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The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 01

By: BlueMuffin



Author's Note: This is a story of a man pulled from our world into one filled with wolf people, elves, orcs, lizard people, horse people etc.

The first chapter focuses on the wolf people, as well as introducing our protagonist, antagonist and the first love interest. It primarily shows off their motivations and personalities and sets up the skeleton of the internal mythology of the world. It also contains a good deal of non-consensual sex, some light SM, a little POV swapping and a great deal of non-human action. I have always believed that with erotica the plot is what gives the sex impact, and I hope my story shows it. Anyway I hope you like it, and please give me your opinions and advice at the end.

P.S. If you're turned off by the initial love interest having an attraction to a character that's NOT just the protagonist, I would look elsewhere.

Steven Smith had a problem. A problem that was suspended at a guess about 3 inches above his right eye and maybe half an inch to the left, it also seemed to him to look remarkably like the tip of a spear. Although with the sun in his eyes, it was difficult to confirm the legitimacy of this unlikely claim. The fact that Steve's eyes had not yet become accustomed to their return to the world of daylight was forcing Steve to keep blinking in an attempt to avoid more obnoxious red streaks being seared across his retina. All in all, his environment was not aiding him in identification. The twenty one year old data entry clerk sighed internally.

The fact that this seemingly sharp object on a long stick in front of him, was in fact a spear tip refused to register with him on an emotional level. Spear tips, by and large, were not something he had been expecting to encounter in his day to day living. He had been raised in a middle class family, in a peaceful suburban home, in the middle of Leicester. Spear tips were just not naturally native to that environment. His mind quickly dismissed the object as unlikely to be a spear. Steve's mind immediately began seeking out an alternative, and more familiar answer to what this mystery object was. One that preferably did not have a high chance of him wearing an eye patch for the rest of his days. Or worse.

Thinking back, his subconscious mind sifted his through his accumulated knowledge. It honed in on similar experiences of having objects waved in front of his face immediately upon waking in a lying down position, with the distinct feeling of grass on his back, sun on his front and a painful throbbing sensation on his forehead.

The only thing that came to mind was the time when, in the middle of a football game at his local high school, he had been kicked in the head by, what was according to a third party "a flawless roundhouse kick by Sean Mathews".

The upcoming ace of the school football team and general all round prick, with a chip on his shoulder. The head-kicking had occurred when Steve's attempts at head-butting the airborne ball had been countered by the sudden arrival of Sean's foot. An accident that to a more naïve mind could have put down to youthful exuberance and enthusiasm for the game. In Steve's mind it was likely the result of Steve having been subtly flirting with Sean's girlfriend during a party a week or so back. An act that while worthy of some irritation, was hardly a great reason to unsubtly kick someone's head in.

The resulting blow rendered Steve dazed, likely concussed and flat on his back. A state that eventually caused him to be dragged off the pitch by his less than impressed teammates, when it became apparent that Steve would not be continuing the game.

At an unknown point later on in the game, one of the nearby onlookers in a stroke of genius, decided that rather than call for medical aid, as any reasonable well-adjusted individual might do, decided that the best thing to do was poke Steve in the face with a stick until he regained consciousness. A move most medical professionals would advise against, and yet still stands as a time tested treatment, used by immature dipshits the world over. This moment was defining moment in highlighting to Steve a scarcity of common sense and compassion in the British public school system.

An important life lesson he took from this epiphany was this; someone else's pain, can and should be your profit.

Thus was born the Steve Smith that he was today. He had become well known by his graduation three years later, as a master of situational profiteering, expert evader of consequences, and 'that guy that beat the shit out of Sean Mathews, when he cornered him with his pants down in the C buildings toilets'.

Steve having now subconsciously found a prior occasion for this stick waving event, jerkily moved his hands forward, and generally in the direction of what he concluded must have been a large stick.

What he expected to happen was this. The offending object to be removed, with some stifled giggling at his expense. Much to his surprise, he found this was not the case, as he immediately felt a dull thud followed instantly by an intense pain in his stomach. A feeling that corresponded to being stomped on by someone's heel, eliciting a wheezy exhalation of air from him and a command of his full attention to his current circumstances. A surge of focus that before had been somewhat lacking due to his recent revival from unconsciousness. Never let it be said that waking up in an unknown location with partial amnesia was any excuse for inattention.

In reality he shouldn't have been too surprised by this turn of events. He himself having stomped on more than a few prone figures himself in the last few years. He might have laughed at the karma of the situation. If only laughing at the distinct possibility of serious organ damage weren't the actions of a silly git. More importantly the feeling that someone has just run you over with a small truck does not exactly do wonders for ones sense of humor.

The person in front of him had finally coalesced into a bleary dark and undeniably massive humanoid figure. Although most people look a lot larger when they are in a position to cause you serious harm.

The facial features of his assailant were still obscured by the sun high in the sky behind them. Steve subtly used his eyes to look down, using a barely perceptible tilt of the head, carefully avoiding the sharp object above his eye. He found the figure did indeed have a foot firmly placed on his stomach, in addition to the now confirmed spearhead hovering above his right eye. Yep, definitely a spear. This was definitely an escalation from the usual attacks on his persons. He took a quick moment to be depressed by the phrase 'usual attacks on his persons'.

Steve was not by and large a violent person. If a fight did start his usual reaction was to run. In the opposite direction. As fast as he could. To others this behavior was seen as cowardly. To Steve this behavior was seen as not fucking retarded. If Steve was ever the one responsible for violence, it was always on his own terms. His own terms being typically from behind, with a large easily swung blunt object. The fact that he would have to wait for his opponents to drop their guards and forget they were even in his bad books, meant that when he did finally get even, his target had no clue why. This made for a cycle of revenge that kept Steve's social interactions very interesting.

Steve closed his eyes again. Having discovered that hand simple gestures had failed him, and the fact that whoever was commanding his attention was not exactly a delicate soul. He decided that diplomacy was the next best option. He attempted to best voice his curiosity as to his current predicament, as well as his thoughts on his treatment, to whoever had awoken him. While still under the effects of what he was now sure was a somewhat serious concussion, this proved more difficult than he had originally hoped.

"Fupher, you ashat?"

Steve, in the few second it took for something to grip the front of his jacket, and with alarming strength lift him bodily off the ground, decided his diplomacy may have been ineffective.

The only bright side to his new position relative to his attacker, was that he could now begin make out their facial features without the sun in his eyes.

He reopened his eyes. Just in time to see a fluffy tan fist flying towards his face at an alarming speed. The speeding object successfully blocking out his vision of the rest of his attacker. Steve had just enough time to have one thought before it collided with his face, rocking his head back and causing him to sink back into the murky black depths of unconsciousness. "Those are some fucked up gloves..."

--------

The rhythmic light thudding was what awoke Steve the second time. A light thumping sound that was the result of the back of his head thumping against a wooden floor in time with a rhythmic rocking motion. He could feel a steady horizontal movement in addition to the rhythmic side to side shaking. He opened his eyes, and shot up into a sitting position. If someone was going to beat the shit out of him, he was going to at least remember their face so he could return the favor in the future.

He was sitting in a wooden cart with high sides, and an open back. The sort of cart that was used to transport hay bales in mediaeval movies. The front had a wall that was too high for him to see over and look at the driver from his sitting position.

Steve looked out the back of the cart to see the sun was still high in the sky. It was bathing light onto vast verdant green fields that went for miles in the direction of the rear of the cart. I he strained his eyes he could make out a forest that stood out as a wall of darker green reaching far into sky off in the distance. The cart was gradually moving away from the forest on a dirt road.

He also noticed that there was a dark tower of black smoke billowing from deep within the woods. Perhaps there was a fire in that direction? Or a coal mine? Did coal mines create smoke? Steve had to admit he had no clue, and decided to focus on what was immediately in front of him, as opposed to hypothetical smoking coal mines.

Steve might have taken another moment to be impressed by this breathtaking scenery, if his mind had not then immediately latched onto the idea that he had been kidnapped, and was in the process of being taken off into the countryside to be disposed of. Or worse.

He quickly ran a hand down his front. His clothes were fine. His white polo and work tie were still on, and his pants only had light scuffs on the knees. His usual jacket was notably missing though.

Steve took a deep breath to calm himself. A pragmatist does not panic, even in the face of the possibility of sexual assault by deviants with a fur fetish, that may exist in their immediate future. He took a quick sniff of his sleeve and discovered he smelled like smoke. Which meant they must have been in or around a fire recently. It was most probably the one he saw earlier. This only confused him more. Had his kidnapper set a fire to escape pursuit? Had Steve set the fire? Do coal mines smoke? Fuck it. His head hurt, he again focused on the problems immediately in front of him and tried to forget about coal mines. Unsuccessfully.

He did a quick check over his physical assets. Head. Sore, but roughly functional. Arms. Check. Legs. Check. He did a manual check of his genitals. With both hands. Some things were too important just give a cursory inspection, especially when it's entirely possible you have been kidnapped by a sexual deviant with a fetish for entirely average data entry clerks.

He rationalized that with his short brown hair and light blue eyes, he looked entirely average. Even with his lean, reasonably muscular build from regular football practice and gym trips, it seemed as far as possible targets for sexual deviants, with a fetish for horse drawn carts and open country sides went, him being the current choice for abduction was probably a statistical anomaly.

His body was intact. The next step was escape. Steve tried to stand, only to be jerked back down by a yank at his neck. He made a light tinkling sound as he fell on his ass.

A quick check with his hands found a leather collar attached to his neck, and a chain attaching that to the back of the cart, something he had missed in his earlier self-inspection. A fact he put down to the resulting of stress from a kidnapping and two blows to the head in as many hours.

Sitting down he decided to retrace his steps through his memory. He took a moment. Then another. The next moment was reserved for him to quietly curse under his breath.

He had nothing. Ok, maybe nothing was an exaggeration, but it felt appropriate compared to the amount of memories, he felt he was supposed to have. It felt like the last six months were a blur of unfocused memories, prior to being beaten up by an unseen assailant while lying in the sun.

He calmed himself. The information would comeback with time. That's what he hoped at least, but essentially he had no choice in the matter so he decided to stop worrying at it and focus on the immediate problem of kidnapping. Kidnapping by assumed sexual deviant with a fetish for horse drawn carts.

Taking further interest in his surroundings, he started to watch the scenery go passed. He wasn't going to break the chain or collar without tools, so he may as well conserve his energy and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

As the journey continued on he thought about how strange it was he was in a wooden cart. He could hear the clopping of hooves, so he knew it was a proper old fashioned cart. But why? Normally kidnappers were all white vans and tinted windows right? Even if it was one of his old enemies with a score to settle, they could have just used a car. Now that he thought about it, something else didn't make sense. The spear and the tan furry fist that had knocked him out. Had kidnappers gone on hard times, and been forced to rely on fluffy mittens and spears to capture people? Steve leaned back to rest his head. Thinking was hard.

Looking up contemplating his current circumstances, he stared off into the clear blue sky. Steve had a sneaking suspicion he was not in England anymore, the weather was too warm and sunny. Although considering the state of his memories it could have been the sunniest England had ever been for the last six months, and he wouldn't have a fucking clue. But on top of that, the air just didn't seem to smell right. To him proper British air had a dampness to it that persisted no matter what the actual weather was. He realized that this was hardly a scientific way of deciding where he was. None the less, the feeling of being away from home persisted.

Steve looked at the location of the sun to get a better sense of the time of day. It took him a moment to realize something was strange. It was a very long moment. High off in the sky completely indifferent to Steve's distress at the sight of them, sat two fiery orbs. Hanging lazily in the sky next to each other, one slightly was larger than the other. To say Steve's carefully arranged and somewhat delicate sense of calm disappeared would be an understatement. His mind was doing backflips.

Sometime, and a considerable amount of internal screaming later, he had decided on three possible reasons for these unknown celestial bodies. One, he had been knocked on the head worse than he thought. Two, he had been drugged. Three, he was no longer on earth. He hoped for option one, or perhaps even a combination of options one and two. The third option was not something a normal person would even be considering as a possibility. Steve however was a flexible soul, and more importantly he had read a lot of fantasy and sci-fi over the years. He knew the tropes. Even if he didn't want to seriously consider it, the possibility of him being moved to another planet stood unmoving in the back of his mind.

The thought of continuing to look at those two alien suns was making Steve stress out. He knew that choosing to ignore the two suns was not going to make them, or the implications of their existence go away, and that to doing so was tantamount to ignoring reality.

"Rationality can suck a fat one" He muttered bitterly "when something rational happens to me today, then maybe I'll listen to it".

Steve decided to go to sleep. Hopefully he would feel better after he had a sleep that wasn't induced by the possibility of brain damage. He also quietly subscribed to the hope that this was a dream. That seemed unlikely, the throbbing in his head felt all too real, and as a rule of thumb, if you felt like crap, it was probably reality.

He trusted his sense to wake him if there was a change in situation. It wasn't not like he could have stopped himself from passing out soon anyway, and if he was going to escape at some point he needed to be sharp and well rested.

--------

Steve was jolted awake. The cart had stopped, and he could feel the cool night air on his face. The scene was illuminated by a figure with a torch. He was standing on the end of the cart looming over him. Steve opened and closed his mouth like a fish, eyes gaping wide.

It was a fucking werewolf. The dark tan fur and heavy muscular build towered over him, a literal figure from fantasy, easily taller than a man. The creature was wearing only a light cream loincloth, assumedly made from the fur of some local animal. He was daubed in white paint that formed intricate swirling patterns all over his body.

A growl issued forth from the canine snout of the creature, the lips pulled back to reveal large canines and sharp teeth. It was a low guttural sound that made the hairs on Steve's neck stand up.

He knew it was a male. The large bulge that was barely hidden by the loin cloth confirmed that. He nearly yelped when it advanced on him. It reached for the collar at his throat, unlatching it and then unceremoniously putting a new one on. The new lock made a clicking sound that seemed obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet night air. The new collar was also leather, but attached to it was a new chain that was wrapped tightly around the free hand of the wolf.

While the werewolf moved into attach the collar, Steve had noticed silvery scars on its face and all over its body. More importantly it had some fresh wounds as well. They were for the most part just shallow cuts. Cleanly cut and individual spaced for the most part. They suggested sharp blades, rather than the wide furrows and the close grouping of claw marks. The only exception was on his collar bone, there it looked like something had something with a great many teeth had bitten him, but been unable to cause any serious damage. Looking around he saw many similar scars that spoke of other bites, almost all of which were around his neck.

The werewolf leapt off the cart with a resounding thump. Steve was pulled off the side of the cart along with it, hitting the floor with a light puff of dust and a not so light groan. He quickly noticed that the grasslands they had been traveling through had given way to light well tread dirt. His sarcastic inner monologue pointed out that maybe this was the reason for his rough treatment, maybe the wolf man wanted to show off his amazing dirt, in any case Steve was not particularly impressed.

It would seem the shock of seeing a real life werewolf had made him go a bit emotionally distant to his circumstances. He no longer felt as terrified as he felt he should be, hence the smart ass internal remarks. If his reaction to seeing a real life werewolf was incorrect, he was sure someone would at some point tell him the the correct reaction to 120 kilograms of pure teeth, fur and muscle, besides soiling himself. He was saving that for the moment he thought he was going to be eaten. It paid to plan ahead.


The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 01



Steve recognized that another attempt at diplomacy may not be the best course of action considering what happened last time. Looking at the hulking wolf man he had no intention of antagonizing his captor. That however did not stop him from spewing profanities at the wolf internally, it seemed that no matter the situation, his internal commentary refused to stop working.

"Maybe it's a nervous thing?" he mused to himself, before being roughly yanked forward as the wolf man started walking away. They were moving into a large grouping of structures that until now Steve had not noticed, so preoccupied had he been with mystical creatures and not so mystical dirt.

To either side of him Steve could see huts. The buildings seemed to be mostly made of brown canvas with yet more of the strange white tattoos that daubed the werewolf he was moving with. The whole camp was illuminated by torches, revealing row after row of brown huts. It was all kind of reminiscent of the Zulu war camps he had seen in that movie about the British Empire in Africa.

Steve briefly considered that perhaps the tattoos showed family groups. As each tent seemed to have different symbols of intricate detail. Assuming family groups camped together, this theory made sense.

The front flaps of the huts were beginning to open on either side, from which were emerging other Lupine forms. He quickly noted that his earlier guess seemed to be correct as the males, females and children that were pushing themselves out of the tents were all coated with roughly the same symbols between groups.

He quickly noticed that all the females over a certain height and thus assumedly a certain age, had chests supporting two massive breasts, standing firmly on their on their large chests. The fact that all of the fully grown females had such massive endowments made him wonder if they gave birth to much larger young than humans. Looking at the hulking males, this seemed to be the case. This theory was further reinforced by the wide child bearing hips that seemed even wider due to the lithe flat stomached frames that were typical of those he saw. The thought of a whole species with supermodel dimensions was somewhat arousing.

It would seem Steve's body cared little for the fact that they were covered in fur, an entirely different species from him, and possibly planning on eating him, instead focusing on the fact that they had impressive knockers. Steve observed all this and couldn't help but wonder if before losing his recent memories he had developed some rather abnormal sexual fetishes. The quiet fire burning in his loins suggested yes.

Steve's thoughts were calmly analytic given the circumstances, but he supposed it was the result of being only able freak out so much in a given day, and he had probably used up that supply during the journey over. It also helped to distract him from the thought that he was likely to be eaten, no evidence suggested this, and it seemed to be more of an instinctual assumption to be made upon seeing the large canines.

He was dragged onwards with a growing procession of followers of all ages and genders. They all seemed to be talking in guttural voices, with yipping and yelping sounds mixed in. The strangest part seemed to be that if he strained his ears he could make out certain words. Words he could understand. Steven tried to listen to confirm this, but it was too loud and jumbled to hear anything specific, and he was dragged on ahead of the crowd before he could ponder it anymore. He was yanked again as the wolf in front of him picked up the pace. Theorizing and chain yanking didn't mix apparently.

The wolf in front of him strode on through the village. He eventually came to stop in front a large concrete structure that stood out from the rest of the simple fabric tents and huts. Steve couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it prior to now, but if he was honest with himself, since he had noticed the 'interesting' features of the natives he had for the most part been watching them as they were in turn watching him.

Steve focused his gaze on the mammoth structure, and after looking round the encampment realized that this was the center most structure and concluded that the rest of the tent village must have been built up around it. A rather large guess, but considering he was being dragged around by a godamn werewolf he was allowed to make somewhat large leaps in logic.

He firmly believed the first step to surviving a situation was understanding what was going to kill you. Even if the only thing backing them up his theories were quick observations, and his almost encyclopedic knowledge of fantasy tropes. He figured he would keep theorizing on things until he was proven wrong. It wasn't like it could make him more dead if he did fuck up.

The thing that shocked him most about the concrete structure was that it looked modern in design. Like a skyscraper, it reached high into the sky in comparison to the tent city. It was at least twenty stories. The skills used to build such a thing seemed at odds with the incredibly primitive society that surrounded him, as it looked remarkably similar to the buildings he had seen in the business district of the city back on his own world, with massive windows covering every available vertical surface. Curiously none of the windows seemed broken, just old and dusty. He craned his head to look inside, but it was pitch black. No illumination came from within and the windows evidently didn't permit light from outside. Maybe they were tinted?

The werewolf bowed its head, almost reverently toward the structure, and moved round it before he stopped in front of a bizarre, more complex hut that before now had been hidden from view by the massive modern building.

The hut had been positioned so that it was almost leaning on the concrete structure, with ropes leading up to the modern buildings roof for support.

It was huge. It looked to have multiple stories of peculiar sizes and shapes, almost as if it was a gigantic tent that had latched onto the skyscraper structure for support, with ropes tightly linking the whole thing together, in what seemed slap dash, but was probably required to keep the ungainly multi room tent building structurally sound. All in all it made a quite impressively large, if dimensionally unique structure that towered over him. Unlike the skyscraper though he could clearly make out flickering lights through the thin canvas from fires within, and the occasional humanoid shadow that suggested an occupant moving around the rooms of the massive canvas structure.

The werewolf in front of him crouched on one knee and bowed its head, and Steve was forced to bow with him by the short chain.

Silence fell over the village, and a quick glance behind him revealed the large crowd had a hundred or so meters away and was also bowed on one knee, eyes averted downward reverently toward the hut. Steve tried not to make a sound, a somewhat difficult task with a metal chain attached to his neck. He mentally tallied up all the information from the last few minutes.

He had come to a few conclusions in that time. The most important of which was that he was no longer on earth. It seemed like a large leap to make, but based on the evidence he couldn't really think of much else.

The other piece of logic was that he was royally fucked. The reason for that amazing piece of logic essentially boiled down to the fact that the werewolf had two leather collars complete with chain readily available to him. It did not seem likely that a nice person who was not in the habit of capturing people without their consent would have two or more readymade chain collars. In which case Steve had decided that he was now a slave, a sacrifice or a snack. He genuinely could not see any of those as good outcomes.

On the plus side it seemed he was a subject of interest to the rest of the village, so at least the novelty he presented might keep him less dead for longer. He tactfully ignored the fact that said novelty might also make him dead faster. He was an optimist at heart after all.

The silence seemed to go on forever. Steve was gradually beginning to notice the camp had a smell of spices and herbs, but underneath that was a distinct smell that stuck him as strange and eerily familiar. It smelled quite distinctly of urine. Did the wolves mark their territory? Steve silently felt his emotions conflict between hoping he was not considered an item requiring marking, and hoping he was marked. Generally you don't urinate on dinner, and because of that he might live longer. The werewolf beside him was entirely ignorant of this amazing internal debate, and simply remained bowed towards the tower tent.

The flaps of the large tent finally opened. A figure stood illuminated in the fire light. She was honestly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, although the position of most beautiful creature had changed hands a few times in his mind in the last few minutes, due to his probable imminent demise making him slightly less rational than usual.

He was also becoming aware of the increasing possibility he may in fact have a fetish for werewolves with giant hips and racks, even if there was a distinct possibility they were planning on eating him. In any case the creature in front of him had a wide lead on her competitors in terms of 'wow' factor. That was a certainty.

She was different from the other Wulfen he had seen thus far. She sported white fur as pure as fresh fallen snow, with no marking that he could see. She stood tall in a pure white shawl as well as a loincloth that scandalously seemed to move about as she walked, promising glimpses of the bounty between her legs. The cloth tantalizingly occasionally showed a brief glimpse of something light pink against the white of the fur between her legs during the apex of her stride. Steve quietly thanked the gods for the light breeze. Her top had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders that drooped to barely conceal the impressively large round orbs of her chest, which seemed to stand almost in defiance of gravity and jiggled lightly as she moved.

Her eyes caught the light of the fires, glinting dangerously like shards of light blue ice. They seemed to casually take in everything around her. The light swish of her full fluffy white tail bounced above the round fullness of her buttocks, and it swished in time with the sway of her hips. It was as if her whole body was dripping with the ability to incite lust and flaunt its breeding potential.

