Calliope's Wings

by Guin Archer

  He looked his fill at my hairless mound. Yet another ‘gift’ of changing into a freak-creature of this world.

  An odd thrumming sound came from him as I wheezed for air, choking on my sobs, and then a scent hit me.

  “Oh God,” I rasped.

  The scent wasn’t easily describable. There wasn’t anything I could readily compare it to. It had the sharp twinge of ozone to it a lot like the air got just after a lightning strike. Beyond that crackle of something, however, was a musky twang that was non-offensive, but also not entirely appealing. It was a scent caught on the brink of when a man was just about to sweat beyond what his deodorant could handle.

  …It smelled like a hot night of sex.

  As if I was being remotely controlled, I felt myself suck in air in greedy mouthfuls. The stronger the scent got, the hazier my thoughts became. I felt my skin prickle with goosebumps. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Trembling shivers snaked down my spine. Worse, I felt my womb clench spasmodically. Distantly, I knew I was becoming helplessly aroused far too quickly to be natural.

  “Uum eefan Zikta,” Kor murmured into my quivering, vaginal lips. His hot breath there made my whole pelvis seize tight with need.

  “W-w-what?” I shook my head from side to side like that could dispel whatever aromatic he was using on me. “What’d you do?”

  Too late, I realized I was speaking English. He couldn’t understand me any more than I could understand him with the fog swarming in my head.

  If I had use of my hands, I would’ve raked them into the not-hair of his mohawk and wrenched his skull back away from where it was torturing me. His breath might as well have been blades against my clit for the destructive force of them.

  His raspy tongue swept up suddenly from my opening to my pulsating clit in one long, fluid stroke. I gasped harshly at the sensation, my whole body locking down from the sheer, tortuous bliss of it. Then, without further preamble, his lips suckled my clit into his mouth.

  “Oh-oh fuck!” The ascension towards climax was instantaneous. Tensed as I was, I had nowhere to retreat to. The tip of Kor’s tongue lashed against my clit even as he pulled and fondled it with his lips. My channel slickened heavily and he took his chance to give me reprieve enough to lick me up like a cat with cream. A partial-shudder beat through my back and limbs during the moment of release, queuing me in to the knowledge that once he was done with me, I would be left a shuddering, quaking mess.

  Orgasms shouldn’t ever come so immediately. They hurt.

  The Tohtahk moaned against me, the sound proclaiming his adoration of my juices on his tongue. His metal-capped claws he kneaded into my thigh, which he kept so widely spread that my knees touched the bedding.

  “I-I-I…p-please.” My head thrashed even as I choked on hiccuping tears. “K-Kor…d-d-don’t…”

  “Silence,” he ordered me, his voice so low on the register I almost couldn’t differentiate between the two syllables. His fanged teeth scored my labia in reprimand as his tusks nipped the tender junction between my thighs and mons. “You will be still. Quiet.”

  I didn’t know if I could.

  He skirted me along the rim of ecstasy and torture. I had the absurd feeling of being punished for something with how he would treat me to a wonderful, languid pull before abandoning the suckle to lap up my slick. Every time he would return to my clit, he’d expertly toy with me until I was on the brink of nirvana, but a hairsbreadth from reaching it.

  All the while, that fucking musk consumed my conscious thoughts.

  When he abandoned my epicenter, I keened loudly. It was compulsory. I had to. Other than that first and painful explosion of fulfillment, I’d been left on the knife’s edge. When his hand let go of mine, instead of pushing him away, I reached for him. I scrabbled for any part of him I could reach, needing to bring him back to me to finish what he’d started. I’d die if he didn’t. I knew it.

  “Seshani,” he cooed to me.

  Calm? Calm?! Fuck you! You fucking be calm!

  I latched onto him like a leech when he dropped his body over mine. His head was well above me, but I rubbed my nose into the spot between his abdomen and pectorals. His musk was so strong and I felt his sweat, which also carried that scent, sink into my skin. It burrowed down until every last nerve center I had was screaming for him and his body.

