It was a surprisingly quiet, subdued group that walked into Neb’s home. There was no revelry, no cheering, no laughter. Liam walked over to the cushion nearest to the fireplace and flopped himself down with all the grace and aplomb of an obese whale. Every bit of adrenaline that had coursed through him during the battle felt like it had drained away, but there was an added lethargy he didn’t recognize.
Meg and Tethis both found seats around the fireplace. Liv simply leaned against the wall, her hands working on the ties of her armor. Neb rubbed her paw along her forehead, shaking her head.
“Let me get some essence tea,” she said.
“You have essence tea?” Tethis asked, sounding surprised. Neb chuckled and walked out of the room. Liam looked at Tethis and managed to find his curiosity, despite his tiredness.
“Essence tea?” he asked.
“It’s a, uh, plant that grows in the deep jungles. Crystalbacks eat them.”
“Those are those rhinos with crystals that shoot lightning, right?” Liam asked, throwing one arm over his forehead and leaning back in the cushion. He felt his aches starting to fade.
“Yeah,” Meg said.
Neb returned, holding a bronze platter in her hands. Seated on the platter was a tea-pot and several cups. Liam was more of a Coke Zero kind of man, but even thinking about soda left his whole body panging for the fizz and tingle of drinking a soft drink. He closed his eyes, holding the warm cup of tea Neb had served him in his hands, and reminded himself that the choice was either stay on Earth and drink as much soda as he wanted, or come to Purgatory and taste Meg.
Whenever he put it in those terms, the ache faded.
“Drink,” Neb said, sitting at the writing desk. “It’ll help with the spell-fatigue.”
Liam sipped on the tea. The taste was bitter and chalky, but a few moments after he drank it down, he felt his strange tiredness fade away, replaced with the normal fatigue that came after an adrenaline rush. He blinked and looked down at the tea. But before he could ask his questions, Tethis asked hers.
“So, Neb, please forgive me if this is forward, but...” Tethis paused. “How in Duat did you afford this - and this - on tithes?” She gestured around herself at the house and the books and the fireplace.
Neb laughed. “Immense amounts of debt,” she said, her voice shy and playful at the same time.
Liam looked at her, concern filling his eyes. “That’s not something to laugh about, I’ve seen what banks do in this place. It’s worse than Wall Street.”
Neb held up one paw. “Oh, no, no, it’s a jest. Well, technically, it’s true. I am in debt, but what many people don’t know - mostly because of my blessing, it makes it hard to, well, tell…” She shook her head, getting back on track. “Anyway, my father, Djau Deepdraft, owns a bank that operates out of Sifmoot.”
“Let me guess,” Meg said, sipping from her tea cup. “He set eyes on one of Sif’s daughters and knew he needed to get someAesir ass?”
Neb squeaked, trying to hide behind her tea cup. “M-ay-beee.” She split the word into as many sections as possible, as if trying to get away from actually answering Meg. Meg laughed, loudly.
Neb looked back at Tethis. “I adopted the more Pesdjeti name Maatre when I decided to follow Anubis.”
“So, basically, Daddy’s bankrolling you?” Liv asked, sounding ever so slightly judgmental. Neb sniffed, quietly.
“I manage to provide a good chunk of my funds by performing funerary rites, soul-weighing, scribe works - though I am not nearly as good as you are, Tethis.” She nodded to the gobliness, who smiled at her. “I, uh, try to not rely on my father unless I absolutely have too.”
“And let me guess,” Meg said, sounding cheery. “You absolutely have to buy all these books?”
The entire group started to laugh - even Neb giggled, her hand going to her chest. Liam smiled and leaned back in his cushion. He planned to enjoy the rest of the evening. And he did enjoy listening to the girls talk. Tethis and Neb shared anecdotes about their time studying with different gods. Liv remained mostly quiet, but Meg was always there to interject with a quip or joke. Liv was the first to head to the stairs to get to sleep, followed shortly by Meg. When Tethis tottered upstairs, leaving Neb and Liam alone, Liam found himself suddenly without anything to say.
Neb, her finger rubbing along the edge of her cup, watched him through her eyelashes.
Beautiful, rich, exotic, Liam’s brain whispered. His thoughts dipped to the nipple rings he had seen through her shirt. Kinky.
Liam tried to ignore himself. Instead, he grabbed for something, anything, to say: “So, do you, uh, blessed by the gods have a special name? Like, uh, furry? Or something?”
Neb laughed. “Those blessed by Sobek would hate that. They have scales. And those blessed by Thoth have feathers. And those blessed by Thor are wreathed in lightning, while those blessed by Loki are protean and shapeshifting.”
Liam tried to not imagine what a follower of Loki could do if they set their mind to evil. Hell, if they set their mind to mischief.
Neb shook her head. “Some call us the Blessed. I prefer being thought of merely as the Chosen. It seems less stuck up.”
“I don’t know. Still seems a bit pretentious,” Liam said, smiling at Neb.
Neb smiled shyly back. “Sacrifices are chosen too, Liam Vanderbilt.” She stood, trailing past him to her bedroom. Liam shook his head. Something nagged at the back of his mind. Something that he couldn’t quite get his hands around. He frowned and watched the fireplace crackle for a few moments. But every time he tried to force his thoughts to settle down and sort themselves into something coherent, he just thought of the battle. Of the run back here.