She walked towards Steven, and his captor, with a casual grace that conveyed matronly authority, and to Steve's mind, a quite sinful amount of sex appeal that combined with her matriarchal presence seemed to give her a feeling of being forbidden fruit. It almost made him feel dirty for thinking sinfully of her, as if by virtue of her mature body and sharp eyes; she had become mother of all who looked upon her. It was an uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant sensation.

It was like his mind was trying to give her respect and solemn worship, while all his body could think about was humping any orifice she presented. The feelings of blind lust combined with his feelings of solemn respect managed to further upset his stomach with their conflicting desires, and give him a raging erection that strained at the thin fabric of his pants. It was all he could do not to start gyrating his hips.

A faint panting sound to his left caught his attention, and he agonizingly tore his attention away from the wolf-woman in front of him to look at his captor. The werewolf to his left was panting heavily, drool sliding off his lolling tongue, and disappearing into the dirt at his feet. Looking down, Steven quickly noticed that his captor was also having trouble controlling his lust. His dark red Wolven penis had slipped its sheath, and pushed past the delicate fabric of his loin cloth to be exposed to stand firmly in the cool night air.

The red dick was easily 9 inches at a guess. It bounced as the werewolf scented the white wolf. his nostrils flaring with desire. Trying to catch every bit of her scent. He began very gently bucking his hips in an almost unwilling way towards the object of his evident desires. Even so the wolf kept his head bowed toward the ground, one knee still firmly pressed to the floor, and his eyes aimed downwards. If the wolf man felt any shame at his obvious excitement, he certainly wasn't showing it.

Steven looked away, and honestly wished he could say the sight had been a turn off, but it seemed his own dick had only gotten painfully harder. As if it was trying to compete with the werewolf's in competition for the attentions of White goddess in front of them. Well, at least Steve wasn't the only one who had this reaction to the white female. He took little comfort in that, even if he would have preferred there to be no wolf erection less than 5 feet away.

She stopped just before Steven, and he found himself looking up at her from his crouching position. It was then that he noticed the white loose fitting shawl from this angle left her nipples exposed to his sight. He took a quick moment to thank the gods again, before trying to devour everything with his eyes, quickly noting that she too had the war paints on her fur, but they were of a light blue shade and difficult to see unless you were up close.

He observed the large pink nipples, standing out from her white fur. They stood out as if begging to be flicked, pinched, chewed and sucked amongst the ever white expanses of her chest. She stood as a goddess of motherhood and fertility, a mixture that left him standing before her feeling like a young child in the first stages of puberty; both aroused and guilty, as if his feeling of lust toward her were the same as lusting after a close family member, like a mother, aunt or older sister.

She pinned him with those icy grey eyes. She studied him, as he studied her. She observed him observing her, and for a second he thought he saw a flash in her eyes of arrogant delight at his painfully obvious arousal at her presence, evident from the erection that had formed that was being strained by the light fabric of his pants. Then the flash of mischief was gone.

She moved her stern gaze over to his captor. He noticed that he could smell her scent in the air now that she was so close. She honestly even smelled like heady perfume and musky sex.

She looked upon the Werewolf, with an intensity that fired a light tinge of envy through Steve's chest

"Michael, where did you find such a creature that so masquerades as a warrior of the God of Soldiers?" The voice was a quiet question, it did not seem to hold malice, and it seemed almost to be filled with pity.

Steve didn't even hear the words at first. He was listening to the tone of her voice. The tinge of sadness in her almost made Steven's arousal want to wilt. It didn't. In fact if anything it was now hardening more, but he imagined given the circumstance it should have. He blamed it on the natural light timbre and softness of her voice.

He may not have been at his intellectual peak just at that moment, but he had a pretty solid hunch he was the one being referred to as the one pretending to be a warrior of this 'God of Soldiers'. The comparison was flattering, especially considering he had never once, to the best of his knowledge, done a day of soldiering in his life, and while the best of his knowledge was pretty slim considering his memory troubles, he was still pretty sure he didn't feel like a soldier. After all he was definitely sure being a soldier meant having an interest in, or at least a tolerance to physical danger. He had thoroughly shown through his completely passive lack of resistance whatsoever up until now, that he had no interest in physical danger.

It seemed to him only heroes struggled in an impossible situation, and he considered heroes to be people who did everyone else a favor by removing themselves from the gene pool. This did not make Steve an amoral monster, it just meant that he picked his battles. Some would say that he didn't so much pick his battles, as run screaming away from them. He considered those people heroes, and hoped they did what heroes do best.

The werewolf now mentally dubbed Michael by Steve, spoke with the guttural growl that seemed much more fitting to the scary werewolf imagery, that the white wolf seemed to have foregone

"Oracle, while searching for the Lizard-Kin bandits that had been plaguing our hunting grounds I witnessed a great flash in the heavens. The Human fell from the sky wrapped in a ball of lightning into the forest of Direholm, that upon landing destroyed many trees and left a crater about ten meters across and one meter deep, leaving many of the trees flaming. I was not more than a kilometer away when it happened" He grunted with a completely sincere voice.

Steve almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the tale, then he remembered the story came from a panting werewolf wielding a 10 inch erection, in front of the hottest woman he had ever met, who was also a werewolf, and he himself was also sporting an erection. He decided that his common sense should take a back seat, and that he would just do what he usually did. Go with the flow.

He also noted that Michael had called the White wolf Oracle, he was now wondering if that was her name or station? The fact that he seemed to just be continually piling on more questions was readily becoming apparent. Wa he going to spend the rest of his life wondering what the fuck was going on? Considering he might not live through the next five minutes, this was a possibility that was not to be ignored. He knew for a fact that he wouldn't actually give a rat's ass about any of this if someone would just straight out say "We are not going to eat you".

The werewolf continued ignorant of Steve's internal tirade, "Upon approaching to investigate, I found the human unconscious and, after offering a prayer of thanks to the gods, I carried him away from the forest, which had burst into a mighty blaze"

He stopped for a moment, and for a second I could have sworn the wolf man looked embarrassed, before he continued

"I must admit in my haste to carry him away from the fire, I may have knocked him on some low hanging branches"

Well that explains my concussion on my first revival, assuming it was from a tree and not falling from the sky in a lightning bolt, Steven muttered to himself internally, although he had also noted, that if what Michael said was true, then the guy had saved his life. Of course, if he accepted that, it also meant accepting that he had ridden a lightning bolt earlier that day, and even with his mind wide open to accepting the new weird reality, he was having trouble accepting that one. He tactfully chose to ignore the comment about a prayer of thanks to the gods. He had been at friends' houses when they said grace before a meal, he did not want to be his new furry friends daily bread. Some might say he was ignoring reality, Steve would say was he being selective about the reality he chose to accept.

The story had a somewhat pregnant pause after word of Steve's mistreatment, it was filled only with the involuntary heavy panting of Michael and what Steve assumed was the sound of insect life, as it sounded remarkably like crickets. He was pondering over the awkward pause. Why would Michaels mistreatment in saving my life seem bad, but punching me in the face, chaining me up and dragging me collared through the dirt with the whole village watching be fine? I mean it's not so much a double standard as it is fucking confusing.

Steve couldn't help but wonder if Michael would even mention punching his lights out, I mean was it good or bad now? Was he a snack? A sacrifice? The fuck was going on? Steven resisted the temptation to sit down in frustration, as he shifted his weight slightly, his erection reminded him of its existence, as he a felt painful rubbing sensation, caused by his movements as the head was pushed against the taut fabric. He couldn't help but notice that same mischievous glint from before returned to Oracle's eyes as she glanced over. It was just for a second but it was definitely there, before she returned her attention to Michael.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 01



Steve was left wondering if she enjoyed seeing her unique attractiveness cause discomfort in everyone or just him? Either way, that behavior didn't take away from her mature charm for him. It just added to it. He was again made aware of his burning, almost unnatural desire for her.

Trying to ignore her presence, he focused on the story as Michael had begun to speak again.

"I eventually made my way out of the forest and brought the human to rest on the grass of the plains, well away from the fire, and I knew he must have been a servant of the Soldier God, cast out from the heavens and injured by their eternal war." Michael raised his head up and looked the Oracle dead in the eyes as he continued, Steve couldn't help but notice his erection stood even larger and firmer as he made eye contact. He was getting some weird vibes here. Weirder than things already were.

Michael spoke proudly of the next bit "I thought that the human was still sleeping, I knew all the old tales, the only thing that would rouse the spirit of a warrior of the God of Soldiers was communion with another devoted warrior. I placed my spear above him and began the holy sanctities"

Michael looked even prouder, now standing as tall as he could while still on one knee. He spoke with what Steve had begun to understand as religious vehemence "The sleeping servant of The Soldier God however had already roused himself, without even my aid, as he reached out to grasp my spear. I feared that he was still confused from his battle at the beginning of recorded time-"

Ok, Steve was completely lost now. He had been following along fairly well up until then. The big oaf seemed to be under the illusion that Steve was a servant of god, fallen from heaven, in other words the sky. It seemed these guys also believed that there was a war in heaven. That bit made sense. Sort of, it helped if you were thinking flexibly. The bit he didn't get was why they thought their god or his servants looked human? Were there even humans on this planet? Also, why if he was a servant of the God of Soldiers was he beaten the crap out of, and then dragged through the streets like a whipped dog? These guys evidently didn't treat their gods with much respect. He calmed himself. He would continue to listen and do nothing. It was system that had not gotten him eaten thus far, and that meant it was a good system. Michael continued still ignorant of Steve's inner turmoil.

"- I showed him respect the only way a wounded warrior on his back can receive it, from one soldier to another, I placed my foot on his stomach" There was a collective audible gasp from the crowd behind Steve. He had to admit with all this going he had forgotten they existed.

Steve was going to turn to see behind him, and what all the fuss was about, when the Oracle caught his eyes with her own. She no longer had that look of mischief in her eyes, this was an entirely serious face. She made a slow almost imperceptible shake of the head side to side. Steve's mind that until now had managed to settle back into 'listen and learn' mode had to switch back to 'think and do shit' mode. He was not happy about this transition.

He froze mid head turn. Turning his face back to look at her, he quickly decided that obeying her was probably for the best, primarily due to the fact that she seemed to be the boss of the meathead holding his leash. Looking back at her hourglass body. He decided the view was no doubt much better anyway.

"With the rite of surrender now instigated, I began the rite of subjugation. It would seem however that the human was still weak from his battle, and was rendered unconscious once again by a single blow-" More gasping. That was beginning to piss Steve off almost as much as the look of unadulterated pride that Michael was showing in his retelling. It would seem beating up downed foes was an act worthy of adoration Steve mused. In that case he was going to the biggest hero this world had ever known as soon as this pompous ass was asleep. At least he comforted himself with this thought, while knowing full well, the first thing he would do upon everyone else falling asleep would be search for an opportunity for escape, and run as far away from the werewolves and their pointy things as he possibly could. The story continued unabated.

"-I quickly recovered my cart, removed the corpses of the Lizard-kin bandits and loaded the Human onto it. It was with great haste that I brought him back to the village, and before your feet, oh great Oracle."

Steve couldn't help but notice that with that the air between the two wolf people in front of him had turned somewhat icy. There had been a smile on Oracle's face right up until the mention of the 'rite of surrender' and she was almost snarling by the time Michael had finished talking. If Michael was bothered by this, he didn't show it. In fact, he looked distinctly pleased.

Steve had thus far understood that apparently having the shit kicked out of him, was a much more elaborate way of putting up your hands in surrender. He hoped that this world had some form of protection for POW's, of which he apparently now was one. He was also wondering how or why a people go to war against what they perceive to be gods? Did humans just drop from the sky all the time? He didn't think so, considering all the attention he received. It would seem he was pretty abnormal.

By this point most people would have given up even trying to decipher all this gibberish and given in to despair in an unknown situation, but Steve wasn't most people. He was a coward at heart, and like most cowards, his body and mind were tireless in their pursuit of saving his own skin. Which meant the more he knew, the more likely he was to live for another few minutes. Steve steadfastly remained still and continued listening.

Michael let the pause after his story sink in. The silence seemed deafening, even the insects had stopped creaking, perhaps having sensed the tension in the air. He looked straight into the eyes of the Oracle, almost defiantly now as his heavy pants continued, his large cock gradually bobbing up, almost in a mirror of the defiance of his upturned face, his quiet thrusting continued unabated, as it had throughout his tale. His mouth had peeled back into the Canine approximation of a grin, he spoke the next words with care. They were carefully enunciated as they left his mouth.

"I seek your blessing to induct the Human, Servant of the Soldier God, into the pack of Michael Dragon Killer"

Almost instantly, as if a spell had been broken by his words, the crowd behind them burst into frenzied shouting and barking. The noise was almost deafening as all members of the group seemed to voice their opinions at once, it was cacophony of howling, growling and yipping. He looked to see that the figures in the crowd were now arguing amongst themselves, even the children. It would seem that this turn of events was a subject for debate, and in the rush to make their opinions known, they had all but forgotten the three figures standing in the spotlight, so focused were they on arguing with the person closest.

Steve noted that the two figures in front of him stood statue still. The Oracle was no longer looking down at Michael with the kind matriarchal expression she had entered the clearing with, it had twisted into a fierce scowl that exposed her large canines. The look was a truly bestial one. A face that reminded Steven that in spite of her beauty, she still had a body that could easily tear him to pieces. He felt uncomfortable just being in the cone of vision of the person who was displaying such controlled rage, he didn't even want to imagine what it was like to be the one taking full brunt of that anger.

He glanced over at Michael, expecting to see him backing down. Instead the wolf man was standing up, he had moved forward a half step until the two creatures snouts must have been mere millimeters away from each other.

The bodies were now so close that the Oracle's large heaving breasts were touching Michaels own well-muscled chest. A side effect of her own angered deep breaths must have been causing her nipples to rub against him, moving up and down with her breathing, gradually letting them become hard under the light stimulation, much to his evident delight, and her further irritation. Steve had a feeling this behavior was not normal, and Michael was committing some serious taboos with his action.

Steve's eyes traveled down this bizarre confrontation. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened as he saw that Michaels erect member was pushing up against the Oracle's stomach, gradually moving up and down.

Michael was lightly moving his hips forward and up in his thrusts, forcing the sensitive head up against soft white flat fur of her stomach, only for that soft white fur to yield slowly to each side against the hard dark red intruder's more powerful advances, and let it rub up against the smooth pink flesh beneath. A faint drizzle of white liquid was leaking from the tip in a pulsing fashion, smearing his life juices all over her stomach and creating darker patches where the fur was pressed down, the light white hairs were being enveloped in the liquids and forced to bend under the weight of the cum, creating a round glistening patch under the Oracle's navel as the casual grinding continued.

Steve was wondering why the Oracle was not attempting to stop him. Then he thought about it and realized; Michael's body was covering his actions. If she pushed him away or in some way struck him, it would alert the crowd behind them. He could only imagine what effect this would have on her sovereignty if it was shown she was vulnerable to attack. Evidently the situation was delicate enough that she was willing to endure this obscene touching of her persons rather than risk damaging her image amongst her people.

It was not a fair situation, considering that she was blameless and yet would still be tarred by the public eye for having someone else act in this way toward her. Steve also understood that it was still the way of the world when it came to a question on a woman's purity to blame the victim as well as the aggressor, as if she should have somehow been able to stop the situation before it started. It made him feel sick, but there was nothing that could be done about it. People sucked, it was just that simple.

Michael in a despicable act, was using her image as an untouchable goddess as a shield, even while he violated it for his own sick pleasure. Steve felt ill as he had a distinct feeling that it was his own presence that had changed the power paradigm enough for this sickening attack to take place. He was powerless and could only watch on as this evidently powerful woman was used by the monstrous warrior for his own pleasures.

The Oracle's own anger was aiding Michael in his obscene advances, as her heavy breathing was working against her. The gradual rise and fall of her stomach was working almost in time with the delicate thrusts of the red cock nuzzled near her navel, causing yet more of the warm thick semen to be spread up, and over her stomach. The cock occasionally had its pointed tip become caught in her navel, almost in a sick parody of the joining of a loving man and woman, as the very tip of the hot dick daintily pressed its way a few millimeters into the small erogenous zone. It was not long before the small orifice was overflowing with Michael's warm spunk, causing it to dribble down her stomach and past the loose edge of her loincloth.

The pair's eyes all the while remained locked on each other as they stood stock still in mutual confrontation. Hers in barely contained fury, while his were overflowing with lust, defiance and much to Steven's confusion admiration.

With an almost casual movement, the warrior brought up his free hand, and cupped it just below her jaw. There was a brief moment of resistance, before there was a light growling in the back of his throat made her reluctantly relent and slowly lift her snout to face the sky. The male grinned even wider, gazing upon the creamy expanse of her now exposed throat. He wasted no time in placing his snout to her windpipe, breathing deeply of the females scent. He let out his long tongue and licked along her throat. Tentatively at first, then gradually picking up more speed and enthusiasm when it became clear there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Michael was reveling in the animalistic show of domination he was forcing on her. It didn't take a genius to see the symbolism he was conveying to her with this act. Gradually, he began to lick even faster, enjoying the feeling of heat on his tongue as it lapped over the arteries of her throat that were rhythmically pulsing with in time with her heartbeat, to push the life sustaining blood through her body. As of this moment her life had been rendered entirely into his hands, and they both knew it.

Finally when her throat and chest were sodden with his saliva she finally let out an involuntary shudder of outrage. The sight sent a jolt of pleasurable heat firing through his manhood. Opening his mouth wide, he snarled and clamped his teeth across her throat. Startled the Oracle let out a sound that sounded eerily similar to a yelp and moved to pull away, but was held firmly in place by his teeth as they tightened on her throat, forcing her to hold still. All the while his tongue worked tirelessly, lapping away at the now soaked fur of her throat. As the violation of her neck continued, so too did the violation of her stomach, as the powerful warrior humped furiously at the soft white flat of her expanses of her stomach, leaving it a stinking mess of soaked white fur and male juices.

Steve could barely bring himself to continue to look on. Even if he did not believe in impossible acts of heroism, there were just some things that one stands in the presence of, and can't help but feel the urge to act. He started to grudgingly move his feet forward, when he stopped. He found that at some point during the growing physical confrontation, the hands holding his chains had changed. The Oracle had, while Michael was distracted, snapped the chain in both hands without making a sound, and now held the shortened end attached to Steve. She glanced over at Steve, even as Michael was sawing his tongue across her throat, and winked. Michael noticing her change in attention, quickly glanced over at Steve from his position attached to her throat as if remembering him for the first time since he started, then looked down at the chains path. His smirk quickly turned into a scowl as he realized he had been tricked. He unclamped his jaw from the Oracle's throat with a low growl, one that now seemed significantly less confident now. He took a step back, and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off, as the Oracle waved a hand dismissively in front of him. She held the chains firmly and stepped calmly around Michaels left side marching toward the crowd, grinning in a way that did not fit with the demure being from before, her smile was quite mischievous in its appearance. The fact she was grinning at all was an impressive feat considering what had been happening to her just moments ago. She gently pulled Steve forward with her as she almost skipped forwards. The whole event had managed to remain hidden from the crowd, as Michaels back would have covered his obscene movements. To the onlookers, it would seem as if he had simply handed her the chain. Steve risked a quick look back to see Michael drop the remaining bit of chain in his hands in disgust. Evidently in spite of Michael's underhanded cunning, it was the Oracle who possessed the upper hand in a battle of wits.

Steve quickly decided that the tall wolf man was not just a simple warrior, his recent actions were like those of a shark who scented blood in the water, instant and utterly ruthless. That sort of spontaneous usage of newfound powers were the actions of one intimately accustomed to using it. He was obviously a man who occupied a high station within the community, and that through some spectacular misfortune, Steve being rescued by him had somehow boosted the Wolfman's standing even further; to a position where he felt he could secretly challenge his superior without fear of immediate repercussion. Considering the disgusting behavior he had instantly used that newfound power of his for, this was definitely a bad thing.

The Oracle resumed her regal pose, and looking at her Steve could hardly attribute the fierce scowl of before to such a fair creature, neither could he imagine that half a second ago, she had been grinning like a mad woman. She was he decided, most definitely not what she appeared to be at first sight.

The Oracle didn't even spare him a second glance as she came to look upon the crowd. She spoke in a commanding voice, which while not shouting, still carried far into the back of the crowd, even over the shouting that had remained at a constant din thus far. She spoke but one word.

"Silence!"

The crowd stopped speaking almost immediately and all turned to face her. Steve for a horrified moment thought they would see the semen dripping off her stomach, and to make matters worse now that he looked closer, he could see a slightly more female lubricant dripping down her inner thighs. Evidently not just Michael had been enjoying the close proximity. Even if her emotions of anger had been real, it seemed on a physical level she had still been aroused by the closeness to the large male. Christ almighty Steve thought, that was not a normal reaction to an act that was essentially rape.

Steve would normally have just rationalized it away as a difference in culture that he had misunderstood, except that the Oracle's outrage had been all too real. This most definitely suggested that Michael's actions were not within the scope of socially acceptable behavior.

This then raised the next most obvious question, had she been aroused and disgusted by the act at the same time? He supposed it was entirely possible. His own unwilling arousal stemming from the werewolf woman was essentially the same thing on a lesser scale. Evidently even the Oracle had her own kinks that got her heated up, and evidently one of those kinks was having her authority challenged by rebellious upstarts. Whether she acknowledged this to be the case or not, the evidence was leaking down her legs.

'Well there goes my image of her as an innocent goddess who stood above the base feelings like lust.' Steve chuckled to himself, even if only to stifle his feelings of irrational irritation at this loss of innocence. As well as the equally irrational irritation that seemed to have stemmed from her subconsciously reacting to Michaels attentions.

All this went unnoticed by the crowd as the poor lighting and the fact that the white on white substances were only evident if you were in close proximity. The Oracle had been speaking while he was thinking about all this, and because of that he only real caught the end of her speech "-and as you all know, Michael is our strongest warrior, and the addition of the human to his pack would be a valuable addition-"

Really? Thought Steve, because for the life of him he couldn't see what he could do, that a gigantic werewolf couldn't do better. Crawl through small vents?

"-However, forcing a servant of god into your own service is an act that could have far reaching consequences, even if the pact was formed through adoption in battle-"

What battle? Him beating me senseless while I was already senseless? Steve's cynical introspection however had no effect on the speech taking placing before him.

"-it still requires further thought and debate. I am aware it is not my right to stand between a warrior and his conquests, or deny the ancient rite of subjugation. I simply ask for one week. A week with which to converse with this human, and help him adjust to life as a mortal within our society."




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 02



Authors Note: Chapter contains female domination, non-consent and light SM.

*****

A man can dream. Steve was a man just like any other. He was a man who had been pulled across time and space, to be deposited in a fantasy world where he was to be worshipped as a god. He had even spent a few blissful moments of the previous evening passionately worshipping a beautiful wolf woman's foot before passing out. So upon waking with his head pillowed on something warm soft and fluffy, even a jaded man such as himself was allowed to have hopes.