  Then again, maybe I was just so out of my own mind that I was imagining things?

  He used one hand to guide my ass, a curiously wet finger plunging into my asshole – and I felt my own body’s spend leaking down my crack to ease his way further – and center it in front of his dick.

  I arched my neck and blearily watched it turn between us.

  The motherfucker had a prehensile penis.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  The head of it snaked down and out of sight as he pressed our pelvises firmly together between his own forward thrust and the press of his hand on and in my ass upwards. I felt the bulbous tip meet my sopping entrance and heard a sickening squelch as it sought its way in.

  I mewled plaintively at the burn that settled in as that intruder advanced steadily forward. My hands opened and closed fitfully against his bare, bleeding chest. I felt a decent amount of pain as he slowly skewered me, but it wasn’t the tear-my-body-in-two sensation it should‘ve been for that horse-cock of his. I looked far upwards through my tears, my neck craning, and could see the tight set of his jaw and the fierce expression painted across his warrior’s face as her kept his neck craned to watch me back.

  “Breathe, kisa-uu.” His own voice was tortured in my ears. My teeth chattered and gnashed as my back arched. For every inch he submerged himself, I whimpered. He was larger than any man I’d ever been with by a long shot – I wasn’t counting in my other rapists – and I felt something ribbed bumping along the upper half of my channel. Inwardly, those bumps grated against the spongy wall of my vagina. Once fully seated, I could feel a very defined curve which battered my g-spot.

  Fuck. Jesus. There’s no way he got that whole thing in me. None.

  My thoughts blew right out the window when he began to grind down onto my clit with his hard bulk and his cock began to shuttle. The male grunted and cursed and snarled above me, his neatly-spaced thrusts rapidly dissolving to maddened pounding as I felt that second orgasm he’d teased me with flying towards me.

  Distantly, I knew I should be wondering how in the blue-fuck he was pounding me without killing me. I should be screaming my death throes. It just wasn’t possible that I wasn’t being murdered. He was a literal beast that was laying claim to me like I was his broodmare and that was wretchedly, wickedly awful.

  I should be able to feel nothing but hate down to my very soul for him.

  Instead, I was on an orgasmic rocket shooting straight out of the atmosphere.

  A sensation like the smallest of static shocks bolted up the ridges of his cock – what I hoped was his cock – and detonated against my g-spot. My whole body seized, except for my pussy which was suddenly strangling him, as my inner muscles contracted desperately. My orgasm literally blinded me and sent me spiraling into a blackout.

  The last thing I was aware of was hot semen splashing into my tightly-packed vagina and an earth-shattering roar erupting from the male above me.

  Chapter Nine

  …Oooh, I like to go swimmin’…with bowlegged women…

  My coochie throbbed when I woke up.

  I blinked dazedly at the blankets bunched up to one side of my head, the black-as-pitch body to the other, and the canopy of the hut high over our heads. The copper bowls from before were hanging from the lattice along with dried and living plants. The scent of incense was again burning and I was tucked up comfortably on the too-soft-for-words bedding.

  Rolling my head one way, I squinted at the gauze of the inner shell of the tent. It was just reaching daybreak and I could hear some noise beginning to rise outside. The sounds of pots and pans banging. Voices murmuring. Fabric rustling from some
thing other than wind.

  A big hand with equally large fingers scooped low into my sight and cushioned my cheek to draw my head back around. I was in a daze, so let myself be guided. Or rather, moved like a puppet on loose strings.

  “Uum Taytani,” Kor purred, ‘kissing’ me with his flat nose and bullring. He was either lying low in the bed or he’d lifted me up because our faces were even with each other. “Uum goran, eefan Zikta. You blooded me.”

  “You sick fuck,” I hoarsed out. Even after a night’s sleep, I felt heavy and drained. I was exhausted.

  And I hurt in so many more ways than physically.

  I’d also spoken in English. I knew that only because he grinned at me softly and traced a thumb against the bow of my lips, humming. If he’d understood me, I would’ve been hit in reprimand. I wanted him to hit me.