Of Liviana’s svelte body.
Of Tethis’ pussy.
Of Neb’s breasts and nipple ring.
Of how much he loved Meg.
He stood up and started for the stairs. His thoughts couldn’t be forced. He was sure they’d settle by morning.Liam stepped to his room – feeling a warm glow suffusing his body from the essence tea – and stopped dead.
For laying in the bed that Neb had so graciously let him sleep in was the single most glorious sight he had ever seen. Livanna - daughter of Aries, hero of New Athens and one of the most beautiful woman that Liam knew - had one leg cocked over Megara the Messenger – the other most beautiful woman that Liam knew. Meg's knee was pressed against a place between Liv's legs, and the only reason the elven warrior wasn't moaning loudly enough for Liam to have heard her from the library was because the two women's lips were locked together tightly.
Liv made a quiet groaning noise as Meg's hands caressed one of her small breasts, her fingers finding and gently pinching the tip of her nipple, twisting gently. Liv did jerk her head back, moaning out loud. Meg worked her knee and a soft, wet noise filled Liam's ears.
Meg looked at him, cocking one wing backwards, as if to say: Well, come on?
“You'll catch bugs like that,” she said.
Liam realized his jaw was basically on the floor. He closed it, setting his iPod on the table. “I, uh-”
“Shut up, Liam,” Liv snapped. “I'm not your slave in anything but the fucking paperwork anymore. We've fought together and killed together – I am your warrior now, and in my culture, when two people fight side by side, they fuck – because if you won't lay down your life for your lover, you won't lay it down for anything.” She sat up, glaring at him. “Get over here and do your fucking du-”
“I was just going to say, uh, I might not have enough endurance for, well, both of you,” Liam said, dryly, his hands going to his kilt.
Liv opened her mouth, then closed it.
“Well,” she said, looking at Meg. Meg looked at her. They both looked at Liam.
“We're Hellenes,” they said, in unison. Meg grinned and added: “We'll manage.”
“I noticed.” Liam had turned his deadpan delivery to eleven.
Both women grabbed his wrists and dragged him forward.
There was a moment of confused sensation – the feeling of softness, of hard muscle, of fingers working through his hair – the distinct sensation of his kilt being torn from its straps and sent flying. Then Liam was laying between Liv and Meg, their fingers caressing along his chest. Meg, as was her class idiom, simply traced the lines of his muscles – the dimples of his abs, the flatness of his belly. A body that he had worked on for years, but one that had been accented and refined by months in Purgatory.
Liv, though?
Liv's finger traced along the scars that he had. One she had given him. Others, he had given himself back on Earth. Her palm pressed to the furrowed line where a burning beam had fallen against him for a few moments when he lost his first house and his father. Then, dipping her head forward, the elf started to kiss along the scars that were more recent. Her tongue traced a slow, lazy circle around and around one of the fine white marks that were left over from the first attempt on his life in Olimurias.
Meg – not wanting to be out done, it seemed – leaned forward and kissed one of Liam's nipples. Her mouth was warm, insistent, and had the expertise that came from lots of practice. Liam closed his eyes, rolling his head back on the pillow as he let himself wallow in the perfection of the moment, his hands tentatively sliding up and down their backs. He felt Meg's wing press against his arm before twitching away, taking advantage of that amazing flexibility of hers to beckon his hand further down her back. Taking the hint, he cupped her ass and squeezed. Fingers slipped between her crack, teasing the tightness of her asshole, and Meg purred against his nipple.
His other hand had found Liv's ass. But Liv had different ideas in mind. She crooked her hips, then rolled and managed to catch his wrist between her thighs, trapping his fingers against her sex. She was hot as a furnace and wetter than some of Purgatory's most humid nights. Turning to look at her, he saw her eyes were focused on him with the same predatory edge she used in combat.
Unnerving.
He leaned forward and caught her lips with his, his fingers spreading her hairless elven pussy and sliding in. She bit down on his lower lip and made a noise more animal growl than feminine moan as she pressed herself against his chest. This meant that Meg only had to tilt her head slightly to capture one of Liv's nipples in her mouth. Now Liv purred, her eyes closing as her tongue darted into Liam's mouth, teased his tongue, slid back.
When she broke the kiss, both were panting. That, Liam thought, was a good sign.
“I want your cock,” Liv announced.
“Hey!” Meg pouted. But she didn't fight very hard as Liv swung her leg up and over Liam's hips.
Liv didn't so much slide herself down his shaft as impale herself. Her hips met his with a meaty slap, which was impressive considering how very slender she looked next to Megara. Her hips started to rise and fall as she put her hands on Liam's shoulders, pinning him onto his back. Her mouth opened, then closed, her nose flaring as she breathed in and out.
“Fuck me,” she crooned. “You're as big as I thought!”
“You didn't spy on him?” Meg asked, slapping Liv's ass. “Bad slave!”
Liv snapped her teeth at Meg and almost caught Meg's nose. Meg laughed, then grabbed Liv's hair, roughly yanking her head backwards. Liv gasped – from the fluttering tightening of her sex around Liam's cock, she clearly liked it. Liam bit his lip hard and thought about his elderly grandparents playing cricket.
