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The Hive

By: Kingmaker711



Far outside the city of Maritzburg, South Africa, there stood an ancient baobab tree, its frayed leaves and cracked center a testament to its former glory. The day was winding down, the sun settling for its final hours as fingers of ruddy yellow light painted the hilly earth.

The tree stood alone, seemingly out of place, just like the women who had made the journey to see it. Apart from the excited chittering of the women, the area was eerily quiet, not even birds dared perch near the tree.

Adisa stood before the primordial baobab, shivering from a chill wind that only blew across this particular hill. The dying grass shifted like the sea as the tree branches twisted ominously. Its leaves were few and far between, stricken with a drab brown color, as if it were dying.

Adisa looked to Carika, the girl she often jokingly referred to as her token white friend. Her sister had come with, while the other two girls had come from Adisa's apartment. She promised them something cool and was now on the verge of disappointing them.

"Cari...this is a tree."

"Yup!" she said, looking at the tree proudly, as if it was everything she could possibly imagine.

"You dragged us all the way out here...for a tree. I thought you said it was gonna be neat and interesting."

"It is! It doesn't look like much now but back in the day it was something special, according to legend anyway. The Zulus forbade their women from going near it, and the Boers tried to burn it down...but something happened."

Adisa scoffed. More fairy tales. She made a mental note not to let her friend get drunk next time they had a night out on the town. "Alright, humor me. What happened?"

Cari shrugged. "I dunno. But I know this...legend has it this tree could turn women into goddesses...make them beyond beautiful." her voice was filled with awe as she looked upon the tree, desperately wishing that for once the stories were true.

Adisa thought she heard a buzzing sound, just below the edge of her hearing, but she shooed it away. "You're already pretty Cari, don't get greedy."

There was more than a little truth to her words. Carika had long, straight brunette hair, framing her pixie shaped face upon a well-proportioned body, her breasts looking bigger than they actually were due to her small size. Cari sighed. "Easy for you to say...come on, let's take some of the leaves, maybe that's how the spell works."

Adisa smirked at her remark. She knew she was hot. Her breasts were ample yet not overflowing, complemented with a deep rich coffee complexion, a pert round bottom with lustrous, jet curls for hair, she could always be the belle of the ball. However, she knew she was blessed, and carried herself with a fair bit of humility, not wanting to sully her image with a bitchy attitude.

Adisa looked at the other girls. Cari's sister was servicing her cigarette while the two other girls were busy taking pictures. "Sure, might as well. Let's make it quick, not good to be out here when it's dark."

Cari laughed as she stuffed the leaves in her handbag. "What? You nervous? I thought you said you don't believe in myths..."

Adisa heard the buzzing again, louder, but thought it was a trick of the wind. "Yeah well kidnapping is no myth. I just wanna go...oh shit..."

"Too much information Adi!" she giggled, unaware of the situation developing around her.

"No....Cari look...there's someone here."

A cloaked and hooded person stood before the group, Adisa could tell from the outline that it was a woman, a very curvy woman. In the dim light of dusk, she could see some of the patterns on the robe, hexagonal shapes interlaced with impossible geometric lines, imbued with rich purples and deep yellows. In the fluttering wind the robes parted just enough for her to get a tantalizing glimpse at the woman's breasts, heavy silken globes that glistened in the dying light of day.

An out of place honey scent snaked into her senses, dulling and arousing her at the same time. She staggered, her vision darkening, as she more saw cloaked figures slowly homing in all around the group. Before she could alert the others she felt a hand close around her throat, dragging her down to the ground.

Before darkness overcame her, she couldn't help but notice the sticky yet supple skin of her assailant. And in the recesses of her mind, she heard silvery smooth voices drift along her ear.

"Yes. Good. More. For hive!"

"This one. Different."

"Yes....very special."

And then Adisa knew no more, as she and her friends were carried into the night.

***

Adisa awoke to the sensation of being coated with something warm. She opened her sticky eyes and saw honey, gushing from an organic spout on the roiling ceiling. The golden substance dribbled down her thick, chocolate thighs and soaked into her heavy mahogany toned breasts. Amber rivulets dripped down her sleek belly, contorting from the new sensation as she let out a quiet gasp.

Despite the alien environment, the warm nectar made her feel cozy and relaxed, as if she had come home. Still, despite her comfort, pangs of fear resounded through her mind. If this was a benevolent environment, why did she have to be restrained? 

The entire room was awash in organic sounds. She saw the other girls, strung up to the waxen walls by foreign secretions. They were all beginning to wake up, their moans of confusion and surprise adding to the chorus of natural melodies within the hexagonal chamber.

She saw out of the corner her eye the figures from before. They were definitely all woman, their magnificent curves defying reality. Their voluptuous breasts hung high from their chests, full and ripe. The statuesque women seemed to be nodding to each other, communicating, but without words. As they did so, Adisa could see the profile of their bottoms, which were just as plush and taut as their chests.

They were like the fertility goddesses of old, stepping out of the mists of myth and legend, only something was not right about them. Adisa squinted her eyes. They were not tan, nor were they dark skinned. They were literally golden skinned, as if their skin had literally taken on the color of honey. What was more strange, was their facial features.

Their faces lacked definition, with few features noticeable, such as their lips, noses and eyes, everything else was de-emphasized, giving them all a uniform, doll-like countenance. She strained even more to get a better look, but their faces simply were not giving her the detail she craved. Their eyes glowed golden yellow, pockets of light in a dark silhouette. They looked unreal. They did not look black or white, Asian or Arab. They looked like nothing else on this planet.

Suddenly a horn sounded through the chamber, and the golden women peeled back, a glistening chamber gate slamming down where they stood. The room had been sealed off. She noticed a gigantic...thing, lowering itself from the ceiling like a spider. Except it was not a spider. It looked to be an oversized bee, until she saw its upper half. It was a man!

The man was unbelievably ripped, his pectoral muscles defined like two slabs of slate, his bulging arms looked as if they were forged from iron. He was as golden skinned and ambiguous in feature as the women of the colony, only his eyes were pitch black. Runnels of honey ran down his chest and down onto his lower half as he brought his stinger to bear.

Except it wasn't exactly like a stinger.

It was a tube, long, translucent yet black, ribbed and dripping with amber fluids. 

Adisa eyed it with fearful anticipation. Other girls screamed, struggling helplessly within their bonds, shaking their arms and legs as they tried to force their way out. He pointed it at the nearest girl, Carika. She whimpered as the thing trembled and wavered before her, quivering with anticipation, eager to sink itself within its prey.

She knew the man's intent and backed herself up against her restraints as far as they would allow, but it was useless. She cried out as the man strode forward, goosebumps spreading as he slid his stinger along her inner thighs. "No! Please no...no...."

The man dropped onto Carika's vulnerable body like a lion upon a gazelle. She was captured. She wriggled in his grip, mewling, as his fingers slid across her smooth belly, tantalizing her rising breasts before he plunged down into her silken cleft. Her shout of surprise was muffled as the man kissed her passionately, hugging her close as he thrust deep inside her.

Adisa looked on with mixed emotions. Her heart pounded and her sex grew moist, wanting to watch out of morbid curiosity but also wanting to escape. She bit her lip as the hybrid creature pummeled into her friend's milky body, her pussy overflowing as the man coupled with her in savage need.

Carika's panicked cries had turned to muffled moans of bliss, bucking her hips to force as much of his organ deep inside her. Her thighs convulsed wildly, sending sloshes of honey mixed with her own love juices onto the floor as the being kept himself attached to her mouth, flooding her brain with mating pheromones.

His hands drifted down to her creamy breasts, massaging them as his palms easily slid over her honey covered mounds. She grabbed his hips in turn, now a willing part of the mating process as her pheromone addled brain took over. She moaned hungrily into his mouth, her sweaty body shining in the amber hive light as she clenched her vaginal muscles, desperate for his seed.

Her heart raced as the man collided violently against her hips, her shapely legs rollicking in the air, swaying as if on a turbulent sea current. Her glassy eyes were wide and dilated, locked onto her stud as he pinned her against her restraints, his relentless pace and deep penetration making incoherent cries and moans of pleasure tumble out of her throat as she succumbed to her orgasm.

Love juices squirted onto her lover's stinger and she clutched his body desperately, wrapping her legs around him, eager for his gift. She didn't know what it would be, only that her subjugated mind was telling her to take every last drop in. She moaned at the thought of giving herself to his offering. She licked her lip, she needed it, she needed him inside her...all of him.

Carika was breathing heavily, her wind knocked out from repeated climaxes. The man too, was panting, eager to release his load. And then it happened. With a deep, inhuman growl, he came. He mashed together her soft milky breasts as he slammed against her, his organ pulsing and undulating as writhing lumps were pumped into Carika's willing body. 

Her belly plumped up, as if pregnant, but then whatever was pumped into her, quickly dissolved, restoring her stomach to normal. She let out a quiet moan, a smile spreading across her face as she felt the beginnings of inescapable change within her body. Her eyes had rolled back into her head as if unconscious, drool streaking her neck as her body went through slight jerking motions.

Adisa was now fully aroused and terrified. The hybrid man had collapsed on top of her, his head settling on Carika's pale breasts, before slumping off of her honey coated skin and collapsing on the floor, his member easily sliding out of her well used sex. He did not stir. Adisa wondered if the effort had killed him, as if mating was a fatal effort for these creatures. Her thoughts were broken as Carika released a strangulated moan.

All eyes in the room darted back to the Afrikaner. Suddenly her body tensed, her back arching as she let out a long moan. Her toes curled and her head rolled back and forth as her thighs thickened and legs lengthened, her previously nonexistent hips flaring into existence as her psyche caved in, replaced with new directives as she gave herself up to the colony. She let out a soft gasp as she felt her mind rewritten, surprised at how good it felt to serve.

Within a few moments her will and mind were one with the colony. Then rest of the changes kicked in, exploding rapidly across her convulsing body as the hive added another to its ranks.

Starting from her feet up, her ivory-white complexion started to darken and then lighten into a rich golden hue. Her dead straight hair wrinkled, spiraling into wavy brunette curls, as her face morphed into ambiguity, her identity diluted and consumed by something greater.

Throughout her convulsions, her moans started to morph into something indescribably and lusciously musical as she surrendered to her change. Her breasts began to grow, blossoming into lush, glistening melons while her flat bottom bloomed into soft, voluptuous swells. She had become a statuesque fertility figure. Richly muscled yet sublimely soft and inviting.

Adisa looked at the changed Carika, irrepressible fear gripping her heart as the former Afrikaner slumped away from her dissolved restraints and began to walk towards her. Meanwhile, she saw more hybrid men drop from the ceiling, hitting the ground with a juicy plop as they ambled towards their future mates.

Adisa pushed herself as far back as possible as Carika approached her. She whimpered as she saw her strut forward on pure instinct, her motions that of a woman whose will was no longer her own. Her breasts swayed with each step, her tight stomach muscles flexing seductively as she came into view.

"Carika please...let me go. We can get out of here!" she pleaded, her voice barely audible over the concert of moans flooding the chamber. Carika tilted her head, looking at her uncomprehendingly. Adisa only sighed. Her friend was gone.

Carika leaned over Adisa's naked body, squeezing in and writhing all over her, the two becoming a lewd tangle of golden and ebony flesh. Adisa felt Carika's soft, honey coated breasts lightly nudge her face, before she pressed them down fully. Her world became dark and muffled as she felt warm flesh on either side of her face.

She could feel Carika lightly humping against her thick leg, slick honey ensuring she could slide easily. She also heard the orgy in the back, a cacophony of moans and grunts, not close to slowing down. Within the soft pillows of her breasts, she also heard Carika speaking.

Carika laid her head on top on Adisas' as she spoke softly to her, cradling her former friend's face in the valley of her breasts. "You. Special. Will be like me. But not."

Adisa shivered. Carika's troubled speech scared her. Carika leaned away, relieving the pressure on her face. "Please, I can help you! Just don't turn m-" she was interrupted as Carika stuffed a puffy nipple in her mouth. 

Adisa tried to keep from sucking but already she could taste the honey. Her soft globe shuddered as a jet of nectar spewed into Adisa's mouth. Now she couldn't help but suckle. She swallowed the warm fluid down and felt her awareness of the outside world dwindle, it was as if the feeling of comfort when she first woke up had been magnified to irresistible levels. 

More than comfort, she felt her arousal rising, her nipples perking up as she moved to grind her pussy against Carika's slippery leg. Adisa moaned softly as Carika glided back and forth on her syrupy flesh, her soft hands slipping onto Carika's hefty and sculpted ass cheeks. She pulled her closer, thrusting against her leg as she desperately tried to quench the fire in her loins.

"Yes. Drink. More. It make process....easier." moaned the hive girl, rejoicing in the sensation of pouring her nectar into her lover. She loved how her breasts throbbed, how Adisa's throat undulated with each swallow, and how soon her lover would be ready for joining the colony. She grew extremely wet at the thought and moved down to kiss Adisa.

Adisa's head lolled to the side when the warm globe was parted from her lips, her mouth and throat stained with drool and nectar as her mind swam in a heavenly narcotic high. She was vaguely aware of Carika's soft voice resonating in her ear.

"Shhhh. You have enough. Now we wait. For King." Carika slid down Adisa's body, giving a playful lick on her ample breasts before nuzzling into her neck. "I. Love you. We love you." she whispered. 

Adisa looked into the creature that used to be Carika. Her golden eyes were empty and doe like, yet seemed to contain the utmost sincerity in what she just said. It was then Carika mashed her lips into Adisa's mouth, moaning feverishly as she wrapped herself around her. Her soft lips were so buttery smooth and dewy that Adisa felt compelled to kiss back, lost in her embrace as the two rubbed each other's breasts together, sliding against each other with languid and sensuous motions.

Carika held her there, loving her for what seemed like an eternity. She cradled the dazed and helpless Adisa like a mother to her child, easing her into the next stage of life. As the two slowly writhed against each other, lost in their bliss, the moaning in the background dwindled. The strident howls of joy tapered off, the tell-tale sounds of slapping flesh and gushing seed fading into silence. 

Silent if but for all the women, emitting low, soft moans as they underwent their transformations. The more they resisted, the more they moaned, beautiful funeral songs to their humanity as sheer pleasure overpowered their will to exist. 

None of them, no matter how strong, were a match for the hive. All succumbed, giving themselves over to their new existence, until finally, the chamber was quiet again. Only the organic squishing sounds of the walls gave company to their thoughts.

Carika withdrew her sweet tongue from Adisa's mouth, their game of bliss at an end. Carika caressed Adisa's cheek gently as she leaned back. "I go now. It is time."

Adisa stared forward, her mind was buzzing. She still felt drugged, but less so, the neurotoxins in Carika's nectar beginning to wear off. She saw the other women had fully changed, but she hadn't. A glimmer of hope shot through her heart. Perhaps they would let her go? Maybe they met their conversion quota? The whole thing was situated as a type of assembly line after all. Then her heart dropped, her mouth becoming dry from what she saw before her.

One final hybrid man had dropped from the ceiling. This one was larger than the rest, but unlike them, he had giant vestigial wings on his back. Nor were his eyes pitch black, but rather the most brilliant shade of gold she had ever seen, much like the hive women.

He strolled up to her, his upper half as muscular as a centaur as his bottom half lumbered behind him. He was bald, putting a hand underneath his chin as he gave her a admiring look, before smiling warmly.

Adisa was confused. None of the hive creatures before showed any sort of semblance of sentience. This was an odd one.

"You." he said.

"Me?"

"Yes, you." His voice had extra, buzzing vibrations behind it, making Adisa's teeth vibrate, even from a distance.

"Please let me go, I won't tell anyone!"

The being strolled closer, running a hand up her mocha hips and breasts, his sticky fingers becoming tangled in her curly hair.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible. Not anymore. My Queen is dead...you are the new one." his tone was surprisingly intelligent, even sad, for a monstrous creature. He brought his aroused stinger to bear, slops of nectar oozing off as it came ever closer to her sacred spot.

Adisa gulped as she looked at it, trying to push back against her restraints as it drew ever closer. She was desperate. Then it came to her. She appealed to his survival instincts. 

"PLEASE! You...you don't have to do this!" her shout shocked him, making him pause. "I know you can listen to reason...please, if you do this, you will die!" she motioned over to all the spent men on the floor, their corpses already being absorbed into the floor. "You let me go, you don't die, we both leave happy!"

The King let loose a stifled chuckle. "Admirable. This is why you will be such a useful addition to the Queen. But no, I will not die. Those were drones. I am not." 


