1 comments/ 4690 views/ 7 favorites Supernatural Stories Ch. 01 By: crow_girl21 This is part one in what will hopefully be a series that encompasses mythological creatures of all sexes from all eras and areas of the world. I hope you enjoy! ***** The sky was a turbulent grey over the battlefield. The clouds had descended not long before the warring had begun. They rumbled and roared as sword clashed against sword and cold metal bit into warm flesh. Aiden's sword was stained red, his bared skin and his leather armor was spattered and flecked with it. The wind howled through the valley below, keening like a woman's wail. Aiden knew that there would be over much of those wails when he and his men returned to the encampment triumphant tonight. He grinned in anticipation as the metal of his sword fell another warrior. These one-god-worshipers were poor fighters. Their fear clung to them like a second skin. A few had even fled before encountering Aiden's men. It was cowardly, weak. "Oh, God!" It was a cry that ended on a gurgle as Aiden's sword came flashing down. Blood splattered, striking his face. Another glance into the valley below had him pumping his sword and shield toward the sky in triumph. "Victory is our's! Victory for Valhalla!" Aiden's bellow rang out over the valley and hills as the very last of the enemy was vanquished. His men's answering cries rivaled that of the thunder that crescendoed. Uncannily bright lightning struck before Aiden. The spear of light emitted a deafening crack and Aiden twisted away, elbow drawn up to cover his ear. His eyes saw stars for a moment as his ears rang. When he turned back, he beheld a creature of the most enrapturing beauty. A woman with skin the color of freshly fallen snow stood before him. Her cheeks were high and flushed the same pink as her lips. Long blonde hair the color of the autumn moon waved to her waist, twisted into plaits around her delicately pointed ears. Her eyes shone a brilliant silver. She was beautiful, exquisite, really. Her body bore the most mouth-watering curves. A good deal of her body was bare to the cool storm winds. A long sapphire cloth hid her womanhood, clasped at the hips by a belt of white furs and silver. The same adorned her shoulders and draped down her back. Deep blue spirals and glyphs were painted over her bared skin. The markings drew the eyes unerringly toward her breasts and hips. A battle-ax was strapped to her back. There was a great murmuring from the ranks below. In an expanding ripple, every man knelt, head bowed unto the woman. Aiden's forehead touched the cool earth. Even over the scent of it, he could still smell her. She smelled of rain and of the storm from whence she had been born. "My lady Valkyrie," Aiden spoke. The Valkyrie's warm, soft fingers tucked beneath his jaw and raised his face. After a moment's study, she released her hold and straightened. Aiden silently bemoaned the loss of her touch. "Arise, warriors of Odin." Her voice was like the thunder. It echoed over the land and held the attention of every man. "You have emerged victorious this day. Go now and celebrate. Know that you have curried the favor of the gods this day." Cheers and cries rose at her words. The Valkyrie's eyes flashed silver again and her lips lifted in a smile. She turned to Aiden once more and when she smiled again, it held a different edge. Aiden swallowed and bowed his head in acknowledgment of her godliness. "I am pleased to be of service to the gods." Her small hand stroked his blood-flecked arm above his bracers. "But would you be pleased to be of service to a Valkyrie?" "I would for one such as you, my lady. Your beauty is like that of your lightning. Bright and dazzling." Her laughter was like music. "Your words are pretty, Aiden the Bear, but I did not come to have my ego stroked." "Then what did you come for, my lady?" The Valkyrie smiled again. "You men are always so daft. Come, take me unto your tent." Aiden took her slim arm when she proffered it. Her breasts swayed as they descended the hill. He shook his head to clear it. "May I ask your name, beautiful one?" "I am called Sassa." The Valkyrie's fingers tangled with his as they neared the encampment. Divine beauty, it was certainly a most fitting name for this creature. Born of a mortal warrior woman who screamed for courage as she died on the field of battle, Valkries were created by Odin and Freya's power in the form of lightning. They were shield maidens, escorting those bravest and most skilled warriors to Valhalla when they had fallen in battle. Valkyries were said to be the fairest creatures the gods had ever created. Aiden already believed it. The fires burned high, sparks shooting high into the sky. Boisterous, baudy songs carried over the wind on deep, masculine voices. The higher-pitched squeals, moans, and cries of women interspersed the bass and tenors of the men. "Please excuse my men, my lady Valkyrie-" Aiden began, shoving aside the flap of his tent. The fair-haired Valkyrie dipped inside, waving her hand through the air. "I have heard, smelled, seen worse than warriors celebrating a victory. I help bring the fallen warriors to Valhalla. And