Meg grinned at Liv. “He never was good at enjoying his prizes. I don't share his compunctions...”
“Not... yours,” Liv hissed, her hips rocking forward and backwards, the motion slowing now that she was being held in place.
“Mm, keep telling yourself that,” Meg said, then leaned forward. Her kiss lacked the gentleness and ease that Liam had used. She didn't so much press her lips against Liv's as she claimed the other woman's mouth. Her tongue and Liv's met, danced, fought for primacy. Meg’s breasts pressed against Liv’s back as Meg closed her wings around the two of them, her hands reaching down to squeeze Liv's hips, holding her in place.
Liv's pussy and Liv's sweet moans made it clear just what she thought of that.
Liam was now thinking of every single Republican and Democratic candidates for President playing golf as he remained perfectly still, unwilling to risk even an errant thrust. Not that he needed to move to get the best fucking of his life. It seemed like every few seconds, Liv's elven pussy did something new – a new contraction, a new sensation, a new gush of wetness – something that he had never felt with a human girl. Hell, even nothing he had felt with Megara.
“Jesus Christ,” Liam hissed through clenched teeth.
Meg broke the kiss, panting. Liv panted as well.
“Draw,” Liv said.
“Fuck that.” Meg leaned forward, biting down on Liv's neck, her hand reaching down to slap Liv's ass roughly. The elven warrior yipped, her hips starting to rise and fall faster and faster on Liam. Liam reached up – thinking faintly that he should at the very least help his girlfriend. His hands cupped and squeezed Liv's breasts, finding her nipples and tweaking them gently. She gasped and then Meg went from giving her a series of bright red bite-marks to kissing her on the mouth again.
This time, Liv's eyes rolled back in her head, her spine curved into an almost C-shape, and her sex clenched on Liam so tightly that he felt his vision white out. He barely was aware of his balls churning, barely aware of the fact that his cock was surging and that his cum was filling Liv's pussy, her womb. The only thing he had in mind was the intense pleasure of the moment.
Then Meg broke the kiss and Liv collapsed backwards. She bent almost in half – her body as flexible as a gymnast – and her hips and her sex remained nestled against Liam's, even as her belly rose and fell, her chest glistening with sweat, her body quaking with the after effects of her climax. She blinked as she lolled her head backwards off the bed.
Faintly, Liam heard her say: “You win.”
“Hah!” Meg grinned, then pushed at her gently. “Get off, I want a chance at Liam's dick.”
“No mas,” Liam mumbled. “No mas.”
“He said that the last time we tried anal,” Meg said, her eyes dancing as Liv managed to wriggle and roll off Liam, his cock slurping out of her sex. He was softening slightly, his member still glistening with their shared juices. Meg's hand closed around his shaft, squeezing him very gently. “Never got him to explain what it meant.”
She leaned her head forward, her eyes meeting Liv's dazed gaze. “But I did get him to change his tune... just... like... this.” Meg's tongue darted out, circling the tip of Liam's shaft. She sucked her lips gently around his cockhead, tasting Liv's juices and Liam's cum. She closed her eyes, then pushed her mouth forward until her lips touched his hips. She felt him harden against her tongue and looked up into his eyes.
Liam, slowly, grinned.
“...Okay,” he said. “Uno mas.”
Liv looked baffled.
Meg slid her mouth back, panting, and then smiled as she looked at Liam's cock. “Hmm,” she said. “You know, by now, I've ridden him in the wild, in the bath, in an alleyway – well, that was more him riding me...” She grinned, her eyes going distant. “We've done it in public once. Very secretly.” She fluttered her wings. “They're quite good at concealment, if you're clever.”
Liv snorted. “If you're going to fuck in public, the whole point is to show the people around you how unrestrained you are.”
“Maybe if you're a half-Spartan bitch,” Meg said, rolling her eyes. “Us Athenians know exquisite, delicate pleasures your kind never would.”
“Our kind?” Liv asked, her voice growing acid.
“Ladies, ladies,” Liam said, his voice still weak from his earlier exertions. He sat up, his cock resting against his belly, his skin glistening with sweat. “Didn't you say you were both Greeks? Hellenes, I mean?” He coughed. “No need to fight.”
Liv snorted. “Oh, no, we're not fighting.”
Meg nodded.
“If we were, this Athenian boy lover would already be passed out,” Liv said, grinning fiercely.
“Whoever gets him to cum first is the victor?” Liv asked, jerking her chin at Liam's cock. Liam opened his mouth to object, but Meg's hand closed around his cock, stroking him eagerly as she smirked.
“Just like a Spartan to forget the teachings of Athena,” she said, sneering. “Never fucking fight on your enemy's land.”
“Uh, Thermopylae, anyone?” Liv asked, leaning forward, her tongue slurping along the tip of Liam's cock. Her lips closed around his shaft and she pushed herself forward insistently, forcing Meg to let go or get her hand swallowed up too. Liam wasn't sure Liv could unhinge her jaw that far enough, but he wasn't exactly going to bet against it.
