrenheit. But whether it was 60 or 15 degrees, it all translated to the same awful, awful cold.

  Which is why Fizit was fairly sure that she would spend the rest of the day in this shower, unless someone came and pried her out.

  The door to the shower room opened and Fizit turned her head, her frills lifting curiously. She grinned as she saw Liam slipping into the room. He had not come with a crowbar, so she figured that she’d get at least ten more minutes of this bliss. Liam bumped the door closed and smiled at her. “Brax is still asleep,” he whispered. “And Mom’s downstairs getting breakfast ready.”

  “Oh?” Fizit arched
an eyebrow ridge.

  Liam grabbed at his belt buckle, grunting as he started fiddling with it. Fizit’s body tingled slightly. She felt as if Liam hadn’t touched her in years. It was closer to days. But the stress of travel had added subjective time to that scale far out of proportion to reality. She licked her muzzle and realized that there was an advantage to human clothing beyond the fact it protected them from their beastly weather.

  There was a delicious anticipation in watching Liam fumble his way out of his clothes. First, Liam had gotten the belt buckle unhooked. The quiet rasp of leather on cloth was like an aural version of a slow lick along her spine. It told her body what was coming and her body responded with a wave of arousal that was nearly dizzying. Then Liam had to undo the button, then yank down the zipper. Fizit turned so that her back was pressed to the tile wall of the shower. Her tail coiled around her ankles as she started to breath in slow, steady pants.

  The faint bzzzip of metal on metal made her nipples ache.

  Liam slid his pants down, standing in boxers that were tented by his arousal. The half-concealed cock was a new level of excitement. Fizit’s tail wriggled and twitched, almost knocking over several bottles of hair lotion. A new delight followed: Liam undoing button after button after button on his shirt. Every button exposed more and more of his muscular chest. She could see the scars.

  Including one that she was fairly sure one of her assassins had left.

  A tiny twinge of guilt bloomed in her, remembering the way Lucy had asked her, when they had been alone, about the times she had tried to kill Liam. Fizit gulped. Then Liam’s shirt hit the ground and the glass door of the shower opened and Fizit was able to forget everything but his body. He stepped in- then clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide.

  “Mmmrph!” He grabbed the shower faucet and twisted it. Hard. The water dropped to merely acceptable temperatures. Fizit tried to not pout.

  Liam drew his hand away from his mouth. “O...www...” He closed his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace. “Fizit. Why were you boiling yourself?”

  “It’s freezing out there!” She hissed.

  “It’s California!” Liam laughed. Fizit harrumphed and stuck her nose into the air.

  Liam decided to get some revenge by sliding his hands down and cupping her ass. He drew her close. Water sluiced along her feathers, slicking them back against her neck and her scalp. Then his mouth pressed to her muzzle. She tilted her head, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as he squeezed her ass firmly enough to drive an excited growl from her. Her tail reached up and she gently nudged the water. It shifted from adequate to slightly close to warm enough. Liam didn’t seem to notice.

  But then again, he was kissing her. She was rather confident he’d have missed a godkiller going off right now.

  When she drew her mouth back, panting, she murmured. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you.”

  Liam picked up one of the lotion bottles. He squirted the thick, semi-transparent goop into his palm and Fizit’s nose flared. Even through the water, she could smell just how fruity that scented. Then she hissed as his palm pressed against her breast. His hand had to make several curving motions to actually cover and coat her breast in the soap. But the feeling of the slightly cool gel slipping between her scales was hard to describe. It was soothing and slightly discomforting at the same time. Then water sluiced along her skin and it mixed with the soap to create a frothing, sudsy mess. It coated her green breasts and dripped along her yellow belly, making her shimmer as if she had been oiled.

  From the way Liam’s dick bumped against her thighs, it was quite effective.

  Fizit stepped back. She started to spread the suds across her scales, groaning in pure bliss as she felt the mixture of warm water and warming soap, soaking into her. She grinned at Liam and purred. “Your government is keeping secrets from their own citizens. That’s going to make a big part of your job hard.”

  “Oh?” Liam asked. His voice sounded faintly hoarse.

  Fizit turned around. Her voice was a wicked, sultry purr as she lifted her tail. “Get my ass too.” She licked her muzzle. Liam didn’t bother wasting time with applying soap to his hand. He simply picked up the bottle and squirted it against the curve of her back. Fizit hissed and arched her spine even more, thrusting her ass upwards as if she was in heat. Again. The memory of her first time with Liam made her loins ache. Then Liam started to rub soap into her ass and she found it almost impossible to scheme.

  Almost.