The Hive



Her mind scrambled at his choice of words. Addition? How could she be added...to what she was to become?

He pulled his stinger back for a moment as he squeezed her dusky breasts, teasing one of her dark nipples before giving her a peck on the lips. Then his face grew more stern as his stinger came back into view. "There must always be a King and a Queen. Already the outside world is suffering from our lack. Soon the wild drones will grow more bold, devouring human settlements. And that, my love, simply will not do."

"No..." she whimpered, her prospects fading by the second.

"Indeed. Only our combined mental strength can reign the ravenous hordes in...now lean back. I shall be gentle. You shall look back on your taking as the crowning achievement of your old life, and the start of your new one."

"Fuck you!"

"Relax my love....we will be reunited soon enough..."

She squirmed back as he stepped forward, hovering above her. She recoiled at his words, she didn't know him! How could they reunite? She gasped as she felt his tongue swirl around her round, firm breasts as his strong hands glided down her honey kissed back, settling on the dark, silken spheres of her bottom, gripping her thickness much to her begrudging delight.

The King pulled up to her face, licking his lips, relishing the moment of creating a Queen. It never failed to excite him, as his golden hands tenderly wrapped around her throat, bending her face to him as he kissed her with primal need. It was a hard won kiss as her kiss was anything but tender, groaning angrily as she tried to pull away from his lips at the same time.

He smiled inside. They all railed against him, yelled and cried, but they all ended the same...his mate. His Queen.

Her eyes were shut, her head shifting in his grip while his dark spear made slow but inevitable progress into her helpless, chocolate body. She let out a muffled gasp as his stinger parted her moist pink folds, her legs twisting, wide hips bucking in resistance, until he had fully impaled her. She moaned in resignation, the last spasms of revolt at an end.

Then she felt a sweet, cinnamon scent caress her senses as he tangled his tongue with hers. She groaned, her arousal skyrocketing as she was subjugated by his pheromones. She wrapped her dark, moist thighs around him instinctively. She now understood how Carika could so easily embrace her mate. This was pure pleasure, even as her mind rebelled, screaming at her body's betrayal.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as he began thrusting, her hands gripping his sculpted back as she held on for dear life. Her vision began to fade, as she felt the King inject more fluids into her brain, his tongue acting like a secondary stinger. She heard the squelching of her sex as her inner walls gripped onto his thick rod, her lips clinging to it desperately every time he pulled out. Soon the sound of their coupling faded out, replaced by the sounds of another age, another time, as the tapestry of another life fell over her...

*** Ancient Africa stretched out before her, passing underneath her at lightning speed, rushing down its deserts, across its jungles and into the wide savannas, before settling on a very familiar baobab tree. At the base of it sat a tall African man and his woman, both reclining near a cozy fire, holding each other in a lover's embrace.

Before the Europeans, before the Arabs, before the Kingdoms of Mali and Mutapa , Kush and Carthage, there lied the two lovers. It was a time of gods and mortals, fate and destiny. The stars and true love bound these two together. Inseparable, their joy knew no bounds, no end. Except for perhaps...Death. 

Their love begot life in the land, every footstep sprouting a flower, each kiss birthing a star, and each loving embrace begetting an oasis. However, as there is Life, so too must there be Death. He stalked among their creations, maintaining balance in his wake.

The two lamented the loss of life, but understood, such was the way of things. Until Death itself came for the dearest prize of all. Their love. His Queen. The man would not have it, he could suffer any loss but this. And so, in his hubris, he challenged Death, fighting the tides of fate for the love of his life.

The woman understood she must die, but he could not let go. The challenge was a game of Death and Love. The man had to take the souls of a hundred man army, while Death had to love the souls of a hundred widows. 

The man was strong, but not strong enough to kill a hundred men at once and so he slipped poisoned honey into their tea, thus fulfilling his part of the bargain. Death hated and admired the man, for his guile but also because he could not beat him, not being able to find love to give within the blackness of his heart. 

A compromise was made. The woman would pass on, but live forever in the form of another woman, the cycle repeating every hundred years. However agreeable this was, the gods were displeased that the man challenged the cosmos, cheating Death with his crafty ways, so they smote him, cursing him and his generations with wicked form for all time... ***

Adisa came to, shuddering as the King's hands squeezed her large, brown breasts around his fingers. A wave of excitement spread from her groin as he thrust deeply into her silky sex, emitting a passionate growl as he did so. The King pulled away from her dazed face, looking at her with a tinge of sadness in his eyes.

"Now you understand. You know how it began...and how it must end."

Adisa felt slow but spoke anyway. "Wha...what happensss....to me?"

"There is no you...there is only her." With that he plunged back into her, new thoughts driving into her mind at the same time.

She moaned in forbidden pleasure, clenching herself together as he renewed his lovemaking. Her mind had become so cloudy from the endless stream of narcotic nectar that she could barely understand her own thoughts. But even so, the thought of giving herself up to something greater excited her immensely. It also terrified her. How much of herself would be left?

Other thoughts erupted into her mind. They were not her own.

"Give yourself up to me...to her..."

No! She had to fight! To live!

"Join her....and live forever..."

She trembled as another orgasm wracked her body, her bouncy, dusky flesh trembling as her thighs shook from sheer pleasure.

"Let us take you in, shelter you, love you...let us fill you up..."

Her skin tingled from his voice and she felt another wave of heat building up within, another release to weaken her resolve. It would be so easy...to just give up. She mewled softly as she felt him mash his face into her moist, ebony globes, melting under his magnificent touch.

"Become one with us...give in...let go..."

She couldn't hold back anymore. Her hips bucked and her full breasts wobbled as a mind blowing orgasm rushed through her veins. Her mind went blank as love juices gushed from her sex, her fingers clawing down his back as obscene pleasure ravaged her body, her screams and sobs a symphony of bliss within the chamber.

She calmed down, letting out a moan of elation, exhausted and too weak to resist anymore. It was futile to fight this ecstasy, this nirvana. She surrendered, at peace with her fate. Her body relaxed and opened itself like a blooming rose, ready to be pollinated by her mate. 

The King grinned. He could have overwhelmed her at the start if he really wanted, but loved wringing every bit of pleasure out of her, affording her a pleasure the drones of the hive could not.

He looked into her glassy eyes, lost in eternity, idly kneading her ample bosom as he picked up his thrusting pace. In her dimmed mind she could feel his flesh tightening, finally giving into the release that he had held in for so long. She smiled, knowing this was it, that in a scant few seconds her life would change forever.

Then it happened.

His hands slid to her wide hips, down to her plush ass cheeks, squeezing as he growled in divine bliss, his rod pumping his invading essence deep inside her.

His stomach undulated as her body jerked and twitched, her womb saturated with nectar before the main arrival. Her eyes widened as she saw large lumps traveling down his length. Her arms shot out reflexively as the seed rushed in, setting her nerves alight in pleasure. Then her limbs slackened, her body instinctively resigning as the foreign intruders bloated up her belly.

Her head rolled back as her eyes fluttered, lost in agonizing bliss. She felt white hot pleasure pulse throughout her body as the throbbing seeds within set about converting her. Detecting the King's nectar, they instinctively knew this was to be a Queen. They then liquified into microscopic particles, embedding themselves into her DNA, restoring her belly to its taut appearance.

Then the remolding began. The forging of the Queen. Goosebumps spread across her smooth skin as a massive orgasm seized her body. She was coming continuously as she felt the Queen submerse herself within her mind. It was bliss, utter bliss. Had she known the pleasure would be this great, she wouldn't have protested earlier.

Other personalities soon swam through her thoughts. Women from centuries past who were chosen to be Queen. She saw the Queen entity herself, beckoning to her, as she gave off a kind smile. She saw why she was chosen.

The Queen had more than a passing resemblance to Adisa. Her white dress fluttered in the dream environment, her plunging neckline revealing her ripe breasts, chocolate orbs pouting starkly against the white silk. The Queen wrapped around her in a motherly embrace, soothing her as she prepared to take Adisa's body for herself. Adisa sighed, nuzzling into the warmth of her cleavage, welcoming the loss of her being as she was swept away in a tempest of lustful oblivion.

Soon Adisa's moans rung out, only they were no longer hers. They were no longer human. Her piercing cries of pleasure were like unearthly music to the ears, unknown and indescribable as her being sang farewell to the human race, embracing her new nature.

She convulsed and thrashed within her restraints, her beautifully dark, chocolate skin fading into rich golden tones. Foam gurgled out of her mouth as her sex squirted torrents of juices onto her King, completely lost in the ecstasy of having her genes overwritten, her mind overwhelmed as the Queen entity poured into her body.

She clutched her King desperately, convulsing in orgasm, moaning loudly as her body suffered more changes. Her already ample breasts ripened into thick, golden teardrop mounds, swaying from her exertions as her abundant bottom became more tight and upturned, the epitome of feminine vitality. Her hips thrust off her seat, her back arching as her thick thighs and fit stomach became sleeker and more nubile through her royal transformation.

Finally she stopped her jerking motions, breathing heavily, her sweat streaked breasts rising and falling to the rhythm of her soft gasps. Every now and then her fingers, feet and facial muscles would twitch, a side effect of the Queen scouring every last bit of Adisa out of her own body. 

The King caressed her face as Adisa's features were slowly smoothed away, until subtle hints of the Queen shone through, with only traces of the original Adisa left around the lips and eyes. She let out a low, soft moan as her face turned to the side, her eyes fluttering as the Queen finished taking control of the body, and with one final spasm in the neck, the process was finished. Adisa had been consumed, gone forever, sealed within the Queen's vault of memories.

The King leaned down, pressing upon her lush lips as he reunited with his lover. His kiss awakened her, her eyes opening to his admiring gaze. Adisa's warm brown eyes did not greet him, but rather the regal yet loving bearing of the Queen, her eyes matching his in their golden intensity.

"Welcome back, my love..." he bowed, kissing her hand as he lifted her out of her restraints.

When he put her down, she quickly returned his kiss, wrapping her hands around his face, moaning as their tongues intertwined for the first time in years. "It was agony to be away from you...how long was I gone?"

The King sighed, skimming his fingers across her perfect bottom. "Too long. Mankind has grown wise to our tree...but not too wise." he smirked, bringing her in front of the assembled crowd. Carika and the other hive females bowed, while the remaining hive males beat their chests in allegiance to the restored monarchs.

"Our children have grown unruly in your absence, the ranks decimated from infighting and wandering in the outside world. It is time to regrow." he whispered, rubbing her stomach knowingly. She smiled, looking forward to the nights ahead. Both King and Queen clasped their hands together, raising them before the assembly in a show of unity.

The Hive echoed with thunderous applause as leaves from the ancient tree fell from their clamor.

The Dark Age had come to an end. Across time and space the monarch's love endured, and not even the passage of time or Death itself could stop it. The Hive would rejuvenate the land, its glory restored.

The Golden Age had begun.



The Hive



"Capitan's Log; Imperial Navel Scout HMS Resolve outbound from Castor 4. Preparing survey to upgrade jump-point catalog with the most recent reference numbers and any new points found." "Lt. Cmdr. Jason Pool commanding; ship is again fully provisioned and three new drones as replacement for those lost on last mission." "Sector Alpha 35 will be the first scanned as it has not been updated in 6yrs. Log end."

I set coarse for sector A35 and kick in the engines hoping for a routine patrol as I'm getting tired of always ending up on the short end of the stick when it comes to excitement. I've had enough lately to keep my dance card full for about 100yrs. 

I enter sector A35 uneventfully and pray that it stays that way. "Log entry: Have entered sector Alpha 35 and am starting patrol. Log end."

Two weeks and nothing to report outside the norm; God I hope it stays that way. The last few runs have been more than a little wild: Run 38A6; jump ended 10AU from star going super-nova; Run 39B16; jump ended in the middle of an asteroid field: Run 40D3; jump ended in an active gas nebula: Run 41G2; jump ended in coronal envelope: Run 42L1; jump ended in atmosphere of gas giant: and this last one; Run 43A9; jump ended just outside event horizon of black hole. I need a nice quiet milk run for a change. 

Sensors tell me they have picked up an uncharted jump point; hopefully a nice stable one without a life threatening exit. "Log, Run 44W7; new jump coordinates 153.14X78.54X18.8: preparing for jump. Execute. Log end."

I exit the jump and heave a sigh of relief as there are no immediate sensor warnings. I put the sensors to checking the immediate proximity and find a system with a G4 star and 14 planets. "Log, jump complete, no immediate threat, proceeding to system for closer inspection. Log end." 

The closer to the system I get the stranger it gets. Of the 14 planets 8 are within the 'life zone' 0.85AU to 1.15AU. Either this is one hell of a coincidence or someone/something has been at work doing some great engineering.

There are no planets closer to the primary than those in AU orbit, and there is a huge gap between them and the outer gas giants. It's as if all the inner planets have been moved to the AU ring to support whatever life exists here.

All the planets in the zone are orbiting at the same orbital rate of 461 days (standard) and all show signs of atmosphere and energy generation. I am picking up small ship traffic between the zone planets and an odd form of communications all pops, clicks and hums. 

I enter the inner system slowly with all my sensors on and hope that I'm not perceived as a threat by whoever has the power to move worlds around. I'm at about 3.5AU when suddenly my ship is seized by what appears to be nothing more than a tractor beam, but one of incredible power. I am being pulled toward the 2nd largest of the zone worlds and there is nothing I can do about it so I shut down my propulsion systems and let them have their way.

"Log; have been seized by tractor beam of incredible power and am being pulled toward the 2nd largest of the planets in this system. Propulsion shut down to conserve fuel for possible; what??? Will advise as to status as able. Log end."

I am within 1,000,000 km when 3 ships come alongside and mag-grapple to my ship. I 'feel' the tractor release and the attached ships start a decent to the planet below. Sensors tell me that the atmosphere is breathable and I should have no ill effects from it.

As I approach the surface a pattern develops and although I've seen it before never on such a grand scale. Everything is laid out in hexagons as if it's a giant bee hive. 

My ship was set down on a landing cradle and mag-locked in place. The other ships were cradled and after about 30 minutes a door opened in the side of the nearby building and out stepped a BEE! A real live walking upright bee. I saw no sign of armaments so I made my way to the airlock, cycled it and prepared to step out.

"Log: maintain contact ship comp to comm tag; maintain running log entry."

A platform was raised up to my airlock and I stepped onto it to be lowered to ground level. I stepped off the platform to come face-to-face with a humanoid bee; 170cm tall, 80 kilos and if they were like bees on Earth most likely a drone/worker. Its mouth was moving but all I heard was clicks, hums and pops, obviously a language of some sort but not one that my ship had figured out yet. I had my ship send out a drone with a portable computer and started a mathematics tutorial playing; the drone/worker raised its arm and I paused the player. It turned to the building and I heard a loud series of pops and clicks, shortly thereafter another drone/worker came out and it signaled to the computer so I restarted the tutorial. 

As the tutorial played another bee came forward with what I took to be one of their computers. They set it up so that my ships computer could see the screen and they started what I assumed to be a similar tutorial. Their tutorial was annotated with hums, pops and clicks which I took to be a voice over as did my ships computer. After about 20 minutes my ship started telling me what the pops, hums and clicks all meant. 

With my ship translating we; with the aid of my comp, started a conversation and they started by asking me; "What are you?" " Where are you from?" "Why are you here?" So I started answering.

"What are you?" "Human."

"Where are you from?" "Earth, across the galaxy about there," as I pointed to the sky.

"Why are you here?" "I am an explorer and I search out new civilizations to contact."

I ask, "What are you called?" "We are the Hizzpptt and this world is known as Hizzpptt Prime."

"You moved all those other planets?" "Yes we did. We needed more room for our people so we moved those worlds and converted them to livable space."

"I wonder, is your society as ordered as the bees of my home world?" I asked.

"We have a very ordered society but, it is not as it once was. Long ago our Queen controlled everything and we answered to her beck-and-call. But about 250,000yrs ago a change started to take place where we became more independent as individuals and less of one mind. Over time more and more of our people chose to be something other than what our society said they should be. Soon we developed different personalities and more females than just the Queen became fertile and soon females were laying eggs from matings of their chosen male partner."

"Many wars were fought over who ruled and how but we survived as a society and even though we still have a Queen she is only a guide in how we go about our lives."

We talked for a couple of more hours as we learned about each other's worlds and society's. The day was coming to a close when a large ground vehicle arrived and all the 'people' around me turned and knelt as from the 'car' stepped the most wondrous sight I'd ever beheld.

