[The Onic Empire 03] - Sinful Harvest

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  When he was older, he understood the woman was mating with the man, forcefully, but from what Kerrick remembered of the man’s face, he didn’t seem opposed to her possession. His eyes were open, gazing up at her almost worshipfully as he accepted her breast in his mouth. Even with her bulky, powerful body, the woman was extremely beautiful. For all Kerrick knew, she whacked the warrior’s head off in the next moment, but in that captured image, she was a powerful, primal goddess.

  Seasons later, Kerrick realized the woman in the painting was Varnatha. The picture in the book attempted to show her combined elements as the goddess of war and sex. What had upset Kerrick’s father was the erotic nature of the book; certainly, it wasn’t for children. Considering the rest of the images in that book, the one that had fascinated him had been fairly tame. When he’d grown older, Kerrick had tried to find a copy without success, but the mental image of Varnatha came instantly to mind. He was certain he could locate her likeness within the temple and plead his case to her.

  As he worked his way around the statues in the temple, he grew discouraged. There seemed to be far more homage paid to the gods. The few goddess statues he did find were small, tucked into hollows at odd angles, and in some cases, dusty. He started to wonder if there was a different temple for the goddesses.

  Just when he’d thoroughly lost hope, he stumbled across a tiny rendering of a woman with a blade held over her head. She was dressed as a warrior, but her full breasts were mostly exposed. Long hair pulled back from her face, then twined around her form. This had to be Varnatha. And there was no way his penis was going to fit anywhere in the tiny statue. The entire thing from base to the tip of her sword was about the same size as his erect cock.

  Darting his gaze left and right, verifying that he was alone, Kerrick gingerly plucked the tiny black statue from the niche in the wall. A thick layer of dust obscured her features. So much was packed into her mouth, she appeared to be choking on the grime. Carefully, Kerrick wiped the mess away, using the edge of his simple slave shirt to clean every nook and cranny.

  He couldn’t help but smile as he rubbed the fabric over her incredible, gravity-defying breasts. Once he’d wiped some filth away, he realized that someone had spent a great deal of time rendering her in exquisite detail. She had individual strands of hair and delicate eyelashes lifting up from her compelling gaze. Her nipples were large and realistically pebbled. Her belly curved with a layer of muscles that drew his cleaning finger right down to her demurely covered sex.

  Much to his chagrin, he became aroused. He would have blamed Tavarus for his reaction, but he was not within Ker-rick’s mind. He rolled his eyes, berating himself for letting a statue excite him. If he were still a young boy, he could understand such a response, but he was a bit too old for this. However, the more he cleaned, the harder he became, and the more his balls throbbed with a clamoring need for climax. After this morning, he didn’t think he would ever be able to achieve orgasm again, but here he was, randy and ready.

  Kerrick took a deep breath, hoping to steady himself, but that only drew more of the drugged air into his lungs. With a shake of his head, he glanced down and discovered Varnatha glaring up at him.

  “You draw me from Jarasine into this puny vessel?” She shoved her sword into the scabbard at her waist, then placed her hands on her ample hips. Her breasts swayed with her movements as she looked over her tiny body.

  Shocked, Kerrick almost dropped her. He fumbled his grip on the base until he steadied his hand. Again, he darted his gaze around, but everyone was on the other side of the temple with Ariss.

  “Forgive me, goddess Varnatha.” Respectfully, Kerrick placed her back into the hollow in the wall, then knelt with his head lowered. “I humbly ask for an audience with you.”

  “That’s better.”

  When he looked up, she considered her surroundings.

  “This is where they’ve placed me?” Varnatha said something vulgar and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, fully exposing both breasts. Her eyes went wide when she glanced down at her ample bosom. Parting her lips in exasperation, she cupped her massive boobs, and snarled, “What is this?” She held them out, shaking them at Kerrick. Both big, hard nipples pointed right at him like tiny accusing fingers. “Mine are big, but this is absurd!”