“Oh, were there Spartans at Thermopylae?” Meg asked, her wings mantling as she ducked her head forward. “I didn't notice over the three thousand Athenians who were there.” She kissed her lips against Liam's balls, closing her mouth around them. Liam closed his eyes and panted as Liv drew her mouth back. A line of spittle connected her lips to his cock for a moment as her hand stroked up and down his cock. She was rough but the slickness of his cum and her spittle both made the roughness feel so very good. Meg added a tiny twist to each pump of her hand, and Liam bit his lip so hard that he almost thought it would start bleeding.
“Leonidas!” Liv snarled.
“Blowhard!” Meg drew her mouth back, her hand fondling Liam. “Let's not even get into the post-Purgatory history.”
“Oh, let's!” Liv snarled, leaning closer, her nose bumping against Meg's. The two of them paused to kiss either side of Liam's cock. The sensation of those firm hands cradling his balls made him squirm, his hands grabbing onto his pillowcase. “So, was it Spartans who were tricked into the Lokiomachy and had three hundred ships burned to the waterline?”
“I distinctly remember traitors being involved there...” Meg muttered under her breath, darting her head up and kissing the very top of Liam's cock. Liam closed his eyes and leaned his head back and listened to the string of battles and names…
It was going to be a long night.
Not that he was complaining.
* * *
Liam came down the stairs in the morning, creaking and groaning and feeling rather like a cat that had not only eaten the cream and the canary, but had also gone on a Jason Voorhees-style killing spree through the canary's summer camp. He walked into the main room of Neb's apartment, taking time to admire her collection books. In a world without indoor plumbing and an overabundance of muscle bound warriors with bronze swords ready to hack you into pieces, having this many examples of the written word was a sign of refined taste and more than sufficient funds.
Then he noticed the scrawny looking eleven year old girl rummaging through his fannypack, left beside the front door so he could grab it in a hurry. She was the same urchin that had picked his pocket the day before, her hands moving with increasing desperation. She pulled out the last gold coin he had tucked into his fanny pack, then stood and turned – and froze.
Liam frowned at her. A dozen tiny thoughts that had been bouncing around inside of his head since he had woken in Neb’s bedroom yesterday solidified in a single moment of insight. He stood there for a moment, his eyes widening slightly.
The girl – what had Neb said her name was? Aithene? - bolted for the window. Liam shook himself out of his shock, grabbed the nearest thing at hand and hurled what turned out to be a heavily-bound bestiary at the girl. The spine of the book slammed into her spine and sent her pitching against the wall. She rebounded and hit the floor. Before she could get to her feet Liam was over her, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck.
“So,” he said, “I’ve been running around since you picked my pocket - never had a chance to think twice about it. But I just realized something.” He paused, staring into her eyes. Slowly, he smiled. “You are a terrible pickpocket. What pickpocket steals from a man then stands there, gormlessly, until he starts chasing her? What street rat lets herself get chased down by people literally fresh off the boat?”
Aithene opened her mouth to respond, but Liam shook her slightly, his voice dropping an octave.
“One. That. Wants. To. Be. Caught.” He frowned. “The assassin paid you to get me to the roof, didn’t she?”
Aithene nodded, her cheek pressing against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear. Liam felt faintly sick to his stomach. Sick that he was scaring a little girl like this. Sick that he knew that it was a very good thing. But what was more, he was starting to get really mad.
Try and kill him?
He could grasp that, as much as he'd prefer people didn't.
But use a kid against him? Send her back in when you fucked up?
That was crossing a line.
Liam realized that he was grinding his teeth. To keep his dental health intact, he continued: “So, the girl hired you. Since she can become a freaking raven at will, she must have gotten here well before the ship. Right?”
“She flapped down out of the sky,” Aithene said. “Said that the underground said I was the best. Fishy job. Thought it'd be okay. Then she came back after. Said that she wanted me to go in. Said she'd kill me if I didn’t go in and get the iPod back. Listen, mister, I didn’t want to get involved with this again. But I can smell a poisoner from a mile off.” She nodded, earnestly, tapping the side of her nose for emphasis. “Never cross poisoners.”
Liam sighed. He let go of the back of her neck, frowning slightly.
“What's her name?” he asked.
“Dunno,” Aithene said, her eyes darting away. She was a good liar. For an eleven year old. Liam crossed his arms over his chest as he heard the faint sounds of others rousing from bed. Aithene, seeing his look, sighed. “I snuck after her. She goes by Bryn.”
“Bryn?” Liam asked.
“Sounds Aesir.”
Liv stood at the base of the stairs. She looked less than shocked to see Aithene.
“Not surprising, considering that she's from Odin,” Liam said.
“If she's from Odin, uh, why'd she pay me in Hellenic coin?” Aithene asked. She tugged a golden coin from somewhere in her rags, showing it to him. It looked similar to the Coptic coins that Liam had been given by Sobek, though the language around the edge was different, and the side showed the serene face of Athena. Liam frowned, taking the coin, twirling it around.
He looked at Liv.
“Say, Liv,” he said. “You ever hear of the Iran-Contra affair?”
“It's from Earth, so, no,” Liv said.
“How'd you know it was from Earth?” Liam asked, sounding defensive as he felt Aithene pluck the coin from his fingers.