So it is not hard to imagine then, the disappointment he felt not only in his bedding arrangements, but also in himself, to awaken to the sight of a few haphazardly stacked cream pillows beneath his head, rather than the most bountiful form of his host. A man can dream, but only because reality rarely chooses to deliver.

Pillows however still beat spears. Steve took solace in that fact. He found much to his delight that his headache had disappeared. In fact his whole body felt fine. No, his whole body felt great. Sitting up and running his hands up and down himself, he found his scrapes and bruises from yesterday's ordeal had completely disappeared. 

He was also completely nude. And covered in white symbols. Covered from head to toe in symbols that seemed vaguely familiar. He took a moment to appreciate the artistic skill of whoever had painted him with such detail. Then he felt shame and outrage.

It was the quiet kind of outrage. The kind that says 'Yeah I'm pissed, but I also know there is sweet fuck all I can do about it.' It was the sort of outrage he had come to know intimately yesterday, and was quickly realizing he would be courting it for the foreseeable future. In that regard it was quite similar to his conspicuously absent hostess.

Priorities. Clothes. The priority right now was not to be naked. It wasn't that Steve was embarrassed by his body, quite the opposite. He was quite a vain person truth be told.

The issue was that it was hard to garner respect from someone with your dick swinging about. Or, maybe it was the opposite? Thinking back the werewolves clothing had shown a lot of skin, as well as other... bodily parts. He pictured those naked female forms in his mind. Stop. Focus. Stick with what we know. Steve began his first battle of the day. His hunt for pants. 

The hunt ended pretty quickly. The conclusion. He had found a loincloth. His old clothes were MIA, presumed stolen by a large white wolf with a readily apparent sadistic sense of humor. He offered a quick prayer in his trousers memory.

Steve eyed the loincloth like a man might eye a king cobra he had stumbled across in a public toilet stall while under the effects of several laxatives. He knew he had to make a decision between two unpleasant choices. He had to make it soon. One choice could have potentially lethal consequences. The other public shame and an uncomfortable sensation around his groin. After a few seconds of deliberation, Steve stood shamefaced in nothing but a cream loincloth and white paint.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by wearing a loincloth. Well he was, it just had nothing to do with the dangerous amount of exposure it represented. The issue was that as a man trapped on a technologically inferior foreign planet, the loin cloth was the ultimate in cliché attire.

Steve chuckled. It seemed his sense of humor was still functional. So long as he could laugh at the absurdity of the situation, he wouldn't freeze up when something really strange happened.

He began searching the tent building for his host, or better yet, his pants. With solid determination he began his journey through the canvas hallways of the absurd tent building. 

It wasn't long before he could make out the smells and sounds of cooking. Following his senses he continued onwards. 

It seemed like a lifetime, but was likely only a few minutes of infuriating wrong turns into rooms he could see no obvious purpose for, that he searched. He finally found the kitchen.

Kitchen may have been too strong a word for it. Kitchen implied preparation of food. He amended; room with a panicking Talia burning a hunk of meat the size of his head over a fire with a large stick. The absurdity of the wolf woman wildly waving the hunk of burning meat, was only confounded by the fact that she seemed to be wearing a black lycra looking shirt with the words 'bad bitch' written clearly on the front. He would have been shocked at the bizarrely modern shirt in the scene were his eyes not riveted to the fact that the shirt was the 'only' thing she was wearing.

Steve couldn't help it. He froze. His sense of comedy evidently wasn't advanced enough to come up with a quip for this situation. Talia for her part spotted him in the doorway, and froze mid meat wave. The silent room was filled only with the sounds of the light crackling of the fire. In a moment of absent minded observation Steve noticed that the smoke from the fire was escaping through a hole in the roof, that was acting as a chimney. Nifty.

The frozen stillness was finally interrupted by Talia uttering one word.

"You!" 

"Me?" Steve looked around. They were the only ones present. It must be him.

"This is your fault!" she took one angry step forward. Meat stick brandished before her. "If you humans weren't so damn picky about your food. I wouldn't have to do this crap!" A dramatic flourish of her hand about the 'kitchen' illustrated her statement.

Steve was touched, figuratively and literally by the meat kebab. He felt obscenely grateful for the fact she had tried to make him breakfast. A little too grateful considering she was the reason he was on this planet in the first place. Still he couldn't help but think she looked almost adorable angrily hefting the massive charred hunk of meat. 

He decided that he would show his appreciation through action. A smaller more manipulative part of him also pointed out that acting grateful to her might endear her to him. Endearment might make the difference between her dropping him like a burnt meat stick, and saving his ass should he need it. Relationships were give and take. The trick was to get the maximum take for your give.

He took a step forward and grasped the hunk of meat by the base, and cautiously took a bite. It was terrible. It was like she had somehow managed to blacken the outside while leaving the center cold. That took some serious talent. Evidently she did not cook her own meals. He absentmindedly hoped that whatever he was eating had never been able to talk.

He smiled, "Thank you for breakfast Talia". 

Thanking someone for breakfast is a difficult feat when you are trying to keep said breakfast from coming straight back up your esophagus.

Talia stopped mid rant. She turned the full bore of her gaze on him. Steve tried to keep smiling pleasantly as she observed him. Cold sweat broke out in the small of his back. 

Finally after what seemed like an eternity. She started laughing. Steve didn't even spend a moment being puzzled. She had been messing with him from the start. He felt an idiot. As well as nauseous.

Looking around he realized there were two wooden plates of strange fruits and cooked meats hidden in the corner of the room. He groaned inwardly as he threw away the disgusting meat block. Talia was now almost in tears as she grabbed her stomach and cackled.

'Note to self: Don't trust Talia. She wastes food.' Steve grumbled incoherently as he walked over to grab the plates. He grudgingly pushed one in Talia's direction as he sat down cross legged on the floor to eat. 

He would have reveled in the exotic flavors of the strange fruits and meats were his mouth not filled with the taste of burnt flesh. He tried his utmost to tactfully ignoring Talia's great guffaws of laughter as she rolled on the floor. After a while she lazily sat up and began devouring the contents of the plate ravenously. 

Was she hungry because she had been waiting for him to wake up to do this little trick? If so she needed a new hobby. Realizing he was watching her eat, she gave him a sultry wink before returning her focus to her food. Yep, definitely needs a new hobby. Preferably one that didn't involve him. Or world domination.

Finally when the two had finished eating, she sat back and spoke. "So Steve, you have questions and I have answers. Ask what you want in the next half hour. Then we get started on what I brought you here to do." Her grin was obscenely suggestive. What was more suggestive was that she was choosing to occasionally open and close her legs to flash him. Sadist.

Steve looked over at her. He was genuinely wondering how the serene motherly being he had seen yesterday when they were outside, and this mischievously grinning woman with the words 'bad bitch' stapled across her shirt could possibly be the same. 

He closed his eyes to ignore her so he could focus on his questions. He again cursed reality. Why was it only absurd when it came to the irritating things in life? 

First things first, "Where did that shirt come from?"

"The humans left it behind."

"You expect me to believe its two hundred years old?"

"They built to last."

He dared not ruin his monk like focus by opening his eyes. His train of thought could be instantly ruined by a seductive flashing, or even just the sight of her ample breasts straining against that poor shirt.

"Ok, where are my clothes?"

"I've. Hidden. Them" She was speaking in a giggly sing song voice.

"Why?" Hopefully it was a reason better than, 'it seemed funny at the time'.

"Because if you are to earn the support of the tribe, you need to dress like them. Not like a Lizard-kin merchant who's afraid of the cold."

Steve could understand that. Sort of. Even if he wasn't one hundred percent sure on what a Lizard-kin merchant was.

It seemed self-explanatory, but he had no idea if merchants were respected in this culture. Or Lizard-kin. Probably not, having seen the werewolf's heavy martial bias. He assumed the paints and loin cloth were a part of the whole 'fitting in' thing.

"So why does Michael think I'm a servant of the gods and not a god myself?"

"Two reasons. Firstly you didn't smite him to death when he attempted to subjugate you. A god would have the strength to do so, so he likely came to the conclusion you were a lesser aspect.

Secondly, it's just plain more convenient for him to say you're not a full god. He would face more resistance from my more staunch supporters, if he tried to claim a full deity as his servant. It would make it seem as if he were trying to stand above the current gods, rather than simply as their equal."

So basically to this culture a 'god' was a being of unchallengeable strength. That made sense. Mostly. In order to bypass that Michael didn't have unbeatable strength, he was going to 'ascend' to godhood in the eyes of his people by controlling a being of divine origin, a feat that no other being in this world has done before apparently. Steve imagined it was all smoothed over by the fact that Michael was already ridiculously strong. 

Next question then. The more Steve knew the more bad situations he could avoid.

"Where did all the humans go? Those buildings look like they took a while to build. People don't just up and leave after putting that kind of investment in."

There was a sudden quiet. It lasted quite a long time. 

Steve was confused. Was his question offensive somehow? He didn't think Talia was the type to be easily offended. Then again he had known her all of a few hours. He was not conceited enough to think you could get a firm grasp of someone's personality in such a short period of time.

When she spoke her voice had lost all that mischievous melody it had before. Her voice was hard and quiet.

"They died."

"All of them?" That seemed unlikely in a space age society.

"There were only seven on world, one male and six females"

"How did they die?"

"That's a long story"

"So you said before. Cut it down to about twenty minutes." He didn't mean to be abrupt, but if the humans had died of disease or something similar he needed to know now. What he would do with this information he didn't know. Panic probably.

A loud sigh sounded off to his right, before Talia started in a complete monotone "Before the humans came to this world it was embroiled in war, disease and hunger. When the humans first arrived on this world they used their robotic war machines to forcibly enforce peace by destroying any who challenged it. 

They then proceeded to teach us medicine, farming and proper construction techniques. They even gave us a common language."

That explains why everyone here speaks English. The culture bleed over probably also explained the distinctly familiar names.

"The weakest of them was easily as strong as the greatest werewolf. They claimed the amazing abilities they possessed were the results of 'gene therapies' and 'machine augments'. Concepts that my primitive forebears couldn't possibly understand.

Seeing the great wonders and strength of these beings from the stars. My forefathers worshipped them as gods. It was only natural; strength is the only requirement to rule on Sapheros. All six tribes were united under one banner for the first time in our short history. 

Each tribe adopted one of the off-worlders as their patron god. The only exception was my own tribe, the werewolves, being the largest tribe they swore their loyalty to two of the off-worlders. 

The pair chosen claimed to be 'married' and were rarely away from one another. My people not understanding the meaning of marriage, misunderstood their explanations, and came to believe the two marriage partners were in fact two parts of one greater being. 

The Humans at first tried to stop this religious adoration, but upon seeing the positive effects a unified religion was having in uniting the populace, they decided to accept their new roles as honorary leaders of each of the tribes. 

What they did not realize at the time were the risks and responsibilities their new roles would entail. They even chose to let their robotic guardians return to the stars, having claimed they were no longer needed.

It was an age of peace and prosperity this world had never known. A peace that lasted but a short twenty years. It was on the anniversary of the Humans arrival that they announced they must return home. 

They claimed that there had emerged a great war in the galactic community that required their presence, for the battle lines had moved close to their own home worlds.

It was in that moment their fate was sealed. In all the time that they had spent teaching us, they had learned nothing about us or our beliefs"

Talia paused. She took a deep breath before she continued. She evidently did not savor recounting this tale.

"You have to understand something about the peoples of this world. We worship strength in all things. The form that strength takes is irrelevant. Only that it exists in some form at all. Thus to be considered a 'god' your strength must be absolute, or close enough that it doesn't matter.

It was not the human's medicine or buildings that gave them power over my people. It was the idea of their absolute strength. Even when the humans let their robotic warriors leave, my people believed the human's strength absolute. 

That was why they were never challenged, their reputation as invincible was shield enough against any challenge of leadership. 

So can you imagine my people's horror when they admitted that their power was not beyond compare? That within the stars there were other beings able to challenge them. 

This raised another question. If the humans could be defeated by others, what was to stop the species of Sapheros from gaining enough strength to challenge the gods themselves?

It is the one constant rule of this world: The strong seek each other out, and create stronger beings. Through creating new offspring or destroying one another in combat. The rules are simple; so long as the strong collide, only the fittest will survive.

It was not even one night before the six leaders of the tribes met in secret. The conclusion they came to was this; the old gods had become weak, new gods must be forged. Gods who understood the importance of power above all things. Sapherosian Gods.

Invites were sent out to the humans on the next morning. One from each tribe to its patron god. They were invited to farewell celebrations in each of their separate kingdoms. Without their robotic warriors, away from their home base and alone, the Humans were all captured on arrival. 

The only exception being the male of the married couple. In the confusion of the capture attempt, he was wounded just before he managed to touch a device on his wrist and disappeared into thin air. Abandoning his wife, never to be seen again.

With the capture of the six females, the work of forging new gods could commence. The new gods would be born by mixing the blood of human and Sapherosian. 

My ancestors of that time had learned of their magical abilities through the human's teachings. Thus my tribe's shamans wrought the most powerful magic's they could onto the body of the captured goddess. 

Carving sigils of fertility and submission into the body they had once worshipped. By the time they were finished, it was said that not one part of her body was untouched by the intricate markings.

It was then that the leader of the tribe mounted her. Using magic and powerful drugs he rutted with her without rest for two weeks. Sure enough, by the third week the signs of pregnancy began to show on the battered woman. Within another four weeks she went into labor.

The birth was rough. Even with the improved health and strength provided by the human's gene therapy, she was unable to survive the alien child that had formed in her womb. 

From the death of the mother though a single child came to be. The story was much the same for the other six tribes. Within a year all the humans on Sapheros were dead or in the case of the male, missing. The tribes chose to believe that their souls had passed into the children, rather than accept that they had effectively murdered the strongest being they had ever encountered.

Six new gods had been born. Sapherosian gods, ageless and physically far stronger than even the humans they had spawned from, yet in the shape of the tribes they hailed from. So it is, that to this day the Sapherosian gods stand vigil over their tribes, to advise on any actions the tribe leader chooses to take. Just as their parents did before them."

Talia had finished her tale. By the end she sounded like she was simply reading aloud words she had heard a thousand times before.

Steve didn't know what to say. It was pretty obvious as to what Talia's origin were now. What could he say? "Oh so your mother was an alien who was betrayed, raped and died giving birth to you?" Not exactly conversation stimulating material. 

He pondered giving his condolences, but he had a feeling she would not react to any show of compassion positively. It didn't seem to be part of the cultural psyche of this world.

"So I would be correct in assuming you are one the six Sapherosian gods?" Not exactly subtle, but he wasn't exactly on his A-game right now. The uncooked meats from before were still churning up his insides. Besides the awkward silence was killing him. He almost missed Talia tormenting him. Almost. 

He gradually opened his eyes when she didn't answer. He didn't think he would be getting anymore answers out of her for the immediate future given her sudden retreat into silence. She sure as shit didn't sound like she was in a flashing mood anymore.

He was right. She didn't look to be in a question answering mood. She was standing in front of him. She had a large bucket of water, and an equally unpleasant grin.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 02



She stood over him like a war god about to swoop down on an unsuspecting foe. This was exactly what she was, after a fashion. He had just enough time to ponder where and when she had gotten the bucket before it was upended over his head. The water was cold. Very cold.


He heard a haughty voice above him as he spluttered on the ground.

"Well now my presumptuous companion. Now you know who and what I am, but I think I'm going to say it anyway. Dramatic effect and all that," He felt a heavy foot on his stomach, as he was unceremoniously pushed onto his back. 

"Oh god here we go again" His voice was little more than a wheeze.

Talia ignored him, "I am Talia of the Divine Pack, daughter of Michelle Williams of the 17th Exploration Team Pack, God of Administration. As the current incarnation of the God of Administration, I hereby lay claim to Steven Smith, Servant of the God of Soldiers." Steve coughed, as she emphasized her 'claiming' by pushing her foot a bit further into his stomach.

After a few seconds of her standing there, apparently enjoying stepping on him, she removed her foot from him and sat back down. Steve appreciated the joys of a steady supply of oxygen again, before he sat up and gave her a critical eye.

She was panting hard. It seemed comical considering her plans for world domination, and yet here she was out of breath from hoisting a bucket of water.

"Are you really that unfit?"

The look she gave him could have made milk curdle. 

"No. I am not unfit human. I am the strongest being on the planet. The reason for my current state of exhaustion is that I just claimed you as a member of my own pack, and in doing so transferred a tiny shred of my magical ability to you. Considering humans don't naturally possess magic you have no idea how difficult a feat I just accomplished."

Steve didn't feel magical. He felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water on him and then stepped on him.

"Are you sure? I don't really feel anything. I mean why would you even suddenly give me magic?"

"I gave you about enough magic to undo some other magic that I have set up in advance. You my diminutive servant are going to perform a miracle."

Steve groaned. He had a hunch this was going to be a "This is my boomstick" moment. He had no doubt that Talia had a lot more than just that modern T-shirt lying around. If she had gotten her hands on that, it stood to reason she had some more impressive tech. It was either that or she was just going to use magic.

"I have used my magic-" Nailed it. "-to manipulate one of the members of this village since birth."

Steve was pretty sure that manipulating someone from birth was not the actions of a good person. Then again if he got to keep living because of it, he could care less about the morality.

"The werewolf in question is a female named Sarah" Why the fuck did all these werewolves have human sounding names, western ones at that. Surely they should have something like Razor-Tooth or Wind-Runner. Maybe human names were just popular? A bit like naming your kid after one of the twelve disciples.

"She was as a pup, very talented in her martial ability. I took that opportunity to secretly seal her abilities early on before they became readily apparent to others. So long as the seal was in place she would be weak and slow" Talia looked away guiltily for a second. She was evidently not as cold hearted about her manipulation as she pretended to be. Or she was just making him think that. He honestly couldn't take anything she said or did at face value. 

"As she grew older, she quickly became ostracized by members of the tribe for her apparent lack of strength and ability. When she came of breeding age I took measures to ensure that her secondary sexual characteristics never fully developed."

In other words she took a young girl with a bright future, and destroyed it to further her own schemes. Steve knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of that stick. He felt a sense of camaraderie toward this 'Sarah'. They were both victims of Talia in their own way.

"The end result is that she has not been adopted by any of the sub-packs within the tribe, due to the fact she offers little in the way of breeding potential, or any other benefit to whichever group would think of adopting her. She is now a social pariah living on the edge of the tribes camping grounds. She has difficulty hunting enough to feed herself."

Yep, Talia was definitely not one of the good guys. He couldn't bring himself to dislike her though. After all she was just like himself. A coward with the will to do whatever it took to survive, and damn anything that got in her way. The only difference between them was a matter of scale.

In the end though a difference in scale might be all it took for him to reach his ethical 'line in the sand'. Not yet though, and likely not for some time to come.

If Steve thought it would have made a difference he might have complained about Talia's blatant disregard for the suffering she had caused up until now. As it stood he felt a bit uncomfortable but listened on anyway. It wasn't like he was in a better position than the social pariah, they were discussing.

"The reason I have done all this over the years, is simple. If I can make my people believe following me as a god will make them stronger, I will garner a massive amount of support."

She paused for dramatic effect. When he didn't respond she continued. Sullenly. 

That's where you come in Steve. You walk up to her while she's training; say some bullshit about the gods rewarding her faith, claim her in my name and boom. She instantly gets martial ability comparable to Michael. 

She gets her natural born talents back, I get a crap load of new believers and you get a new underling who is utterly loyal to you. Everybody wins in the end."

She was looking at him now like she expected him to start clapping. He was not clapping. 

"That's all well and good boss lady, but why do you need me for this?"

She was looking at him like he was stupid.

"I need you to do it because Sarah is going to be your bodyguard when I'm busy, which is going to be most of the time. So she needs to be loyal to you, because you're far too valuable for me to risk with someone of unknown loyalty."

"Yeah, I get that bit, even if it is a bit over the top to get the loyalty of one person. I mean if you want to take over the tribe, why not just challenge Michael to a duel and have it over with? You said you're much stronger than him anyway."

"Ah my silly compatriot don't you get it. I have competition. Competition in the form of five other 'gods' of roughly equal ability. Even if I did defeat Michael I would still have much bigger problems on the horizon, and I would be in a position where I would be visible and vulnerable to attacks on my authority. I need to wipe the board clean with my first move. That's why I need you. You're my wild card."

Steve still didn't get it. If anything he was a complication to her plans. Sure he made her seem stronger by having a human servant, but if anyone actually fought him they would see his weakness immediately, sullying the idea of 'human means strength'. He must have looked confused because Talia continued her explanation.

"Do you know why all of those human buildings are completely untouched?"

He shrugged.

"All the technology of human origin on this planet has a genetic lock so only humans can use it.

I imagine it was put in place to stop primitive cultures from using the researcher's own weapons against them. If I can find a significantly powerful enough weapon for you to use, I can force the other five 'gods' to bend the knee by using you as a threat. 

All the theology aside, my people will still respond first and foremost to shows of power. In that regard, whoever controls the human tech of this world is already the strongest."

She was getting really giddy now. Like a bond villain that was showing off their plan before the captive hero. Steve resisted the urge to role his eyes. He reminded himself that no matter how charismatic and attractive she may be, she was still a monomaniacal mad woman intent on world domination. World domination to stop an age of war, but still world domination.

"With human weaponry, I can establish the idea that I am a force without peer. I can assure you now; I won't be making the same mistakes at the humans who came before. No one's going to catch me with my pants down"

Steve ignored the bait. She knew full well she wasn't wearing any pants. She just wanted to tease him by bringing it up. It's amazing how much clearer you think with some food in you and a distinct lack of concussions.

He asked the next most obvious question, "So why have you decided to do this now?"

She was looking at him like he was stupid again. That really ticked him off considering he was giving her the benefit of the doubt that her motivations were altruistic. 

Steve may have been a pragmatic survivalist, but he was one with a conscience. When it was convenient. Which was admittedly rarely.

When Talia spoke again, it was defensively, "First of all it took a lot of investigation to find out the true state of the world, it's not like I knew all this stuff at birth, and it's been a long journey of self-discovery to wade through all the bullshit. 

Secondly you don't learn this sort of magic in a day; it takes a lot of subtle manipulation to set up a summoning from another world. 

Thirdly I had no reason to prior to now. Up until twenty or so years ago the world was at peace, and I was happy in my advisory role. Only recently have the people of Sapheros started taking the opening steps toward war and a return to the dark ages."

She looked off into space wistfully, likely remembering the simpler times of yesteryear. Steve did roll his eyes this time. She smacked him upside the head when she noticed. Coming from a person of her size that hurts. A lot.