  “We’re not just here for diplomacy,” she hissed around the pleasured moans that wanted to pour from her throat as Liam grabbed the shower head. Detaching it, he started to fiddle with the knobs. Fizit was about to complain – water was no longer hitting her back or shoulders. Then Liam pressed the head against her thighs, the jets flush with her sex. Fizit’s eyes widened and she had to dig her fingernails into the tiles, her claws leaving behind white scratches as she sprawled against the wall. Her hips bucked and she hissed in pure bliss. “Ahhhhhhh!”

  “Like that?” Liam’s voice was smug.

  “Hotter!” Fizit hissed.

  “Seriously?” Liam sounded taken aback. “I don’t-”

  “Hotter, you bastard,” Fizit groaned, bucking her hips against the water jets flushing across her sex. It was an infuriating and divine feeling. On the one hand, she had never felt so many points of contact. But the water didn’t seek out her centers of pleasure, it didn’t pay special attention to anything. It was an endless, endless tease. But as Liam twisted the knob, at the very least it was warm enough. She closed her eyes to thin slits and looked out the window.

  The sky was cold and gray and cloudy – which made it easier to deal with. Significantly easier. She rocked her hips against Liam and his nozzle, and managed at last to say what she needed to.

  “We’re here, ah, to make sure Purgatorian interests are, ah, able to stand up to, nnnhfuckyes... to Earth ones. That means corporate trade deals. That means, ah, fuck, fuck!” She closed her eyes tightly. “Liam, fuck me! Just stop teasing me and fuck me right fucking now.”

  Liam, bless him, didn’t wait. He simply slotted the nozzle back in line, aimed it at her, then grabbed her hips. His cock slipped along her dripping sex, grinding up and down, trying to find the right angle.

  “And we can’t do that,” she said. “If you ah fucking gods yes!” She screamed. She couldn’t help herself. Liam had hilted himself in her. His balls rested against her clit and her fingernails were spreading spiderweb cracks in the tile. Liam’s hands tightened on her hips and his face pressed against her neck. He drew a long, slow lick from neck to jaw to her ear-tuft. His voice was husky.

  “The press release is later this week,” he whispered. “We have time.”

  ***

  Lucy looked up, her eyes wide, her hands holding both halves of the cracked egg. The yoke sat on the counter, between the piping hot frying pan and the open carton. Meg, who was sniffing curiously at her cup of coffee, said: “Man, you guys build cheap houses. Why are the walls so freaking thin?”

  ***

  Fizit felt her breasts almost slapping against her jaw as she rocked against Liam, yipping in time with the thrust of his hips and his balls against her. His hands had slid from her thighs to her shoulders, rooting her in place so he could use every inch of his strength on her. And it was divine. She let Liam use her and felt her own climaxes roar through her. They came one after the other after the other, stretched to the breaking point by the feeling of his member inside of her, by the fierce grip on her shoulders, by the feeling of water skidding along her shoulders and her feather. All of it combined to make one long, perfect moment of purest bliss.

  Liam managed to last long enough for Fizit to hear her voice crack.

  Then his balls clenched and he came. Hard. The feeling of his seed bursting within her, filling her to the brim, was enough that Fizit would have screamed again. But Liam’s hand had cupped her head and turned her to the side, so that he cou
ld lean over his shoulder and capture her mouth in a single, desperate moment. She shuddered and mewled into his mouth.

  It was a sloppy kiss.

  That didn’t make it any less perfect.

  Liam slowly drew out of her, panting heavily. Fizit whined quietly, then gasped as she started to feel the steady drip of his seed, slipping from between her well fucked lips. She grinned shakily. “So, we spend today researching companies?” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” Liam said, nodding.

  “Sounds, ah, fun,” Fizit said, her eyes closing.

  The boiler, at that moment, chose to run out of hot water. Fizit squalled in horror.

  ***

  Fort O’Neill was, like many forts in the United States, not exactly fortified. The days of wooden forts and barricades to keep out Native American raiding parties were long passed. That didn’t mean there weren’t ways to keep the place safe. Watch towers and fences kept out anyone who wasn’t there on military business. Not that there were many of those. Wyoming was a state made for private places – with a population so low that it could have been a rounding error in most of China, it had more land than people.

  Which was why it was very odd for Private Millard to see a big-rig, six wheeler truck approaching the perimeter. It was moving over the broad, flat plains at a brisk pace, kicking up dust and bits of earth behind its thick wheels. For a while, he had thought it was just a dust devil, kicked up by the endless winds that roared across the plains. But as the shape of the truck resolved, he had picked up his walkie talkie and called it in.

  The fort’s CO had heard the news and, through the chain of command, told Private Millard and the rest of the grunts on guard duty to keep an eye on the truck. Several soldiers – some in field dress, others in working uniforms – got into a jeep and drove it to the front gates. The plan was clear. They’d go out and meet the truck. The only problem was, well…

  The truck.

  “Uh, sir,” Millard said into his walkie talkie. “The truck’s not slowing down.”