First let me describe the 'people'. They are bees; vestigial wings, 4 legs, 2 arms ending in opposing 2 'fingered' pincers and they have 2 antennae on the top of their head. But that is where the similarity ends; the facial structure is more like that of a human than a bee; with standard eyes facing front instead of compound on the side, a flatter wider nose, and a mouth very similar to our own. They vary in color from dull yellow/orange to sunshine bright yellow stripes alternating with dark grey to black stripes. 

Now the Queen; when she stepped from the 'car' I was awe struck. She is a brilliant gold and ebony black coloration and stands about 5cm taller than all the others here. Her wings are much larger, though I doubt she can fly, than any others and are a brilliant rainbow spectrum of color. As she nears I bow and when I look up she is staring at me as if I'm about to become dinner. She speaks to Bettrrgg and I hear the translation, "Bettrrgg what is this creature that stands before me?" 

"He is a human from Earth, a world across the galaxy from here. He is an explorer and his craft brought him here through the rift that has claimed so many of our ships."

"How is this possible?" she asks.

"He has a special type of drive system on his ship that allows him to navigate and pass through the rift." he tells her.

"Your Majesty if I may be so bold," I speak up, "My ship is designed to utilize the rift as you call it to travel great distances across the galaxy. My own world is so distant that it cannot be seen from here, but it lies in that direction." I point to an area of the sky in roughly the right quadrant.

"How do you know our language stranger?" she asks.

"With the aid of my ships computer and this device," I show her my comm tag in my left ear. "Our computers devised a method of translation and through them we can communicate."

"Bettrrgg, please to bring your friend to the palace for dinner this evening; and please bring this device with you as I wish to learn more of this 'human'."

"Yes your Majesty."

After the Queen departs Bettrrgg looks at me quizzically and says, "Now I've seen everything, the Queen herself has asked you to dinner. That never happens. In fact her showing up here just now is beyond anything I could have imagined."

"Well, maybe she is just curious as to the goings on outside your little corner of the universe," I quip.

About an hour later Bettrrgg escorts me to the palace and the guards take my computer in hand and escort me to the dining area. After seeing to my comfort the guards leave and shortly after servants start bringing in the meal. I don't see anything directly identifiable as meat but lots of things readily identifiable as fruits and vegetables. As soon as the table is set the Queen enters and takes her place at the head of the table then directs me to move so as to sit next to her and place the computer on a small table set between us. 

We spend the next hour or so talking about all that is going on in my part of the galaxy as she is a very curious person. Finally she calls some staff and tells them we are retiring to her sitting room and has them bring refreshment there. After moving to a luxuriously appointed room and dismissing the servants she comes right to the point she seems to have been dancing around all night.

"So, human..." I interrupt "My name is Jason, your Majesty, Jason Pool."

"Well then Jason. Do you find me attractive, Jason?"

"Why yes your Majesty, I do. You are quite pleasing to look at." I answer.

"Do you have a mate where you come from, Jason?"

"No, your Majesty, I do not as I am gone from home most of the time it would be unfair to her not having me around when needed." I answered.

"That is most considerate of you to think of her feelings like that," she quips. Then she lays it out, "I would like you to mate with me Jason."

There it is; "And why would you want me to be your mate, if I might be so bold as to ask?"

"Being Queen is difficult as you might guess. Everybody is trying to get an advantage on everybody else and if I take a consort and bear young then he will expect to be treated as someone special. As yet I have found no one that I would have elevated to that position. With you I might have my 'fling' so to speak and after you are gone not have to suffer the consequences of having a boorish consort hanging around."

"Well thought out, your Majesty..." she interrupts "Please call me Hellzzpp," she says.

"Well, Hellzzpp that is a very well thought out plan. I can only see one problem with it, and that is how we would go about doing the deed as I see no way for me to... well you know."

"I have been studying you all evening Jason and noticed the protrusion in your covering and although it appears that it may not be as long as one of my species it is much larger in diameter. I was thinking that I might lay you on your back and squat over you so that you might take me that way."

And that is what we did. I undressed and lay back on some pillows and she straddled me presenting her cleft to my rigid pole. Her wetness was very apparent when she just slid right down my shaft taking it all at once.

"By the comb you are so big; I am stretched so much I cannot take any more." I begin moving in and out of her and she asks, "What are you doing? It feels so... so..." her body starts to twitch and shudder as she tries to close her opening on my pole. I feel a stinging sensation at the base of my shaft and can no longer hold back as I let go and pump a huge load of sperm deep in her.

"I feel your heat Jason and know that you have given me your seed. It is a shame that we cannot bear offspring as I would much like to be able to do that again. It was very enjoyable."

Although it was a bit quick for me, I did enjoy getting my rocks off. "I too enjoyed the pleasure of your body and wish that we could be together again before I leave."

We spent the night together and did the deed twice more before morning. As I left to return to my ship and a well deserved nap she spoke to me, "Stay for a few days Jason and enjoy our world and its treasures," then quietly, "I will see you again before you leave."

I spent the next 10 days wandering around with the aid of Bettrrgg. The day before I was to depart I received a message from the Queen to report to the palace immediately. 

When I arrived at the palace I was ushered directly to the Queens inner chamber, only to see her lying on a cushion looking all bloated and swollen up like a balloon. Her servants were hovering around her like she was dying or something. "Your Majesty, you wished to see me?" I asked.

"Yes Jason; leave us," she hollered at her servants, "Jason tell me about your sexual practices on Earth. I have need of an explanation of why I am blowing up like a balloon with fertilized eggs."

"Fer... Fer... Fertilized eggs?" I stammer.

"Yes Jason; a Hizzpptt female has as many as 500 viable eggs in her body at any one time. When a Hizzpptt male deposits his sperm there are 2 or 3 packets that will fertilize 2 or 3 eggs respectively. But my Doctors are telling me that not only are we genetically compatible, which is obvious, but that every egg in me has been fertilized and I could have as many as 500 hundred children in this one brood. Can you explain this to me?"

How do you explain, to the Queen that you just knocked-up, the fact that humans release millions of sperm every time a male ejaculates. 

Well... it doesn't look as if I'll be going home any time soon.



The Hive Island - Prologue



Adam could not sleep in the room given to him despite it being reasonably comfortable. Sounds of all nature poured into the room. He listened carefully and tried to understand the nature of the sound or its source. He could not. He twisted and turned as the memories of the past few weeks came flashing back to him.

He was on board the merchant vessel Ariel in his first voyage as the cabin boy. He had just turned twenty one this year when the shocking loss of his mother to a terrible car accident made him completely alone in the world. With a reference from a friend's helpful father, he was able to land a job as a cabin boy. He needed to start making money and support himself.

But it seemed misfortune had once again found him as the Ariel was caught up in a Tsunami like storm in the Pacific and the ship must have had hit a submerged rock. The Ariel suffered major hull damage. Adam with some others were trying to board a lifeboat on the deck as a towering wave which seemed to be at least hundred feet high engulfed the ship. That is the last thing he could remember.

He had woken up in a small tent which was part of a number of tents inside a compound which seemingly was a skeletal hospital. He apparently has been found and rescued by some mysterious inhabitants of this unknown island. Inspite of being in the island for more than a week he has been unable to exactly pinpoint the island he was in with his limited navigational skills. The island was undoubtedly tropical and had a sunny warm weather.

But Adam has greater issues at hand. He is no expert in anthropology. But he has till now met only five elderly tribal men who are speaking amongst themselves in some unknown tribal tongue. He had tried to speak with them, but none of them showed any interest. Also he had not seen any younger people or even a woman till now. Also, the elderly men whom he had seen till now all bear uncanny resemblance to each other. They were all medium skinned and tanned. All wore a very short loincloth which barely covered their male organs. Adam thought that the five of them could be brothers. 

********

The mysteries kept on building up. Adam had figured that the elderly men were part of an unknown tribal populace secluded from the rest of the human civilisation. But his impression changed as one of the men handed him an open letter, in clear handwritten English which read as:-"Welcome, dear guest to my humble abode. Please accept my apologies, for not being able to meet you earlier. I hope my boys have taken good care of you. Allow me to invite you to my humble manor. You shall be spending the night there as my personal guest and please do me the honour of joining me for breakfast. The bearer of this letter shall escort you after your dinner. I am looking forward to meet you. Yours truly, La Maada". 

Adam accepted the invitation. He was not sure though, whether he really had any choice in the matter. Anyhow, he had followed his guide to the massive wooden manor where he was escorted to a small room where he found himself left alone with only a bed and no other furnishings.

********

But the issue at hand first needs to be sorted. Adam was getting increasingly curious about the sound and its source. He could not sleep. He with some hesitation opened the wooden door and looked outside his room. The hall was empty and the sounds seemed to increase. He thought he could hear ecstatic cries and moans of men. Also there was some moaning in a distinctly female voice. He followed the source and went up the wooden stairs as the sound increased. 

He was almost certain that those sounds were sexual cries when suddenly he reached the end of the stairs which overlooked a large hanging terrace beautifully adorned with different flowers. There were a few covered lanterns which were holding small torches inside. The overall ambience under the open night sky with the cool sea breeze and the floating perfume of the sands in the air, it was almost mystic and magical, but somewhere hidden there was an intense eroticism that was almost palpable. He quietly positioned himself in a dark covered corner, to discreetly view the events unfolding there.

********

Adam looked on as his eyes adjusted to the semi illuminated terrace. There was a huge throne like bed in the middle of the terrace. He counted about ten nude men leaning and sitting around the throne. All of their faces were buried into a shadowy gigantic naked female form on the throne. It was evident that these men were giving simultaneous oral stimulation to the giantess lying on the throne. Of the men clearly two were kissing her from both sides of her neck and her face which he inspite of trying could not properly see. Four of them were concentrating their sucking and licking onto her breasts two on each. But the heads of two men could not cover the gargantuan udders which also seemed to be unrealistically firm and jutting out perpendicularly, defying gravity. Two men were massaging and kissing her plump belly, heavy round hips and juicy thighs from either side of her. Lastly, the remaining two of the men massaged and pulled her legs wide apart, with their mouths sucking and licking her toes.

The buxom woman was naked and spread eagled and her crotch was the only area of her body which benefitted from the illumination of a nearby lantern. Her fleshy plump thighs looked creamy and inviting. Between her long and curvy legs them a thick bush of untrimmed black hair encircled her pussy which was flooding with white slimy liquid and a pool of slimy liquid was deposited at the bottom of her crotch. The trickling sticky liquid was definitely semen. On her left stood four handsome young men in a line and on her right six more. All were naked with their cocks dangling openly. The men's pubic hairs were all shaved. The only difference between them was that the men on the right were all erect while the men on her left had flaccid cocks. 

To his excitement and a sharp tinge of jealousy, Adam realised the reality of the events unfolding. The four men with flaccid male organs have already made their contributions to the giantess's hungry pussy. With a shameless and nonchalant way the woman beckoned the fifth man and he dutifully positioned himself in front of her. He held his long hard cock and aligned it with the woman's slimy pussy as the tip of the cock rested at the dark entrance of the woman's moist love-hole. It seemed that the giantess is not willing to even offer him the respect or comfort of presenting him her cleaned genitalia. The man seemed to accept that he is one of many of the woman's lovers and that he must be content with committing himself and his manhood to the dominant woman's well fucked pussy lubricated by her other lovers' semen. With any further ado the man pushed in and in one smooth stroke he was inside the warm depths of the woman as her creampied pussy offered little resistance to the penetration.

What followed was messy and woman's pussy was thoroughly ravaged and more semen spewed as he pumped like a madman into her. His cock was like a stirrer, mixing and stirring a very potent cum cocktail inside the woman's pussy. Adam watched in agony and excitement together and he was feeling incredibly horny himself. Finally he knew the moment has arrived, as the movement of the man became more strained and his grunts increased. Adam watched in wonder and he went cross eyed in lust at the unbelievable raw horniness that was unfolding before his prying eyes. The woman clearly was much experienced and knew exactly the timing of the young man buried inside her. She grabbed the hard buttocks of the young man and strongly and definitively pulled himself deeper into her and moved her waist slightly. Adam could swear he saw the woman's crotch muscles move and as the woman's inviting pussy contracted around his manhood he gave out a loud grunt as he unloaded his seeds into the woman. The woman moaned loudly too in unbridled passion and uttered words of encouragement to increase the length and volume of ejaculation of her lover.

Adam almost lost his senses in pure lust and greed at the extremely erotic sights. The big woman consummated her love with each of her lovers. Once ten of them had intercourse with her, they replaced the other ten in caressing, massaging, licking, kissing and sucking on the huge woman. The other ten men freed of their duty to stimulate the giantess, stood in line waiting patiently for their turns to fuck the woman. She again started from the beginning and the entire cycle was repeated twice. A man ejaculates and then withdraws himself from the giantess' fertile female organ. The next man immediately replaces him and continues fucking her till he can take no more and ejaculates inside her. He extricates his organ from hers only to allow the next man to take his place inside the warm and moist depths of the voluptuous woman. Adam lost count of the number of orgasms the woman seemed to experience. But he was sure that the giantess completed three full cycles which means each of her lovers had fucked her thrice and ejaculated thrice inside her which means her pussy received sixty ejaculations from twenty cocks.

Adam watched in agony of being deprived of the heavenly pleasures of the giantess' intimacy which she so bountifully distributed to her lovers who had submitted to her love. After the entire ordeal was over for him and finally the large woman fell asleep along with her exhausted lovers, Adam silently went back to his room silently. It was almost dawn as the woman's debauched sexual marathon must have continued for four hours or more, that too because no man lasted more than three to four minutes inside her, at a time. Adam slipped into his bed. He had himself masturbated himself to seven orgasms that night but still he could not sleep a wink.

Adam had very little opportunity of feminine companionship growing up in a very conservative neighbourhood. Sex was not even in the picture in the long shot. The vision of sex in such wanton abandon had shaken the very core of his existence and resonated in his imagination. He could think no more. He could hardly wait to meet this woman. He is almost certain that this is LaMaada. Something tells him he has found his destiny by chance in this secluded island paradise.



The Hive of Asgard



EDUCATIONAL REFORM

Skjold "Golden Arm" Odinsson was late to his class on Diffeomorphic Transformations of Nonlocal Semi-Logical Quasi-Riemannian Manifolds. Again.

He tried to enter the lecture hall as unobtrusively as possible. Not an easy task given the circumstances. He took his usual seat directly behind the girl with the golden cornsilk hair. She turned around to give him a toothsome smile and then turned back to her notes.

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Mr. Odinsson," Professor Imnotanazi said. "What pray tell delayed you this time?"

"Sorry, chief. I mean Professor Imnotanazi. Coach kept us for extra hour of practice this morning. We need to get ready for our game against the Fighting Chipmunks. It's only three days away."

"Ah, another rodent-related delay. What is it that you totemistic savages call yourselves?"

"The Screaming Beavers."

"Ah yes. Well, beavers are very industrious rodents, Mr. Odinsson. Too bad I can't say the same about you.

"Also, my understanding is that you are a mere quarterback. I can only assume that this means that you are precisely half as valuable as a halfback and one-fourth as valuable as a fullback, and Coach Concussion has assured me that there are plenty of those on you precious Screaming Beavers team. 

"Thus, there is no need for you to be out on the gridlock all morning."

"That's 'gridiron' sir."

"Based on your running game, gridlock seems about right," chimed in Narcissus Adonis from the back row.

"Well, Mr. Odinsson, it seems you do not arrive in class on time because you have already mastered the material through independent reading. Is that the case?"

The golden-armed Viking sheepishly nodded his head.

"Well, Mr. Odinsson, perhaps you can enlighten the class as to the relationship between nonergodic inverse reticular transformations and quasi-normal semi-functions on Mobius topologies."

"I'm sorry, Herr Professor Imnotanazi ," the flaxen-haired jock said and hung his head. "I'm afraid I've fallen behind in my reading ."

"Well, I'm sure that your pure Aryan brain will allow you to catch up rapidly, unlike your Oriental and Jewish classmates, who are limited in terms of both their cranial capacities and deficient cultural backgrounds. This course should not be difficult for a full blood such as you. Tell me, Mr. Odinsson , what don't you understand about doubly-recursive femto-transformations in non-Kleinian, hyper-affine Reimannian subspaces?"

"Pretty much all of it, sir."

"All of it. Did you hear that, class? All of it. Well, what do you intend to do about that. Mr. 'Golden Arm' Odinsson? You know that you are in danger of flunking this course. If that happens, you will lose your football scholarship, and the services of one beloved golden-armed pseudo-Viking will be forever be denied to your precious Screaming Beavers as well as to all the other rodent mascots around this great Cornshucking Football Conference of ours. You will, in a word, become unemployable. You can say goodbye to your seven-figure NFL salary. You might even have settle for my own paltry salary of $90,000.