"But before I can go off searching for mystical buried human weaponry with you, I need to cement my own powerbase within the tribe, a powerbase that I didn't have prior to a few months ago due to the fact that Michael was sucking up all the loose power for himself. It's only recently that I have started trying to build up my own support so I can take control of the tribe. This is a difficult task when I want to remain discreet.

That means I need to make sure someone with the same ideas as me, in other words any of the other five 'gods' don't stick a knife in you or kidnap you for their own plans in the meantime. So you need a bodyguard. Which brings us back to Sarah."

She quickly gave him directions to the training grounds. Steve was skeptical.

"Sure thing, I'll just waltz on out there with my dick hanging out. Fuck no, what's to stop someone from just walking up and 'claiming' me like just about anyone else who has spent five seconds in my company seems to do" 

He knew he wasn't following the 'endearment' plan with this approach, but fuck it. Politeness didn't seem to be a thing for this culture.

Talia didn't even seem to notice his tone. Now that she had said her part she seemed to be about to pass out. Evidently magic related exhaustion had a time delay; either that or she had been hiding her tiredness. None the less she slurred out some words.

"Just don't do anything stupid. Find Sarah, claim her, and bring her back. No one should bother you, because no one wants to piss me or Michael off. Were on a tight schedule. Get it done. Beware the females." With that said she rattled out some directions, before promptly hitting the floor with a thud. If it weren't for the fact she was snoring, Steve would have thought she just had a stroke and died.

Well shit. He had no shirt. No shoes. To top it all off he now had to walk into what was essentially an enemy camp, work magic on some loner, claim them somehow, and then make his way back to the tent. The hell 'did beware the females' mean anyway? He decided to take it literally. 

Oh well. If he was going to die he may as well get it over with. If Talia woke up and found he hadn't done anything, she may just cut her losses, as well as him, and summon a new person over. She certainly seemed ruthless enough to do it.

He eventually found the entrance to the tent. He carefully peaked round the edges. Sure enough he could see the half nude forms of the werewolves going about their business outside the tent. Their 'business' seemed to primarily consist of eating, talking, fighting or fucking for the adults. For the children it was just the first three. 

Evidently werewolf society was very open. 'How progressive' he thought, now he just hoped no one decided to share part of their culture with him.

Steve mustered his willpower. With sweat beading on his forehead and blood pounding in his ears, he stepped from the cool safety of the tents threshold. 

All at one he felt the grass between his toes, the midday heat on his chest and the tightening of his sphincter between his ass cheeks. 

Nothing happened. The werewolves continued about their business, all the reaction he got was the occasional curious glance. 

Well, that was underwhelming. He set off at a brisk pace, nimbly walking around the gigantic tan bodies, eyes downcast. He followed the directions Talia had given him. Trying to navigate on the crowded 'streets' of the tent city with your eyes down was not an easy task.

He was however taking a small joy in the unfamiliarness of the small city. The new smells, sounds and weather, were all small joys to him. Though he would have given his left nut to be back in his flat in Cheshire, that didn't stop him from being able to appreciate the tactile sensation of being in a new environment. Even one that had a faint odor of piss. 

Sure enough he spotted out the corner of his eye a shaggy male taking a leak up against one of the huts walls. Territory marking.

As he walked he was certainly getting a lot of glances in his direction, but he could handle that. It was the getting beaten the crap out of that really put a damper on his day. It seemed he was in the minority in that regard. 

The werewolves around him were doing a range of things he would expect in a medieval society, talking, making spears, repairing roofs. Normal stuff, except with the slight exception that there seemed to be no gender divide, woman looked to be treated in the exact same was as men. That was good.

The things that did seem abnormal were the snarls and fights that occasionally broke out. It seemed if you had a disagreement, it was settled in combat, no exceptions. Men, women and children would spontaneously break into a snarling scratching mess. Even if this behavior put him on edge, it seemed none of the combatants seriously tried to harm one another, so he could still enjoy his stroll without too much apprehension.

He was almost at the sparring fields according to his mental map, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He felt claws digging into the flesh. Cautiously he started to move his eyes up to where the owner of the hand stood in front of him.

A tan female was holding him firmly in place. She was smaller than Talia, but still had a good few inches on Steve. She was topless and he could see white symbols all over her breasts. He didn't know what the symbols meant individually, but he could see that they were different from Michaels. That meant she was likely not a member of his pack who had come to collect early.

This was important. If the reactions of the other werewolves had been anything to go by, as a member of either Michael's or Talia's pack he was not to be approached lightly. Judging by the size of the female in front of him as well as the lack of scars, he guessed she was young and definitely not a pack leader.

He was beginning to wonder what would possibly possess her to approach him then, especially so aggressively. That's when he felt a pair of hard nipples press heavily against his chest, as she pushed herself up against him to pant lightly in his ear. Ah, that explained the warning.

She was planning on fucking him. Evidently the concept of screwing a demi-god was too hot to pass up, repercussions or not. He was tempted. No doubt about that. As evidenced by his hands unconsciously moving down to cup the ripe young wolf woman's ass cheeks, as well as his burgeoning erection pressed flush against her stomach. 

There was no denying his excitement, all the teasing by Talia as well as the soft nubile body pressed against his front had forced him into a tightly wound ball of lust. Unfortunately for the young werewolf in front of him, as well as his libido, he was also a hardcore survivalist.

If he let his lust get the better of him, it would only be a matter of time before more females with the same idea showed up for a piece of him. He would effectively be pinned in place. The longer he spent outside, the higher the chances of him either meeting Michael again, or getting involved in a violent confrontation given the 'passionate' nature of werewolf society. If he did get involved in a fight he would exposed as not having god like strength. Assuming he survived.

It was with all this in mind that he remorsefully pulled his head back and sighed. Before smashing his forehead into the young woman's nose, eliciting a wet squelch accompanied by a spray of hot red fluid being sprayed across his face. He shoved her roughly to the side as her grip on him loosened. He ran. 

He moved quickly. Years of practice running from brawls allowed him to slip through the crowded streets with ease. He felt bad of course; the young woman had likely only wanted some fun with a being believed to be the epitome of strength and thus breeding potential in werewolf society. 

Unfortunately, that also had a likelihood of indirectly making him dead. Her nose would recover, his mortal coil wouldn't. He continued running through the rows of huts and tents, not daring to look back. 

He was almost at the sparring grounds according to Talia's directions. He didn't even get a moment to pat himself on the back, before a shadow lunged at him out of his peripheral vision. He twisted his body mid step to let the clawed hand harmlessly fly past him. 

He risked a brief glance as he ran past to see that it was another young female. One with entirely different markings. The only thing she had in common symbols wise with the earlier one was a large circular symbol round her navel.

Her lunge having missed him, she had reoriented herself and was charging after him. The sight of her breasts bouncing in time with her steps would have thrilled him at any other time. As it stood, he was trying desperately not to crap in his loincloth as he bolted for the sparring field.

Quick glances to his left and right confirmed that more of the young women were closing in. He had a brief moment of insight into how it must feel to be a buck ambushed by a pack of wolves. He powered on desperately, trying to summon even a bit more speed from his burning legs.

He looked up as he rounded a corner. There was an obstacle in his path. One of the wolf women had managed to intercept him, and was now standing to block his way. Arms wide open, grinning obscenely. As he drew ever closer to her, he realized he would have to resort to desperate measures to get passed. He gripped the weighted buckle of the loincloth in one hand. He was about to use a move he had only ever been forced to resort to once before. He had been wearing a towel at that time.

When he was a mere few feet away, he ripped the loincloth from his body, flinging it straight into the werewolf's face. Her vision was blocked for the critical few seconds it took for him to dive past her and continue running. Leaving her howls of frustration, as well as his remaining dignity in his wake. 




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 02



He leaped through the gateway of the sparring fields, erection flying freely in the breeze. If he managed to survive today, he was pretty sure he was going to die of shame. 

He hit the ground and rolled so at maintain momentum. When he came up he tried to absorb his surroundings. It was pretty much what he expected; long rows of werewolves of both genders fighting armed or unarmed. The ages seemed to all vary as well. Training must start at an incredibly young age and continue until death.

The thing he didn't expect was for him to not be the only person sporting nothing other than an erection. A small number of the adult's spars had apparently degenerated into passionate love making.

By this point he should have appreciated the fine line between werewolf fucking and werewolf fighting, and that shows of power were like an aphrodisiac for the strength obsessed people. Alas his poor middle class English sensibilities refused to make that leap.

A few of the scenes he observed, looked to be out and out rape as sparring losers desperately attempted to fend off domination by the victor. He watched as one poor male was forced to the ground while a much larger female brought his shaft to life with rough hand movements, before impaling herself on its length. The sight was only a little bit arousing considering he was currently trying to avoid a similar fate.

He moved in the direction of his quarry. He had spotted her almost immediately on entry to the training area. She was pretty distinctive, a lanky tan female, sitting alone with her knees pulled up to her modest chest, a spear at her feet, assumedly waiting for a sparring partner. Considering there was no sweat on her he was pretty sure she hadn't managed to attract one all morning. It was a sad sight.

The second thing that set her apart was that she had no body paint. It was strange to see a werewolf without markings, considering how accustomed he had become to seeing it. It gave her an air of nakedness and vulnerability that he hadn't seen in a werewolf prior to now. It made him feel particularly awful as he prepared himself for his next move.

A well-aimed flying drop kick is an art form. It took Steve years of practice on unsuspecting chumps to get it perfect. It was his go to sucker punch in the event he didn't have a blunt object available. He could think of few other moves that had the same kind of impact that two feet with all the force of his body's momentum and weight could bring to bear. Which is why it was perfect for bringing down an unsuspecting opponent from behind, with maximum force.

Given that he only had about thirty seconds tops before his followers caught up with him, he needed to end this fast. It still wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling as he jumped into the air and brought both his legs up.

The person he assumed to be Sarah had only just started to turn around to see what all the noise was about when he had started his jump. That meant she took both feet full in the face. He felt a momentary spark of energy as Talia's magic activated, removing the seal on the poor girl. Yep, definitely his intended target. Good thing too or kicking someone in the face on the first meeting could have been awkward.

Steve winced as the curious expression on her face crumpled as she was sent flying across the dirt. 'Yep, I am officially a terrible person,' was all he could think as he hit the ground. He did however want to continue being a living person, terrible or not. He leaped to his feet and ran over to the dazed and prone Sarah. 

He had maybe twenty five seconds to force her to surrender, join his pack, and then have her fight his enemies with her newfound abilities. Or failing that, distract them while he saved his own skin and ran away. Either way, her day was about to get a lot more interesting.

He kicked her over so she lay on her back, before straddling her stomach, ignoring the fact that his erection was now comfortably sat in the small valley of her breasts. 

The sight of him on top of her should have been ridiculous, because despite her lack of curves she was the same size as a fully grown werewolf and thus much larger than him. 

He gave his best god voice as he sat on her. "Sarah Pack-less, as reward for your continued faith in the gods, I have invoked the rite of subjugation. I take you into my service. You will be both my sword and shield, and given power accordingly. Do you accept my claim to your life?"

Not exactly eloquent, but being chased by horny young females had not exactly done wonders for Steve's speech writing ability.

The speech had taken seven seconds or so. He was running out of time. He only hoped she was so shocked by a creature from myth suddenly leaping on her she would just accept his will. God knows he had done so in the exact same position with Michael last night.

There was a pause of several seconds or so. She was just looking at him with a terrified expression, blood leaking from a busted lip. Steve was about to give up on her and start running again, when she mutely nodded. He damn near kissed her. Instead he focused on saving his own skin.

He leaned in close to her ear to whisper to her. "Good, then make sure your first act as my servant is to defeat the people chasing me!"

He just managed to get the last syllable out before he was tackled from the side with a loud wumph, causing him and his assailant to fly off Sarah and roll a few feet in tangled combat before they came to a rest with his assailant straddling his chest and her hands pinning both his arms.

Low and behold it was the female he had head-butted in the nose. He could tell it was her because she was leaking blood onto his face. How was she the first one here? Was she the leader? Did she get first dibs? Seemed likely considering he couldn't see any of the others. 

Mind you, considering her breasts were being pressed into his face, he wasn't seeing much at all right now. He could however feel a warm fluid sensation spreading across his chest where her womanhood was grinding up and down against him. While he certainly enjoyed those two sensations, he didn't enjoy the claws that were digging painfully into his forearms.

He had to admit that this society certainly had a hard on for strong people and rape. Not a winning combination. Generally combos with rape in them rarely are.

If this continued on, it would be pretty clear to everyone present that he was not in fact an obscenely powerful space god, but just a regular guy. Considering Talia's plans, and thus his continued survival hinged on him remaining a mysterious being that was untouchable; getting raped by a small pack of young females was going to go a good way toward getting him killed. A fact his libido refused to fathom. 

He groaned slightly as the feelings of warmth spread further down his stomach, until eventually he could feel his dick nestled snugly into the tan werewolf's ass crack. The light stimulus of her fluffy tail lightly touching the head of his glans as it wagged back and forth was nearly sending him over the edge.

Focus. If this stopped now, he could just play it off as him having fun with the natives. If he actually got gang raped, it would be him being dominated by the natives. Small line, big difference. 

He prayed to god Sarah was doing something, as opposed to being frozen in shock. As his servant, as of ten seconds ago, it was her duty to defend him. From an entire pack of attackers. With magical fighting abilities. Magical fighting abilities she didn't even know she had. After a lifetime of thinking herself weak. Yeah, he knew he was screwed in just about every sense of the word.

It was time to save his own ass. Somehow. With the rest of his body immobilized, he really only had his mouth left as an offensive weapon. It wouldn't be the first time he had resorted to biting in a grapple, even if he did hate being forced to do so. Slowly he brought his mouth to the nearest most sensitive part of his assailant's body. The wolf girl's nipple. 

The wolf girl up until this point had been entirely focused on rubbing her cunt up against him. So when the unexpected pleasurable feelings of him sucking her nipple started, she didn't even think of anything other than grinding it further onto new sensation. To her mind the demi-god was finally getting into the mood.

This was the tricky part. Even if Steve was effectively being raped, he recognized that with right and wrong being for the most part decided by the majority, the girl was not technically wrong in her actions according to her own culture. Thus he really didn't want to cause serious harm. Like ripping her poor nipple off. He got ready to moderate his bite...

...or at least he would have had the lovely nub not been pulled from his mouth by an audible pop, accompanied by a loud thwack. The weight on his chest and arms was immediately removed.

Sarah stood over him; spear casually swung over one shoulder. It had taken him a second or two to recognize her. All over her body were the same white symbols that adorned himself. Well most of himself, some of the ones on his chest were likely pretty smudged by now. Talia had evidently set the symbols to appear on Sarah's fur when he made contact. Showoff.

Sarah reached down with a steady confidence and yanked him to his feet by his forearm. As he surveyed his surroundings he took note of all the whimpering female bodies strewn around the clearing. Hopefully all alive. Some apparently unconscious. Most were bleeding.

"Ah, so that's where the rest of my little train of followers got to." Steve said to himself more than anyone. He was very aware of the fact that the person who was responsible for this ridiculous amount of bodily injury was standing right next to him. She was also the same person he had dropkicked bare minutes before. Sudden oaths of loyalty or not, he felt a faint quaking in his legs.

She had casually placed the blood splattered spear over her shoulders, and was looking down on her defeated opponents with pride. A massive difference to the meek girl he had straddled just minutes ago.

She was practically beaming at him. A sound distinctly similar to a purr was also issuing forth from her throat. A strange sound indeed, coming from a wolf woman. 

She spoke with a casual huskiness, "Indeed master, I used the new gifts of strength and speed you gave me to dispatch the lowly vermin. When I finished, I had intended to let you dispatch your own opponent, however it seemed you intended to breed with her instead." Steve blushed at that misunderstanding. It made a convenient excuse to hide his weakness though, so he let it stand. 

He was also slightly unnerved by the instant subservience. He could only put it down to Sarah being raised in a culture where sudden enslavement was an accepted everyday occurrence. 

Cultural dissonance was some annoying shit when it came to understanding people's behavior. 

It also probably helped that he was effectively a god in the eyes of his new servant. A god that had just saved her from a lifetime on the bottom of the social ladder. 

Sarah leaned in uncomfortably close as she continued. He could smell the faint metallic tang of blood on her, "I do not wish to consider myself too forward, but your attentions would have been wasted on one of those bottom feeders. If you wish to mate, I advise you choose a mate worthy of bearing your noble bloodline." 

Yep, she was definitely much too close now. He could feel the heat emanating from her body as she brushed against him.

"I'm sure you simply misunderstood that here on mortal ground not all around you are worthy of bearing your seed. That is why I intervened."

She casually moved round his back, and pressed herself against him. Steve could feel her modest breast pushing up against his shoulder blades. Two of her long limbed arms snaked out from the crux of his arms; hands protectively cupping themselves over his erection, long fingers possessively tightening around the shaft and head, as if to guard it from defilers.

She was whispering hotly into his ear now, "As your servant, I will ensure that none who are not worthy may mate with you. If you feel this is a strain on your body, I can always assist you with... relief." As if to illustrate her point, the tips of her fingers began sliding up and down his shaft, causing him to arch his back and groan slightly. As he felt himself pressing into her, she licked at his neck affectionately.

She spoke between licks, "In fact, if I may be so forward, with the gifts you have given me, I would be an ideal mate to begin your bloodline on this world." Steve thought that she was certainly being... forward. 

Evidently a lifetime at the bottom of the dog pile had not damaged her self-worth enough to think her worthy of mating a god. Either that or destroying a small crowd of her peers on top of being chosen as champion of a god had increased her pride in herself substantially. He would find out later, right now he had bigger issues.

Right now Steve was in trouble. He really needed to get Sarah out of here and back to Talia's tent in case Michael or one of his pack members decided to show up. He had to get her moving. 

Not that he wasn't enjoying this whole 'domineering servant' routine; he just wanted to ensure he lived long enough to enjoy it a second time.

"Hey... Sarah, that's good and all but we really nee-" The hands on his groin began moving faster, cutting him off, as he groaned again. 

He felt faint vibrations on his back and neck as she let out a throaty chuckle. Yep, she was ignoring his opinions. He was pretty sure beating the crap out of people was a turn on for werewolves considering the level of debauchery going on in the sparring field, and Sarah had just delivered a smack down of epic proportions. She was now certainly horny enough to defy a god.

The main issue with his complaints was that her fingers felt really fucking good, and she knew it. After being teased for two days, even a survivalist can muster only so much self-control. Steve was after all only human. He gradually surrendered. Letting all the tension leave his body as he sank into the comfortable embrace of Sarah's ministrations.

Feeling Steve relax, Sarah let out a satisfied grunt as she gradually let them both fall back into the brown dirt of the Training field. Leaving with him lying on top of her, his back pressed against her small chest and hard nipples.

The feeling of her rough pads was amazing as they ran over the sensitive skin of his shaft and glans. He felt her slowly bring her legs up until they wrapped around his own, spreading them both apart as she forced his hips into the air, aiming his erection like a rocket to the heavens.

He was completely immobilized in her embrace, as she lovingly pumped his shaft while licking around his neck and collarbone. 

Steve was noticing how different the tall tan woman felt to Talia. Where Talia was all smooth round femininity, Sarah was long limbs and angles. She was quite boyish in her features. Her fur was also different; it was much shorter and rougher. The bristly sensation wasn't unpleasant as it rubbed against his own skin, just different.

It wasn't long before he could feel his release building at the base of his dick. It seemed Sarah did too because she increased the speed of her pumping with one hand. The other began lightly squeezing and fondling his balls, as if she was trying to coax the maximum yield from him. 

Sure enough he quickly arched his back under the new stimulation, groaning as his orgasm forced his whole body to shake. Large globules of cum burst forth, flying high into the air, before splattering over his stomach and chest in a warm gooey pile. He could barely move an inch as Sarah's long legs and arms held him tightly in place as she continued to milk him for all he was worth, coaxing every last drop out of his balls. She was chuckling in delight as she did it. 

He let his orgasm run its course, involuntary shudders racking his body as she held him tight against her. 

When he was finally spent, she released her hold on him. Her hands moved to his chest, casually smearing his discharge all over her hands and his body as she played with it. Steve was too busy enjoying the afterglow to care.

-------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't know how long he lay there enjoying her warm body on his back, and the feeling of her busy hands on his front. He did however eventually come to his senses when a female walked past his peripheral vision.

It was at that point he remembered that he was in public. Someone had just jacked him off in public. Someone was smearing his own juices over his chest in public. 

Werewolf society may be open-minded about this sort of thing, but Steven Smith was born and raised in Cheshire. You don't jack nude people off in public in the middle of Cheshire. For one thing it's much too cold.

He shot up like a start. Sarah sighed in disappointment behind him. Steve could care less. They had to get back to Talia's tent.

"Sarah, get up. We're going to the oracles tent."

He hoped that sounded authoritarian. Especially when he was nude and covered in semen. He didn't know how Talia did it. Sure enough though, Sarah shot up, spear in hand. 

As he began to walk back to the entrance of the training grounds, he checked to ensure she was following. She swaggered two steps behind him, eying everyone around who came close to him.

It seemed she had taken the 'sword and shield' thing to heart. Talia certainly knew the correct way to make someone willing to serve. Just take away from them everything in secret, and then give it back again. Steve was as impressed with her plans effectiveness as he was uncomfortable with it.

They made their way through the streets of the hut city unmolested. It would seem words of his 'miracle' had spread ahead of them. No one was willing to look him or Sarah in the eyes. It seemed an entire group of assailants being wiped out single handed was not a common occurrence. Not exactly surprising considering the entirety of werewolf society seemed comprised of trained warriors.

Sarah had gone from a social pariah, to one of the most feared and desired creatures in the city in under an hour, and even better, it was clear she belonged to Steve. Everything had more or less gone as Talia predicted.

It made Steve glad to finally have a weapon he could call his own. He may have known next to nothing about Sarah as a person, but he could appreciate the safety she represented for him. He would treat her with respect for that alone. He was also hoping to enjoy more of the 'relief' she had offered earlier. 

Werewolf rites and rules certainly had advantages for people like him. People who were willing to do just about anything to secure their own place in the world. He wondered if Talia had been manipulating werewolf culture to just such an end over the last two hundred years. He would have ask her when he got chance. It seemed like the sort of thing she would do.

Eying the werewolf woman behind him, he admitted that she was certainly not beautiful in the unearthly sense of Talia. By werewolf standards she was physically very unfeminine. Talia had halted Sarah's secondary sexual characteristics from ever fully developing, which meant she had very small breasts and hips. Talia didn't want Sarah getting picked up by another tribe as a breeder in the time it took for her to summon Steve.

Steve was however attracted to all powerful women, breasts and hips were just a bonus, and with Sarah's newly acquired confidence in herself and powerful toned body she definitely fit his tastes. Her modest breasts and bony limbs only seemed to further propagate the image of her as a warrior. 