“Cause it sounds stupid and made up,” Liv said, her voice dry.
Liam looked wounded.
But it was okay.
He had a plan.
* * *
The heart of Olimurias was centered on an immense building that was one part library, one part palace, and one part temple. Celtic artistry adorned the pillars and were carved into the walls, and the building itself had been hacked out of the mountain center of the island like a kind of Irish Minas Tirith. The insides, though, smelled of ink and parchment, and the faint sound of conversations in dozens of languages drifted down broad corridors with high ceilings. The guards that he had seen throughout the city were clustered more thickly here – two at every corridor intersection.
Neb lead the way – her tail twitching nervously from side to side – and tried to not look at Liam. Liam had noticed this and kept wondering about it until Meg stepped to his side and whispered in his ear.
“I wonder if her nose is as good as an actual jackal's.”
Liam remembered he hadn't bathed since last night's exertions. Momentum had caught and pushed them forward so quickly that-
“Sir?”
One of the guards held up her hand, stopping the party for the moment. She pointed at Liam's scabbard.
“You cannot bring that weapon here,” she said. “Only the guards are allowed to bear weapons.”
Liam's hand went to the belt that looped around his hips, though every instinct demanded that he put his hand on his hilt. But he stopped himself – trying to think of what it would look like if he had done the same thing with a pistol while at the local airport. He'd have been riddled with bullets faster than you could say violation of constitutional rights. So, instead, he bowed his head to the guards.
“Where can I store it?” he asked.
The guards conferred. Soon, he was holding a small crystal shard – why was everything here all about the crystals? - and one of the guards was hustling his weapon away. Meg cracked her knuckles audibly, while Liv shook her head. Neb, who had been standing nervously to the side for the entire conversation, coughed.
“So, uh, the magistrates offices are, uh, here,” she said. Her nose flared. Once again, her thin shift made what she was thinking of all too easy to see. Liam tried to not look at her nipples and think of the golden chain connecting them. Of course, trying to not think about something was basically the same as thinking about it, so it all ended badly.
They walked before the magistrates, several robed men and women who were seated behind a large shelf. A pair of stone chalices were set to either side of the shelf, burning with the flames that seemed to be Brigid's symbol. The leader of the magistrates was speaking to a group of people who stood before them.
“We find the arguments presented here to be convincing," said the leader of the magistrates to the group who stood before them. "Repayment will be taken from their trade profits until justice has been served. Next presentation.”
Liam stepped forward as the magistrate looked down at her paperwork. “Ah, the infamous Liam Vanderbilt. The man we hear is from another world,” she said, sounding skeptical. Then she looked at him. “Good Goddess, you're a giant!”
Liam beamed. “Proportional too, ma'am.”
Meg elbowed him.
The magistrate controlled her face, though there had been a hint of a smile there. She looked down at her papers. “You are here to argue that you and your diplomatic envoy from the city state of Faiyum Falls has been threatened, attacked and stolen from by a visitor to this city – an Aesir woman by the name of Bryn.” She looked up. “Specifically, that she has attempted to steal a magical artifact known as an Eye-Pod.”
“That is correct, ma'am,” Liam said.
“Bryn is known to us and has come to contest your claims,” the magistrate said, gesturing to the side of the vaunted room. Through the doorway came Bryn. Finally, under the harsh light of day, Liam got a look at the woman he was pretty sure had been behind every single awful thing that had happened on this trip from the assassins in Faiyum's port, to the basilisk attack, to the multiple thefts of his belongings.
She was pretty.
Because of course she was.
Her hair was blonde and straight, hanging around her shoulders and framing a heart shaped face, with wide, almost almond shaped eyes that were the most shocking shade of flint-gray. It looked like peering into a brooding Scandinavian sky. She was dressed in a simple, form-hugging leather jerkin and her feathered cloak. In the light of day, Liam could practically see an aura of magic around it and he wondered how, exactly, she shifted it from just being a snappy feather cloak to becoming a transformation aide. She had a tiny hammer pendant around her neck.
It looked weirdly like a crucifix.
“Magistrate,” she said, “I am here to refute these ridiculous claims.”
The magistrate pursed her lips, but Liam felt his heart falling as Bryn held up her hand. The iPod sat on her palm.
“I've been using this with your scribes – several of them can corroborate that I've been seen with it in my possession since I arrived,” she said, smoothly. Liam's hand went to his fanny pack, opening the zipper. The inside was empty. He looked up, his face shocked.
“She's lying!” he spluttered.
“Bring them in the scribes then,” the magistrate said.
Bryn had it sown up tight. Five different scribes of ascending levels of seniority within the ranking structure of the Library of Olimurias came out to testify that they had been trying to ascertain the secrets of the mysterious artifact. Which, of course, had been recovered from an Ancients' tomb – not stolen from Liam's belongings. He tried to refute them but in the end, the scribes carried more weight than the word of several foreigners and the magistrate had thrown the case out with a stern warning to not waste the court’s time with frivolous claims. Liam bowed to the magistrates, his face a mask, then hastily grabbed Meg's arm. She snarled slightly, her eyes flashing dangerously as she glared at the smug looking Bryn. For a moment, Liam felt his mask starting to slip and he hastily made sure that he was looking as if he was trying his best to control his fury and confusion. If Bryn noticed he was having a blast watching his plan come together, then she didn't show any sign.