"But wait, you don't know a thing about hyper-affine Reimannian subspaces. Guess you can't have my job either. But wait, you're basically a thug. You could be a policeman. No wait, they make only $50,000 per year and cop lives don't matter. Going to be hard to sport the mink coat and diamond earrings you're wearing on a $50,000 policeman's salary, Mr. Odinsson."

Golden protested, "But this course was listed as jock-friendly in the course catalogue. You're supposed to give me an A, no matter how stupid I am. This university will go under financially unless you give me an A."

"Was this by any chance the Gryffindor University course catalogue issued last spring? That was meant as a joke, Mr. Odinsson, an April Fool's prank."

"Well that's just great," the neo-Viking replied. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well, if you want a seven- or eight-figure salary, I'm afraid that you will need to pass this course."

"But how can I do that? I don't even know what the name of this course means."

"Perhaps one of our gook or kike students might able to cram the essentials of this course into your undoubtedly false-blond Viking-coifed noggin. Do I have any volunteers for this Sisyphean task?"

The blond vixen with the cornsilk hair in the desk immediately in front of our Aryan protagonist shot her hand straight up. "Ooh, ooh, ooh, I'll do it, Professor Imnotanazi. Pick me! Pick me!"

Their archetypically racist instructor took count of the vote. "It seems as though all students but one decline this hopeless task. Well, Ms. Kayoko Lokisdottir, it seems that you are the only volunteer for this impossible tutoring assignment. Are you sure you want to do him?"

"I want to do him in the worst way possible, Professor Imnotanazi. I want to do him with extreme prejudice. I want to do him so hard that he will be a puddle of pulsating protoplasm when I get through with him."

Imnotanazi walked behind the lectern to hide the boner that was making a tent in his pants. At that moment, he wished that he really was the Norwegian that he pretended to be rather than the apostate Orthodox Jew that he knew he really was.

The head of lush, undoubtedly real Viking hair in front of Golden Odinsson rotated almost 180 degrees. Linda Blair style, to look deeply into his eyes. He knew that Professor Imnotanazi would not approve of her eyes, bearing as they did the epicanthal folds that Herr Professor took as the defining trait of Orientals, gooks, slopes, slants, nips, chinks, Japs, Charlie, rice monkeys, and seaweed suckers everywhere. But Golden, having grown up in football locker-rooms, was a connoisseur of racial slurs. Where Herr Professor tolerated no fine distinctions within his general category of slopes, he knew that craziness of Kayoko's dancing, bright, laughing eyes and her skintight motorcycle suit meant that she was Japanese, or not to put too fine a point on it, a nip, or to use their own and thus non-derogatory term, a Nipponese.

"Hi, I'm Kayoko Lokisdottir," she said. "All Viking skin and hair, I'm afraid. But in here, I'm all Japanese," she said, pointing her index finger at her skull. Oh yeah, and I've got a limbic system that is pure Tibetan tantra. When it comes to sex, you probably won't last eight seconds with me. Although with proper training I can keep you on the verge of sexual ecstasy for 48 hours or even longer. So just put all sexual thoughts out of your sleazy little minds" Kayoko said with a mischievous grin, sweeping her soon-to-be overworked index finger over the assembled multitude of 89 males and four females.

But Kayoko's admonition had no more effect than instructing a person not to think about white elephants for half an hour. It was simply impossible, as evidenced by the 89-tree redwood forest the male contingent sported in their pants. Make that 90 trees if you count the nine-inch boner Herr Professor Imnotanazi was pointlessly trying to conceal. 

"OK, class, this may be time to break out the real-time cognition monitoring system that Dean Patel has been pushing on us for over three years," Dr. Imnotanazi said.

"OK, everybody if you got 'em, whip 'em out. Now you will find out why Wastewater University has adopted the new no trou dress code. I assume that all of you are going commando. If not, take off your tidy whities or your Victoria's Secret silky bluies and chuck them down here on the stage.

The eighty-nine male students immediately unzipped their pants, exposing their johnsons and various orifices, too delicate to be mentioned here, to the crisp open air of Lowell Lecture Hall.

Undergarments rained down upon the stage. "Mmm, I count 15 silkie bluies, but only four women." Iamnotanzi said. Somebody's not reporting for gender normalization class.

"Oh well, for you guys, put your balls into the cups that have been provided to you and wrap the sphygmomanometer around your shaft."

"Sphygmo-what?" Moose Schlipowitz asked.

"Sphygmomanometer. The thing that looks like a blood pressure cuff. Just wrap around your shaft and velcro it shut. Then pump the bulb a couple of times to make sure it's on there tightly."

"Dr. Imnotanazi, I don't seem to have a shaft or balls," the transfer student named Bronco 'the Eunuch Maker' Browsey complained. "Can I borrow someone else's? I'll be real quick"

Golden knew that Browsey was attending Wastewater University on a mixed-martial-arts athletic scholarship . He also knew that she was, in the words of cage master Bruce Buffer, the reigning undisputed UFC bantamweight champion of the world, and her last name was pronounced "Broooooowzy. He also knew that she could render any of them unconscious in ten seconds and could probably take their genitalia in under six seconds. Golden crossed his legs just thinking about it. 

"Well, Ms. Browsey," Imnotanazi continued, "normally I would say that that is because you're a woman. But in your case I'm not so sure."

It took Bronco Browsey 2.3 seconds to get to the stage and cradle Imnotanazi's family jewels in her right hand. "Are you sure now, motherfucker?" she asked the world-famous meta-mathematician. She gave his testes a friendly twist, leaving no doubt in Herr Professor's mind that she could extract his favorite spherical objects in a nanosecond, if need be.

The Fields Medal Laureate gasped and shook his head. "Actually we have a real surprise in store for you girls, I mean coeds, I mean women," he said, sweat pouring from his brow. 

"If you would kindly return to your seat, Ms. Browsey. We can get started. 

"OK, for you nubile coeds in the audience , we have a special treat for you. I think it's a waste of time personally, but Dean Wormer insists that we bring our mathematics program screaming and kicking into the 21st century. 

"First, if you lovely ladies would be so kind as to take the rubber shafts that you will find under your chairs and shove them as far up your coochies as humanly possible.

I'm sorry, I'm just reading the directions on this card. Don't hate the messenger, only the message.

"Now if you ladies will be so good as to place your vibrating clit caps over your lovely lady lumps."

They complied with great enthusiasm. 

"Ah perfect. Now if all of you, boys and girls would be so dear as to attach your nip clips to your nipples."

Golden Odinsson raised his hand. "Dr. Imnotanazi, I'm a football player. I don't got no nipples."

Bronco Browsey arrived at Golden's desk before he could inhale to start another sentence and twisted his nipples unmercifully. " 

"What do you call these, pretty boy?" she asked the pride of the Wastewater Screaming Beavers.

His lips quivered and he whispered, "Nipples."

"What was that? I can't hear you, you lowly scum."

"NIPPLES!" he told the distinguished cage fighter, then more softly. "Nipples." 

"OK, now that we have that out of our system," Dr. Imnotanazi said ,"can we please complete the prep? If all you students, boys and girls alike, would be so kind as to wiggle your behinds and sit down as hard as you can on the vibrating anal dildos that have been provided for you at the rear of your chairs. You just have to bring them to the locked and upright position first."

The audience began to gasp, moan and gyrate. Imnotanazi quickly pushed the off bottom for the anal dildos. "Sorry about that, chiefs," he said with a sheepish grin on his face. 

"We are going to install one of those clicker systems whereby you twits can signal me by pressing a button to show that you understand the material. This instant feedback is all the rage in many of the other universities in the Cornshucking Football Conference. Wastewater has engaged the services of the educational consulting firm of They'll Can't All be Vegetables, Inc. to install the feedback system into which you are now all plugged.

"Let me show you how it works. At many points during this lecture, you will be asked a multiple choice question, and you will enter your response using the keyboard attached to your desks. . For you boys out there, if your answer is correct, you will be given a pleasurable electronic sexual experience, such as I will now demonstrate with the Screaming Beavers' prize QB," Imnotanazi said, and punched an intricate sequence of buttons on his clicker. As soon as the distinguished meta-mathematician pushed the enter button, Skjold 'Golden Arm' Odinsson felt his robo-snatch go into hi-lube mode and close tightly around his turgid shaft. At the same time, his just-installed electronic butt plug went into maximum vibe mode. He felt its hot juices flooding his rectum, as said junior dildo accelerated its assault on Golden's lower intestinal tract. At this point, his ball cups squeezed tighter around their respective orbs. They felt like two hungry feminine mouths eagerly devouring and teasing his testes. His just-installed nip-clamps played with his false breasts, teasing him to an even higher state of ecstasy. The pride of the Screaming Beaver's football team was now being fucked eight ways from Sunday. 

Maybe it was just Golden's imagination, but he thought he could smell smoke coming out of his personal orgasmatron as well as out of his ears, just like in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. He came in a burst of white lava that completely dislodged the robo-pussy from his shaft, shooting it straight up to bounce against the ceiling, raining white goo down on Golden's pristine golden locks in the process.

Golden slumped in his chair. 

"Goddamn," Golden said. "I am never going to come again. What would be the point? What could compare to that? It's going to take at least a week for me to even get hard again."

"Oh, but come again you will, Mr. Odinsson. Come again you must," Imnotanazi said. "It is vital to your learning process. You see, class, one part of this year's annual physical exam for Wastewater undergraduates that may not be apparent to you is that when you were in the MRI machine, we took the liberty of restructuring your brains. We have implanted in each of you a vast array of electrodes that can be controlled through a clicker such as the one I hold in my hand. You will obey my every whim.

"For instance, Mr. Odinsson, let us exam your claim that it will take a week before you can become aroused again."

The good professor punched a button on his clicker, and Golden's johnson snapped into a state of rigid attention. An emptiness overcame Golden. He felt all alone in the universe, desperate to be wrapped in skin. 

"You see, students, we simply had to take such drastic measures to insure that you do not text in class. Americans' score in international mathematical achievement assessments have dropped to a position a smidgen below that of Papua New Guinea. Hell, Afghanistan's even beating us, even though they stone their girls to death for attempting to go to school. Fucking Afghanistan!

"But these devices that we have implanted in your brains and on your happy zones are going to put an end to all that nonsense. Am I right class?"

The class rose as one and clicked their heels together. "Yavolt, Mein Capitan!" they shouted, and raised their fists.

"I will illustrate this feature with Mr. Toshiro Tanaka. Tank, send me a text message praising this new feature."

Toshiro did his thumbs thing and hit the send button. Immediately, his head exploded, spraying the students with white and gray matter, not to mention smoking skull fragments. Tank stood there for a moment and then the left and right halves of his body went their separate ways in manner reminiscent of the Shogun's cleaved brain in the classic movie Shogun Assassin, directed in 1980 by the Japanese scholars Robert Houston and David Weisman, the latter a protégé of Andy Warhol.

While Emmy Noether was still picking bone fragments from her hair, a pimply-faced kid named Alvin Lefkowitz waved his hand agitatedly.

"Yes, Mr. Lefkowitz, what inane suggestion are you going to pose to the class this time.?"

"Can you show me how to disable the texting app from my cell phone?"

"I would be most happy to, but after class please." He looked around at all the frantic students. "I will be glad to purge this monstrosity from all your so-called 'smart phones'. But please, let's do it after class." 

A sophomore in the back row with rapidly shifting eyes and a knit brow said, "But shouldn't we report Tank's death to the campus police or at least to the Assistant Dean for Student Affairs? It kinda seems like murder or at the very least, physical harassment."

"Quite perceptive of you Mr. ah...Christian. Fletcher Christian is it? No doubt your parents named you after the rogue master's mate in Mutiny on the Bounty. They must have valued independence of thought, the questioning of authority, and nonconformance. Well, I assure you Mr. Christian, such traits will only get you killed here at Wastewater.

"You would find your complaints to academic and civil authorities falling on deaf ears. Mr. Christian. Also you would find your academic record here at Wastewater expunged. Same goes for all the other records of your existence on this humble planet of ours. As consolation for this loss you will receive a new identity as a mass murderer serving the fifth year of a 99-year sentence for machine-gunning down a class of angelic, maximally cute fourth graders.

"How can we accomplish all this, you wonder. Well, the President is a tad enraged at our losses in mathematical achievement to the likes of Papua New Guinea and Afghanistan, and so he has set up special pilot educational experiments, which include this very class in which you are currently enrolled.

"Do you think that he would allow few deaths to stop his attempts to drag this great country of ours kicking and screaming out of the pit of academic imbecility. Do we not allow eighth graders to die at prodigious rates during middle school football practices? Is the great edifice of mathematics, created by the likes of Plato and Euclid less important than FUCKING MIDDLE SCHOOL FOOTBALL PRACTICE? Well is it Mr. Christian? Before you answer, please note that my finger is resting on the same red button I used to bifurcate the hapless Mr. Tanaka's brain a few moments ago, may the prophet smile upon him.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Mr. Christian."

"Nein, mein furher! Well maybe high school practice, but that is more serious. It is a pipeline to college and then the pros."

"And I suppose we would then find ourselves forced to recruit inferior Screaming Beaver footballers. Is that what you're saying Mr. Christian?" The good professor asked.

"Well, not in those exact words. Well, maybe."

"Well as they say, Mr. Christian, the moving index finger writes, and, having writ, moves on." Imnotanazi pushed the red button and Tanakafied the unfortunate Mr. Christian. Gray matter and bone fragments once again rained down upon the class.

A brown hand in the second row was raised.

"Yes, . Ramalama Dingdohng?"

"Is that why the university has been on lockdown for four months now, sir?"

Channeling his inner Rocky Balboa, Imnotanazi replied, "Absolutely. But this is diverting us from the main subject. Just as you will be intensely rewarded for a correct answer, you will be intensely punished for an incorrect answer, as I will now demonstrate with our golden-armed Screaming Beavers' pseudo-Viking QB.

Imnotanazi pushed a sequence of buttons, and Golden felt his 'nads being crushed by the very same ball squeezer cups that had given him such intense pleasure only a few moments ago. The cybernetic snatch that had so wonderfully showed him the way to eternal bliss now constricted painfully around his engorged member and tugged and shook it just like the great white shark trying to scarf the hapless Captain Quint down its considerable throat. Just when Skjold "Golden Arm" Odinsson thought things could not get any worse, his marvelously inserted anal dildo grew to a length of two feet and began to ram into him with utmost dispatch.




The Hive of Asgard



Golden thought he could feel smoke coming from all the modern educational tools to which his body was attached. Had he been a cartoon character, his eyeballs would be accordioning in and out of their sockets.

Then suddenly the right hemisphere of his brain went into hyperdrive and his left hemisphere found itself immersed a cartoon world composed by the right hemisphere that seemed as real as rain. Every cartoon villain, from Tom the Cat to Yosemite Sam and Elmer Fudd, was running right for him. Fudd was carrying a rather nasty looking AK-47 rifle, and Yosemite Sam packed an Uzi.

Wiley Coyote was hawking Acme weapons out of a suitcase, but Golden seemed to remember that Consumer Reports had given Acme weapons a quite unfavorable safety rating.

Suddenly Jerry the Mouse grabbed Golden's golden arm and pulled him to safety inside a system of mouse tunnels that would have made the Mexican drug kingpin El Chapo proud.

Then he felt someone shaking his shoulder. "Wakey, wakey, Golden Arm."

He opened his eyes to behold the welcome sight of the multiracial Kayoko Lokisdottir. "Are you OK? You'd better wake up now."

Golden's heart was still beating at a frantic clip. He never realized the awesome power a kitty-cat's claws posed to a mouse. "Yeah, I'm OK," he said."

"Did it hurt?"

"Oh yeah.

"Herr Professor Imnotanazi, I will never skip another homework assignment," Golden said. I will never get another question wrong again, I swear. You'll see. I'm a changed man."

"A worthy ambition but the proof is, as they say, Mr. Odinsson, in the pudding.

"Now class I need you all to pay attention to this next, very important feature of the program. There is a national effort to decrease the number of women who drop out of the STEM pipeline."

Golden raised his hand.

"That's the science, technology, engineering and mathematics pipeline, for those of you unfamiliar with higher education," Imnotanazi said

Odinsson lowered his golden arm.