He wanted to know more about her. If she was going to be guarding his life, he would like to know her motivations and desires. It would help him ensure they didn't come into conflict with keeping him alive.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 03



Barren ground, smoke in the air, and heat that emanated upwards from the ground as well as the blackened skies above. Steve was pretty sure Talia had effectively sent him straight to hell considering the view from the carriage window.

This was the homeland of the Lizard-kin. It was a volcanic wasteland where anything that could have left had already done so years ago. The only exceptions were creatures that were singularly adapted for the environment, or too stubborn to leave. Steve had learned from Sarah that the Lizard-kin primarily fell into the second category.

Which he supposed was only possible because of the innate magic of the Lizard-kin's beliefs. The Lizard-kin believed their home wouldn't shatter beneath their feet, so it didn't. The fact that hope was the only thing keeping Steve safe from a natural disaster was not a great comfort for him, even if it had worked for the Lizard-kin for hundreds of years.

The whole thing felt entirely unnatural. Even if the group had been traveling for days, the biome should not have changed so greatly in such a relatively short distance. The only thing he could attribute it to was magic. 

If what Talia said about belief powering magic was true, then desire could likely also power it. In which case if the Lizard-kin on the whole wanted to live in a volcanic wasteland, the environment would eventually change until it conformed to their beliefs. The results of magical intervention seemed to be ingrained into just about every facet of this world. Steve was impressed that Talia had somehow managed to hide it for so long.

Thinking of Talia he remembered to curse her name for the hundredth or so time. She was the one responsible for his current miserable situation. He hadn't even gotten chance to hear her reasons before the Lizards had bundled him into their carriage, and left with all the haste they could muster, as if the werewolves' might change their mind and take him back. The last he had seen of Talia was her talking to her new house guest, Lord Valtek.

He had spent the first few hours of the trip in numb silence. It wasn't that he hadn't expected Talia to screw him over at some point; it just seemed pointless so early in the game, especially when she had bothered to get him a bodyguard for the trip. 

He had mulled it over and came to the conclusion that Talia was working an unseen angle, and he was unwittingly playing a role in it. He just had to hope that said angle didn't involve him dying in some elaborate scheme.

He took comfort in the steadfast presence of Sarah, who had apparently followed him during the 'envoy exchange', as if it was only natural for her to be beside him. She was walking calmly just outside his carriage's window, wearing what was effectively a tank top and shorts made of the same cream material the werewolf loincloths were, it made for a pleasant contrast with her dark tan fur. She acted completely immune to the oppressive heat; the only sign that it was affecting her were the darker sweat patches on her fur. 

It seemed that when going abroad for diplomatic work the werewolves consented to the bare minimum of clothing. She had her spear gripped firmly, and was watching the Lizard-kin escort just as much as she watched the horizon. Steve was pleased to see that her paranoia matched his own.

He had also come to the conclusion that she was also his only proof of Talia's continued goodwill. It made little sense to gift a bodyguard to someone you planned to have murdered, especially when said bodyguard was as talented as Sarah.

The carriage was being pulled along by a large reptilian quadruped that was wider than a horse but much lower to the ground; he assumed it made a much better alternative to horses in the volcanic environment. He was definitely sure that it wasn't herbivorous as a body that size wouldn't be able to graze enough to sustain itself in the harsh barren landscape of the Lizard-kin homeland. The thought of such a beast being used on the battlefield made him shudder.

The lizard-kin knights were impressive as well. The whole group was fully clad in dark grey plate male, each armed with a large round metal shield, a spear and a short sword sheaved at their belts. He was no tactician but he guessed that when in combat they linked shields together to form one large impenetrable metal hedgehog. He had the movie "300" to thank for his knowledge on ancient warfare, so it was also entirely possible they did something completely different.

The Lizard-kin were much the same in size and build as the werewolves, though they looked larger with all the armor. When he had seen them unarmored, when they made camp for the night, the whole group had dark red scales covering most of their body with the exception of their fronts. There the Lizard-kin had smaller black scales that ran from the base of their groin to their neck. 

He had also discovered that there were females amongst his guard in addition to Saltek. The only defining features he could use to separate the females and males, was that the females were slightly smaller, curvier in the hips, and in possession of breasts.

The lizard-kin knights were walking in a loose formation around the carriage with the exception of their leader. The red lizard woman was sitting across from him, ostensibly under the guise of keeping him company, though he was pretty sure she just didn't want to let her prize out of sight. 

He had seen the naked ambition on her face when she had laid eyes on him at their first meeting. It was comforting to him in a way; it let him know he was important enough to the Lizard-kin not to let him get killed off hand. It was harder to show off a dead servant of god than a live one.

She had been silent throughout the trip, her yellow reptilian eyes constantly on him. If she was trying to make him uncomfortable, she was succeeding. He was fully aware that given the 'promiscuous' nature of this planets inhabitants a rape attempt was entirely possible, and short of calling in Sarah, resulting in a lot of people killed, there would be pretty much nothing he could do to stop her if she did try something funny. 

He was gradually getting used to the concept that he was not only a 'pseudo-god' but also an object of sexual desire. It might have made him happy, if he didn't get the feeling he was cock with legs whenever anyone looked at him. He preferred it to 'walking lunch' but only just. 

It was sinking in for him that the only person who looked at him and saw him as a 'person' was Talia, and that was only because she added the phrase 'easily manipulated' to the front. He didn't mind pretending to be something he was not; it was just difficult when you realize that you're likely going to be hiding what you are for the rest of your life.

Saltek seemed to take his brooding as a sign she should finally began to speak.

"Divine one," She began tentatively. "I am honored to transport you to my homeland, I realize that we may not have met under ideal circumstances, but I want you to know that the Lizard-kin will be overjoyed to see the gods returning to the world." She bowed her head as she finished. 

Steve was stunned. She was actually being polite to him. Considering how everyone he had met in this world so far had treated him as a political tool or a sex toy, being treated like the deity he was pretending to be came as something of a shock. Callous disregard for the will of the gods must just have been a werewolf thing. This changed things. He could sense an opportunity.

"Saltek, was it?" She nodded eagerly. Steve now knew he either technically outranked her in terms of hierarchal importance, or she didn't care that he had ignored her title. "I have only been in the mortal world for a number of days. I was sent by the God of Soldiers to stand beside the werewolf tribe and guide them in these difficult times, however that first and foremost I am a soldier just like you. Please be as candid with me as you would any other warrior."

"As you wish, Divine one," Saltek excitedly squeaked. She had initially just seen the human as the means to a promotion, but now that she was sat in such close proximity with the deity, she could feel the raw power emanating from him. She had been overwhelmed at first, held in rapture by this legendary beings presence. He was now even deigning to speak with a lowly knight such as herself. She could barely believe her luck.

Steve could see the excitement, even on her unfamiliar reptilian features. If he wanted to maintain the upper hand, he had to strike now. He would use the same tricks Talia had used on him. 

"I must confess, I am not particularly familiar with this world, or the Lizard-kin. I would be most grateful to you Saltek if you could inform me on some of the specifics. "He soothingly placed one hand on her knee as he spoke. He would have unzipped his fly if he thought he could make it seem casual. He was entirely sure subtle seduction wouldn't be effective on this planet.

"What would you like to know...?" She said. He was sure if she was blushing, but being naturally red made it quite difficult to see. It would seem not just werewolves idealized the human form. The key difference here though was that she was showing respect, rather than jumping his bones. Though looking at her through new eyes, he wouldn't mind too much if she did. It might make things more than a little awkward though, being from opposing factions in a cross species incident and all.

"As envoy what will be expected of me when I arrive in the Lizard-kin homeland? I am a warrior, not a politician. I am unaccustomed to politics and intrigue" He smiled insinuatingly, as if he was confiding in her.

He realized this might put him on the back foot if she realized the extent of his ignorance, but considering he had no clue as to what he was to be doing it seemed a better idea to figure it out now. If Talia didn't like it she could give him a fucking briefing next time, rather than suddenly shipping him down river. 

"As envoy you will be primarily required to attend social functions and just generally be seen to represent the werewolf tribes. The actual negotiating will be done by my brother, Lord Saltek and the werewolf tribe leaders directly." Saltek spoke quickly, her eyes darting between his hand on her knee and him. Steve could see her eyes sparkling with lust and awe at his touch, but most importantly she wasn't really focusing on the conversation, which was what he had intended.

He had been right. The 'envoy' thing had been little more than an exchange of hostages to assure no foul moves by either party. Why would Talia do that? He could see no benefit to her from losing direct control over him. In fact it was the exact sort of thing she had claimed he would need to be protected against. He was now being placed straight into the hands of the Lizard-kin goddess.

"Ah," He spoke in an amused tone. "So I suppose my only job is just going to be to look pretty and dance for the aristocracy then?"

"No!" She shouted; a disconcertingly loud sound in the confines of the carriage. Her outrage immediately turned back into sheepishness again. "My people have waited for two hundred years for a return of the gods," she looked him in the eyes solemnly. "You will be very busy indeed over the course of the negotiations. Many factions amongst my people will seek to in some way gain your favor." 

"Even if I'm representing the werewolf tribes?" Steve was dubious.

"You may be representing the werewolf tribes, but first and foremost you are human," she began. "Your words will carry great weight. I imagine that is why you were chosen for this role. The pro-war faction will have a very hard time arguing against anything you say. You may be the werewolf's envoy, but you are still a god to my people and will be treated as such."

That was useful to know. Hell if this worked out he might just take the chance to change sides. The Lizard-kin evidently knew what it meant to have a class based culture and show respect for those they believed their 'betters'.

"It is good to know the Lizard-kin have such respect for the divine," Steve said.

"Oh yes," Saltek smiled. "You will find our homeland very much to your liking."

"Really?" Steve wasn't really paying attention at this point; he knew what he needed to know. He could finally relax marginally now that he knew he was out of immediate danger. Saltek continued on anyway.

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed. "I imagine there will be duels to earn the right to champion and host you from the second we arrive." Steve's muscles tensed at that. He had no issue with people fighting for the right to protect him, the problem was that his 'champion' may expect some kind of recompense for their services.

"I am sure knights the length and breadth of the land would fight to the last breath to be your host and guide," Saltek continued. 

Steve bloody well hoped not, if he got championed by a faction, he would de-facto be on their side. If he got championed by a faction with an agenda separate to the current war, it would make him enemies he sorely didn't want or need in addition to the 'pro-war faction'. He really didn't want to make his job more complicated than it already was.

He needed to ensure that his champion/host was a member of whichever faction was solely against going to war with the werewolves, and thus already nominally his ally. Forget relaxing, he needed information. Now.

"Saltek, would you be so kind as to inform me as to which faction is most in favor of continued peaceful relations with the werewolf tribes?" Steve asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"That would be without a doubt the Divine House. The Goddess has been trying to contain the growing resentment between the tribes for as long as the resentment has existed." Saltek stated, "It only seems to be in recent weeks that her voice has fallen silent on the matter. The pro-war factions have taken this as a sign of the inevitability of war with the werewolf tribes." 

Steve now had a name for his would be allies. He just needed to find out how to get in contact with them and accept them as his hosts, preferably before someone chopped someone else's head off in his name and made declining their protection awkward. He supposed he could send Sarah off ahead of him with the message, though he was loathe to let her, and her protection slip away from him.

He needed to know who his would be protectors owed their allegiances to. If he was right about the makeup of the Lizard-kin government, then they operated in the same way of the mediaeval fiefdoms of Europe, with a grouping of landed nobles owing allegiance to the Divine house in the form of taxes and troops. In which case the well-armed and armored troops of his guard must have been household guard of some sort. The question was, which house did they originate from?

"Saltek, I heard that you call your brother 'Lord' Valtek. Was he originally in charge of this diplomatic mission?" Steve queried.

"No, I was the one charged with leading this mission by the Goddess. My Brother only came along to give our party legitimacy with his ducal rank, and give the pro-war faction a representative." Saltek said. Her sudden loss of enthusiasm made this seem like a sore spot. 

Steve was thinking back and he sure he remembered Duke Valtek having a very different sigil on his armor when compared to Saltek's. He was confused by the fact that Saltek had the much more impressive armor when compared to the higher ranking Lord. He put it down to her being the 'leader' of the envoys.

"Ah, I hope you give me if I'm wrong but I was under the assumption that a Duke was higher ranking than a knight?" Steve said.

"You would be correct Divine One; however Duke Valtek accompanied us on negotiations as representative head of his own household as well as the other houses of the pro-war faction. I on the other hand am leader of this party as a representative of the Divine household and thus the Goddess's will. 

I have sworn my life in service to the Divine household, in doing so leaving behind all lingering attachments to my own house." Saltek, damn near snarled when mentioning her brother.

Steve thought he understood. Saltek had been sworn into service to the Goddess as a knight, much in the same capacity Sarah was to him. The likely result of that would be her being taken out of the line of succession for her own birth household.

Her brother on the other hand had remained a member of their own household, and now held the rank of Duke, having ascended to head of the family. 

This had the unfortunate side effect of putting the two siblings on different sides of the pro or anti werewolf war debate. Saltek was the Goddess's woman and Valtek was the pro-war factions chosen man.

"So, if I requested for the Divine Household to be my host and protector for the duration of the negotiations, you would be able to orchestrate that?" Steve said nonchalantly.

She turned to look at him as if she couldn't believe what she had heard. Her eyes were bulging as she exclaimed, "Of course Divine One, the Divine household would be honored to host you and provide you a champion for the duration of your visit but... I mean no disrespect, but are you sure you want that?"

Steve had no clue as to why he wouldn't want that; it was the most logical choice after all. 

Saltek must have understood his confusion as she continued, "It is considered normal for a dignitary to observe the champion's duels first, and then pick their host from whichever house the winning champion represents."

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. In other words the Lizard-kin idolized 'strength above all things' just as much as the werewolves, even if only in a more regulated fashion. He shuddered to think of the sort of political intrigue that took place in an environment where muscle made a better substitute than cunning.

He put on his best 'god' voice before speaking "Dame Saltek, I have with me a single bodyguard. I have a single bodyguard for one reason. I need to sleep. The rest of the time you may assume I am the single greatest threat to anyone in any given room. The time when I am sleeping you may assume my bodyguard is the single greatest threat to anyone in any given room. 

I can assure you that no matter which house I choose; that house will be the strongest house in all of Sapheros, because it will be associated with me. I choose the Divine House because they seem agreeable to me. Do not question my choices in this matter again Dame Saltek, are we clear?"


"Yes, of course Divine One" She nodded, obviously shaken by this sudden change in demeanor. He hoped she wouldn't take this as a sign not to bother protecting him. That would make for a very ironic death if something did happen to him.

Looking at her squirm he almost felt guilty, but it was a requirement that he was believed utterly invincible. He had taken that lesson from the previous human's fate. 

If he showed any signs of weakness he would be devoured by this world instantly. If he was going to be treated as an all-powerful deity he had to start acting like one. Hopefully Saltek would spread this little talk around the guards that were with them. His actions would also stop any awkward questions anyone might be thinking of asking.

"Good, I hope we can enjoy the rest of the trip together then Saltek," Steve said slipping back into his pleasant demeanor.

-------------

The next few days of the trip were pleasant enough. If you considered blazing temperatures and the constant smell of smoke to be pleasant. Steve didn't. 

The Lizard-kin were perfectly happy in the insane environment, but Steve and Sarah were suffering, even if they would never admit it.

Steve would have asked Sarah to ride in the relative cool of the carriage as opposed to walking beside it in full view of the sun, except he felt much more secure with her in a position where she could observe any threat and immediately remove it with extreme prejudice. 




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 03



She didn't seem to mind suffering for his safety, so who was he to stand in the way of her duties. The unfortunate side effect of Sarah being outside the carriage meant that he had been effectively trapped in the carriage with Saltek.

He did in fact quite like the Lizard woman. She made for easy conversation once she finally got over the fact that he was a god on earth. She was still obviously worried about offending him, but had gotten a lot more comfortable with being around him. She was a treasure trove of information about Lizard culture and Steve was glad for her company. Most of the time.

The kink in their relationship had started around the third day of the trip when they were clearly deep within Lizard-kin territory, which was to say there were now roads and the occasional sign amid the volcanic wasteland. 

He had awoken from another night of uncomfortable sleep in the carriage, to find Saltek sitting across from him wearing little more than a leather one piece that exposed a scandalous amount of scale; he had assumed this is what had been beneath the metal plating she had been wearing prior to now. 

He had spent a second or two marveling at the small soft scales of her stomach and chest. The scales were a dark enough red that they were almost black in the dim light. He immediately felt a surge of blood to his nether regions, which made him question the hair trigger nature of his current libido, before he enquired as to the reason for Saltek's current state of relative undress. She had calmly responded by telling him that because the armor her and her escorts were using was primarily ceremonial, they wished to avoid damaging it in the swirling dusts of their homeland. 

A quick check confirmed that indeed the warriors surrounding the carriage were wearing little more than a leather loincloth; he also discovered that two of the females wearing the same leather garb Saltek was wearing. He made a quick check of Sarah, but she was steadfastly still wearing the ensemble that covered her chest and groin. 

He would like to say it was him thinking of her appearance when they finally reached the Lizard-kin capital, but in truth he was simply feeling absurdly possessive of his bodyguard. He was only human and she was his only ally. It was a dumb thought that seemed out of place with his usual thought processes.

He sat back down and unsuccessfully tried to ignore Saltek's obvious womanly assets that were in such close proximity.

Steve had thus spent the last three days of the trip trying to ignore the glorious soft bounce of Saltek's breasts, and ignoring his own unnaturally strong desire for her. It would seem the adaptability of his libido was endless when it came to alien fetishes. 

He honestly felt a fool trying to hide an erection through his thin pants for damn near three days straight. He knew it wasn't normal for him to be this aroused by a simple pair of breasts, even if they were pleasantly proportioned to snugly fit his hands if he would only grasp them. If anything a three day long erection should prompt medical examination.

It was entirely possible that the beliefs of the peoples of this world were affecting his body to make it fit better with their own image of humanity. 

His muscle tone had been steadily increasing, on top of his libido, in spite of the fact that he had done next to exercise. Steve wasn't beefcake by any stretch of the imagination, but any of the shreds of fat on him were rapidly becoming muscle. If this transformation continued he was going to be one wiry bastard. 

He had also quietly discovered his genitals had been expanding in size as well. It made him a bit worried as to just how obsessed with breeding potential his adoptive peoples were. He would very soon be on par with Michael in terms of size if the transformation continued; hopefully it would stop once he hit the werewolf 'idealized' size. 

He was far from comfortable with his body being altered without his consent, not to mention the possibility his mind being affected as well, but then again as with just about anything that happened to him these days there wasn't much he could do about it.

Saltek knew the effect she was having on him. Even if she was awed by his presence, she was the negotiator for the Lizard-kin envoy, so she was pretty adept at reading people. In three days she had most definitely noticed Steve's erection and arousal. 

She was at first embarrassed, which had made for a wonderfully awkward atmosphere in the tight confines of the carriage. The second day though lust had gradually begun burning in her eyes as it eroded any embarrassment. It gradually occurred to her that there was a once in a life time opportunity here. If his bodyguard wasn't watching intently from outside the window she might have jumped the Divine One already. She would have to be patient for now.

By the time night rolled around and the procession stopped to make camp Steve was a single careless movement away from jumping Saltek where she sat, consequences or not his unnatural arousal was driving him insane. The only thing keeping him in check were his old world sensibilities and honed survivalist attitude.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when Sarah spoke to him through the window "The warriors tell me there is a natural spring for bathing nearby; they would like to know if you or I wish to bathe, though if it is all the same to you Steve I would prefer to be clean when we reach the Lizard-kin capital."

Steve couldn't help but grin at Sarah's straightforward speech. It made for a pleasant contrast to the flowery speech he had been listening to for three days straight from Saltek. He nodded in agreement.

"Sure, though I was kind of hoping to get clean myself, so do you mind if I join you?"

He knew he didn't need to ask, but it helped to keep in the practice of pretending to care for other people's opinions. If he wasn't careful he might start actually believing himself a god, and that would likely end with him learning the hard way why he was not.

"I would be honored master." She grinned at him, evidently delighted at his response. He was pretty sure she knew the second they were away from prying eyes he was going to jump the first female thing he came across. She intended to be that first thing. She had seen him making eyes at the Lizard-kin for the last three days and did not understand why they had not mated already. Maybe the Lizard-kin were all as frigid as she had heard.

"Will you be joining us, Dame Saltek?" He asked as he stepped out of the carriage into the warm night air. He was half hoping she said no, but if she said yes it might open a window to a much more interesting scenario. 

In the back of his mind he still wanted to know why a reptile would have breasts. It wasn't his primary reason for wanting to get the red knight in the nude, but it was an anomaly that still struck him as odd.

"I am content. I will wait here until you have finished" Saltek bowed solemnly to him as she spoke. The look of disappointment on Sarah's face at her refusal was as obvious as it was unexpected. Did his bodyguard want him to get it on with the Dame?

He supposed from Sarah's 'sex means dominance' perspective it made sense. She would likely see it as him getting an upper hand in the negotiations. If Steve was going to live on this world he realized he was going to have to rethink his perspective on sex and what it meant.

He nodded to Saltek, and signaled for Sarah to lead the way to the springs. As he walked with her he noticed a few of their Lizard-kin guards lecherously observing Sarah's as she strutted, and more disconcertingly, he was getting a few lust filled glances himself, not just from the pair of Lizard-kin females in the group of guards, but the males as well. The whole strength equals attractiveness evidently did not discount same sex or interspecies attraction.

The whole ordeal left him conflicted. He was perfectly fine with homosexuality, but with himself as a target for the desire, he felt more than a little vulnerable to unwanted insertions. The second emotional conflict was in regards to his bodyguard. If sex was as important in this culture as it seemed, it was more than likely he would not have a monopoly on his bodyguard's body for very long.

He knew that it was a ridiculous double standard considering how open she was about him in regards to other women. The main crux of the matter was that Sarah was his only completely reliable ally in this strange world. He did not want to surrender her even slightly. It was possessive and petty considering the state of their relationship but it existed in his mind regardless. He decided to air his thoughts to her. It was one of the advantages of pretending to be a god from space; you could ask dumb questions.

"Sarah... If you were asked to mate by a powerful male aside from myself, would you accept?" He knew it sounded dumb, but he couldn't think of how else to phrase. The boundaries of their relationship were just too vague.

She kept walking, but seemed to ponder the question for a few moments before speaking. "I... do not know. In my life I have never been desired enough by a male for the question to arise before. I must admit that with my newfound ability, I am... pleased with the attention I have been receiving. To answer your question, should I find myself propositioned by a male I would seek your permission before I answered."

"And if I said no?" Steve was observing her passive face as he waited for her response.

"I would accept it as you're will, and decline any propositions aimed at myself until such time as you changed your mind." She shrugged as she spoke, as if it was a matter of minor importance. To her mind it might well be, but Steve doubted it. He knew her society had no concept of marriage, and from what he had seen he seriously doubted any of them swore themselves to celibacy.