call me Sassa." "Sassa. Yes. I do imagine that you have." Aiden shook his head at himself. She stepped in close and began working the ties of his leather armor. Within a heartbeat, the protective pieces were in a heap by the entrance. He stood in naught but his trews and boots. A bowl of water had been warming by the brazier, steam curled off of the surface as she set it on the furs that served as his bed. Sassa straightened and removed her belt, cape, and that tempting loincloth. Her boots were kicked away and she stood before him in only those blue tattoos. His heart thundered in his chest as her hands began unlacing his trews. When they gaped open, Sassa took his hand and led him to the furs. With a push, his back met the soft carpet they provided. She pulled his boots off, one, then the other before she began tugging his trews off. Want had his blood simmering in his veins. "Sassa, what do you mean to do?" Aiden was hoping, praying really, that his wildest dreams were about to be fulfilled. She soaked a cloth in the heated water and came over him, straddling his hips. Her bare curves rubbed over his already hardening shaft. Her curls were dampened as they brushed over his skin. His hips bucked once before he got a grip on himself. Sassa smiled and ran the wet cloth over his face. "You've warred long and hard in my father's name." The cloth swiped over his chest. "In the gods' names." Over his arms. "Many a man has done the same," Aiden bit out. "Many a man are not like you." The cloth dipped to his belly. Sassa spoke again. "Your bravery, cunning, and skills have earned you ohalla." Aiden jerked beneath her ministrations. "Truly? I had long lost count of my battles. I thought myself far away from one thousand won." "There. The very fact that you cared more about your men, honor, and honoring the gods has helped curry favor. You are blessed by the gods." Aiden groaned. Her hand had replaced the cloth and was stroking over his length. "You shall have immortality." Her mouth came down on his. She tasted divine. She suckled his tongue so sweetly. That slim hand continued to slide up and down his length. Sassa broke away, her silvery eyes at half-mast and her lips reddened by his kiss. "A beserker for eternity." Her mouth traveled down, tongue flattening over his nipple. His hand found her bottom and gave it an appreciative squeeze. Once more she kissed down, down. She stopped with her mouth just over his shaft. Her breath gusted over it, hot and teasing. "You'll have me." With that, she enveloped him. Aiden gave a loud, harsh groan as she suckled him. She was merciless, following his every buck and licking up everything he gave her. She rose over him, piling her hair atop her head. The action lifted her breasts, the blue markings rode over her shoulders, ribs, and traced the dimple of her navel before framing her mound and lining her thighs. Her sex rubbed over his shaft with every rotation of her hips. Her high cheeks were flushed and her teeth flashed white in the firelight as she nibbled her lower lip. One of her hands eased out of her hair to cup a breast. She plucked at her own nipple, emitting a low moan. The sight and sound was too much. Aiden was on her like a starved man on a feast. His mouth crushed down on Sassa's and their tongues wound around the other's. Her skin tasted just as indescribable as her mouth. Aiden kneaded her breasts as he sampled the column of her throat. "Aiden," His name on her lips had his length twitching. Sassa arched her back, nipples thrusting upward in offering. "Please." Aiden obliged, wrapping his lips around one pouting pink peak and pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger. His spare hand wandered over her soft belly and dipped down into the fine curls that guarded her most secret parts. She was soaking, his fingers slipped into her easily. The very realization had him raring. Aiden gave her breasts one last suck and pulled her across the furs so that their hips aligned. Her thighs spread around him and her hands slipped up his arms to his shoulders. The head of his shaft prodded her entrance before her folds parted so sweetly for him. Sassa pulled him down so that their bodies rubbed in the most delicious way as he rode her. Her nipples brushed over his with every thrust. His sweat slicked skin left its sheen on hers. She was tight and hot and felt so good. It was as if she'd been made for this, for him. Her nails scored down his back and dug into his ass. The sensation drove him over the edge. Her cry as she clamped down on him made his ears ring. Then his own orgasm had him seeing stars. Aiden collapsed, rolling so that he didn't inadvertently crush her. Sassa lay draped over his chest, one hand over his heart, fingers tracing circles around his nipple. Her thigh was over his, her sex rubbed over the muscles there. Her blonde hair was damp and stuck to their skin wherever it touched. She looked like a goddess of pleasure with that smile on her lips. Aiden coaxed her up so he could sip at her mouth again. The simple act of kissing her had his length stirring again. He glanced down in surprise. Sassa grinned, hand slipping down his