“It's fine, honey,” Liam whispered. “We can't deck her here.”
“Remember how you said it was okay if I wounded her, though?”
Liam nodded.
“I'm upgrading that to maiming her, got it?” Meg snarled.
Liam managed to not smile at Meg’s acting. She was good. “Come on.”
“Who could have done it?” Liv asked, outside the magistrates' offices.
“Where's Neb?” Tethis interjected.
“Obviously, it was that fucking pickpocket!” Meg said at full volume, playing her role as loud-mouthed warrior woman to the hilt. “My only question is how did that Lokifucking piece of shit parade around a fake iPod for a week? She's good, Liam, we have to give her that. Maybe an illusion. Maybe a painted mockup. You can get glass easy, I think, and if people don't look at it closely...”
Liam shook his head. “Or, Meg, she could have just bribed the witnesses.”
Meg blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it. “Right. Occam’s Razor.”
Liam was still slightly sad he hadn’t managed to convince her that it was Vanderbilt’s Razor. “Listen, Meg, we just need to find proof that-” he started.
“Where's Neb!?” Tethis spoke up, a bit too hastily, her back ram-rod stiff, her eyes wide.
Liam frowned and looked around himself. “I...” he paused, then held his hand out, getting the attention of one of the guards. “Sir, did you see a Priestess of Anubis pass by here some time ago?”
The guard nodded. “She said she needed to use a private scribe chamber. They're that way.” He pointed.
Liam sighed, looking at his friends. “Wait here,” he said. “Try and keep an eye on Bryn – she might slip up.” He slapped Meg's butt with one hand. “I'll find Neb and make sure nothing... well, nothing bad's happened.”
Meg shook her head. “Have fun,” she said, sounding murderous.
Liam started through the cavernous interior of the library, admiring how big the place was. The stacks themselves were tiered and surrounded by walkways, so that people could walk up to the book or tome they wanted. Scroll niches covered every free space. Thousands of years of history were contained here: plays, historical documents, poems. He wondered what had been carried here from Earth that hadn't survived two millennium of war and strife…
Then he came to the private scriptorium. A female scribe handled the front desk – it seemed it was a few copper pieces to use the writing areas, and you had to pay for your own ink. Liam smiled – his inner capitalist approved. “Did you see a Priestess of Anubis? She's a friend of mine.”
“Oh, she took the room at the back,” the woman said, nodding. “Seemed to be in a hurry, but the muse strikes when the muse strikes.” She shrugged. “I know how it is. I've been wrestling with my opus for-”
“Uh, tell me later, okay?” Liam asked, cutting her off, smiling. “Sorry, but we are in a hurry.”
The girl blushed. “Oh, s-sorry. But, it's just, a story about a history of the world if we hadn't been banished from Earth and how that might have shaped history in a new way-”
Liam held up his hands.
The girl turned an even brighter red. “Sorry!”
Liam stepped past her front desk and into the narrow corridor that wound through the private scriptorium. He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “What could have gotten into Neb?” He shook his head again as he came to the rear door, trying the knob and finding it was unlocked.
“Neb, are-”
“Oh, Liam!”
He stopped.
Neb gaped at him.
He gaped at Neb.
The sleek, black-furred jackalgirl was sitting on a stool, her shift tossed aside, leaving her completely naked. Her sex lips – a pair of dark black folds tucked between her smoothly furred thighs – were moist and gleaming against her paw-like fingers, spreading slightly as her hand pressed against her belly. Her other hand had cupped her breast, finger taking hold of one of her golden nipple rings, teasing it gently. Her glasses were askew, knocked slightly off where they should have been by the eagerness of her fingering.
But what was more…
She had been moaning his name as he spoke.
Neb snapped her mouth shut.
“So, uh,” Liam said, blinking a bit more, “S-Should I go?”
“Oh Gods!” Neb covered her face with one paw, grabbing at her shift with the other. “I am so sorry, I just, you smell so... I was... I'm so fucking horny. I haven't been laid in a year, and you're so beautiful and handsome and kind and maybe I spied on you while you were with your lover and your slave-”
“She's not my slave!” Liam said, weakly.
“And I just... the court case was decided s-so, I...”
Liam sighed quietly.
“I... c-can you fuck me?”
Liam blinked. “Right now?”
Neb peeked over the shift she was ineffectually using to cover her curvy body. “Well, it'll make you feel better,” she said, her voice a bit lame. “And it's not like we can stop Bryn right now. Right? So. I mean.” She spread her thighs. “Gods, I need it...” Her voice was slightly breathy and Liam tried to not laugh as he stepped slowly into the scriptorium, shaking his head from side to side.
“You try real hard to not let your inner slut show, do you?” he asked.
“Maybe...” Neb whispered.
“But I kinda got the idea you had one,” Liam said, stepping up. His finger crooked through the golden chain that connected the tips of her breasts. He had wanted to do this for days. It felt like he'd wanted to do it for months, really. He slowly tugged up, until the nipple rings were drawn taut. Her thighs spread as she moaned, her back arching as she presented herself.