Sexuality was an important part of her people's culture, and to be denied her right to explore her own, especially now that males would be essentially flinging themselves at her, would no doubt become a source of irritation for his bodyguard. It still sent a surge of relief through him regardless, to hear her be willing to accept his ridiculous request. 

He knew it was unfair, but he would monopolize her for now regardless. Maybe when he was more secure in his position and not so reliant on her for protection he would release her to explore her sexuality for herself, until then though Sarah was his and his alone. He couldn't shake the feeling that this domineering behavior was not in line with his own somewhat warped moral guidelines. 

He had no doubt he would end up sleeping with a lot of women over the course of this misadventure, but he was asking Sarah to avoid doing the same. He may have been a dirty lying coward who was an expert in kicking people whenever they were down, but he had never believed himself a hypocrite. 

It really shouldn't have bothered him so much considering he would sell Sarah out in a second to save his own skin if they were in danger, but 'using other people to protect yourself' and 'abusing your position to impede their personal freedoms', well they were two separate moral quandaries in his mind.

"Ok then, until such time as I say so you are mine and mine alone." Sarah simply nodded and continued walking. He felt a scumbag. A godly scumbag with a hard on, but still scumbag.

The trip to the spring didn't take long. Sarah confidently led him through the moonlit night until Steve could see the steam rising from behind a small ridge in front of him. He could hear the light bubbling of the water, which made him think of those natural spas that occur in countries with lots of tectonic activity. 

As he stood over the ridge, he could see the great expanse of water bubbling below him, it was easily larger than the local indoor pool back home, and could probably fit their entire party five times over with room to spare. His bodyguard stepped toward the bubbling water, lifting her cream top over her head exposing her modest breasts to the world, before she slipped out of her shorts and kicked them into a pile.

Steve wanted to tackle her into the water there and then, but instead he chose to take his time, choosing to admire her athletic form as she stepped into the warm water, as well as ensuring that if the water had some kind of hot water shark, she would discover it. 

He took off his own clothes, nearly shaking with anticipation. He could feel a burning in his loins that seemed degrees beyond conventional arousal. It almost frightened him. 

He could feel his control over himself slipping away from him, even as he desperately tried to fight the losing battle. As Steve began to feel his body move toward Sarah, as if on autopilot and he a mere observer, he began to wonder if this was this world's magic affecting his mind, and if it was, how could he possibly fight it? 

He was beginning to realize just how much of a threat the beliefs of this world could be, not only to his body, but his sanity as well.

Sarah stood in the warm water, enjoying the relaxing sensations of heat on her aching calves. Days of travel were taking their toll on her and she was glad to have a moment to relax. She was about sink down into the pleasant warmth when she heard Steve step into the water behind her. 

She shuddered as she instantly felt her master press himself against fur of her back, his hands moving to cup her breasts, massaging them lightly before tweaking her small nipples, eliciting a hungry moan from her as she pressed herself back into him. The similarities with the events of their first sexual encounter were not lost on her.

She could feel his face pressing between her shoulder blades as he inhaled deeply, savoring her scent; a musky combination of sweat, fur and arousal. His manhood forced its way between the cheeks of her ass until she could feel its heat rubbing against the round ring of her anus.

"Down." He commanded as he moved around her front, lightly pushing her until her back was pressed against the rim of the pool, her body half submerged, one of his hands heavy on her chest.

Steve enjoyed the feeling of control through the foggy haze of his consciousness, as Sarah was pinned beneath him, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. He pinched one pink nipple between thumb and forefinger, savoring the throaty moans he elicited with each tweak. He was going to take his time and devour his guardian completely. By the time the night was through she would belong to her god in body as well as mind.

Steve could feel an animal need to dominate building within him. It didn't seem entirely part of his own mind as he slipped deeper into the hazy state of mind that could only focus on one thing; the need to completely own the woman beneath him. 

He moved his hands up Sarah's damp chest until he was holding the sides of her head, before gently pushing her down on her, until her lithe form was mostly submerged and she was face to facing with his raging manhood. Sarah could only watch as his cock bobbed up and down in front of her. 

The leaking head of his tool was almost touching her nose, the musky smell of his pre-cum completely overpowering her sensitive sense of smell, leaving her lightheaded as the musk of it invaded her senses. 

Sarah breathed deeply, inhaling more of its heady aroma, causing Steve to shudder with delight as she rubbed her wet nose along it from base to tip, leaving him groaning from the light touches of her snout on his shaft and glans. The light tickling of her fur and the cold contrast of her nose with the heat of his cock felt strange, but pleasant. 

The rough pads of her hand rubbed against his leg as she moved it up to grip the base of his shaft, enjoying one last waft of its scent before she started to pump his girth. Steve watched and groaned as she grinned up at him, fangs white in the moonlight. 

She looked into his eyes, before opening her mouth to expose her razor sharp teeth and large rough tongue before swallowing his manhood into the wet heat of her mouth, angling his dick upwards and rubbing her tongue along the underside of his shaft. Steve watched contentedly as his bodyguard submissively serviced his length with her mouth, enjoying the sensation of dominance over the powerful female. 

She moved her head up and down his shaft, bathing it in her warm saliva as she lovingly caressed every inch with long slow licks of her tongue, slathering it with more of her slimy juices. 

She could taste his pre-cum as it oozed out of the tip in a steady stream, her tongue lapping away at the salty beads whenever they presented themselves. Steve's groans were making her flush with pride at the pleasure she was bestowing on him, enjoying the feeling of being of use to her master.

Steve looked back down at her as he began to move his hips, thrusting slowly into her eager mouth. Sarah gagged as he slowly pushed his way to the back of her throat, causing her throat to convulse around the invading organ before he pulled back, leaving her coughing and long strands of saliva maintaining her lips connection to his pulsing manhood. She drew in a ragged breath before returning her lips to their task, swallowing his cock into her throat an inch at a time, feeling every vein as it gradually made its way once again to the back of her throat.

She could barely move her tongue as it remained pinned to the bottom of her mouth by the girth of the member that was entering her. She could feel the smooth texture of the shaft as it ground its way onwards deeper into her. She could feel its intense heat through her mouth and throat as it drove into her. She relaxed her throat as it bulged in her neck, the length of him completely enveloped in her maw.

Sarah's lips were locked around his shaft. His cock glistening with her drool as it sawed in and out of her soft throat, sliding across the soft wet membrane of her insides as she deep throated his entire length. Droopy strands of saliva slipped from between her lips as she took him into the deepest part of her as he kept grinding in and out of her willing form.

Steve couldn't believe how amazing she felt as she willing swallowed his entire length. The feeling of her soft throat milking his cock was all encompassing, as he moved in and out of her drooling lips. He could feel his climax building deep within his balls, before bursting upwards through his shaft, rendering him completely rigid as he could only focus on pouring his cum down Sarah's throat and into her stomach. 

She could feel the contents of his balls streamed down her throat and filling her stomach with the milky substance. They both remained perfectly still as he squirted his seed into her, and she accepted it utterly. Only when he was utterly spent did he slide his slimy member out of her to let her slide in a heaving pile backwards onto the rim of the pool. She lay panting, streaked with sweat from the heat of the pool as well as their exertions.

Steve felt a momentary satisfaction from his release. The feelings of lust didn't dissipate for more than a few moments though, rather the sight of her carelessly open legs before him gave new steel to his rigid member. He could barely think straight as the unnatural lust completely overwhelmed his senses.

Steve's chest rise and fell with his increasing arousal, and his cock dripped hot pre-cum into the water below him as he scrambled up the side of the ridge and collapsed on top of the prone Sarah, the soft fur of her front pleasantly pressing into his chest. Sarah could only moan as he began savagely licking at her hard nipples, his rock hard member lightly teasing her moist outer lips as he slid his hard flat stomach over hers.

She could feel excitement building within her as the preparation for mating began in earnest. She was going to lose her virginity to the hungry godlike being who now owned her completely. It was the sort of thing most young werewolves could only dream of. 




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 03



Sarah dug her claws into the meat of his back, raking long bloody furrows as she wrapped her long limbs around him, trapping his heated form against her own lithe furry body.

Sarah whimpered as she -felt him pressing and rubbing against her slit. She bit down into his shoulder, letting a soft dribble of blood smear the pair of them, adding yet more crimson to the long streaks on his back and her limbs. She let out muffled whines as his virile member pushed against her moist orifice, his pre-cum mixing with her vaginal juices as he teased at her opening, utterly heedless of the clawing his body was experiencing.

Steve held at the entrance a moment longer, before savagely slamming his dick forwards; driving into her previously untouched depths and forcing her labia lips to stretch tightly around the base of his shaft. He howled high into the sky with his conquest.

Sarah felt her mouth open without a sound, unable to even force air out of her lungs as she became completely rigid; paralyzed by the feelings blazing along her nerves as his cock slipped deeper into her tight cunt, her vaginal walls being forced open before its girth before stopping halfway, allowing Sarah to grow accustomed to him. The pair of them remained that way a time, the bubbling of the spa being the only sounds that filled the air.

Steve grunted as he pulled his hips back, sliding his cock out of her. Sarah could only let out pleasured whimpers as his length slid across the nerves of her cunt. He pulled out until just his head was pressed into her warm opening. 

He grabbed her bony hips with both hands before driving himself into her body once more. She howled long and loud into the air this time, as he impaled her on his length; pain and pleasure mingling as he pushed into places that prior to tonight had never before been touched. 

He drove into her again and again, forcing his way deeper each time. It wasn't long before the swollen head was battering at her cervix. He and she both groaned at the new sensations as he repeatedly hammered at the entrance of her womb.

Sarah shook under him, the hot dusty floor grinding into her back as she was forced down with each maddened thrust, her small breasts mashed into his smooth chest, their flat stomachs sliding against one another as the pair ground into each other.

She let out a howl, before biting into his shoulder once more as an orgasm ripped through her, her claws creating more red slashes on his back as she clutched onto him, pleasure blasting down her arched back. 

Steve didn't even seem to notice as he continued to relentlessly pound into her hot cunt. He could think of nothing more than driving into the deepest part of her, planting his seed and claiming her as his own. It was an animalistic passion that swept away all other thought.

He found himself biting into Sarah's throat as he slammed his hips into her; biting down just hard enough to immobilize her but not draw blood. He grabbed her hands with his own and forced them above her head so that she was completely prostrate before him. 

He could hear the rhythmic slap of his hips striking hers accompanied by her howls and moans as she lay completely helpless beneath him. She came again and again as he moved his hips in a haze of carnal lust, devoid of any rational though besides fertilizing the nubile female beneath him. 

The powerful woman was powerless beneath his thrusting hips as he fucked her as hard as he could, grunting and growling with his exertions. He enjoyed the pleasant warm sensation of her quivering form beneath him as another orgasm hit her. 

Sarah's pussy was now leaking fluids with each movement, letting it stream down the crack of her ass and onto the dusty ground as his cock drove in and out of her. Their bodies were slick with sweat, both their eyes glazed over and their muscles were sore from the constant tempo of the grind. Sarah could only pant and occasionally whimper when an orgasm hit her, as he tirelessly rutted into her.

Steve didn't know how long he had been grinding into Sarah's inert form before he felt his own climax building. The pressure in his dick became overwhelming as he finally ground his cock into Sarah's cervix as hard as he could, her hips rising as his feet dug into the floor for better purchase and drove his erupting dick ever harder into her. 

Sarah could only let out a long hoarse moan as she felt his hot jizz pouring out of him and into her fertile womb. A puddle of creamy hot cum was already pooling round her ass where she was overflowing into the ground.

Steve remained utterly rigid while he sprayed his load. Only when his ejaculation had turned into a slow dribble did he collapse exhausted onto her, his tired muscles and bleeding back shrieking in agony. 

He could feel control returning to his conscious mind, and while he could not say he had been fully in control of his actions for the entire duration of his spirited 'love making', he could not deny that it had felt amazing. 

Sarah was beneath him, also exhausted utterly, a strange thing since she was an incredibly fit individual and even sex as passionate or drawn out as that shouldn't have left her completely spent. The current state of her fatigue suggested to him that she was the one who had unconsciously cast the magic that had sent him into such a rut. It fell in line more or less with what he had seen with Talia.

Steve could feel unconsciousness seeping through him. He just enough time to idly hope he was collapsing from magic based or conventional exhaustion instead of blood loss before the darkness swept over him. 

------------

Steve awoke to the all too familiar rocking of the carriage. His head hurt and his limbs and back were sore. Remembering that he had gotten laid the night before didn't do much to soothe his mood considering he hadn't exactly been in the driving seat at the time, if anything he felt more than a little violated by his own loss of control.

He did take comfort in the fact that he had clothes on. The only abnormality he could feel with his dress sense was that his shirt was unbuttoned, open in the front, and he could feel something dry and smooth rubbing across his stomach. The smooth dry feeling was quite pleasant on his sweat soaked front.

He opened his eyes to find a yellow pair of reptilian ones staring back at him. The distance between them could have been estimated at about six inches. Saltek who was the owner of said eyes froze in surprise. Steve froze too as he realized that he was using her lap as a pillow.

The situation was made more awkward by the fact that she had apparently been the one 'investigating' the front of his chest and had been curiously running her hands over the muscles of his stomach, without his consent, prior to him opening his eyes. 

He would definitely have given consent if she had asked, but he most definitely objected to people taking liberties with his unconscious form. 

If there was going to be body touching between him and the lizard woman, it should be an equal exchange operation, even if only so he could find out why a lizard had breasts. He had to know! For Science!

"Morning Saltek" He croaked. He added 'sore throat' to the list of his physical ailments. It's hard to act smooth and in control when your throat feels like sand paper.

The Dame visibly blushed, a difficult task when you're naturally a shade of red, before hastily responding,

"Good morning Divine One, I was just checking the state of your injuries. Your wolf-kin guard said she had treated your wounds, but I felt I should double check! For Safety!" 

She turned to scowl out the window at something before she continued "I understand that the wolf-kin's love making can be damaging, so I felt I should personally ensure your recovery."

Ah, so she was scowling at Sarah. He felt that was hardly fair considering his evening with Sarah had been entirely consensual, at least from her perspective. Saltek's touching of his persons was most assuredly not.

He had to give her credit though; inappropriately touching an envoy of a foreign nation who also happened to be worshipped as a god, while they are unconscious, takes a certain amount of confidence, or failing that, blind lust. 

Steve may have gotten a sexual release from his time with Sarah last night, but Saltek was obviously still riding high on unfulfilled needs.

He would happily scratch that itch for the red scaled woman, wounds non-withstanding, if only he could be entirely sure that their wouldn't be long lasting repercussions. He had seen enough cheap fantasy to know to avoid the 'sex equals marriage' trope.

His body seemed to disagree, as he could feel his dick beginning to engorge as he was stimulated by the double sensations of the smell from Saltek's nearby and evidently slightly damp crotch. As well as the warm clawed hand that was still resting on his stomach. He made a quick note of the fact that her body was warm, yet another distinctly un-lizard like trait.

"Saltek, do you mind if I sit up?" He groaned.

Saltek stopped scowling out the window, as she turned back to him, embarrassment clear on her face.

"Of course Divine One, though with the injuries on your back, I think you will find remaining lying down far more comfortable."

Steve tried to sit up, but the searing agony that shot through his spine brought him round to Saltek's way of thinking. 

He did notice that he wasn't bandaged though, nor was his shirt damp with blood, which could only mean he had healed his 'love bites' unnaturally fast. It certainly wasn't Talia's magic because he was still in pain and far from fully healed. 

Were the Sapherosian's beliefs giving him increased healing ability? It seemed a natural addition to the increased muscle mass and 'vitality' he had displayed last night. Was it possible that eventually he might begin to develop god like ability akin to what the Sapherosian's expected in a godlike being. It would certainly be cool, did it not also run the risk of warping his mind into a megalomaniacal bastard at the same time.

"Ok then, I suppose I'll stay lying down." Not exactly godly behavior, but at this point there wasn't anything he could do about it. If Saltek asked, he would make up some bullshit about him trying to understand a mortal's plight. Yeah, that would fly, though looking at how flustered she was he doubted she was really thinking about his injuries so much as his prostate form. Score one point for blind faith in a higher power on top of thinking with your dick, or vagina in this case.

This seemed to be the trigger for Saltek to settle down. She sat back, and although her posture didn't scream 'relaxed' it certainly wasn't as tense as when he woke up. Steve couldn't help but note she hadn't moved her hand, though he was willing to let it slide as he quite liked the sensations it was creating, and by this point he had spent three days with a tent in his pants in Saltek's presence, so he had pretty much given up on pretending he didn't find her attractive. 

Steve didn't know if this apathy in regards to his arousal was a result of his own thinking or the influence this world was having on his thought processes. 

He desperately needed to find some way to protect himself from the magic's influences, preferably before he saw Talia again, as he had no idea how far in the future that may be or if she would even be willing to help. If he could get in contact with the Lizard-kin's Goddess, he might be able to get her to do something about it, hopefully without exposing his own vulnerability and lack of 'godly powers'.

"Saltek?"

"Yes, Divine One?"

"How far away from the Lizard-kin capital are we?"

"Provided there are no dust storms, we should reach Rykan before evening."

"Rykan eh?" So he now knew the name of the Lizard-kin capital and more importantly, they were finally there. This was not good. He could hardly walk into the capital with the injuries on his back. Well he might be able to if he focused really hard on not squealing as he walked, but considering his low tolerance for pain that would be a last resort. He could only hope that his increased healing ability was up to the task of putting him back on his feet before they arrived.

If it wasn't, he would use Sarah as a steed to make his entrance. It would appear marginally better than being carried on a stretcher and would be suitable payment for putting him in this position to begin with. Can't a werewolf have sex without putting their mate into the emergency room?

"Saltek, I think I'm going to go back to sleep now. You will inform me when we are within sight of Rykan."

"Of course Divine One."

Steve nodded contentedly before closing his eyes and going back to sleep. He still felt exhausted from his unnatural exertions the night before, and sleep claimed him before Saltek had even finished talking.

----------

Steve found himself being shaken awake by scaled hands on his shoulders. He groggily opened his eyes and sat up. He felt well rested and couldn't feel any of the aches he had been suffering from earlier. He could now officially confirm that he had a healing factor beyond that of anything that could occur naturally. It would have been a wonderful advantage if he planned to get himself wounded often. He did not plan to get wounded often; next time he hit the sack with a werewolf, he would be wearing body armor.

"Afternoon Saltek"

"Good afternoon, Divine One. I have awoken you as instructed."

With the formalities of his second awakening that day completed, Steve looked out the window. He was quite eager to see the Lizard-kin city, if only in the hope that it was at least more structurally impressive than the werewolf camp-city.

Rykan did not disappoint. The city was inside of a hollowed out mountain! 

The entrance to which he had missed during his slumber. Saltek had chosen to be entirely literal in her interpretation of his instructions. Lizard-kin were suddenly reminding him of Tolkien-esque dwarves. Weird.

The city was comprised of a series of open layers, each a few miles wide at least, that spanned upwards on top of one another until they reached the roof of the gigantic cavern, and they were all illuminated by a giant glowing crystal embedded in the mountains ceiling that shone like a second sun. 

The light was reflected with gigantic mirrors that were strategically placed around whole cavern until the place looked as if it was in the middle of the day on the surface. The whole thing seemed entirely structurally impossible, but like most things in this world he could likely put its feasibility down to magical influence. 

He was put in mind of a gigantic tree as he looked at the architectural wonder, with it being incredibly wide at the base, gradually thinning as it reached the middle, before branching back out again where it reached the ceiling.

The architecture all looked alien in design, like a single gigantic structure had been sliced open and had many smaller structures deposited in its inner layers. Steve couldn't even begin to guess at how complex the sewerage and ventilation systems would have to be for the behemoth to sustain life. The Lizard-kin must have taken their design methods from beehives, because that was the only type of structure he could think of that would inspire such a strange design. 

Now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that the lizard-kin did take their design plans from a race of sentient insects. Steve had no idea what the other species of this world consisted of, and this development would fit right in line with the madness he had gradually become accustomed to. 

The carriage continued onwards toward the cities gates. Steve could see the gates gave access to a number of spiraling walkways that wrapped round the very outer edge of the cities levels as it spiraled up, allowing access to the higher levels of the city without having to actually enter the cities itself. Steve was reminded of a busy highway as he watched the large amount of traffic navigating the peculiarly designed structure.

Steve looked to his guard and was surprised to see that at some point during his slumber they had re-armored themselves; he quickly looked round and found that while Saltek had neglected to do re-don her own armor, she was holding a short sword in one hand while sitting in the carriages confines. Was his escort expecting trouble in their own city? Not a good sign. His earlier thoughts about wits vs. strength came back with an ominous foreboding.

"Cease your advance unknown party! State your house and purpose in coming to Rykan." The challenge was bellowed by a Lizardman in leather and chainmail who stood in front of the massive gate to the cities 'highway'. 

He was significantly less armored than Steve's own escort; which suggested to Steve that plate male armor was less common than he had been led to believe. Either that or the diplomatic party had been expecting a fight when they set out to meet the werewolves. Probably a bit of both.

The lead most warrior of Steve's convoy pulled out a letter and passed it to the gate watchmen before speaking, "We represent the Divine House, and our business is our own... guardsman. Move aside and grant us passage." 

The guard's eyes widened as he read the letter. He glanced at the paper then back at Steve's escorts, homing in on where Steve was watching out the carriages window. The effect was instantaneous as he suddenly started shouting for the gates to be opened, before he jumped to the side of the road with his head bowed. 

Steve was again surprised by the massive difference in behavior the Lizard-kin presented when they became aware of him, and how the werewolves had behaved when he first arrived on Sapheros. 

Steve not for the first time wished he had been found by a Lizard-kin rather than the werewolves. He may have been fuckload more confused without Talia's explanations, but he would also have been subjected to a fuckload less rape attempts. Hopefully.

The guard kept his head bent in prayer along with his fellow guardsmen as the convoy moved through the open gates. Steve could get used to this kind of treatment, even if it was built on a lie. He had no issue with lying. It was the truth that usually bit him in the ass.

The carriage passed through the guards and began moving up the busy highway, which was full of interesting sights and sounds as Lizard-kin of various social classes hurried about their business. He could see massive amounts of food and metal being transported up and down the levels, no doubt carted into sustain a city that could never possibly feed itself. The walkway must have been the fastest way to get into and out of the cities various levels. 

The other Lizard-kin didn't even give the unmarked and guarded carriage a second glance, as it was one of many, the others though had flamboyant colors and proudly bore various symbols on their sides and guards uniforms. 

The Lizard-kin, a class based society, were quite willing to flaunt their social status and house, though Steve couldn't help but note that his own guard was easily the most armed and armored in spite of the fact they weren't showing any colors or symbols aside from the ones on Saltek's armor, which was now stashed away somewhere. The feeling of disquiet in his gut was steadily growing.