  Mesmerized by the undulating waves of her proffered breasts, it took him a moment to respond. “I did not carve your likeness, goddess Varnatha.”

  “What is it with the acolytes and their obsession with gigantic breasts?” She fondled her nipples. “Hmm. Well, they are nicely done. Very perky. Still,” she said, removing her hands from them, “if my breasts were this large, I’d hardly be able to fight with such skill.” Her gaze lowered to him. “Who are you?”

  He bowed his head respectfully. “I am Kerrick. I have come to seek your aid.”

  “A favor. Of course. No one ever summons me to give me something.” She sighed. “Stand up, let me look at you.”

  Kerrick stood with his arms held loosely at his sides.

  “No, no, not like that. Disrobe. I can hardly see you through all those clothes.”

  Kerrick could just imagine what would happen if he were discovered alone in the temple, naked, before a statue of a goddess.This is how denigrating nicknames came about. But, she was a goddess. He had no idea what she could do to him if he disobeyed.

  Kerrick slipped off his shirt.

  Varnatha let out a long, low oo of pleasure. “Very nice.” Her tiny eyes traveled over his chest. “Now the pants.” She placed one arm under her breasts and lifted the other so her forefinger and thumb cupped her chin. Her pose was one of deep consideration, as if her willingness to grant him favors rested entirely on his body being pleasing to her.

  With a fortifying breath, Kerrick worked at the drawstring knot. In his haste, he only tightened it. He didn’t think she would chew the knot apart like Ariss had done.

  “I’m waiting.” Varnatha tapped her foot against the stone base of her perch.

  Frantically, he struggled with the string.

  “Get over here.” She pulled her tiny sword.

  He wasn’t sure he wanted her hacking about around his crotch even though she was the goddess of war and probably very handy with her blade. What if her aim was off? Yet again, he didn’t have much choice. Gingerly, Kerrick stepped forward. Varnatha lifted her cirvant and slashed at the knot, deftly splitting it in two without touching anything else.

  She shoved her blade away, and commanded, “Off.”

  Kerrick slid down his pants.

  Varnatha whistled. “You did enjoy polishing me up, didn’t you?” Her voice was playful as she kept her gaze riveted to his penis. “Perhaps being this size has some advantages. I can honestly say I’ve never seen one as large as I am.” With a flick of her hand, she motioned him closer.

  His horrible nickname would only be more perverse if they caught him rubbing his penis on a little statue of a woman. Still, forward he stepped until his cock pointed right at Varnatha’s tiny face.

  She made several comments in a language he didn’t grasp, but the rhythm of the words sounded similar to what he’d said during the Harvest ritual. She reached out and touched the tip with her tiny hands, making him twitch.

  “What I could do with you if we were a bit more equal in size.” Flashing him a lusty smile, she flicked her hand dismis-sively. “You may cover yourself.”

  Kerrick gratefully yanked on his pants and shirt. With the string cut, he had to wrestle the two loose ends of the pants together and tie them in a small knot that probably wouldn’t last long. As Ariss suggested, he had to find pants with a different type of fastener.

  “Tell me why you’ve summoned me.”

  Haltingly, he said, “Tavarus has been possessing my body.”

  One brow drew up. “I wouldn’t mind playing with your body myself.”

  This was not the reaction he’d been looking for. Given her flirtatious nature, maybe the gods didn’t bond as humans d
id. All his effort might be for nothing. Still, he had to try. Softly, he said, “Tavarus has been possessing my body in order to mate.”

  Varnatha went very still. “He what?” Her voice lowered dangerously. Her face became a controlled mask.

  Now Kerrick was getting somewhere. “Tavarus is obsessed with my woman.” His words sounded unbearably arrogant, and almost asinine to his own ears, but he gave up eloquence for succinctness. Ariss wasn’t technically his woman, but he wasn’t sure he could make Varnatha understand their complicated relationship. In an effort to curry her favor, he gave himself adequate ties to Ariss so that she would understand why he cared.