"To decrease the number of woman who willfully elect to drop of the STEM rat race, this program is has been modified for women. When a problem is posed for the class, you skirts, I mean broads, may answer the question yourselves, or, and here is the clincher, you also may answer for any male student of your choice. To send a message to male students who may have sexually harassed you or may have uttered a politically incorrect phrase within your earshot, or whose pupils may have dilated as they walked by you, all you need to do is punch in the wrong answer and then student's ID number which you will see on your console. Then that sexist pig (I'm just reading the written instructions they gave it, so hate the message, not the messenger) will be punished no matter what answer he types on the keyboard. This punishment is additive, so if three women enter the wrong answer for the male student, his punishment will be three times more severe than if only one woman sends the wrong answer to him.

"You skirts, I mean broads, I mean cunts, may also enter an answer for yourselves and will get rewarded or punished on the basis of your answer. So unless you're a masochist, only answer for yourself if you are pretty sure your answer is correct. Women are not required to answer for themselves, only to enter at least one answer, either for yourselves or for a male student of your own choosing."

"What about trannies?" Twinkletoes Jones asked from Row F.

Imnotanazi ignored his question and returned to the subject at hand. "Was that clear? OK, let's get started with a simple question. Is it possible that a diffeomorphic function could be a Reimannian inversion of a Leibnizian polyinversion in functor space?"

There ensued enough frantic clicking to rival a cricket serenade in June. Someone screamed, and Golden looked around to see the burning flesh of the lothario Fast Hymie aka "God's Gift" aka "Slick" Felson. Smoke poured from beneath Hymie Felson's brain collar. His eyes bugged out in the same way Golden's had a few minutes before. He took a quick peek under Felson's toga and watched in horror as Fast Hymie's ball cups crushed and liquified his family jewels, the contents of which then poured copiously onto the classroom floor.

Even Herr Professor Imnotanazi was so appalled that he withdrew his marshmallow from Fast Hymie's groin area. He mercifully pressed the red button and Tanakafied the often way-too-fast Fast Hymie Feldson. Viscera and bone and brain fragments once more rained down upon the class.

"Double-Ewww," remarked the twice-splattered Emmy Noether.

Imnotanazi picked up the intercom mike. "We need a cleanup on Aisle Six," he said. "No, actually make that that Aisles Six, Seven and Eight, and Rows C through F. Hell, bring every bucket and mop you can find and at least six Hazmat suits.

"Well, in light of the present janitorial emergency, I will dismiss you fifteen minutes early today, unless there are objections. Only one hand was raised, that of Francis Asspucker Jones. Imnotanazi ignored it.

"Well class, I wish you Happy Holly Days, Seasons Greetings, Good Yule, Merry Kwansa, Neurotogenic Hannuka, and a Wonderful Jihad, and whatever else I am allowed to say in this politically correct age of ours. 

"Oh, and Odinsson, you simply must get together with Ms. Lokisdottir regularly and bone up' on Diff Transformations over the break, if you catch my drift,." Imnotnazi said with a wink.

He continued, "Oh how I wish I could be a twenty-year old twit flunking remedial Algebra I. I envy you, Mr. Odinsson. Keep eating those oysters even though it is, dare I say it, Christmas.

"Well ta-ta. Class dismissed. Go shuffle along then."

It took only a minute or two for Kayoko Lokisdottir to catch up with Golden Arm Odinsson as the students processed out of the lecture hall.

She snuck up behind him and wrapped her arm around Golden's multimillion-dollar right arm, feeling the hardness of his biceps. She pressed her left breast against said arm, and she could feel him gasp, all the way down to his groin, or groan, as Archie Bunker so aptly put it. She then traced a complex pattern on his tantalized abs, using the Vulcan mind-meld technique unleashed by the very hot Vulcan T'Pol in more than one episode of "Star Trek: Enterprise." Few people realized that the scripts for these episodes were written by actual Vulcans. You will learn nothing about aliens from the mainstream drive-by media. But the truth is out there, mainly in fanboycosplay3657's blog every Monday morning. 

The Screaming Beavers' QB was now putty in Kayoko hand's. She batted her eyelashes at him. "Goldie honey, I have to go home from Christmas to see my family. They live in the Adirondacks year-round. You must have family to see too."

"Not really" , Golden said. "My dad is serving six months in county for coldcocking the Fightin' Seal Pups' mascot with a Louisville Slugger."

"I can understand why people didn't like that. And your mom?"

Tears came to Golden eyes. "She's serving twenty to life in some snakepit for the criminally insane."

"What for?"

"Sex Addiction and Felonious Nymphomania."

"Jeez Golden, I don't think that those are even crimes. If they are, slap the cuffs on me and bind me to the bars."

Golden's golden scepter rose at that thought.

His mind harked back to that fateful day upon Capitol Hill that his mother, Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson, was sentenced to that cruel term.

THE SAGA OF GOLDEN'S MILF 

"As you know, Mrs. Odinsson, we have reached the penalty phase of these hearings, which will determine the severity of your sentence. The sentence will be based on the clear and present danger that you present to society, the remorse you feel for performing the many thousands of lascivious acts you have been accused of performing, the details of which have already been presented in lurid detail to the jury over a hundred times.

As this is not Sweeps Week, we will not be presenting the graphic details of these degenerate acts at this time. I know that this will be disappointing to long-time viewers of these proceedings. Hell, it will disappoint me most of all," said the surprisingly loquacious Special Guest Judge John Thomas, whose brother has still had never spoken in his 24 years on the Supreme Court. 

"But don't worry, there will be appeals, civil suits, Congressional hearings and many other venues," his Honor said. "We will hear much more about these nefarious events, and I for one do not intend to miss one microsecond in their recounting. Neither should you, our faithful viewers, who have helped to propel C-Span 4 into first place among all cable channels, news, pornographic or otherwise.

"But let us return to the grim matter before us. Mrs. Odinsson, you have testified that, just like the fun-loving, mouth-breathing villain Frank Booth in the iconic cinema classic Blue Velvet by David Lynch, (lovingly portrayed by the distinguished thespian Dennis Hopper), you will fuck anything that moves. Is that still the case?"

"Oh Ah would if Ah could, your Honor," the defendant said, lifting her chained wrists in supplication and giving her silky red hair a shake that resulted in its spilling over the over her oh-so-succulent breasts.

"Would you fuck me on a chair?"

"Ah would fuck you on a chair. Ah would fuck you anywhere. Ah would fuck you with your wife."

"That might fuck up my life."

"Would you fuck me on a plane?"

"Ah would fuck you on a plane. Ah would fuck you on a train."

"Would you boff a tyke?"

"Ah would not boff a tyke. Ah would not boff him on his trike."

"Would you hump an armadillo?"

"Ah would not hump an armadillo. That is not mah peccadillo."

"Would counsel please approach the bench?" Judge Thomas said.

Johnnie Cochran III, Harry T. "Night Court" Stone, and Saul Goodman did just that.

Judge Thomas leaned forward and said, "We seem to have a fucking problem here fellas, literally . No matter how much I badger her, she will not cop to any desire or intent to commit a felonious sexual act such as bestiality and pedophilia. As we all know, nymphomania, snake-swallowing, analingus, pussy-lapping, toe-sucking, cornholing, and most other forms of onanism and polymorphous perversity in general are, for all intents and purposes, no longer considered to be crimes, or at least are no longer enforced as such, praise be to God and my brother Clarence on the Court .

"As the delectable and delightful Mrs. Odinsson has not committed, and harbors no intent or desire to commit, any criminal act, I'm afraid that we have no choice but to release her back into the fucked-up cesspool that spawned her in the first place. Thus, we will have to release her on her own recognizance after completion of one week of intensive training that will enable her to carefully consider, identify, and experience every act of extreme moral turpitude that exists or could possibly exist, given the yoke of the laws of physics that cruelly dictate what physical acts are topologically possible, if perhaps morally despicable."

"Aw, jeez," Night Court's Judge, Harry Stone, said. "Do you see how hot and hungry that woman is? I can't run through the list of sexual perversities I want to perform with her in just one lousy week." 

Johnnie Cochran III nodded his head in agreement with Judge John Thomas. " If the writ don't fit, you must acquit." he observed, tears filling his eyes.

"We could go mental," Saul Goodman said. "She really does pose a clear and present danger to herself and the community, especially if she talks to my wife. We could probably get an open-ended involuntary commitment over at the Emile Kraepelin Center for the Hopelessly Psychotic. They'll commit just about any one there , no questions asked. They need the scratch. They'll take her."

"Yeah, but that's all the way over in Silver Springs," Johnny Cochran III said. "That's a 50-minute commute for me. I've already been lying to my wife about working late four days a week. No way can I do Silver Springs. Plus she's really hot and really bad. I don't want to miss out on the visitations. Look, I'm exposed as much as you three guys are. I deserve a share of the nookie."

"How about we put her in the Krafft-Ebing Center for Intractable Paraphilia?" Judge Thomas said. "That's only ten minutes from here."

"Isn't that where we just put Lilith 'Cojones Sucker' Jones? People are starting to talk, you know."

"It'll be OK. This one's not like Jones. She's not going to talk, and if she does, it's going to be with her mouth full. No one will be able to understand a word she says. Besides, the staff at Krafft-Ebing are very discreet."

"Ok, Krafft-Ebing it is then."

"How long of a sentence should we give her?

"This one's going to last a long, long time," Judge Thomas observed. "What's the ETA on menopause for her?"

"Twenty-five years." Saul Goodman said, looking at his calculator.

"Ok, so we're looking at a commitment term of at least twenty years and a maximum of twenty-five. Are we all agreed?"

The legal eagles all nodded their felonious little heads and walked back to their seats.

Judge John Thomas' john thomas rose, as did the Judge himself a second later. He banged his gavel on the bench and announced, "We will take a one hour recess for lunch. Will the defendant please see me in my chambers.

Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson rose from the defense table. "You mean po' lil' ol' me? Ah thought that was strickly fo' lawyers and otha' impohtent t figures, such a yo'self," she said, batting her eyes at the aptly named Judge John Thomas. She shook her long wavy crimson hair so that it spilled over her humongous aching breasts and down her glorious back almost to her waist.

"Don't believe everything you see on those court TV shows," Judge Thomas told the scarlet-haired vixen. "You'd be surprised what goes on behind those doors."

"You will find that Ah'm not an easy woman to surprise, Yo' Honor. Ah have been around the block once or twice my mahself. OK, maybe a thousand times. But Ah enjoyed evah' one o' them, yo' Honah. Evah' last one o' them."

"Will the bailiff please escort the defendant to my chambers."

Nostradamus "Bull" Shannon, on loan from Harry Anderson, Jr.'s night court rose, from his chair, all 6'9" of him. The glare of the light reflected off his bald head was blinding. 

Bull seized the chain that bound Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson's wrists to her ankles and hauled her into a vertical position.

"Oh mah, ahn't you the forceful brute!" the raised defendant said. "You can chain me to yo' bedposts any time honey. Any time at all."

Bull grabbed her chain and hauled her like a piece of carry-on luggage into the Judge's chambers and dropped her unceremoniously on the floor. She looked up at the dark figure of Judge John Thomas, admiring the tent in his robe.

"Well, if Ah am not mistaken, Judge Thomas, you are glad to see me. Here we are, alone at last, give or take one bald gorilla lurking in the corner, and he is free to jump in at any time whenever Ah summon him. How about unlocking me, big fella? Ah need to have mah hands free if Ah am to be properly sodomized."

Bull reluctantly removed her chains. He really liked it best when they were in irons and helpless. But just as she could be freed in a matter of seconds, she could be chained and trussed just as quickly.

His Honor stepped forward. "Well, lookie what we got here," Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson exclaimed. "A damn ripcord!" She tugged on the release mechanism and the Judge's robe fell from his shoulders and collapsed on the floor.

"Ah always thought that you judges went commando under yo' robes, and mah-o-mah Ah was right. This is an unexpected pleasure, suh, an unexpected pleasure indeed." She raked her nails up and down Judge John Thomas' namesake, leaving thin traces of blood in their wake.

She licked her lips. "Oh, Ah do like the smell of spilled blood in taboo places. Ah am sorry, suh, I must taste you now." She knelt down and plunged her mouth over the Judge's massive member, her tongue carefully licking its scratched veins to capture every drop of spilled blood.

"You know, even our prison jumpsuits come equipped with rip cords," the Judge informed her. He yanked hers and pulled the orange prison garb clean off of Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson's otherwise naked body.

Her breasts were firm and round, her stomach as lithe as any serpent's. Her red tresses flowed down her back, bouncing with every thrust of her mouth as she continued to fellate the Judge's not inconsiderable shaft.

He seized her head, feeling the soft flow of her silky hair through his fingers as he pumped harder and harder into her insatiable mouth, which sucked him with total abandon. The nymphomaniac Mrs. Odinsson raised her hands to cup his balls, squeezing and playing with them as she hoovered his AK-47, This was finally a motion that the Judge could never deny, no matter what the grounds.

Judge Thomas could only hope that his performance would stand up against his brother Clarence's protégé, a porn star going by the moniker Long Dong Silver. 

She felt the rata-tat-tat as Judge John Thomas's weapon fired into her thirsty mouth, filling it with hot judicial jism. She licked her lips, not wanting to waste a single precious drop and held his organ in her mouth as it began to detumesce, licking his Honor's still somewhat solid gavel in hope of getting a rise and repeat performance out of him.

She heard a shuffling sound, as well as whispers and giggling that appeared to come from being the Judge's wall tapestry of Charlie Sheen riding the profusely tentacled Kraken from the myth of Perseus and Andromeda. 

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she said, channeling her inner Billie Burke and Judy Garland. The legal staff involved in the case sheepishly emerged from behind tapestry. They were all wearing judicial robes.

"Pull 'em, gentlemen, " Lolita Odinsson said." They each yanked their ripcords , and their robes fell to the ground, allowing naked justice to proceed. 

"Well yo' honors and esquires and especially bailiffs, Ah see that Ah have yo' rapt attention. Have y'all decided on what yo' going to do to me?

"In the long-term, yes," Judge Thomas said, "but what will transpire in the next few minutes and hours is anybody's guess."

"Well tell me about the long term then."

"We have decided to have you involuntarily committed as a patient in the Krafft-Ebing Center for Intractable Paraphilia, or KECIP"

"Ah do not like the sound of that involuntary part. However, Ah must admit that evah involuntary act in which Ah have participated was most delicious, most delicious indeed. That is why "Yo Honor" should feel free to chain me cruelly, and gangbang and sodomize me to yo' hearts content. Come to think about it, involuntary is A-OK with me. 

"Well, it would be a very voluntary form of involuntary commitment for 20 or 25 years."

"How is that even possible , Yo' Honor?"

"Well, at KECIP, you would get your own room at the Presidential Suite level in the nation's finest hotels, complete with room service and free maid service, a top cable TV package, access to KECIP's extensive recreational facilities and programs, including trips to the top destinations and sporting events around the world. 

"KECIP offers a breakfast bar each day from 5AM to 1PM, a salad bar features full meal entrees from noon to 11PM.

"You will also receive free medical and dental care, including but not limited to compulsory vaccination against all STDs as well as spermatozoa.

"You would be free to leave at any time, which is what makes it a voluntary commitment.

"But to get the government to pay for this, you need to be involuntarily committed. That's why we need your John Hancock on the dotted line."

"And the government recognizes the legitimacy of voluntary involuntary commitment?"




The Hive of Asgard



"The government is pretty stupid, ma'am. Plus nobody ever reads these contracts anyway."

"Well, thank you. Ah have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

"I'll bet you have, my naked scarlet-tressed , brig-breasted, hypersexed fox. You won't be bored at KECIP, I can assure you of that," Judge Thomas told her. "You will have a steady stream of visitors wanting to engage in every conceivable act, many of which would strike most people as inconceivable if not physically impossible given the cruel physical laws that govern this unfair universe in which we all float. But you will prove the naysayers wrong, Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson. I have complete faith in you."

"Well let's get this rodeo started," the eminently humpable Mrs. Odinsson said, as she ran down the line of five jutting cocks , high-fiving them and setting them all swaying in inverted pendulum motion like metronomes at a third grade piano recital.

"Bullie dear, would you mind chaining the Judge sunny-side up on the big wooden X over in the corner there?" (This was not the first sentencing hearing conducted in Judge Thomas' Court, and it wouldn't be the last. The Judge's chamber was well-equipped for this sort of hearing, as was the Judge's namesake itself.) 

The 6'9" bailiff dragged the cumbersome cedar torture bed out into the middle of the room. The Judge climbed upon the X-shaped cedar cross and stretch his arms and legs out so that Bull could bind his limbs to the cruel torture device. 