belly. "Immortals possess the largest of appetites. Perhaps we should see just how large yours' is." Supernatural Stories Ch. 02 The sands burned beneath Kato's bare feet. His mouth was as dry as the earth around him, his eyes were stuck in a near-permanent squint. It was all he could do to continue to shuffle forward. The days passed like this. In the night, he dared not rest too long. The beasts of the desert cried out in the darkness. He had lost count of the scorpions that he had found scurrying over his prone body. The sharp pricks of their legs on his sunburned skin often woke him out of his sleep. This was Kato's punishment; to wander the burning sands and brave the hungry creatures that lived upon and within them. All this for stealing from one of his master's wives. If his master had had his way, Kato would have merely lost one of his hands. But the wives had had enough of Kato's stealing. In truth, that was the first and only time Kato had stolen anything. He'd hoped to gain the attention of the daughter of the lighthouse keeper. She had been a pretty thing, with large almond eyes and lips that looked like they would taste like honey. The gods had seen fit to punish Kato for not only his own crimes, but those the other servants and slaves had committed. And so he had been cast out into the desert with naught but the cloth about his hips. The sun had since risen high in the sky and Kato swore that he could feel the very blood in his veins beginning to boil. He paused suddenly, squinting into mid-distance and shielding his eyes with one hand. There was...something in the distance. A smudge like dark smoke. Perhaps he had reached the other sea? Kato's scorched feet carried him towards the odd horizon. As he grew closer, he realized that it had not been some bizarre smoke or the sea. Large, towering cliffs the color of mud rose from the sands. He stumbled through their shadows, grateful for their shelter. His skin cooled a fraction, but his mind was fogged with the need for water. It could have been seconds or minutes, hours, maybe days later that Kato's legs finally crumpled beneath him. His face landed in something cool. Moisture seeped into his cheek and wetted his lashes. Moisture. The word rang like a bell in his mind. His fingertips burrowed into something soft and squelchy as he attempted to lever himself up. Mud. And mud meant- Water glinted in the sunlight, sparkling like the jewels he had tried to steal. Slowly, painfully, Kato dragged his aching body through the mud and thick reeds. He did not stop at the edge of the water, but continued until he rolled over the bank. He gulped until his belly swelled and it hurt. He scrubbed his shaking hands over his skin and through his hair. Grit and blood, sweat and sand clouded the water around him. It was only after long moments in the water that he remembered the tales of crocodiles the other slaves had told him. It took him several clumsy tries before he managed to raise himself from the bank. Kato laid himself out on the sunny bank and listened to the wind rustling through the reeds. The layers of grit, sweat, and blood had caked his flesh and prevented any harsher burns from the sun. There, beside his salvation, Kato slipped into the first peaceful sleep he'd had since being cast out. Something sharp prodded at Kato's belly and throat. He flinched as something warm and soft brushed over his face. The sun blinded him until a dark shadow blotted out the golden light. It was a...woman. A group of them, Kato realized, craning his neck around. Their voices were hushed. Some of their words were foreign to him. Their bodies were bare save for loincloths that swayed between their thighs in the breeze. White and black markings adorned their faces, chests, hips, and legs. Dark hair was plaited away from their angled faces and was wound with beads of what appeared to be bone. Kato rose to his elbows. The sharp objects were withdrawn. They had been spears, he noted. Long wooden staffs with wicked-looking tips. Feathers and bits of hide were wrapped round the heads. Slowly, Kato stood. His own clothing had been lost to the river from which he'd bathed. His body was bared to their curious eyes. Being a man in the company of comely women, he was already partly aroused. He made no move to cover himself, though. He had no desire to feel one of those spears poking at him again. One of the women stepped forward. A long, slender scar ran the length of her cheek. "Come." It was a command that left no room for argument. Kato nodded and followed after her. The remaining women came after them. His own footsteps were loud in the quietness of the field of reeds. Ahead, palms arose, silhouetted black against the blue sky. Cattle grazed atop a plateau covered in waving grasses. What appeared to be tent-like huts covered with large flaps of dark skins hid among the palms, grasses, and reeds. They entered a cleared area. The earth was bare here, trampled into a flat circle of brown. A tall, sturdy looking pole stood at the very center. The woman with the scar halted and held up her hand. "You will wait here." She strode forward briskly, hips swaying. She disappeared into one