  “I enjoy Your words. Your voice is music. It is almost greater than the chime of Your serah.”

  “Why?” I asked this in the Tongue, his language, and added a frown to show my unhappiness. “Why would you do that to me?”

  “I am Your Drake. And You, precious Innintani, are mine.”

  “You raped me.”

  His expression switched to thunderous and deadly in a heartbeat and I had just enough sense to be justly frightened of it. Of him. This male was a monster capable of great misfortune and pain. I didn’t doubt that he could rip me in half. He could destroy me entirely and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop him. Last night proved it.

  Kor moved over me, his fisted arms caging my upper half while his hips pinned my legs down. My hands lifted, abortively, and flattened against his tensed sides. His tusks winked at me as though in threat.

  “Never, uum kisa-uu, accuse me of such again.”

  Don’t be an idiot, Io.

  But I was an idiot right now.

  “You raped me.” I was crying again. My fingers clawed into him, the bells gently singing. They made a mockery of me. “I did not want that. I did not want you. You made me…you did…I did not…”

  His sharp teeth snapped in my face, but I didn’t flinch. I was too torn up to react the way I should’ve.

  “Were You any other, I would set judgment on You and see You punished. Severely. You would remember to mind Your tongue for the rest of Your days.”

  “You would simply cut it out,” I wretched, heaving my face away from his. My eyes burned while I kept my eyes away from his darker ones. Disgustingly, I felt my next words come out and condemn me. “I have had the whole of mine flayed with a blade before, Tohtahk. Cutting it out would be a mercy compared to that.”

  If I thought his body was tense before, I was wrong. He all but turned to stone over me. All but his arm, which snapped over to clasp his hand under my chin. He forced my head back around so I was looking right at him, my eyes wide, while he pinched my jaw to make it open unless I wanted to suffer the pain. I didn’t want to, already hurt enough, so I allowed him to see in to my tongue.

  My tongue was healed for the most part. Not because something like that could heal on its own, but because I’d died that night choking on my own blood. When I woke back up, my tongue felt like it was desensitized. I’d found a reflective surface some weeks later and seen the blurry outline of it in the ruthlessly polished armor staged in the receiving hall of the castle where I was kept as a kitchen slave. It wasn’t pink anymore. It was blotched all over with cream and blue-black veining, like it was diseased.

  “What,” Kor snarled with feral intensity, “has been done to You?”

  “Everything,” I returned blandly.

  The male soared to his bare feet – he’d gotten naked at some point after I blacked out – and roared. His body vibrated with outlandish rage and he paced the hut in measured, but hard strides. His cock was out, half-hard, and slapped between his thighs carelessly.

  I shouldn’t even be looking at that shit after what he did to me.

  But then, I had to ask about it. Because, even as sore as my pussy felt, it wasn’t torn to smithereens. My pelvis wasn’t broken. I knew that because I’d had that happen several times before. Those were the times I was usually thrown out into the streets, too, and left for dead.

  “How am I not hurt?”

  At my query, he whipped back around to face me. His chest was heaving mightily and I could see his skol shining as though from the inside out. Like magic. They were changing color, too, taking on an electrified blue tint at their edges.

  “What?”

  “That,” I pointed to his penis, “should have hurt me. Badly. I should be dead, I think, but I am not. I want to know why.”

  “Why would my kii hurt You? I am larger than most, yes, but los’kah are…” For the first time ever, I heard Tohtahk Kor, Zikta Warlord and Master of the Horde, falter. His black face turned ashen in his version of paling. He strode back to the bed and, if he’d been a lesser warrior or a regular man, I know he would’ve stumbled. He hit his knees beside me, his hands resting in fists on the tops of his giant thighs. “Tell me this now, uum Taytani, and tell me truth; You have been raped by los‘kah in Your past?”

  “Many,” I replied without hesitation.

  “They did not alter their kii to shield Your womb?”