The lovely Mrs. Odinsson climbed upon the body of Judge John Thomas, already strapped helplessly, sunny-side-up, to the cedar crucifix. She stretched out her arms and legs upon the hard cross and lay down upon the Judge's chained and spread-eagled body. Placing her limbs upon his, she covered his body with her own trembling flesh, placing his straining cock into the groove of her nether lips. The assembled court officials took little time in chaining her legs to the diabolical cross. For some reason, they left her arms free, probably because she would need her hands to work the crowd, given the 5 to 1 ratio of men to women in their little coven. 

Delilah Odinsson had never met a stiff cock that she didn't want to lick, suck and drain. She ran her hands over the Judge's trembling thighs and over the hard washboard abs of his stomach. The Judge arched his back in a futile attempt to bring his throbbing cock and churning balls closer to Mrs. Odinsson's undoubtedly talented mouth. His whole body was on fire. Seeing this, the red-haired vixen brought her mouth to the Judge's trembling thigh. She licked his hard quadriceps muscles and the inside of his thighs as she ran her fingers lightly over his torso and legs, his body begging for release. She climbed further up his body and her lips made tentative contact with his balls. She brought her mouth up to those divine orbs, and flicked her tongue like a serpent's against the moving, twisting targets of his screaming balls. She took one and then another into her hungry mouth, swallowing each of them in turn, swirling her tongue around them. She closed her lips hard upon them and then cruelly popped them as they were released, one after the other, as she withdrew her torturing, tantalizing mouth/womb from Judge John Thomas' yearning genitals.

"Do not come yet," she told the distinguished jurist, "or you will miss the ecstasy that this humble slave /cum bucket can bestow upon yo' Honor." 

She lowered her mouth to the center of his helmet, and flicked her tongue out to capture the sweet drops of his precious precum as they emerged from his shaft. Tiring of this game, she grabbed his divine scepter and ran her tongue up and down the sensitive underside of the eminent Judge's straining shaft. He arched his back and thrust his pelvis in a futile attempt to gain entrance into her inner body. She tortured him by wrapping her hand around his divine gavel and pumping that throbbing organ to bring the famed jurist to the verge of ecstasy and then denying him over and over again. Not having the heart to continue the Judge's torment for a second longer, the red-haired vixen plunged her wet mouth deeply upon the jurist's straining shaft. She began to slide her right hand up and down his now highly-lubricated organ at a faster rate , matching the tempo of her bobbing head as she sucked the living daylights out of him .

She suddenly plunged down all the way, fully impaling her head on Judge Thomas' iron lance. She felt his organ break past the sensitive uvula that stood sentinel over his throat. Before it could even get out a "who goes there?," the Judge's namesake was halfway down her esophagus, ending the possibility of any further conversation.

She began to thrust her head her up and down on Judge Thomas' john thomas like a crazed trick-or-treater bobbing for apples. She grabbed his tortured balls with her free hand and squeezed them hard, like a recalcitrant tube of toothpaste, and their hot contents spewed down her throat, and Golden Arm's divine mom felt the hot and salty Judge jism filling her mouth, pouring across her cheeks and down her neck. 

The Judge just lay beneath her tantalized body like a deflated balloon. 

"This one has amused me ," the insatiable Ms. Odinsson proclaimed. "Bring me another!" 

They unshackled her legs, and she rolled aside so that they could chain her very own dream-team lawyer, Johnnie Cochran III, beneath her. Judging by the size of his elephant's trunk, he was definitely of 100% African descent. They strapped him to the X cross a la Judge John Thomas. Unshackled, Delilah could now climb higher than before. She straddled Cochran 3.0's organ and guided it into her love tunnel. Still horny despite the previous festivities, she bounced up and down on his granite skyscraper like a tyke with a new pogo stick on Christmas morning . She took the shyster's head in her hand and kissed his eyes, her tongue tracing the curves of his ear, flickering in and out of his auditory canal, as she bounced frantically up and down on his shaft. She licked his nose and his face as her hands ran up and down his torso. She stepped over him and impaled herself anew, but this time facing in the opposite direction, allowing her hands to reach down to seize his balls. She gripped them like a saddlehorn, and she began to post up and down violently as she rode his tortured shaft, bringing both of them to the verge of ecstasy over and over again, and then cruelly taking it away as she teased and tantalized his cojones. Finally, she could take it no longer and she came in a violent shower of love juice. She grabbed his balls hard and she felt the heat of his sperm as they spewed into her honey pot with a force she surely would have reported to the good folks at Guinness World Records, if she had only remembered to bring her water-pressure gauge. Oh well, she would soon get another chance, judging by the lustful gleam in the bailiff Bull Shannon's eyes. She was not sure whether she liked the tightness with which Bull grasped the handle of his cat o' nine tails, but her wet pussy harbored no such doubts, and she said, "Bring it on, fellas! Get out the ropes and hogtie me boys. Come on, we don't have all day." (Actually they had precisely that.)

They dropped a model 4.0 wooden binding frame from the ceiling of his Honor's chambers. They wasted no time binding the lovely Ms. Odinsson's delicate wrists and ankles with strong hemp rope. They pulled her legs far apart and bound them to separate beams so that they could spread them apart to their hearts' content. They ran two ropes beneath her chin and pulled her head into the locked and upright position. They tied the ropes around her ankles, forcing her body into a "U" position. Her head and mouth were now at the mercy of her tormenters. Bull Shannon or more precisely his mega cock (12" long and with a girth of 4") entered the visual field of the apprehensive defendant. Her eyes widened and she began to squirm in a futile attempt to escape the fate that would momentarily befall her. 

Bull stood in front of her, his colossus jutting out and pointing directly at the delicate orifice of Ms. Odinsson's mouth. He nodded at Saul Goodman and Harry "Night Court" Stone and motioned them to open the MILF's mouth. They did just that, Goodman taking her jaw and Stone holding her skull in place.

"OK, bitch," Bull roared. "Ready or not, here I come." He ran at full tilt and battered his way half down her throat. Bull snorted, getting ready for the next charge. With bound limps and no toreador's red cape, there was no way to prevent it. She stretched her mouth as widely as possible to receive the next onslaught. Bull held her head tightly as he rammed his way into the poorly equipped toreador's mouth. He hauled back and battered into her inadequate orifice once again, this time succeeding in pushing aside the fleshy swaying pendulum of the uvula that guarded the entrance to her throat and inner self.

Suddenly there was a clatter as the door to the Judge's chambers was thrust open. In walked an irate Nancy Disgrace, a former prosecutor who had never met a defendant that wasn't guilty. She currently served as a consultant on criminal trials for CNN.

"Why didn't you advise me that this hearing was taken place? You know I like to be present at these things." She began to sob, as she did all too frequently after her humiliating loss in Dancing with the Stars.

"There, there," Johnnie Cochran III said, patting her back in an attempt to console her. "It's just that you're not a judge anymore. Not really. But if you feel that way, let us make it up to you. How about if we let you use the defendant in any vile way imaginable. Fuck the Geneva Convention. That doesn't even apply at the local court level."

Nancy Disgrace wiped tears from her eyes. "Do you really mean it?" she said, her face brightening.

"Do your worst," Judge Thomas said.

Odinsson glanced back as the former prosecutor pulled the ripcord on her black gown to reveal a versatile, heated, lubricated and vibrating black mega-dildo bearing four prongs and two small caps. Two of the large prongs/faux shafts were already deeply inserted in the unforgiving TV celebrity's cooze and cornhole. Nancy Disgrace's versatile sexual appliance also came complete with two vibrator cups meant to stimulate its users' clits. She wasted little time in in popping the clit caps on herself as well as over the hyper-enthusiastic Lolita Odinsson's divine bud.

"I hope you rot in hell, you perverted, raping bitch," the former prosecutor said as she rammed the two remaining large shafts into the defendant's ass and cunt. "I'm gone to ride you like you have never been ridden before. You will not be able to walk again after I am done with, you, you twisted perverted defendant. You are just like all the defendants before you, a filthy, putrid worm suitable only for a robin's breakfast."

"Actually, we have already determined that she is not guilty of any criminal sexual acts," Judge Thomas said. "She is as innocent as the morning dew, Madam Prosecutor, and tastes just as sweet."

"Are you guys sure? Not even indecent exposure?"

"Nothing, Your Excellency."

Infuriated, the former prosecutor pushed a button bringing the six-pronged attachment to life and impaled both her and her willing partner on both the ass and cunt dildoes. She pounded these warm, lubricated, infallible shafts deeply with the innocent body of the unfortunate Ms. Lolita Jezebel Delilah Odinsson and her own far-from-innocent corpus delicti. She hauled back and rammed her again and again. She ducked her head under the ropes that hogtied her victim and began to lick her victim's contorted spine.

As she did so, Bull Shannon continued to batter his way in and out of the defendant's tormented mouth, with the strong encouragement of Nancy Disgrace.

All thought ended for them, and there was only the battering of Bull's ramrod, the intense sucking of two warm, vibrating clit caps, and the brutal, albeit delightful, cybernetic cornholing of two oh-so-willing participants. 

Finally, Bull shot his hot manna into the stretched mouth of Golden Odinsson's sainted mother, and she and Nancy Disgrace came simultaneously, their juices pouring out of their snatches. 

Nancy Disgrace climbed upon Ms. Odinsson's back beneath the ropes that bound her feet and wrists. She stroked her victim's hair, kissed her eyes, and licked her ears. "There, there, little one. Momma is here, Momma is here.

Tears streamed out of the former prosecutor's eyes. "Can't we just keep her? Put her on house arrest at my place, something like that?"

Judge John Thomas put his arms around the crying former prosecutor. "There, there. She's going to be committed to the Krafft-Ebing Center for Intractable Paraphilia," His Honor said. "That's only a six mile drive from your place. You can visit her any time you want to. Hell, you can even take some of us along to spice up the visit. She's a great sport and a real trooper. You can perform any depraved, despicable, sadistic act, and she will just ask you for more. 

"Does that make you feel any better?"

Nancy Disgrace tried to stifle her tears. She nodded her head.

IN THE SUPER 8

But I digress. Severely.

Let us return to the pilgrimage of Skjold "Golden Arm" Odinsson and Kayoko Lokisdottir as they wend their way over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house they go. But not quite yet. It is a bitching 20-hour drive to Kayoko's family retreat in the mysterious recesses of Adirondacks. 

That is why our adventurers have holed up for the night in the Super 8 hotel off of Route 90 in Silver Creek, New York. Look closely and you can see their window, aglow solely with candlelight. If you are OK with being arrested as a peeping tom, bring your voyeuristic face even closer to this sacred window. Press your nose against the frosty class. Don't lick it though, that would freeze your tongue and bring the paddy wagons in a New York minute. Watch the flickering candlelight as it dances over our protagonists' naked skin.

"Are you sure you want to do this on our very first date?" Golden asked her. "Is this a date? I thought that this was supposed be to a tutoring session."

"Such events are not mutually exclusive, as you will see. Besides you must know the rite of pon farr before you can properly be introduced to my family."

"Pon farr, isn't that a Vulcan mating ritual?" ( Golden had been forced to memorize the dialogue from every Star Trek movie and show that had ever graced the silver screen and or flat screen, ever since that fateful day in September 1966, when the original series premiered, changing the fate of all mankind. It was all part of Wastewater's Physics for Poets course, which was de facto compulsory for jocks like Skjold 'Golden Arm' Odinsson, who cannot seem to grasp the elements of Diffeomorphic Transformations of Nonlocal Semi-Logical Quasi-Riemannian Manifolds, no matter how much they were simplified for them.

"Just wait until you meet the Afikomen. You will be glad for all the training I give you then."

"Who?"

"He is the only man at the Temple of the Black Lotus, which is where my family lives. Be quiet, we dare not speak his name. His schlong is said to be one of the Fifty Wonders of the World. It is said that even frigid shiksas drool at the sight of it. I should know." 

"But I thought you dare not speak his name."

"Oh not his given name, silly, his title, 'Afikomen'."

Have you not already said it several times?"

Kayoko just shrugged her lovely shoulders, and her soft Viking hair cascaded down her back and over her lovely, albeit incongruous, Japanese face. Golden could discern little that was Jewish in her. Perhaps she had been adopted, or more likely genetically engineered by hidden Nazi or Nipponese scientists who never stopped fighting World War II. Golden was certain ready to 'nip on 'ese gargantuan hooters.

"But I thought there were supposed to be Seven Wonders of the World."

"Whoever made up that list has never fucked one of the acolytes at Black Lotus."

Golden almost said, "But isn't the Afikomen the piece of matzo that is hidden at the end of each Passover Seder so that that the children can find it?"

The pride of the Screaming Beavers pigskin squad winced as soon as he realized that he just revealed his knowledge of Jewish rituals, which was somewhat out of bounds for Aryan, if not pure Viking, gridders such as himself. He had been led to such knowledge by a desire to hold and squeeze the huge breasts of such classmates and coworkers as Shoshana Surenoff, Yael Komhere, Talimi Whatuwant, and Zissel Hafftodo. In the end of course, he had squeezed all eight of the aforementioned hooters on multiple occassions. 

In fact, he had submitted to multiple requests from the Jewish girls over at the Upsolong Omigod Gramma sorority to be gangbanged by their members at an endless string of drunken parties on Parents' Weekends, which often involved their forebears and ancestors. (Hence the misspelled Greek letter Gramma in their name.) In fact, Parents Weekends were Golden's favorite times at Wastewater U. In his opinion, a woman's gazongas did not reach their peak glory until the age of 60. Even then such development required that the woman have an unbridled appetite for latkes, kugel, matzo balls, and God help us, gefilte fish.

Golden knew that he was supposed to report sorority gangbangs to the Dean of Bacchanalia, but he knew that such an action would end such festivities or at least move them to the weekly Wastewater faculty meetings, where he could no long see them, much less participate in them. It was a no-brainer. silence did not equal death. In the sage words of Frankie Valli, silence was golden. 

His least favorite part of Parents Weekend were the endless spelling bees at Upsolong Omigod Gramma sorority. For instance, he had argued with the Chairman of Wastewater's English Department for several hours that word "their" should be spelled "their" rather than "thier,." but to no avail.

But say what you want about the quality of Wastewater's faculty, the tuition was dirt cheap, if not cesspool cheap.

But one thing he had learned from the Upsolong Omigod Gramma sorority's orgies was the rewards of simple and immediate obedience. 

"Assume the position," Kayoko commanded.

As instructed, Golden sat down in the lotus position in the middle of the Persian rug, surely an anomaly within the Super-8 chain.

She bent over him, dangling her perfect breasts in front of his face. He reached for them, but they danced away from his grasping hands. "You may touch me only when I say you can touch me, oh Viking warrior for the Screaming Beavers, even though my beaver is already screaming for your touch."

At this news, Golden's Viking spear arose even further, and Kayoko lowered her cooz so that it was just out of reach of Golden's straining shaft.

"You should know a few things about my family before we visit them." she said. We belong to a sect known as the Black Lotus. We practice a form of tantric Wiccan sadomasochism. To show our devotion to the One, we practice extreme forms of bondage and discipline. I hope you will be OK with this."

Golden's yard marker rose an additional three inches.

"Well, I'll take that as a yes," Kayoko said, grinning from ear to ear. OK then, we can start our tutoring session."

"You may now kiss the bride, I mean the breasts."

Golden could easily palm a football, as he now demonstrated upon the Japanese Viking's divine hooters, which no longer avoided his grasp but rather pressed tightly against his paws. He began to squeeze them hard and felt a milk-like fluid running over his palms. For some reason, this only served to turn him on even more.

Kayoko grabbed his head and pressed it hard against her right breast. Golden opened his mouth as widely as he could, and sucked the divine fluid that poured from her nipple. It was sweet as honey, and judging by its viscosity, probably was honey.




The Hive of Asgard



Kayoko grabbed his head and moved it to the fountain of her left breast, from which Golden likewise imbibed. He felt a warmth suffusing through his body, and he could no longer tell where Kayoko's body ended and his began. They were, to all intents and purposes, one being.

Kayoko then stepped over Golden, who was still sitting in the Lotus Position and straddled him. She ran her fingers over his brow, his nose, his lips, and his torso.

"You must not come before I do," Katyoko whispered. "The penalty for doing will be quite severe."

Kayoko's golden milk suffused throughout Golden's brain, what little there was left of it. He felt that they were one being, that he could never leave her side, no matter how much his limited intellect wanted to, if only to preserve his own identity. Still, he was not going to report this event to the killjoy Dean of Bacchanalia, no matter what forms of degradation he was about to experience. In fact the sisters at Upsolong Omigod Gramma had taught him just how pleasant degradation could be.