In any case, Steve couldn't help but admire the sights. The architecture put him in the mind set of ancient Rome, with pillars holding everything up, as well as nude statues of Lizard-kin in various states of action, covering just about every spare surface.

The great stone highway was an impressive construction, and from his position riding it, Steve could see into the layers that made up the actual city itself. The great pillars that comprised the outer walls of the mighty construct allowed him an easy view into the wide streets and houses of the city.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 04



Story contains elements of non-consent.

-----------

"Well fuck me sideways..."

Steve was understandably a little embarrassed by his sudden verbal announcements of his innermost thoughts; a life spent thinking one thing, and then saying another, made the very concept of just being completely honest with someone completely abhorrent to him. It also didn't help that he seemed completely incapable of turning off this wonderful internal/external dialogue. It was simply not possible for him to observe something and not have a snide internal commentary about how he would best use it, run from it or fuck it. A thought process that would likely get him killed in pretty short order if he continued. He immediately looked to the primary occupant of the room for answers.

Illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the skylight above her, she sat in a relaxed fashion atop a throne of solid marble that towered above the ground, otherwise the room was almost entirely bare. The room only had a throne, one door at the front and three at the back. What a waste of space. Steve would most definitely have added a few guards and a hunchback advisor with a goatee for extra 'I'm in charge points'. He turned a shade of crimson when he realized he had unwillingly vocalized said idea.

The Lizard-kin on throne was pure white. Where the other lizard-kin were black, she was an incredibly pale shade of blue. She was most definitely the Lizard-kin goddess. He hadn't come to that conclusion based on her position on the throne; he had labeled her a 'goddess' just from feeling alone. He had got the same tingly sensation when he met Talia, and the Lizard-kin was emitting it as well. She was also entirely nude. A definite 'all powerful being sign'. There was just something about the confidence of exposed genitals that makes an observer think 'god almighty'.

"Nudity is a running fashion amongst the goddesses of this world apparently." The words spewed forth from him before he was even aware he had been thinking them. He ignored the stunned looks Saltek and to a lesser extent Sarah were giving him and focused on his investigations. If he was going to understand, he had to observe, "For science..."

Her breasts were on display, and a marvelous and beautiful sight to behold they were. Their shape was perfectly sculpted, as if she had been carved to perfection from the same marble on which she sat. Two light blue nipples crowned the tips of her mounds.

"So they do have nipples..." He paused, "...For fucks sake." He was really getting annoyed at the vocalization of thoughts he wasn't even consciously thinking. The annoyance primarily stemmed from the fact that every time he opened his mouth he accidentally insulted his hostess, which didn't bother him personally, the reason it upset him was that it lowered his survival chances.

The white Lizard-kin was toned. She had a body that stopped halfway between Sarah's bony athleticism and Talia's voluminous motherly figure. If Steve was going to get his head lopped off for his rudeness he was at least going to die looking at something pretty. If Talia was the embodiment of motherhood and fertility, then the Lizard-kin goddess was the embodiment of health and vitality.

Steve looked up to meet her gaze, he wasn't worried about having been so obviously checking her out, it was just something that everyone did in this world, and Steve was quickly learning the meaning of 'when in Rome...'. The white Lizard-kin had been running her eyes over him as he had her, so it was at least an even trade. 

She was grinning in a fashion that reminded him of Talia, and not in a good way. It was the sort of look that says "I know things you don't know." Steve was not entirely sure he was about to be used for more political machinations that would result in the increased possibility of him coming to body harm.

"Shit," He groaned, only half unwillingly.

It was the bright yellow nature of her eye's that kept reminding him that he wasn't looking at Talia. The two goddesses felt incredibly similar to his senses despite the fact they were a completely different species.


"Welcome Steve, envoy of the Werewolf Tribes, I am Bridgett, Goddess of Navigation." The white Lizard-kin said boomed. She sounded quite happy. This was a good sign that she wasn't offended by his actions. Steve was glad for that, because he had no clue as to how to respond correctly in his official capacity as envoy, especially considering his earlier indiscretions. 

He wasn't even sure there was a polite way to move on from the words 'so they do have nipples.' He didn't get much longer to ponder his response before his mouth decided to move ahead of his mind.

"Sup, that chair looks really uncomfortable," He told her. "You're also really hot by the way. Just saying." ,Oh how he wanted to roll over and die just then, "Fuck you, head."

Steve had always thought himself to one degree or another a well-spoken gentleman, but he knew those words came from the heart. Someone was going to pay for shattering his carefully erected image of himself as a charming rogue.

Bridgett on the other hand looked like she was trying not to burst into giggles. He could pretty easily guess as to who was responsible for his sudden bout of truthfulness. 

He knew what this little charade was about; she was subtly making a point to him, right from their first meeting. She had the ability to destroy him with her magic and she wasn't afraid of him. It was basically a re-run of his first meeting with Michael, only a lot more subtle, and it hurt his pride a whole lot more. 

God he hated this world's way of making friends.

"Perhaps it would be best if we spoke alone Steven," Bridgett said. "I wouldn't want anyone to misinterpret our little jokes."

In other words she wanted to get rid of witnesses to their conversation, which would be fine with him, except for the fact that he would be completely defenseless without Sarah by his side. Unfortunately he wasn't really being given a choice, it was either do as she said, or he would completely destroy any faith Sarah and Saltek had in him with his truthfulness. He didn't even know if Sarah would be able to do anything against magic anyway.

"Sarah, would you wait outside for a moment?" She did not look happy with his request, but she mutely nodded before leaving with a confused Saltek in tow. 

The door had barely clicked shut before Bridgett leaped from the throne and was standing in front of Steve. Steve had to will himself not to take a half step back as she circled around him. He didn't choose to stand his ground to save his tattered pride, it was just that her close proximity meant he could head-butt her and run if he felt endangered enough to attempt such a suicidal course of action. It wasn't a great plan, but it was better than none.

"Steve I'm sure by now Talia has given you a rundown of the current reality of our status as 'goddesses'. I am not going to waste time playing games, I know who and what you are, and I can destroy you easily if you fail to do as I say."

Yep, he was screwed. He was saved the pain of having to vocalize that thought because whatever power had been working on him had stopped. He thanked god for small mercies. Bridgett continued on with her little 'I win' speech.

"I'm sure Talia took singular delight in explaining that she was the one who summoned you to our world. That is a lie, there were three of us who summoned you. Each for our own reasons. I don't care if you believe me or not, all that matters is that I have you by the balls and I have need of your services. If you do as I say I'm sure our relationship will be entirely pleasant." She turned to whisper in his ear.

"Im sure I can think of many uses for a young human male that will be entirely enjoyable for both of us," she cranked the smile up from 'grinning' to 'psycho smile'. "If you choose to defy me however, things will get incredibly unpleasant for you."

"I can assume Talia is aware of your plans for me?" Steve inquired. He was entirely sure that Talia wouldn't be willing to share her tool for world domination with two other goddesses who likely had the same ideas, abilities and power. He couldn't see how she could monopolize him with the other two breathing down her neck. He was now entirely sure Talia had been selective in what she told him, or outright lied.

"Of course, after all, all three of us have ownership of you; she has to share even if she doesn't want to, it actually worked out rather well, with you acting as envoy in my kingdom, Michael can't get his paws on you." Great, so he was part of a timeshare between three power-hungry gods, one of whom he had never met and he had no idea of which species she was. 

She rolled her eyes before continuing. "You don't need to be so upset; you get to stop a war between two races and save thousands of lives. A little bit of forced servitude in the name of a higher power isn't going to kill you. Probably."

"Right," Steve nodded feeling distinctly ill. "So what do you want me to do?"

"First... Strip."

Steve genuinely pondered if all creatures of Sapheros did all their thinking with what was between their legs. He grudgingly began unbuttoning his shirt.

Steve had been completely nude in the middle of a werewolf camp prior to now so this shouldn't have fazed him. Alas that had been in the spur of the moment, and now in the middle of an empty room with a single audience member who was completely rapt as she watched his every move, he was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

He had just pulled the shirt off and was in the process of unzipping his pants when she suddenly shrieked, "Stop!" 

Steve froze mid zip. He looked up to see that Bridgett had turned around and was staring very intently back at her throne, and basically anything that wasn't him. 

"That is enough," She said softly. Steve was relieved, and also a little irritated. He may have resented being treated like a walking penis, but he still did have a penis attached to him, and it was annoyed that the party had been interrupted before it had been allowed to make an appearance.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"That is enough, you are dismissed; Saltek will show you to your quarters." Bridgett glanced at him before sharply looking away.

Steve didn't know what to say. He put his clothes back on and moved to the door he came in through. Had he been tested? Had he failed? What the hell just happened? He simply groaned and hoped his room had a soft bed. 

He didn't plan to do any sleeping. He just had to find a suit of armor first to protect him from any raunchy goings on, and maybe a tin hat so he wouldn't go lust crazed again from accidental magic usage. He didn't think either of those things would properly protect him, but it was worth a shot.

-------------

Bridgett waited for the door to click shut before she squealed in delight. She could feel herself blushing as she thought over what had just occurred. She had spoken to a male! In the flesh! A human one at that! She had even got him to do what she said! 

Albeit she may have gotten embarrassed when he actually did strip, but that was to be expected. She was a refined lady after all. She would be much calmer next time.

She had been caught off guard anyway. She had prepared a set of armor for their first meeting, but the convoy had arrived way ahead of schedule. When the knock on the door came she had been in the middle of an experiment on new forging techniques in the back room, it was much more comfortable to go nude and feel the heat on her scales. 

She had barely enough time to wash off the soot in a nearby basin before climbing onto the throne and bidding the envoy entry. She hadn't even remembered that she was completely nude until she saw Steve and Saltek's eyes widen, the werewolf hadn't even batted an eye. Savage. The only thing she could do to distract him was turn on the absolute honesty magic. It had worked, but it had certainly made for an awkward first meeting. Nipples indeed...

Bridgett sat down on her throne. She was a proper lady and a goddess of the Lizard-kin people, and she would not lose her mind over the first male she met, even if he was her fated mate and they had met with her as naked as the day she was born. 

She had managed to get him under her thumb regardless; all of her research on werewolf subjugation had not been in vain. If his time amongst the werewolves had warped his views, then she would court him in their barbaric ways, and then re-educate him in civilized ways once he was hers alone. It was the perfect plan.

She had been completely surprised when Talia had contacted her with the plans to bring a human to their world. When she had thought about it later she decided Talia had likely chosen her and the other goddess because she didn't fear them enough to challenge her plans. A grave mistake on her part. Bridgett may have been a less vocal part of the pantheon of goddesses, but she was forged from the same steel as the rest of them.

Bridgett had always held an anti-war stance that the aggressive werewolf had likely decided was weakness. Bridgett chose not to fight pointless wars because she was patiently awaiting the moment to strike decisively, a moment that would soon be at hand. The Lizard-kin may not have been as numerous as the werewolf tribes, but they were infinitely better armed.

Talia may have had the upper hand by being the first come into contact with Steve, but Bridgett would inevitably be the one he chose to side with. At which point ruling over the other species of Sapheros would be child's play.

A lifetime stuck in this castle with only the occasional letter from dignitaries or banter with her female guards meant that she may not have been as worldly wise as her other godly sisters, but she had read more books and done more research than all of them combined. Her own country was significantly more technologically advanced than others, in large part due to her own discoveries. She may have had to bring in architects from the Insect Kingdoms to design parts of her capital city, but the rest of it was her own design.

Once she had a human mate by her side she would subjugate the other species and lead her world into a utopia of technological marvels. Her plan to do that was simple, she would seduce Steve, destroy the pro-war faction, and once it was time for him to be moved onto the third goddess, she would be secure in the knowledge that his heart belonged to her alone. While she may not have known exactly who the third goddess that cooperated in the summoning ritual was, she had her suspicions. 

She would have to send Saltek with him for protection. She certainly didn't trust the mangy mutt Talia had sent to accompany him. The mutt 'Sarah' had been staring at her most insolently the entire time she was in the room. She would need that dog to learn a lesson from its betters, and she had a few ideas as to how she might organize such a lesson.

For the moment though she needed to distract herself from the itching between her legs. A sparring session with the captain of the guard, followed by a 'servicing' from the poor woman when the captain inevitably lost...

-------------

Saltek and Sarah were predictably waiting outside. The pair looked at him intently, neither said anything, but he was entirely sure they were wondering as to why he had apparently lost his mind and started spouting gibberish. Steve didn't even have to think his response over. Ignore it until someone asked. The typical response of any male that knew he was in deep shit.

"Ah Saltek, would you mind showing me and Talia to our rooms. I would like to see where I will be staying. Could you also rustle up some armor after we arrive? I am just dying to inspect Lizard-kin craftsmanship up close."

Saltek paused, looked like she wanted to ask a question, then thought better of it. A decision Steve was incredibly thankful fo. The trio began moving down the halls deeper into the mansion. The trip didn't take long and before he knew it they were in front of their rooms, in what he assumed were the guest quarters.

He could only assume they were the guest quarters because he was pretty sure that the room had been a dining hall a few hours previously, and had been refitted in great haste when he had made it known he wished to stay with the Royal House. The hastily scratched out "Dining Hall" above the door led credence to his theory.

The Lizard-kin had evidently tried to hide the fact that the Royal House had no official guest quarters by grabbing the largest room they could and filling it with the most decadently pointless shiny crap possible, before finally shoving in a bed that was big enough to comfortably sit an elephant (Or Elephant-man) on it. For all Steve knew that may have been its original purpose. 

Steve found the massive gaudy room a bit distasteful and a criminal waste of space, but he wasn't going to show it. Never look a gift horse in the mouth... unless it's Greek. Fortunately the Lizard-kin were not Greek. He still let Sarah go in and check the place first. Assassins were not always kind enough to let you settle in before poking you with sharp things.

Once Sarah nodded Steve in, he great fully sank down on an armchair. Once he had cast off around eighty percent of its mass in sequined cushions. Sarah moved to stand by his side, like a loyal pit-bull. He often wondered if she got tired standing around all the time, but it would have been rude to ask when she was trying so hard to be the perfect guard. It was endearing in a creepily obsessive way. Steve liked creepy obsessive when it was followed by 'about his safety'.

The pair waited in companionable silence while Saltek wandered off to go get his armor. The armor was going to be his protection for when he was out in public, and in the bedroom. He seriously had no idea how werewolves might survive a sustained love making session. It might even be a trait to weed out the weak. Steve grimaced at the concept.

He was tempted to ask for a sword as well but eventually decided against it. If he actually had a weapon then people might assume he needed one to protect himself. He had no idea how to use a sword, and if any fighting did take place he would be much better off hiding behind Sarah pretending he was above the need to actually fight. 

He was in a peculiar situation where presenting himself as vulnerable as possible made him seem all the stronger for it. A sword was simply not an intelligent option for him. He was a bastard, a liar and a scoundrel, but most definitely not a warrior. He would play to his strengths.

He could likely get away with armor because it was part of Lizard-kin culture to wear it and he could pass it off as trying to fit in with the locals. He would have suggested Sarah get some as well, but he had seen the disdainful looks she had used whenever the word 'armor' was mentioned. Werewolves must have had a 'macho' no armor rule, and if she didn't want to wear it, he wouldn't make her. She knew best how to kick ass and take names, all he had to do was not intervene in her decisions in that regard. Her happiness correlated directly with his survival.

Saltek returned carrying a full set of plate mail. It was a really exquisite set of armor that Steve was entirely sure was worth a small fortune. It was even human sized, which came as a surprise. It was also entirely useless to him. 

He may have wanted armor, but he wanted to be able to run away even more, and plate mail was just too heavy and cumbersome. Also plate mail would have made acts of intimacy impractical, which was just plain not an option with his burgeoning libido. 

His priorities may not have been entirely wholesome, but they were practical. He had to acknowledge that his body was being affected by forces beyond his control and take measures to protect himself accordingly. He couldn't afford to be crippled every time the urge to mate overcame him. 




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 04



He might have just muzzled and put mittens on Sarah, or any other lovers he may have had, which certainly did seem kinky, but it would likely not go down as well as him simply wearing a leather jerkin to the bedroom. Hell, if his body kept on changing at the same rate it was, he may not even need armor eventually, though he was sure his mind would be long gone by that point.

"Saltek, do you have anything lighter? Something flexible perhaps?" Saltek pondered the question for a second before her face lit up and she scurried out. If Steve didn't know any better he would have thought her tale was wagging. Lizard-kin really loved armor. 

Sarah's barely perceptible scowl lessened even more so when he mentioned lighter armor. Werewolves really hated clothes. To think the two species didn't get along, he couldn't possible fathom why.

Saltek eventually barged back in carrying what looked like a black diving suit and a black knight's helm. The two pieces looked incredibly out of place when combined; a mixture of old world tech with what was obviously modern or above materials. The knights helm had a red plume and a particularly pissed off looking face plate. He supposed it would be terrifying to encounter someone with it on the battlefield, then again Steve was terrified by the possibility of meeting anyone from the front on a battlefield so he may have been a tad biased.

Saltek lifted the black diving suit up in front of him, smiling as if he should recognize it instantly. He smiled back politely and waited for her to talk. There was no way he was going to open his mouth and betray his ignorance as to exactly what the object was, he could make a good guess, but why take the risk? Saltek immediately obliged him,

"Divine One, I have borrowed this from the Goddesses personal armory, I am sure she will not mind as it cannot fit her and has been gathering dust, and that is a great sin for any piece of equipment. 

It is the space suit the original goddess wore when she arrived on this world. It is a raiment of the gods and can turn away any sword, arrow or spear that would seek to do it harm. I am sure it will be glad to be returned to species of its creators."

Steve could see that, he could also the carefully stitched hole through the shoulder which meant it hadn't managed to turn away 'all' attacks on it. The woman must have put up a hell of a fight, if her captors felt the need to injure her. He momentarily felt a pang of sympathy for the fate of the poor woman, before he felt the surge of joy for the boon of armor. Space tech kicked ass.

"I gratefully accept this gift from the Lizard-kin peoples." He intoned as he took the black garment from her.

He was about to start stripping down when he noticed that neither Saltek nor Sarah had looked away. Sarah he could understand considering their relationship, but Saltek? She had no legitimate reason to stick around. It seemed she came to the same conclusion as she flushed and walked out of the room, her gait more than just a little dejected. 

Steve was beginning to feel more than just a little proud of the effect he was having on women lately. He was a vain soul, and even if every thought they had about him was the product of an elaborate lie, he could care less. Lying was what he did.

He knew Sarah was watching intently as he got changed into the black armor, he rather enjoyed how erotic it felt to have her drinking in his every movement. Soon enough though the little play was over and he was wearing the black bodysuit. It was perfect, it had a zipper all the way down the front that would allow his back to remain protect during 'intimacy'.

It felt just like a diving suit and as he looked his body up and down he was relieved to see that while it conformed to his body, it wasn't so tight that he may as well have been nude. He would have worn it regardless, but he didn't relish the thought of standing in a room full of dignitaries with his manhood outlined for all to see. He was still trying to hold onto some small shreds of his dignity after all.

The suit was comfortable to wear, and when he pushed down hard on the fabric he could feel it harden under his fingers. He had to test just how much defense it offered. 

"Sarah, could you come over here for a second."

Sarah obediently walked over.

"Ok, now hit me in the chest."

Steve flew across the room in an instant. He momentarily wished that his guardian had hesitated even slightly as he smacked into the floor, if his armor had proven to be ineffective or broken, his chest would have been concaved instantly. Sarah most certainly packed a punch.

He found that he could feel no pain however. The armor had instantly solidified when Sarah's palm had made contact, and was now a solid block across his front. It remained that way for about a second before going soft again. Steve hopped back up onto his feet, giddy with excitement.

"You can come back in Saltek" He shouted at the doorway.

Saltek cautiously wandered back in. When she saw Steve wearing the suit her face lit up with joy.

"Divine One, you look just like the gods in the old paintings!"

Steve felt himself flushing; while he may have been a shameless flatterer himself, he was quite weak to the compliments of others, especially when the person complimenting him actually meant it. 

He had to keep reminding himself that if anyone found out the truth behind him, he would be torn limb from limb without hesitation, or turned into a semen dispenser. It was a sobering thought, but a required one to remind himself that he was still in a very dangerous situation, and that while he could enjoy the perks of his situation, he was never more than one or two wrong moves away from a general shit storm. 

He wasn't used to being genuinely complimented, which was odd considering his sunny disposition and friendly manner. In his hometown he was greeted with more fear than anything else; you shove a few assholes heads into the local pubs urinals and suddenly people get all shy when they meet you for the first time. People acted like he was some kind of sociopath.

"Thank you Saltek, it is good to once more wear the armor of my homeland." Which was mostly true, it did feel good to be wearing space age armor. It didn't make him super-strong or anything which was a bit of letdown. It did however have the ability to stop a person putting pointy things into your fleshy bits, which was something people had been trying to do since the dawn of time, so he didn't really feel justified in any small disappointment he had in not developing superpowers.

He put on the helmet next. It was exactly what he expected, a large chunk of very well forged metal. It was pretty light and didn't cut off his peripheral vision too much, and his head-butts would be a lot more effective with it on. The faceplate would certainly help with his 'angry god routine' so he was happy to have it. Practical, but nothing to get too excited over. He would keep it on, you never knew when you might need to head-butt someone, it wasn't really something you planned out in advance.

Saltek was watching him more intently than usual, a fact he would have put down to sheer awe, if it weren't for the unmistakable glints of lust in her eyes. Considering that 'casual clothing' was fully body armor in Lizard-kin society, it was in entirely possible that right now he was wearing the armor equivalent of lingerie. The thought elicited a throaty chuckle from him.

"So Saltek, what's the plan for the day?" Steve asked.

Saltek snapped out of her reverie and returned to business mode, or at least as close to business mode as she seemed capable while her eyes roamed over his new suit.

"I plan to accompany you to a party for the foreign dignitaries currently in the city. Lady Bridgett has informed me that you are more than eager to attend any and all social functions you can and I will oblige your request."

Bridgett must intend to parade him out in front of as many people as possible to show off that she was hosting him. Steve did not like the sound of being forced to hang out with a bunch of merciless backstabbing twofaced bloodsuckers like himself. 

Steve did quite like ruthless bastards in theory, the fact that he liked Talia and Bridgett on a personal level proved that. He may not have known them long but so far they had spent ever moment in his presense literally and figuratively screwing him over for their own benefit, which was exactly what he would do if their positions were reversed. 

He found it hard to dislike people that reminded him of himself, after all Steve was Steve's most cared about person in the world. He may have sodomised both goddesses with a wine bottle if he got the chance, but it wouldn't be personal.

The reason he didn't want to go to said party is that he had just about no bargaining chips, and had no doubt that someone else with an agenda would try and stick their hand up his ass to use him as puppet. Failing that someone might just try and kill him, which always put a damper on Steve's days.

"Sure, let's go" He said politely.