of the larger huts. Kato could feel the eyes of the other women on him. The feeling had the hairs on his body standing on end. They remained silent and in that quietness, Kato could hear the faint footsteps and voices of others in the huts and among the reeds. Kato cast around for a distraction. His eye was unerringly drawn back to that tall pole no matter where he glanced. Lighter marks marred the dark wood in irregular stripes. Just then, a loud sound cause him to startle. On the cliff above them, a woman had her lips on the mouth of a great cattle horn. The sound echoed for a long moment before she repeated the call twice more. Woman of all shapes and sizes began to emerge from the borders of the grasses. Some wore the same loincloths as the ones before had, while others were gloriously naked. Only a few bore the white and black stripes across their skin. They gathered round the edges of the circle, dark eyes wide. The flaps of the hut flew open and the scarred woman emerged behind a tall, beautiful woman. Her eyes were lined with dark paint, thin white stripes slashed over her cheeks and chin. Thicker lines followed the curves of her bared breasts and waist, dipping down below her hips to wind around her thighs. Two bovine skulls perched atop her shoulders like a mockery of armor. Another hid her womanhood as it hung from a belt of claws, teeth, and beads about her hips. Her hair was black as ebony and was plaited close to her scalp on one side, clasped in a high tail at the back of her head. Shards of bone pierced her ears. Her lips were painted black. She strode towards him, belt of bone rattling. "Welcome, Kato, to Mizarimi. I am Meklit Hiwot, ruler of our people." "How do you know my name?" Meklit Hiwot's face raised to the sky for a moment. "The gods speak to me, Kato. It is they who told me of your coming. They have gifted us greatly this day." The dark woman stepped forward. "Our people have gone too long without the pleasures of the flesh a man can bring. The gods sent you unto us so that you may give unto them this pleasure." Kato stumbled back. "I can assure you. No gods sent me." The very air seemed to hum with energy and hunger. Was it his imagination or were the women getting closer with every breath? "But they have, Kato. Step forward and receive the holy bonds." The scarred woman reverently placed coils of pale white rope into Meklit Hiwot's open palms. Kato whirled. He had been a slave once. He had no desire to be so again. But strong hands trapped him and he was dragged to the tall pole. The sounds of stone on wood echoed as stakes were hammered into the earth at his sides. Meklit Hiwot wound the ropes round his wrists and cinched his arms high over his head. No matter how hard he tugged, the ropes would not give. Hands ceased his ankles and drew his legs wide apart. The rope that bound his hands now secured his ankles to the stakes. Meklit Hiwot was handed a bowl into which she dipped her fingers. "Part your lips, Kato." When he refused to do as he was bidden, his jaw was wrenched open by the women. Meklit Hiwot's fingers stroked over his tongue, coated in a sickly sweet stickiness. His throat was stroked, causing him to swallow. Heat licked over and through his body as Meklit Hiwot's fingers dragged that sticky syrup over his chest and down his belly. His hips bucked as she coated his shaft and sac in it before rubbing it between his cheeks to the hidden hole there. Her finger dove inside without resistance and Kato briefly expected to feel pain. But none came, instead, a hot pleasure shot through him. And then, like some shield had been lifted, the women fell upon him. Dozens of hands ran over his skin, mouths moved over him. He became a creature that's sole purpose was to receive pleasure. Breasts brushed over his thighs as mouths and lips and tongues explored him. He lost count of how many fingers probed his ass. He lost count of how many times he erupted into mouths, hands, and sexes. Night fell and still they devoured him. He was no longer merely Kato. He was certainly gifted by the gods to experience such pleasure. He had to be to continue producing orgasms like this. At dawn's first light, only one set of hands wandered over his flesh. His shaft was surrounded by a hot channel that immediately began milking him. He was helpless not to give into its demands. With one last brutal yell, he came. Meklit Hiwot stepped back, black lip paint smudged and his pleasure trickling down her thighs. The sun broke over the horizon, turning the sky gold and red. Meklit Hiwot raised her hands and began to sing. The voices of the women rose as one, blending into an enrapturing chant. The ropes that bound him were loosened. Kato's arms fell to his sides and he slumped into the women's bodies. "Behold our new father, for he shall give unto us new daughters!He bears the sacred holy marks! Hail the father!" Meklit Hiwot knelt before Kato, beads clicking softly. Kato glanced down at himself. His shaft was still hard. Across his wrists and ankles, bright white stripes had appeared. So bright it was almost as if the ropes themselves had seared into his flesh. "Hail!" Came the answering shouts.