  One eye twitched down as Varnatha gritted her teeth. After she peered intently at the floor, she shifted her gaze to him. Calmly, she asked, “And what, exactly, does he do to your woman?”

  Kerrick wasn’t sure what she was asking for. Hopefully not a blow-by-blow description of his mating technique. “Well, he says he’s the father of her child, which is bad enough, but now he won’t leave her alone. He abuses her with my body.”

  Varnatha withdrew her tiny sword. “Where is he?”

  This was what he wanted: an angry, vengeful warrior woman who would rein Tavarus in. Kerrick pointed the direction of the throne. “He’s with her now.”

  “Show me.” Varnatha lifted her leg as if to take a step, then slammed it down. She bellowed another expletive. “I can’t do anything in this form!” Her cool stone gaze swung to him. “How do you expect me to do anything when I only come up to your shin?”

  Kerrick hadn’t thought she’d need physical form. “I thought you could just do something to him in Jarasine?”

  Waving her sword about, shaking her breasts with her motions, Varnatha said, “Do you want me to stop him or not?”

  He did. “I don’t know of any bigger statues of you.” Just his luck. He got the goddess to come to his aid only to be stymied by her size. Life simply wasn’t fair.

  Eyeing him up and down, Varnatha said, “I could, with your permission, enter your body.”

  Kerrick considered. Having one god with a free pass was bad enough; was he seriously contemplating letting in another? What would happen to him if they were both in his brain at the same time? He considered finding a larger statue, but he didn’t know how much time they had. She had to catch Tavarus in the act, or he would just deny Kerrick’s claims and continue to possess him. Pressed for time, Kerrick realized he didn’t have the luxury to consider all his options. Desperate to be with Ariss, willing to do anything he must, he granted Varnatha entrance.

  A flash of light stumbled him back and then Varnatha was within his mind and body. She flexed his fist and looked over the surroundings from her new and far greater height. Lowering his right hand to his crotch, she cupped his shaft, giving him a strong squeeze.

  “We don’t have time for this.” Kerrick tried to pull his hand back, but she continued her wanton exploration.

  That’s all he needed. How vile would his nickname grow if they caught him groping himself in the temple? If he were at Ariss’ feet, that would be one thing, but standing around, idly fondling himself? No, that wouldn’t look good.

  With a frustrated sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to get harder, she let go, and asked, “Where are they?”

  Kerrick told her the way, and she moved his feet in the right direction.

  “I need a weapon.”

  He frowned at her in his mind. “He’s not actually in there, not physically. He’s within his likeness.”

  Varnatha made a noncommittal grunt.

  “This woman, does she know how to fight?”

  “Ariss? No. Why does that matter?”

  “Then she will be much easier to kill.”

  Kerrick’s heart stopped, then started beating at three times normal. “What do you mean? I don’t want you to kill Ariss!”

  Varnatha laughed. “Did you think I would kill Tavarus?”

  “I thought you’d scare him and get him to stop possessing me.”

  “Oh, that he will, when the woman with his child is dead.”

  To his horror, Kerrick realized he’d made a bad situation much, much worse. Varnatha had total control of his body. When he tried to push her out, she waved her hand dismis-sively, shoving him mentally back into a corner.

  And like the story of his life, it was too late to turn back now.

  Using his eyes, Varnatha looked to the short line of men and demanded to know their purpose. When he refused to tell her, she plucked the information directly from his brain. Just like Tavarus, she had complete power over him. Worse, he’d willingly let her in. Varnatha now understood that Ariss was within the room, sitting on Tavarus’ likeness, receiving tribute. A sharp flicker of fury washed from her when she thought of the stone cock within Ariss’ sex and Tavarus lurking within the rock.

  “That soulless fiend!” Varnatha hissed under her breath. “Once when he did this I destroyed an entire village!”