Liam shook his head slowly. “Who knew you were so eager under that shy librarian look?”
Neb turned her head aside, blushing hard. Liam leaned forward, working his tongue through one of her nipple rings. He teased her, his hand cupping and squeezing her breast, the moment forgotten as he simply enjoyed the exotic feel of her. He had been with another Chosen – a priestess of Bastet – but she had been a momentary diversion compared to Neb's beauty. Her paws gently slid to his hips, and insistently slid his kilt aside. She shifted off the stool, standing and pressing herself against Liam. His hands cupped her ass, feeling the downy softness of her fur. He moaned quietly as Neb panted softly.
“I need this so bad...” she whined.
Liam kissed her neck, biting down gently, then rougher. Neb made an eager little noise at the back of her throat, rolling her head backwards as Liam pushed her against the wall, capturing her tail against her back. She writhed as his hands slid from her ass to her thighs, cupping her sex. He slid two fingers into her sex, pushing them in with the eager intentness of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. Neb responded to that confidence, melting against him as she quivered and gasped.
Then Liam's thumb found the tiny nub of her clit.
“Oh Anubis!” She moaned, her eyes closing, her breasts mashing against his chest. His paws grabbed onto his shoulders, claws pressing against his skin. Liam tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he felt that she had filed them down.
Thank God for small mercies, he thought.
Neb bucked her hips, all attempts to seem demure or quiet forgotten as she panted, gasped, thrashed her head to the side. Her ears flattened against her head as she cried out again – a wordless exclamation of pleasure as her juices soaked Liam's palm. He slid his hand from her sex, holding it up, and she lapped her broad, rough tongue against his palm, drinking her own juices. Her golden eyes met his, wanton and eager.
They said one thing: Is this okay? Do you like this?
The word master floated in those eyes. But it wasn't the slavery that Liv had been forced into. It was something baser. Something unconnected to the battlefield, to poverty, to wealth. It was something that Liam felt deeply, deeply comfortable with. He grinned at her, his voice low.
“Good pet,” he murmured.
Neb made a quiet, happy noise, her fingers licking along his fingers. He turned his hand around, cradling her jaw, his fingers plunging into her mouth. She sucked on them, her muzzle, her flexible tongue, the part of her mouth that actually had lips, all combining to make a unique, amazing sensation. He tried to imagine what that would feel around his cock and found that he was already pushing her down to her knees.
Neb the Priestess had never looked as comfortable and happy with her situation as Neb the slut, her knees spreading and her tail wagging happily as she nosed at Liam's balls.
“Good girl,” he purred. Then, starting, added, “O-Oh! Uh, if... you want me to stop, just say aardvark.”
Neb cocked her head, blinking and looking confused.
Liam's cheeks turned bright red. “So, uh, you know, you can say 'no' without me, uh, you know. Stopping.”
Neb's eyes widened. “Oh, that's as clever as superpowers!” she said, excitedly, shocked momentarily away from Neb the slut. She beamed at him.
“Copyright, Liam Vanderbilt,” he murmured. “Now, come on, get to sucking, you eager little cockslut.” He watched her face tensely, readying for aardvark. Instead, he saw Neb's eyes half close, her whole body shivering as she pressed her nose against his cock, her tongue lapping out, gently tasting him. She was hesitant, then more and more eager as she lapped along the base of his cock. Her mouth opened and she pushed herself forward.
One advantage of having a muzzle, Liam found, was it was a lot easier to deepthroat someone - even if you were clearly a newbie - since you had a good three inches of mouth before you even got to throat. Even with that advantage, Neb made a quiet gagging noise, but gamely pressed forward, until her nose bumped against the curled ruff of his pubic hair. She looked up at him through her painted eyelashes, her nipple-chain dancing slightly between her glorious tits as she writhed underneath him. Her tail lashed from side to side, wagging high like a happy dog.
“Mm, you like that, bitch?” Liam asked, his voice casual. He had never dommed someone like this before.
He found he rather liked it.
Rather liked it a lot.
He tried to picture Meg doing this and found that he couldn't get the image to form. The closest he got to it was Meg wearing a collar and looking at him as if he had completely taken leave of his senses. Now, he could picture Tethis wearing nothing but a Princess Leia slave-girl bikini. That was a mental image that fit like a glove. He grinned, slowly, then slid his hand through Neb's hair, squeezing gently as she started to bob her head, her tongue swirling around and around his cock as she gave him head.
“Good girl,” he purred. “Good little cockslave.”
Neb's eyes closed and she made a tiny, happy noise that sent wonderful vibrations through his cock as she slurped and sucked on his shaft, her hands going to his hips. She drew her mouth back enough to let his cock spring free, planting a few kisses against it, rubbing her nose against the tip of his member, smearing pre-com against her nostrils.
“Gods, you smell so- you taste so- mmmph!” She was cut off as Liam grabbed her head, then pushed his cock back into her mouth, fucking her in earnest now. His balls slapped against her chin and Neb closed her eyes. She let her head be used, her tongue the only thing that moved – other than her tail, of course – as Liam grunted quietly.