Kayoko grabbed his long blond hair firmly.

"I'm going to impale myself upon your spear, my fair-haired warrior. Are you ready to withstand my lust?"

She did not give him time to answer this rhetorical question but rose up and dropped down upon his yearning, rock-hard shaft with the full force of gravity. Golden gasped at this sudden penetration. She began to rock, and Golden's fire began to rise. He grabbed her massive tits with both paws and pressed them hard against her ribcage with all his might.

Her rocking became more intense, and he feared that he could hold out no longer. He grabbed her left breast and brought it to his mouth and drank from it mightily, so that he could feel the selflessness of their union and perhaps delay his fate for a few seconds longer. Soon no manna was left in her left mammary. He performed the same rite on her right tit, almost draining it in his thirst.

He felt her belly shuddering against his abs as she came, and an ocean of manna flooded over Golden's thighs.

"Do not come. You must drink me with your cock before we can enter into nirvana of Oneness."

"How the fuck am I going to do that?" Golden muttered.

"Just trust in the All," Kayoko said. "Just give yourself to the One."

Golden released his painful grip on her hooters and tried to withhold his own orgasm, as he sought to merge with the All-Mind. He tried to drink her hot cum with the small mouth of his burning shaft, but it was futile."

"Do not even try, my Viking . If you try, you will not succeed. Only by surrendering to the All will you gain my precious juices."

Golden tried to relax and give himself over to the flow. Suddenly he felt his cock hoovering Kayoko's innermost being like a child trying to sucking the fleeing remnants of a chocolate shake though a straw. He drew the elixir up his shaft and felt its warmth as it poured back through his urethra and into his waiting balls, suffusing his entire being.

Then he too came, shooting his love deeply into Kayoko womb. She clutched his shoulder and held him against her as she came again. She collapsed into his strong arms, pressing her head against his hard chest. He stroked her Viking hair as they fell into the Nothingness that is Everything.

After holding Kayoko tightly against his chest for what seemed like hours, Golden broached the more academic aspects of their just completed encounter. "How is that even possible?" he asked his all-too-willing vertically multiracial companion. 

"It is really just a simple matter of reverse peristalsis," she said. "For instance, there are many lamas in Tibet who can reverse the flow of their ki and ingest food with their anuses, bring it all the way though their digestive systems and out their mouths. It requires the utmost spiritual discipline to achieve this feat. This is achieved by reverse peristalsis, in which the bhikkhu reverses the contractions of his digestive system."

"I hope they use a lot of mouthwash," Golden said. 

"Speaking of reverse peristalsis, I think I am about to blow lunch myself." Kayoko's gallant warrior confessed.

"Do not do that. You must keep my ki within your body if you want to have any chance to of fusing with the All-Mind.

"Forgive me, but I must tell you even more," Kayoko said. "There can be no secrets between us if we venture down this path. Not only can the Tibetan adepts reverse the flow of their digestive systems, they can also draw a turd into their anuses and bring up the meal that generated said turd in all its glory, steaming hot and without the peas touching the mashed potatoes or any other gauche outcomes."

"Now I'm really going to blow my lunch. How is that even possible? It defies the laws of physics. You cannot create order out of disorder. It defies the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which states that order must decrease in an isolated physical system. A highly ordered physical system like a perfectly set out Christmas dinner must evolve into a more disordered system, not the other way 'round. A broken glass will never leap from the floor and reassemble itself. In the same way, the physics sages teach us that poopies, or in Uncle Tevya's case explosive diarrhea, could never reassemble themselves into a perfectly laid out Christmas dinner."

"O yea of little faith, my golden-armed warrior, some of the highest adepts do not achieve these feats through reverse peristaltic contractions alone, which would be nothing more than a cheap parlor trick. Instead, they reverse time itself within their bodies. You see such time reversal is alimentary, my dear Watson."

"Great Gatsby, woman! This would solve the problem of world hunger and waste disposal at the same time. There would be such a thing as a free lunch, after all."

"Ah my dear Odinsson, if only it were that easy. Unfortunately, most citizens balk as the idea of chugging fresh poop into their asshole. You would be surprised at the resistance we at Black Lotus have encountered."

"No I wouldn't," Golden muttered. 

"But we do have a pilot program going on at Christmas, which you would be free to participate in. The Afikomen himself volunteers at many of the area's soup kitchens over the holiday season. People send him their Noel excreta. When enough samples have been collected, they are rushed in in sealed refrigerated truck to the soup kitchen. The Afikomen then squats over the poopies like a mother bird on her eggs and ingests them one by one. When he is ready, he nods to the soup line customer, who holds up a clean plate, and bingo he regurgitates a perfectly formed, steaming hot holiday dinner right onto the proffered plate, sometimes with a cold ice cream sundae on the side and never with the potatoes touching the peas.

"Not everyone is generous enough to donate their number twos. That is why our Director of Copraphagia has to make house calls. He appeals to the better natures of the anal rentives."

"Director of Coprophagia?"

"It may be roughly translated as Director of Shiteating. It is an elected and highly regarded and vital office, although I haven't seen many people inviting the Director over for supper. 

"Sometimes the Director has to clean their clocks sexually to obtain the needed fecal samples. One guy, a hayseed by the name of Clem Stolzfus, claimed that he was the seventh son of a seventh son and doubled as sin eater. He insisted on taking the sample through direct oral deposit. There is no accounting for tastes."

"There's no chance I will be elected to be the Director of Coprophagia while we are visiting your parents, is there?"

"Heavens no, sweetie. The next election is in June. But you can follow Clem on his rounds if you like."

"No that's OK. Really." 

Golden was somewhat amused by the way Black Lotus had morphed the one percenters' prime directive to the poor ("Eat shit and die") into the Black Lotus's slogan of "Eat shit and live." Jesus H. Christ Himself, with all his materialized fish, wine and loaves of bread, could not hold a candle to what Black Lotus was doing right here and now.

"Goldie honey, I'm so horny and thirsty," Kayoko Lokisdottir whispered. "We have to do the square root of 4,761 right now or I'm gonna burn up.

"69," Golden recited as if he were in an eighth grade math bee. How did he know that? He was normally so bad at mental arithmetic. Context, he supposed.

The leader of the Wastewater Screaming Beavers gently lay down on his back. His lovely Japanese, Viking and possibly Jewish companion straddled his face. He felt the light touch of her pendulous breasts as they traced their way down his torso. She offered them to his mouth, one by one. He drank deeply from them, and felt the warmth and vitality of their liquid manna suffusing his body once again.

He tried to engulf the entirety of her right hooter with his mouth, but it was a fool's errand, an impossible task. Kayoko cruelly removed said mammary from his grasping mouth. He felt Kayoko's erect nipples, as her divine hooters slid down his trembling abdomen, as she wrapped the fingers of her right hand around his burning shaft and bought it to her mouth. Her tongue circumnavigated the helmet and then she teased him by closing her lips around it tightly and then popping it in and out of her thirsty mouth.

He responded to her cruelty by grabbing her head and forcing it down upon his pole as he began to pump it violently in and out of her devouring mouth. She ran her hands up and down his straining thighs. She backed up on him, sliding her soaked cunt up his torso and then over his face and nose.

She began to rock on his face, to drown it in her manna. Golden reached out for the bud of her clit and stroked it in time with the sliding movements of her face. She seized his throbbing cock and balls, using them as a saddle horn as she rode Golden's pinned and drowned face. She felt his tongue as it eagerly lapped up her wetness. She grabbed his cock tightly and slid her mouth up and down on it. Then she squeezed his balls hard and was rewarded with a fountain of hot jism that poured down her throat. At the other end of the beast with two backs, Kayoko poured her essence down Golden's throat.

Their souls and flesh were now One. There were no longer any boundaries separating them. The cruel Other that was the material world no longer chilled their flesh. They lay in silence, lost in each other, neither of them wishing to end the Oneness that bound them together, perhaps for eternity. 

But there were still floating remnants of Maya, illusion, not to mention Golden's test anxiety. These elements of samsara teased them back to their unfinished task. Golden tried to reach out to grasp the Oneness, but it was just as elusive as the pigskin he fumbled in the last year's game against the Floundering Flounders in the Cornshucking Conference championship game.

Soon his mind was partially re-encapsulated within his still rambunctious body. His state was not lost on Kayoko Lokisdottir, and she gave his risen spear a playful swat, setting it into a pendulum motion not unlike the arrow on a metronome at a child's piano recital.

"We should probably get started on my tutoring," Golden said. "Once we get to Black Lotus, we may have trouble fitting enough sessions in to pass the Diffeomorphic Transformations final. Right now, I'm like Sam Cooke. Don't know nothing about topology, don't know much cohomology, but I do know that one and one is two, and if I could be with you, what a wonderful world this would be."

Kayoko pressed her fingers against Golden's lips. "Ssssh, silly. We just completed the tutoring. Want to see?"

Golden nodded his head.

"OK, my handsome jock. What is the semiotic differential of a five-valued logical conversion field?"

"That's easy. It's just the Gronkowski inverse of its image space."

"Ok, how about the pseudo-Leibnizian cover field of a superstring differential vector space?"

"That's obvious. It is the incoherent doubletalk generated by its associate professors."

A look of pure amazement came over Golden 's hitherto quasi-moronic face.

"By George, I think you've got it," she told the glowing quarterback. 

"Bernard Shaw's theorem over Pygmalion operators," Golden said, unable to stop the infinity of thoughts that were rampaging through his mind.

"How can I know all this shit?" the tousled-haired Viking asked his demi-Japanese tutor.

"You briefly merged with the all-Mind while we cleaned each other's sexual clocks a moment ago," Kayoko said. " Did you not feel it? The mixing of our fluids making us one soul, one self?"

"Indeed I did, my flaxen-haired Geisha. It felt for just a moment as though my mind encompassed the soul of this universe, that I had mastery of all real and possible knowledge."

"Which will enable you pass your Diff Trans exam with flying colors. You see, we at Black Lotus exist as a single organism, a single consciousness, a World Mind. Just as a praying mantis's prospective spouse or a spider's suitor offer the apple of their eyes their very own heads for their lovers' dining pleasure, just as soldier ants offer their own lives for the protection of the colony, we at Black Lotus are what the world-famous myrmecologist Edward O. Wilson calls a superorganism, a single being composed of spatially-separated parts."

"But I already feel some of this knowledge passing away," Golden said in an epistemological panic.

"Yes, my towheaded football chucker. You will need a series of booster shots to make this knowledge permanent."

"Booster shots?" Golden asked tremulously. Despite the astronomical number of ACL repairs to which he had been subjected in the course of his athletic career, not to mention all the electroshock treatments they had given him to snap him out of his many concussions and take them like a man, the Screaming Beavers' fearless leader was not too fond of needles.

"Like this," she said, grabbing his tumescent and still throbbing rod and guiding it to the welcoming entrance to her carving yoni. 

Golden could no longer remember why he had ever been afraid of booster shots.

INTO THE HIVE

For the final five miles, the road up the mountain was so bad, they had to call the Temple of the Black Lotus and request that they send down a horse-driven carriage to take them the rest of the way. Golden was not reassured when said carriage arrived and the driver was a hunchback bearing more than a passable resemblance to Marty Feldman, who told them that the caterwauling they were hearing were just "creatures of the night." 

The fragile carriage bounced violently as they ascended the last five miles. It almost overturned on two separate occasions. Its very framework threatened to come apart at the seams, and Golden feared for its structural integrity. However, to be fair to Black Lotus's groundskeeping staff, most of this bouncing and pounding was due to the unbridled sexual shenanigans of our two plucky protagonists, who occupied a vehicle that was far too fragile to contain their sexual ardor. 

When they finally disembarked from the rustbucket carriage on shaky legs, the driver, whose name turned out to Eeyore rather than Igor, bid them farewell.

"I bid you farewell," he said in some sort of Eastern European accent that Golden could not place. He whipped the horses into a galloping frenzy as he raced down the hill, apparently wanting to put as great a distance as he could manage between him and the Temple of the Black Lotus. 

Watching the disappearing carriage, Kayoko and Golden turned around and began to climb the two hundred stone steps leading to the Temple proper.

Huffing and puffing, they arrived at the large oaken door to the temple. As Golden reached for the gigantic bronze knockers, the door was suddenly opened for them. A woman with Guinness-worthy hooters pulled the door wide open for them.

"Why, look everyone, it's Kayoko. The prodigal daughter returns," she said. "And this must be Skjold Odinsson, the gridlock hero you have told us so much about."

"It's gridiron, ma'am. But a woman with your delectable pulchritude can call me what you like. My friends call me Golden Arm or just plain Golden."

"Oooh, handsome and a charmer at the same time. Hi, I'm Freya Rabinowitz, Kayoko's mom, at your service". She curtsied, affording Golden a panoramic view of her immense mounds and a cleavage rivaling the Grand Canyon.

Many of the clan had gathered around to welcome the new visitor. Golden was loathe to shift his view away from Kayoko's mom's juggernauts, but did manage to catch a look at the assembled crowd out of the corner of his eye. However, his gaze rapidly returned to Freya's gargantuan gazongas. His Viking's lance rose, throbbing despite the consummated sexual antics in the carriage ride just minutes ago.

"I see you like your prospective mother's physique," Freya Rabinowitz told the Screaming Beavers' star pigskin slinger. You might as well go ahead and take them out, cowboy. You know you want to. Even if it might cost you my Kayoko's hand, it sure as hell won't cost you my hand," Freya said, grabbing Golden's balls and rhythmically squeezing both them and his risen shaft through his pants.

Golden knew that this was a test of fidelity that he could not fail, if he wanted to be with Kayoko. Yet resistance was futile. He slipped his hands into the cups of Freya's leather armor, and grabbed her bare Hebraic tits in his bare hands. The sensation was delightful. He thought he must be in mammary heaven. 

His eyes nervously searched the crowd. He saw Kayoko nod her head, as a mischievous smile appeared on her face. This was evidently A-OK in her book.

"Take 'em both the way out and suck the shit out of them," Kayoko's buxom Jewish-Aryan mother commanded him, and he was powerless to resist. He freed Freya's magnificent mammaries completely from their leather prisons. He grabbed both of them in his large, strong quarterback's hands. He squeezed them so hard that he thought they might implode.

Again, he hastily scanned the crowd for their approval. His now dark-adapted eyes could see that they were all woman.

"Don't mind them, Golden," Freya said. "They want this as much as we do. Besides, look above you."

Looking upward, Golden saw that the entire ceiling was covered in mistletoe. An easy moral out if ever there was one. "In our family, if you meet under the mistletoe, you must fuck the living shit out of each other. Right out here in public, so that we all may share in the joy of the season."

She pulled his head down upon her right breast. "Drink me, football chucker. Drain my essence into your belly."

Golden took as much of Kayoko's mom's behemoth right tit into his mouth as he could manage. His entire visual field was soon filled by Freya Rabinowitz' delightful, luscious and creamy white skin.

Golden grabbed her font of all life with both hands as he attempted to drain her essence into his hungry body.

Freya held his head tightly against her as he gulped down her essence. She sniffed his golden locks. She smiled in exultation, taking another deep sniff of her prospective sons Viking hair.

"Ah, this one is of the true nectar. You have chosen wisely, daughter."

Kayoko gave her mother a mini-curtsy along with a faint smile of pride and some regret. She was not sure she would have Golden's body to herself ever again.

A black women, seemingly wearing the body of Serena Williams, emerged from the crowd. She smiled at him with a predator's gaze. "Hi. I'm Kayoko's cousin Watusi." She tousled his Viking locks with one hand and ripped the velcroed yellow jumpsuit clean off her own body with the other. 

"Welcome to the family," she said as she strolled around behind him and laid her delectables on Golden's naked back, as Freya Lokisdottir continued to nurse her new charge.




The Hive of Asgard



Watusi licked Golden's neck as she reached around to grab his Midgard Serpent in both hands. She slid her Nubian palms up and down that yearning shaft, which rivaled Gungir, the very spear of Odin himself, in length, girth and hypnotic grandeur.

She flicked her black tongue in out of Golden's ear, reclaiming his light with her darkness, as she grabbed his Gungir tightly with both hands and slid them up and down its prodigious length. 

A slim half-girl flopped her way across the reception floor, like a hapless, wounded, and maltreated dolphin trying to performing an inane trick for the rapt-eyed kiddies at SeaWorld. "Hi, I'm Kayoko's cousin Shifka, the siren of the sea, the first mermaid and mother of all the fish in the ocean in Scandinavian mythology," she told Golden.