  Kerrick felt his hopes slump even more. He’d wanted a vengeful goddess, and he’d gotten one, but she was bitter at the wrong person. How many people would she kill before the guards cut his body down? All he could hope for was that Ariss’ guards reacted quickly and killed him before Varnatha could hurt her.

  Apparently, this wasn’t the first time Tavarus had mated with a mortal through one of his statues, not if Varnatha’s thoughts were any indication. From what Kerrick gathered, it was his preferred way to meet mortal women. The trick was in finding a suitable man to possess. It had to be a man who had an affinity for the woman, something beyond the merely physical. Kerrick fit that description perfectly this time around. The village that Varnatha spoke of was a situation long, long ago, back in the time of the ancients. Tavarus had been able to possess every man in the town to mate with every woman because of their religious rites. He’d turned the entire town into abusive sex maniacs.

  Just as Kerrick suspected, having Tavarus possess him long enough would destroy who he was. His battered soul would depart, leaving behind an empty shell that Tavarus could use whenever the whim possessed him. To her credit, Varnatha did the villagers a favor; they were no longer in control of their bodies. She found it an abomination to let Tavarus keep them all as toys.

  But that was not the situation here. Desperately, Kerrick tried to explain to her, but she ignored him. He struggled to regain control, but Varnatha ruled him with an iron fist. Her goal was clear in her mind and subsequently his: punish Tavarus once she sent him running back to Jarasine; but first, she would kill Ariss and the child she carried.

  20

  Ariss tried to scream, but all that came out was a thin, high whisper of air. Terror gripped her so tightly she couldn’t move. The stone phallus that had felt sizzling hot just a moment ago was now shockingly cold, so deeply frigid the edges burned her tender sex.

  Kerrick grinned at her, but she realized what he flashed wasn’t a smile but a bearing of his teeth. The man she loved wasn’t happy, he was snarling.

  “I’m going to kill you with my bare hands. Something I haven’t done in thousands of seasons.” Lifting his hands, Ker-rick held them out to her, clenching them slowly as if to show her what he intended to do to her neck.

  Looking deep into his eyes, seeing the soulless black, she knew it wasn’t Kerrick who threatened her, but Tavarus. He must have discovered that she and Kerrick searched desperately for a solution to block him from their lives. In retaliation, he would force Kerrick to kill her. As much as she feared dying, she couldn’t bear the thought of Kerrick living on with her murder on his conscience.

  “Kerrick, I know you’re in there.” She reached out to him, longing to touch him, desperate to hold his hand just one last time. “Please, know that I understand.”

  When he snarled, she pulled her hand back. Last night had been the most beautiful moment of her life. She was grateful that they’d been able to share that final, touching moment.

  “What do you understand?” One eye twitched
down, peering at her curiously as his brow furrowed.

  “I forgive you.” Using all her might, Ariss placed her hands on the arms of the throne and stood, pulling herself out of Tavarus’ stone embrace. The phallus pulled free with a soft, almost inaudible pop. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “I know you have no control over what he does.”

  Kerrick’s eyes opened wide. “You’re going to, what, stand there and allow me to kill you?” He plunked his hands on his hips in a curiously feminine gesture.

  “If that’s what he makes you do.” Ariss considered running, but where would she go? If she screamed, she knew the acolytes and the guards, who always stood in attendance, would come to do her bidding, but they would be too late to save her, and she couldn’t bear to watch them kill Kerrick in her last dying moments. Moreover, she clung desperately to her belief that Tavarus would not harm his own child.

  “He?”

  The one word question caused Ariss to furrow her brow in confusion. “Tavarus.”

  Kerrick tossed back his head and laughed. Again, his movements were oddly feminine. He took two steps toward her, stopping just short of the final step up to the clear throne.

  They stood level to one another. Ariss gazed into his eyes and felt lost in the abyss of darkness.

  “I am not Tavarus.”