“Ready?” he gasped. “Ready for your master's cum, bitch?”
Neb pressed her thighs together eagerly, her tongue sliding against the underside of his cock. Liam thrust deep, shuddering as he let himself cut loose in a way he never had before. All the focus was on him – on his pleasure, on his movements, with Neb serving only as an eager little mouth and an eager little throat. He didn't pull back, he just remained within her and spurted his cum. Thick strands of white seed fired out of his cock, Neb's throat bobbing as she worked overtime to drink and drink and drink.
Then, panting, Liam slipped backwards. A single strand of cum and spittle connected him to her lips, and her tongue desperately quested after his cock. Neb's eyes looked unfocused, her hair mussed. Every inch of her screamed that she had been well and truly used, and - from the puddle between her thighs, dripping onto the ground – she was happy with it. Profoundly happy.
Liam leaned against the wall, his breathing becoming more and more steady. “You know,” he said. “If you beg for it, I can dump another load in that pussy of yours.”
“P-Please...” Neb whispered.
“I didn't hear that.” Liam's face was twisted by a grin. Neb stood, her knees quivering. She turned, bending over the stool in the room. She thrust her glorious, darkly furred ass into the air, her tail arching and presenting her pussy to him. Her fur was matted with moisture, making what she needed painfully clear. She tilted her head forward, the stool creaking under her weight. A single loop of golden chain dangled in the air, her breasts mostly pressed against the wood.
“Please fuck me,” she hissed. “Fill this slutty, uh, p...p...vagina w-with your cock...”
“Pussy,” Liam said, stepping up behind her. He started to grind his cock against her sex – teasing her slowly. “Call it a pussy.”
“...Pussy,” Neb whispered, her voice thick with pleasure, anticipation and shame. Liam felt another rush of power, his head spinning slightly as he took a harder grip on her hips. Squeezing. He purred quietly.
“Louder.”
“Fuck my p-pussy,” she said, her voice catching – the word was clearly making her squirm. And, from the juices dripping along his cock, get wetter. Liam ground his length against her with added strength, his smile growing wider and wider.
“Louder, bitch.”
“Fuck my pussy hard!” she cried out. “Please, just slam your dick inside my Anubis-blessed pussy and fuck my brains out.”
Liam did just as she wished.
After all, he sub was the real dominant one in D/s relationships, weren't they?
Liam's cock slipped into her sex with ease – she was so intensely wet that even her eager tightness didn’t slow him down. He rested inside of her for the moment, his eyes close, reveling in the sensation of her. Neb’s quiet, shallow gasp held tones of pleasure and tones of surprise. He could hear wonder in her moan as he slid his cock backwards slightly, then pushed deeper into her sex, wringing an moan from the base of her throat.
“You’re a virgin, huh?” Liam murmured.
“What?” Neb gasped. “I, how, how could you, ah, tell?” She groaned around the word as her hips twitched in time with his movements.
“Only a virgin would sound this surprised at how good sex can feel,” Liam purred, squeezing her hips eagerly.
Neb nodded, the small motions of her hips sending jolts of pleasure through him.
And since this was, well, round two, Liam could go for a while.
He grinned and leaned over the stool, his palms pressing against the wall over Neb's head, his hips driving against her. The stool creaked and rocked under their weight as her ass jiggled in counterpoint with his thrusts. A sudden through sprang unbidden into Liam's mind: I wonder how she'd look if she twerked. The idea of a bookish, shy girl like Neb twerking almost made him bust out laughing. But then again…
Liam groaned. “Fuck, you're a good little slut.” He laughed. “Should just take you with me.”
Neb squealed, then laughed as well. “Sounds, ah, fucking good to me, master!”
She laid it on slightly thick with that line but Liam didn't mind.
He'd never have imagined her like this, but he was damn glad she was enjoying it. His cock plunged into her again and again as his balls gently bumped against her thighs. Her paws scrabbled at the wood of the stool, clutching to it as she cried out again and again, all attempts to be quiet failing. Not that she had particularly tried that hard. Then, shuddering, Neb climaxed. Liam didn't hold back. He thrust as deeply into her as he could and let his balls clench.
He felt his second climax of the hour rush through him and knew he was claiming Neb. Maybe not forever. Maybe not even for longer than this one meeting. But for right now?
She was his.
Panting, Liam remained deep, deep inside her.
Quietly, he whispered. “Was, ah, that good for you, Neb?” He paused. “D-didn't call you too many mean names, right?”
Neb laughed, quietly. “No. It's good.” She looked back and grinned slightly. “But, uh, mm, just so you know. I am sorry.”
“For what?” Liam asked, slowly sliding out of her.
“I just needed, uh, one sample of, uh... you,” Neb said, shyly. “To get the spell. I just, uh, got greedy.”
Her paw slapped against his chest. Liam staggered backwards as a flare of magic crackled through his body. His knees locked and he tottered backwards, crashing to the ground with a thump. He lay there, frozen, his vision slowly growing darker and darker. Neb stood over her, looking down at him, her eyes sad and nervous. The door opened and a dark, cloaked figure stepped into the chamber.
Bryn smiled.
“Your debts are paid, Neb Maatre.” She chuckled. “Paid... with interest.”