"But of course you are," Golden said dryly, channeling his inner James Bond. However, he fell silent as Sifka took his mammoth reindeer meatballs into her gasping mouth, as her gills frantically searched for oxygen. The mother of all mermaids soon found the river of manna that was flowing from Freya Lokisdotter's momentarily neglected left gazonga. Freya's milk soon poured down to Sifka's grasping mouth and flowed through her gills. The mouth of the suddenly-perked-up mother of all fish began to open and close on Golden's balls, even as Watusi gave his Gungir some two-fisted love (to borrow a phrase from the late, but not forgotten, singer Phoebe Snow). Watusi's sizable arm muscles contracted around Golden's ribcage, almost threatening to crush it as she continued to pump his Gungir with complete abandon. Golden felt trapped and powerless, pretty much as he had when the Wallowing Hogs' 450-pound defensive end, Big Daddy 'Grizzly' Einhorn gave him a congenial bear hug after sacking him in last year's Homecoming game, diving the wind out of Golden's body for at least two hours. Under today's wimpy, mollycoddling medical standards, Golden had not been allowed to take another snap until the game against the Raging Rhinoceroses a couple of weeks later. In Golden's mind, college football had turned into goddamn day care center for sissies. Same thing for the pros. Hell, Golden had had his bell rung over 14 times in junior high ball alone, without any after effects at all, unless you count his inability to grasp the elementary principles of Diffeomorphic Transformations. And even that had been cleared up though some delightful sexual gymnastics with the erotic and seemingly multiracial and multicultural tutor Kayoko Lokisdottir.

He fondly remembered how Kyle 'Tree' Younger, his elementary school parent-coach, had taught him to take a helmet-to-helmet spearing like a man, without suffering any negative effects, at least none that he could remember.

Speaking of helmets, Cousin Watusi began to rub the strong ebony fingers of her left hand over the helmet of Golden's pulsating Gungir, lubricating it with its own precum, and driving the Screaming Beavers' field general into a sexual frenzy. At the same time, she continued to squeeze his shaft in the vise of her right hand, which she pumped rhythmically while Shifka, our resident mermaid and mother of all fishes, gulped his balls with her desperately-sucking oxygen-starved mouth. In the end, this foreplay proved too much for our flaxen-haired hero, and Golden shot his seed clear across the room with the force and volume of high-pressure fire hose.

Immediately, the other members of Kayoko's extended family rushed forward to lick Golden's elixir off the oaken wall. Several fistfights broke out, reminding Golden of the families who celebrated the birth of the Lord of Peace, by coldcocking one another and dislocating one another's principal joints in the toy departments of Meijer's and Walmart on Black Friday.

"Ok girls, you've had your fun," Shifka said. "Now it's my turn. Step aside. I am going to fuck the living daylights out of him."

Golden considered the plausibility of this promised feat with some skepticism, as the mermaid was all fish from the waist down, devoid of any visible apertures. Plus, there was the greater problem that mermaids do not exist. Also, if they do, they must suffer though wicked constipation, overstretched and bursting bladders, acid reflux and physically-enforced celibacy.

He suddenly felt the warmth of Freya's liquid manna as it coursed throughout his body and brain, showing him hidden, uncharted streams of reality that he had never suspected existed. Was he hallucinating or was there actually a mermaid before him, her blond hair floating as if in water, ready to fuck him despite the topological impossibility of such an act?

"No offense ma'am, but you are missing some crucial orifices. I don't rightly see you we could pull such an act off," Golden told the fish matriarch. "Hell, how do you manage your basic excretion needs? I would hate to see your Ex-lax and Cialis bills!"

"There are many things you cannot see if you refuse to look at them, my blond pseudo-marauder," Shifka said, brushing back a lock of Golden's hair. "Behold the power of my roe!"

With that, Shifka spread her eggs upon the pseudo-water of the air, egesting them in a fractal cloud of mucus that was the most beautiful thing that Golden had ever seen. Its fragrance was otherworldly and he was drawn to it by a compelling force that he could not conceivably resist.

His throbbing Gungir grew to an unprecedented length. He felt as though an invisible hand was pumping it at maximum velocity, and he sprayed his hot seed all over the beauty of Shifka's delightful roe. It was the greatest pleasure he had ever known. 

"Cigarette?" Shifka asked him.

Golden searched his naked chest for a lighter. "No, thanks, I'm cool," he told his demi-piscatorial lover.

"You know what they say, Viking, once you've gone fish, it's your only dish."

"That so?"

"But what about me?" Shifka whined. "I've still never been fucked ape-style by a human, not to mention bonobo-style. Word's out that they are the horniest and most polymorphous perverse of the great apes, and, like Frank Booth in Blue Velvet, will fuck anything that moves."

"You've got that right," Golden said. "But I don't see any bonobos around here."

"Honey, I'm looking right at one. You are a member of the great ape family, aren't you? I know you've got the equipment. I'm looking right at it. So hello, hey Joe, want to give it a go? Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da. Gitchi, gitchi ya ya..." 

"I surely would like to ride you, ma'am. I reckon I owe you one. But I still don't see how to hump a mermaid."

Shifka lay down on the floor. "You ever heard of the mermaid mambo, warrior?'

Golden shook his head. "How about the Neptune choo-choo?" 

Ditto.

"The Ali shuffle? The bathyspheric boogaloo? The seaweed shimmy?" Golden shook his head.

"Well, climb on top of me and you will master all of these steps and more," the siren of the waters said, beckoning Golden to lie upon the proffered bed of her body.

Golden did just that. He grabbed Shifka's hands, interlacing her fingers with his and spreading the mermaid's arms as his naked body and throbbing johnson approached touchdown on the delightfully undulating abdomen and upper tail of his mermaid goddess, inventor of the hula and all forms of belly-dancing. He placed his mouth over hers to blow much-needed oxygen into her gasping lungs. She held on to him for dear life and began to writhe beneath him.

Her cornsilk hair began to float again, as if she were back in her primal element once more. Golden too could feel the sea surrounding them. He felt joy at her resurrection. She reached out with her arms and enfolded Golden in the waves of her belly and the waves of the sea. No longer was he lying in a perverted ashram on the peak of an Adirondack mountain. He felt a oneness with all things, unseparated from the Ocean of Being that Shifka's body was revealing to him. Shakira had it right all along. Hips don't lie. Neither do fins.

The waves of her body were with one with tides and swells of the virtual ocean that surrounded them, the ocean that gave them life, the ocean that sustained their being, before its waves broke upon the cruel rocks of the shore, where they were all cast into rebirth.

Golden's body began to flow over, around, and through the illusory body of his mermaid Beatrice, revealer of worlds upon worlds and souls brushing souls, until they were ripped from their Divine Union and hurled into the far reaches of space and time toward a distant rendezvous within the mouth of the Eater of all Things, only to be reborn in each other's arms once again.

Golden's being was inside the mermaid's body in every sense, despite the absence of the requisite orifices, which offered only a grasp at reality rather than becoming one with it. This must be the All Mind that Kayoko had told him about.

As their bodies achieved higher and higher rates of vibration and interpenetration, Golden exploded within his beloved demifish and they held each other tightly as they reentered the cold world that had spawned them.

THE HARDEST-WORKING MAN IN VALHALLA

As he floated upon the false virtual ocean, Golden heard a chant breaking out: " Afi, Afi, Afi.." 

He looked at the large doors separating the mistletoe-laden erotic emporium from the more sedate living quarters of the acolytes. These portals burst open, and a group of cowled figures ushered in a man who seemed barely able to walk, much like somebody's Lord, whose name escaped him, carrying his cross to his own crucifixion, or maybe even the great Rocky Balboa himself, as he appeared just after the end of the fifteenth round in Rocky LXXV. 

Again the chant resumed: "Afi, Afi, Afi.."

The Afikomen collapsed onto the floor, much like James Brown, the Hardest-Working Man In Show Business, at the false end of one of his concerts with the Famous Flames. They Flames always threw a golden robe over the collapsed Godfather of Soul, who seemed to recover instantly from his near death experience as rushed back to the microphone at great speed. 

Similarly, one of the cowled figures threw a golden robe over the shoulders of the Avikomen, and the chant began again: "Afi, Afi, Afi..."

The Afikomen stood and threw off the robe to reveal a spinal-column-sized boner.

The chant then became more rhythmic, more like chugging of a choo-choo train: "Afikomen, Afikomen, Afikomen..."

The Afikomen then entered the MMA cage, which strangely was a hexagon rather then the traditional octagon. He climbed up the chain fence, and pointed directly at Golden, and said, channeling either Muhammad Ali or Apollo Creed, "I want you, Odinsson. You ain't nothin' but a pussy, a Screaming Beaver. You want the truth. This here's the truth," he said pointing at his engorged member, which well might constitute a credible start on the space elevator first proposed in 1895 by Russian scientist Konstantin Tsiolkovsky and later championed by Arthur C. Clark and others. He cupped his balls and said, "You can't handle the truth. You ain't ready for this jelly."

If only it were jelly, Golden could surely handle it. However it was a good two feet of solid man meat, and Golden figured that no matter which orifice the Afikomen selected, the business end of his schwantz was going to be exiting his body either through Golden's skull and brains or, less appealingly, through his large colon. 

The naked women (was there any other kind?) of the Black Lotus rushed forward to grab Golden Arm's golden arms. In no time they slapped cuffs on him and marched him to altar hastily being set up inside the hexagon. "Careful with my wrists," he told them, "if you want the Screaming Beavers to have any chance of winning the Ugli Fruit Bowl this year."

Heedless of his words, they bent him over the two-by-four that served as the main body of the altar. His virgin Aryan ass was now exposed for all and sundry to see. They spread his legs and chained his ankles to rings conveniently provided at each end of another two-by-four. His legs were now widely spread and his ass raised, to provide easy access for a certain Afikomen he could name if only he knew what his name was.

Meanwhile, the Afikomen's mouth began to salivate at the prospect of driving his two-foot pike right up Golden's wazoo and out his mouth, even though said mouth was not directly involved in the upcoming festivities.

Two buxom redheads entered the hexagon, and Golden felt a wetness on his ass and crack as they began painting a bulls-eye around Wastewater's star QB's anus.

The Afikomen rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Olly olly oxen free," he called out. "ready or not, here I cum." 

Through Golden's partial emergence in the Black Lotus All-Mind, he became aware of a technical loophole. "In accordance with Vulcan Law, I demand the right to name my own champion."

"I think you are confusing the Vulcan state of Pon Farr with a human assfucking," the Afikomen said.

An excited murmuring filled the air. "Yeah," one voice said. "It would really be cool to have a little MMA to go along with a good cornholing."

"Yeah, Yeah," the throng exclaimed, many of them raising pitchforks and torches that they seemed to have plucked out of thin air. 

The Afikomen sneered at Golden. "Is there any one of you willing to serve as the champion for this vile, pathetic creature?"

A lone figure stepped into the circle of light surrounding the hexagon: Kayoko. "I will serve as his champion," she stated, her slim body drawing laughs and catcalls from the assembled multitude.

The Afikomen chuckled. "And how would you accomplish this, you pathetic little girl?"

"I will serve as his Straw," she said.

The crowd became silent. To serve as the Straw for the Afikomen was the greatest sacrifice a Black Lotus acolyte could make.

"Oh, you foolish little girl. My mighty scepter will tear you apart," the Afikomen snickered, looking down at his two-footer, as if to make sure it was still there.

"What scepter?" Kayoko asked. "Oh, you mean that little thing. It's hardly noticeable."

The Afikomen stood in rage. "OK, you little cunt, I am going to enjoy breaking your pathetic little body into pieces. Assume the position, and I will send you back into the foul void from which you came."

They brought out a few more two-by-fours, and quickly bound Kayoko in the same posture as Golden, save that they left her hands free. Of course, to ensure that the Afikomen's seed be injected into Golden's alimentary canal, Kayoko carefully placed her mouth over Golden's virgin anus. The paint guys then drew a target around Kayoko's anus. She would have preferred that the Afikomen batter his way into her cooz, which was easily wide enough for two-lane and even three-lane traffic. However, she knew that entrance led only up to her womb. While she was sure that Afikomen could rupture enough organs to gain entrance to her higher alimentary canal, this would be a very inelegant approach to Afikomen husbandry. That's why she had opted for the direct approach. 

The chanting built up again: "Afikomen, Afikomen, Afikomen...:

The holder of this prestigious title gave his two-footer a couple of strokes to bring it to maximum length. Satisfied with the result, he cried out, "I will break you, you presumptuous little wench."

He took off from a three-point stance and ran straight at her, just like an Olympic javelin chucker. He buried himself in her quivering flesh to a depth of 14 inches.

So far so good, Kayoko thought. I can handle this.

Then, the Afikomen drew back, switched tunnels, and shoved about a foot's worth of his hot meat into her delicate nether hole. His tool throbbing with hot desperation, he hauled off and rammed it a good foot and a half into Kayoko's hopelessly bound flesh. No one had ever been this deep before, and Kayoko was beginning to doubt that she would be able to fulfill her duties as Golden's Straw.

Then Kayoko remembered her training in Tibetan Tantric Wiccan sadomasochism. Just as the lama was able to reverse time to ingest turds through reversing peristaltic contractions and then ralph up a perfect hot Christmas dinner, she herself could manipulate space and time in order to reduce the length of the Afikomen's shlong. Specifically, she could speed up the oscillations of his two-footer within her multipurpose digestive tract. She knew that she needed to crank up its speed to 94% of the speed of light and its length would be reduced to a mere eight inches, because of the Lorentz contraction of special relativity. Of course, the walls of her cooz might get a little cock-burned at that speed, but that was a small price to pay for Golden's life (not to mention her own).

Then just like his idol James Brown, the Afikomen broke into a cold sweat, he was a sex machine, and he had a brand new bag. Gonna pop it soon. He grabbed Kayoko's shoulders as he pounded his way in and out of her tortured rectum. He grabbed onto her hair and pulled her head straight up as he brutalized her body.

Kayoko reached under him, and grabbed ahold of Golden's cojones as the Afikomen continued to pound her into submission. She wanted to soothe Golden through the dark event to come. She placed her mouth over his cornhole, as she could feel the Afikomen breaking her apart.

The Afikomen could feel his fire rising. He grabbed onto the sacrifice's amazing tits, crushing them in his massive mitts as his lava surged within him. Suddenly, the dam burst and he came in Kayoko's ass like a high pressure fire hose. Kayoko's contractile skills brought the Afikomen's spume up into her colon, through her stomach, up her esophagus and into her mouth. It burned as she spewed it into Golden's colon, grabbing the faux Viking's balls tightly in her sexual frenzy. She continued to pump his shaft hard and was rewarded by an explosion of hot jizz that soon adorned the far wall like a Jackson Pollack masterpiece.

Golden now carried the seed of the Afikomen within him. Against all odds, they had succeeded and lived to tell the tale.

Kayoko's digestive tract had a lot more tricks up its metaphorical (and literal) sleeve than reverse peristalsis. She quickly formed the anal dentata, a nether mouth with razor sharp teeth (much like the vagina dentate, which she also sported, in case the situation got particularly dicey). Her razor sharp fangs waited like a moray eel for its entranced prey to enter its mouth, its prey being the Afikomen's presumptuous cock. In this case, no waiting was required, and her rearmost fangs chomped down hard on the Afikomen's proferred cheroot.

The Afikomen sprang back and pushed himself away from Kayoko's ass. He looked down at his ruined crotch and exclaimed, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it. Where's my scepter? Where's my masterpiece? Oh, lordy, sweet lordy, what has become of me, thy faithful servant? Why hast thou forsaken me?"

"Oh my god, omigod, omigod," the assembled crowd sang when the Afikomen turned to them, revealing the full extent of his injury. He collapsed on the floor of the hexagon. His body spun, shooting his blood in all directions, much like a kid's party balloon writhing on the floor with the air rushing out of its nozzle.

"What's we gonna do? What's we gonna do?" the multitude of onlookers asked in unison.

With his last dying breath, the Afikomen turned to his subjects and said, "Do not fear, my children. Ah have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

Just then, Kayoko broke wind with a 100 mile-an-hour breeze, shooting the Afikomen's sacred, albeit detached, member out of her anus out onto the middle of the hexagon's canvas floor. It had detumesced somewhat, but seemed to take heart from crowd's concern and miraculously quickly grew back to its normal two-foot length (all this without the benefit of a circulatory system to pump blood into the Afikomen's severed schlong).