  “I do not even know what you are talking about.” I grimaced, then closed my eyes tight to fight my tears. “All I have known since I have come to this place is pain. Endless pain. Rape is only one of my fates I have faced and I have faced it so many times, I cannot remember a time before it.”

  “Uum Taytani,” he growled, not once pulling away from my side, “it is customary for the first joining to be bloody, should it be a powerful match. A strong biis’a, such as You are, will allow no los’kah to claim her until he has proven his own strength. I did not know You warded against me in earnest.”

  “I am not one of your biis’a!” My cry was crackled and loud. My chin hit my chest hard as I fled from him in the only way I could. The bakal pinched my throat while the bells – the serah – tinkled. “I fight because I cannot flee. I hate you and this world. I hate it all. I want to go home!”

  Collapsing onto my side on the bedding, I curled up into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Probably for the first time since I’d woken on Intau, I let everything out. Never before did I break down. I didn’t cry because, really, what was crying going to do to help me? Crying wasn’t going to magically have me wake up from this place like it was one bad dream to be forgotten. Throwing fits and tantrums weren’t going to make adapting easier. I had to knuckle down and bear with it all. I had to pull all my torn, battered, and broken pieces back together and keep going. I wasn’t allowed any other avenue.

  Everything was made so much worse in that moment when Kor grunt-growled in his volcanic, two-toned way and scooped me up. I fought him this time, too, but it was paltry at best. The worst I managed was a slap to his cheek, which he permitted, before he wrapped one of the lighter, silken sheets around me. He swaddled me in it, then held me close.

  I didn’t want to like it. I didn’t want to find even a shred of comfort in the sheltering touch he forced on me. After what he did to me last night, the way he’d made me enjoy his attentions between his musk and his glorious fucking, I was caught between hating him like I said I did and craving him.

  How fucked up was I?

  Five years…I’d spent at least five years in this hellish existence. I’d suffered some of the worst crimes known to man. I’d died from them and come back for more. There was no escape. No getting away from the brutality and the strangeness. No freedom from the things that went bump in the night.

  Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, this male had to go and make me like it.

  I said I hated him, but I think the truth of it was that I hated myself.

  And that’s why I couldn’t stop crying.

  Kor held me through it all, not shushing me and just staying there. Even when Zikta came into the hut, he kept me curled up against himself w
hile he barked orders in his non-sensical tongue to them. I thought I heard softer inquiries from them, even though I couldn’t understand the words, and equally gentle returns from the Tohtahk. I suspected they were asking after me.

  Those times made me chomp on my lower lip to keep from screaming.

  I don’t know how long he stayed with me. I don’t know how long I kept blathering and blubbering before it became too much. The exhaustion from the fucking I’d taken and the breath-stealing tiredness from releasing all my sorrow for the life I lived slammed down around me, taking me away into a sleep so deep it was neighboring comatose.

  It was a godsend.

  The next time I came awake, I was being gently moved into a copper basin.

  Moaning, I pushed at the hands that either held me or washed me. It depended on which of the many I came into contact with.

  “Seshani, Innintani,” Ruune murmured behind me and in my ear. His hands eased my head and shoulders back to lie on the lip of the long, shallow tub they had brought into the hut. There was a spongy pillow there that kept my skin and bone from pressing against the uncompromising metal. “You must be readied for Your walk through Granzee. Your biis’a, Gaddi, comes to join You soon.”

  I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to wallow in my own self-pity for a little while longer and in the privacy of my own hut. But, now that my crying jag was more or less over, I needed to get back to being the indomitable she-witch I’d become so long ago.

  …or at least pretend to be her.

  Blinking tiredly even as I felt pins being slid out of my braided hair and the belled chains shifting, I could see all my ladies fussing and cooing over me. They talked mostly amongst themselves and in deferential whispers, the bulk of their conversation revolving around me. They lavished praises on me about the beauty of my body. They tittered about my warrior’s soul. They gushed over the blood I’d drawn from Kor, like it was normal for them and a good omen for things to come. I continued in my silence and did nothing more than blink and lay there placidly.