The city itself was a busy mess of Lizard-kin rushing about. Steve had a brown cloak over his head as well as Saltek on his left and Sarah on his right. It wasn't exactly low profile, but it was better than exposing himself as human and getting mobbed. He did take a minute to enjoy the sights and sounds of day to day lizard-kin life. He talked with Saltek as they walked,

"So who are the other countries of this world?" To date he had only seen two and his lack of knowledge on the subject was beginning to bother him. It would prove more than a little awkward if he met someone and didn't even know what species or country they hailed from.

Saltek responded "Aside from the Lizard-kin Houses and the Werewolf Tribes there are the Horse-Queens of the plains, the Insect Kingdoms, The Holy Elven Orders and the Republic of Harpies, though within those groups there are sub-species such as the wood elves, dark elves, cow-kin, mantis-kin, ant-kin etc."

Steve couldn't help but notice one of those groups was more than just a little out of place by virtue of being straight out of the fantasy as opposed to the 'anthropomorphic animal' category, 

"The Holy Elven Orders?"

Saltek nodded grimly, "An extremist theocracy who believes that they are the descendants of humanity. Over time they have become obsessed with keeping their bloodlines pure, and are ruthless in maintaining them. It is an incredibly sad fate considering they are the race that all the races of Sapheros spawned from."

Steve was surprised, though he hid it. "Elves are the race that created the Lizard-kin?"

Saltek shook her head, "In a way, the Lizard-kin were originally elves generations ago, as were all the other races. At that point in time elven society was very different. It was a collection of shamanist tribes that worshipped the powerful animals of the world around them.

Soon though individual tribes formed, tribes who would each worship one animal alone, believing it to be the most survivable. At that point; each tribe found that with each generation they slowly began to take on traits of the animals they worshipped, until the races that exist today came to be.

The ancestors of the 'pure' elves today chose instead to turn their worship inwards, worshipping the elven form as perfect. Over time it has turned them into an arrogant and xenophobic race that is constantly at odds with the other five."

Well that explained the nipples and warm bodies the lizard-kin had. Their natural magic had made them take on animal traits, but the transformation had apparently stopped short of fully changing their original 'elven' forms. It didn't particularly make any difference to his day to day life, but it was still interesting to know.

The trio had reached the building the party was to be held in. It honestly didn't look any different from the other hundred odd castle mansions Steve had seen today. Steve uncloaked in front of the Lizard-kin guards, got the bowing and the prayers over and done with and he was admitted to the building. He pulled his helmet off and passed it to Sarah, who tied it to her belt, before he went in.

The insides looked just like any other fancy pants high class party he could think of, the only difference being the massive variety of races in attendance. He could see that it was primarily Lizard-kin, but here and there he could see feathered people, people with horns, people with exoskeletal claws, the list went on. He took solace in the fact that everyone was standing on two legs. Steve may have realized he had a deviant streak, but he drew the line at quadrupeds.

He was trying very hard not to gape. At least the Lizard-kin didn't do the stupid announcing thing, so for now he had a few moments of anonymous observation before Saltek began steering him through the crowd toward the center of the room. As Steve passed through the groups of dignitaries he got curious glances, but it seemed no one was willing to be the first person to approach him on their own, which was fine by him.

Saltek was nearly there when a feathered man moved to stand in front of them in a way that wouldn't allow Saltek to simply guide Steve round. Saltek would have audibly sighed if she wasn't so well trained; instead she stopped and stood to one side of Steve so he and the harpy could talk. 

Steve looked the man over. He looked like an angel, not in an attractive 'oh my god he is gorgeous way' but in a very literal 'I have two wings on my back and human features' way, the only thing that struck away from the angel imagery were the brown feathers that sprouted from the tips of his ears and yellow hawk eyes. Steve imagined there were feathers on other parts of the man's body as well, but god willing he would never find out. 

He had goggles and leathers that wouldn't have looked out of place on a world war one bi plane pilot. Steve didn't need to be a mind reader to know this was a representative from the 'Republic of Harpies', even if the term 'harpy' had been given a bit of creative freedom. The initial explorers must have had a ball picking names for all these poor saps.

"Greetings Divine One, my name is Soars High, I would like to speak to you on behalf of the Republic" Well at least he didn't speak with a chipper British accent, though 'Soars High' what kind of name was that? Did they pick two random flying words out of a hat to name him? He was however actually being polite which meant didn't know Steve wasn't a god, which made him instantly likeable. 

"Greetings Soars High, what would the Republic of Harpies like to speak to me about." He didn't really have a choice in speaking to this guy, even if he would much prefer to be talking to the amazon style horsewoman with the magnificent rack that was glaring at them from a few feet away. Alas life was cruel. The fact that said horsewoman would likely drop her pants on request was not lost on him, but that just didn't appeal to Steve in quite the same way.

Soars High evidently felt this was important, because he was not so subtly using his outdoor voice to speak, 

"The Republic would like to extend its friendship and good will to the Divine One, Steve, Servant of the God of Soldiers." He pulled a box out of his leathers and bent down on one knee,

"To that end The Republic has given me permission to gift you one of our most prized possessions, The Spear of the Gods" He presented the small box to Steve in both hands. Was the spear of the god's toothpick sized? Before He could reach out to open the box Saltek felt the need to speak up.

"You brought a Spear of the Gods here? Impossible! You would never have let it leave your capital unless you knew the Divine One would be here!" She was clearly not happy about this. 

Steve on the other hand couldn't be happier. Anything that upset Bridgett's plans for him would get him one step closer to attaining his freedom and a trip back to his own world, where impalement by pointy objects was much less likely. He may need three magic users of goddess level ability to do so but thinking about that depressed him. So he was ignoring it.

"The Republic knows many things Dame Saltek. The return of the Divine One's could hardly have been kept from us. We had the Spear flown over before you had even left the Werewolf Tribes lands." Soars said smugly. Steve as getting really curious as to what the hell was in the box now.

So he opened it. In retrospect it may have more polite to let Soar open it, but Steve wasn't about to let an incredibly inconveniently time interruption get between him and a weapon. It may have run counter intuitive to his earlier logic on weapons, but based on the hushed awe the 'Spear of the Gods' was getting, Steve had pretty much figured out what it was.

Sure enough when he reached in he could feel the hilt of a weapon. As he pulled it out he immediately recognized it. It was a handgun. It may not have been particularly sci-fi looking but Steve couldn't recognize its make or model. He likely wouldn't have been able to anyway considering he came from a country that did not allow the bearing of arms, but Steve was pretty sure a weapon like this didn't exist on his own world.

"I thank the Republic of Harpies from the bottom of my heart, it is a fine weapon, and will no doubt cut down any fool that stands before the will of god." Steve made sure the word 'cut' was emphasized. He may have had no idea if the weapon even worked or how for that matter, but it never hurt to pretend it did. He would hopefully get chance to discreetly play with it before the night was over. As it was he played around with all the little buttons that were not the trigger. He stayed well clear of the trigger. 

Soars High nodded proudly at the praise and stood up. With his present conveyed he moved back into the crowd. Steve knew that the third goddess who had summoned him was unlikely to be the Harpy one. It didn't make sense to give him a weapon if you already knew you were going to get your grubby mitts on him eventually anyway. No this stunk much more of good old fashioned sucking up. 

Steve passed the weapon carefully to Sarah making sure to tell her not to touch the trigger. He would have kept it on him if he knew how it worked, but the suit had no pockets and he would rather not be carrying a deadly weapon in one hand while he was already nervous.

If he needed help he would rely on Sarah and Saltek to protect him, not two hundred year old tech he had no idea how to use. Steve would find out how that worked later, not while he was in a room full of foreign dignitaries who were watching his every move.

Steve began being ushered to his unknown destination again by Saltek. The destination soon became clear when they were pushed in front of a Lizard-man who was massive even by their own ridiculous standard who was conversing with a woman who was clearly an elf, an elf with blond hair in a plate mail bikini that looked about as useful as a chocolate teapot but still clearly an elf. The ears gave it away. The Lizard-kin was wearing the same full knight gear that Saltek wore, albeit a bigger suit but still essentially the same.

The pair continued to talk as if Steve wasn't there, which was fine by Steve because massive gigantic crocodile men scared him shitless. Saltek suddenly twitched behind him, and suddenly Steve knew it was Saltek behind him anymore. He couldn't explain how he knew, but she was suddenly giving off the same vibe as Talia and Bridgett, toned down, but definitely the same.

Steve suddenly felt an intense heat where Saltek had a hand on his shoulder and before he knew it he was speaking, "Kaltek, Leader of House Tek I challenge you to a duel to the death for your insolence before a servant of god!" Dear god, Steve couldn't believe what he was saying, he knew the feeling though, this was just an exaggeration of what had happened it Bridget's throne room. The bitch was controlling him!




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 04



The thing that was in Saltek's body leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Well done Steve, now just whip out the handgun, blow his brains out and we can celebrate the destruction of the Pro-War factions leadership. I know it's ahead of schedule but I can't pass this opportunity up. I can't believe those silly birds gave you one of the 'spears'"

"Bridgett I assume?" Steve whispered as the Lizard-kin in front of him, now known as Kaltek, possible relation to Valtek and Saltek, continued to glower at him. 

The Saltek meat puppet nodded.

Steve continued in his best near silent outrage "Did it ever occur to you that I don't have fucking clue as to how said 'Spear of the Motherfucking Gods' works!?"

All the way back on her throne in her mansion Bridgett had moments before been congratulating herself on her bold decision. She had been watching the whole time that Steve had been outside through the eyes of the ignorant Saltek. She had barely managed to stop herself from issuing forth an entirely unladylike whoop for joy when she saw Steve receive a spear of the gods.

She had originally had an entire plan for dealing with the leader of the Pro-war faction, but with the addition of a spear of the gods to Steve's arsenal she had decided to move her plan up. It was the exact sort of bold move that she had read about in so many stories and was definitely the sort of unfaultable move that was expected in high stakes games of politics. 

So when the small hiccup in her plan became evident she stopped focusing on the sensation of the guard captain's tongue between her legs and sat bolt upright as the words came over the mental link.

She sat completely still for a second before she exhaled a single word that best summed up the current situation "...Shit"

-------------

"Do you mind if I join you Oracle?" Talia's eyes snapped open and she looked up at the Lizard-kin above her. Valtek stood above her bath, his manhood erect and bobbing with his arousal. 

Talia had allowed him to stay in her home for the duration of the negotiations, which was the standard practice when dignitaries visited the werewolf tribes. She had originally made up that rule so she would have some conversation occasionally. 

She had quickly come to regret it in the case of the young Valtek. She could hardly kill him without jeopardizing Steve's safety. A fact the lizard-kin had picked up on within the first few days of their cohabitation. What had been quite pleasant conversation had quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse with him constantly pushing the boundaries of acceptable behavior. It was little different from having a scaly version of Michael living in her own home.

Valtek didn't know it, but he would not survive his journey home. He was going to be ambushed on the way back by 'lizard-kin dissidents' courtesy of Bridgett, which along with the death of lord Kaltek at the hands of Steve would result in the complete destruction of the pro-war factions leadership. 

If Steve was the one to kill Kaltek, and Valtek was killed on his return home by lizard-kin, it would be seen as the will of the gods that the pro-war faction was doomed to fail and it would crumble in short order. 

At which point she could claim that she had found 'evidence; that Michael was the one behind the raids on the lizard-kin merchants, and with a joint lizard-kin/werewolf taskforce destroy him and his warriors. Talia removed her political opponents and so did Bridget. It was a situation that allowed them to take control of their own tribes without large losses of life, or damage to the people's opinions of the goddesses. 

Talia would have preferred to act alone, but she needed somewhere to place Steve during the preparations for war, and Bridgett's capital was the most convenient place to put him out of Michaels reach. She also grudgingly knew that she would need outside help to destroy Michaels warriors without creating a long drawn out conflict.

The only issue was that for all this to work, Talia had to ensure she didn't rip the impudent lord Valtek's head off. She would have liked to use magic to silence him, but it was a waste of her carefully stocked energy to inebriate him enough to stop his advances, but not enough that he could recover in time to not be suspicious when he left. She had spent two hundred years stocking up her power for this day, and she was loathed the thought of wasting any of it.

She could just beat him into submission with brute strength, but that was exactly what the lizard-kin wanted. If he could cause an incident, then he could return to his homeland and start the war before Talia and Bridget were ready. He could likely just have lied, but it would seem he wanted to enjoy pushing her as much as he could first. Talia couldn't let him leave early, so she had to distract him with the one thing that was holding his attention to her. Her sexuality.

She didn't actually mind showing off her sexuality. When she had been with Steve she had been infinitely more shameless in her behavior. The bit that annoyed her was that Valtek was looking down on her. That would be the reason for his death more than anything he did to her body.

"Of course Lord Valtek, you are welcome to join me." She said demurely. If she showed any sign of discontent Valtek would seize on it immediately and only push harder.

Talia slid along the side of the bath until there was room enough for Valtek to sit beside her, the bath had ample room for both of them if he sat to her side in the rectangular bath, but Valtek sat down facing her; the walls had them so close together that she could feel his knees pushing against the inside of her thighs. 

She was kneeling on the bottom of the bath, her eyes cold registering the large red male as he blatantly watched at the sight of her breasts bobbing in the water. She could feel a pantheon of emotions; anger, shock, and un spite of herself, pride and arousal. In her life she had been allowed very few opportunities to express her sexuality with any one individual in close proximity, and she was proud of her perfect form. Even the light touching of his knees was a relatively new sensation to her. 

Prior to this the only time she had been touched with such intent was only days ago when Michael had dared to touch her, and she had lost her virginity to Steve. As far as the physical sensation of being touched, her body was almost entirely virginal. She was utterly sure that some parts of her had never been touched by another being. While she could rationalize all of her feelings away, she could not erase their existence entirely. She would have ripped Valtek's head off in a second if the situation permitted it, but she couldn't deny that her body was responding to his touch. She didn't feel self-loathing so much as she felt irritation that virginal parts of her sacred body were inevitably going to be defiled by the touch of her peoples ancient enemy, one who was infinitely younger than her at that.

Valtek had noticed that her breathing was increasing in pace, and that she was beginning to pant at his light touches. There wasn't any hesitation in him; rather he had finally decided that he would claim the goddess here and now, consequences be damned. 

He had decided that she would submit to him. The goddess of his people's ancient enemy would squeal as she was impaled on his throbbing manhood. It was inevitable, as a Lizard-kin he was superior to her. She was a werewolf, even if she was a goddess. It was basic nature that the weak should submit to the strong.

She didn't recoil as he moved forward. She stared at him defiantly even as she began to pant even more heavily. Valtek moved until he was pressed against her, all pretense of respect gone as he moved to claim what was his by right. 

Her eyes widened, and then shut. Valtek began roaming his hand over her ample curves, reveling in the soft flesh and fur that was so different from Lizard-kin woman. He stopped at her soft breasts, carefully kneading at the bountiful white orbs with childlike fascination. No lizard-kin possessed breasts of such sinful size, that was right reserved entirely for mammals. 

Talia could feel his solid body pressing against her as he stimulated her chest. He felt so powerful pressed against her; Smooth scales over taut muscle that tensed like steel cables whenever he moved. She could feel his every errant twitch as he could no doubt feel her own as they remained locked against each other. 

Valtek finally let out a wicked grin as he finally stopped his ministrations, eliciting a small sigh from the Oracle that she quickly tried to hide with a low growl, which he could only find amusing. 

He stood up, presenting his dick to the goddess. His cock bobbed in the air as he leaned in closer to her, its red taut skin gleaming with water droplets. 

"Submit, Oracle, become my bitch. Become subservient to your betters" He hissed as one of his taloned hands slid down her face to grip the white fur at the back of her head before he pressed the tip of his cock into her lips. 

Talia looked him in the eyes and growled for a few moments before all the tension went out of her and she opened her mouth to let his manhood slide down the warm wet tunnel of her snout.

He shuddered as he ran his crown along her rough tongue. She remained that way for a second, before she began lovingly pumping her head up and down his shaft with contented whimpers. Valtek leaned back in satisfaction as the goddess submitted so willingly beneath him.

His thin lipped smile widened, as he moved both hands to grip her wet fur firmly, thrusting his hips in and out of the werewolf's willing mouth. She sealed her lips tightly around the shaft, her tongue constantly slipping and sliding over the sensitive flesh, whimpering in time with his thrusts as the salty meat moved in and out of her mouth. 

Her hands slid up his damps legs, caressing and kneading the solid muscles that moved just beneath the surface of his scales. The muscles tensing and relaxing in time with each thrust.

Her eyes opened wider, as he thrust as deep as he could into her. Her wet snout pressing against the dark red scales of his groin as she took him entirely into her, his scent completely filling her lungs as a steady stream of panting breaths caused him to completely fill her senses, leaving her dizzy and confused.

He climaxed into her, causing her cheeks to full with her seed as her gag reflex refused to let her swallow, causing her cheeks to swell with his cum as white bubbles began to appear at the corners of her mouth, spilling out of her lips and running down her neck to drip onto the swell of her breasts. 

She continued to gag and squirm as he held her there firmly, forcing her to asphyxiate as he let his orgasm completely run its course. Finally he let her go, letting her splutter out his semen into the water, before she attempted to scramble out of the pool.

He sighed. "It would seem you have a lot to learn Talia, Goddess of Administration. No matter, I'm sure I can teach you a lot over the next few days. By the end you will be the perfect concubine for your new master." 

Valtek stepped out of the bath and casually grabbed the collapsed Talia by the tail, eliciting a pained whimper from her as he yanked her back toward him. She let forth a small protest as he flipped her onto her back, exposing her heaving chest yet again to his hungry probing hands. 

He sat down pinning her soft wet form beneath him before thrusting his cock into her damp slimy cleavage. She arched her back into him with a groan, her huge breasts shaking with each thrust. She could scarcely stand the thought that her symbols of motherhood were being used by the brute to satisfy his debased desires.

He stopped thrusting in and out of her valley, instead choosing to grab her left breast with both hands and bodily drove his cock into it, poking at her nipple with each thrust as it drove into the yielding flesh. The hard rod driving deeper into her with each thrust, pushing in harder and deeper until it was nearly buried completely in her white breast. He grunted as he continued to defile her motherly assets.

Her tits were now even more smeared with his precum, growing shiny and silvery in the light as he oozed onto her. "More," Valtek hissed. "Milk me Talia. Submit to me!" 

He moved over to the right breast, pushing her onto his cock, fucking her mounds with his hard red dick. She could hear him groan as he rammed into her tit, pushing down hard onto her. His cock nearly enveloped by her breast as he climaxed into her fur. 

A forceful stream of hot semen spurted onto her white breast, spraying wildly over her heaving chest as the tip of his dick was pressed as hard as he could into her yielding flesh. She could feel his semen running in warm rivulets down her breasts and over her stomach

He groaned contentedly before rolling off her. The two lay there, Talia utterly smeared with the red Lizard-kin's ejaculate. She rose and began unsteadily making her way back to the relative safety of her own room. 

Valtek watched her stand, and as she stumbled after the first few steps he noticed that her vaginal lips were full and wet with obvious need and desire. The thought of her being aroused by his dominance brought new fire to his shaft. She wanted him to breed her matronly form whether she knew it or not. He knew it was impossible for her to bear his young, but the image of her being forced to suckle a pair of lizard-kin hatchlings on those gigantic breasts drove him into a frenzy.

With deliberate grace he stood up and grabbed the dress Talia had discarded, and soaked it in the bath before twisting it so that it looked like one long piece of rope.

He walked over to where Talia was still stumbling and positioned himself behind her before wrapping it around her neck, easily brushing aside her feeble attempts to stop him. He pushed her down until she was on all fours with him standing behind her, holding her head upright with his improvised leash.

Her posture dictated how he would take her. As the strength in her arms failed she slumped forward only to be yanked roughly upright by Valtek's leash. Her back arched as she felt his manhood pressing at the inflamed lips of her entrance. Her instincts compelled her bring her hips back, whimpering as she gradually impaled herself on his hot cock.

He slowly, almost lovingly, let himself slide into her soft folds, reveling in his slow invasion of her womanhood. It wasn't gentle; it was simply a slower form of invasion. 

Her thighs were coated in the evidence of her desires. There was resistance to his unyielding invasion, just the low whimpering as she was gradually invaded.

One hand came down like a thunderclap on her ass, causing her to howl and attempt to move away. As she moved away he yanked on her leash, forcing her back onto him. He remained completely unmoving as the goddess gradually began to thrust herself onto and off his manhood, until the only sounds in the room were her howls, and the wet squelching of flesh to rhythmic smacks of his hand on her pure white ass. Neither of them knew how long they remained locked in this cycle.

She howled long and hard as her orgasm swept over her. Valtek grinned at her unwilling acknowledgement of him and redoubled his assault on her ass cheeks.

Her breasts swayed in time with his abuse, his spunk running down them to drip off the tips of her erect nipples, as if in some grotesque parody of a woman's natural lactation. 

She slowly felt his rhythm become more erratic as his own climax approached. She could feel her own abused womanhood gripping greedily at him as he buried himself into her, her powerful vaginal muscles milking his cock as remained buried inside her.

He grunted and pulled hard on her leash, forcing her to kneel upright as he pulled her head back and wrapped the damp towel round her snout, muzzling her. Both their bodies shook as he exploded into her. His powerful young cock pumping its load into her mature matronly body. 

The pair collapsed once more; though this time he pushed her onto her back and collapsed onto her warm soft body, enjoying the heat she gave off on his scales.

Both their bodies ached with the exertions. She absentmindedly realized that one of his hands was still casually kneading at her breast, while he had brought his mouth to her other breast and was lazily sucking at the nipple. She knew it was just a matter of time before he was ready to force his seed into her once again. He would keep going until he believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had submitted to him.

Which was fine by her, it would keep him utterly distracted for the entirety of the negotiations. She had also reasonably enjoyed 'distracting' him. 

It saddened her that she wouldn't be the one to personally kill him for his lack of respect, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the tactile sensation the lizard-kin would offer in the meantime.

She would think of it as practice, for when 'her' human returned. It wouldn't be fair if he got to have all the fun during his little trip, and hopefully he would pick up a few tricks as well. She shuddered just thinking about it. 

Valtek stirred, probably assuming she was shuddering due to his ministrations. She resisted the urge to role her eyes. The man had an ego a mile wide. She couldn't believe that he thought he had tamed her with his clumsy rape. If she so desired she could kill him right now without breaking a sweat. She was too in control for that though.

In the meantime she would keep playing the role of 'the poor submissive victim', and hope Steve finished up his business quickly. She had plans for him and they would not be kept waiting. She grinned as the Lizard-kin pushed his erection back into her. Evidently it was time for round two.

---------

Afterword: As ever if you have any comments, criticisms and/or suggestions feel free to comment. I will most definitely read them all and adapt the story accordingly if they are valid and fit with what I'm already doing. I would most definitely enjoy incorporating anyone's suggestions into the story, if I feel it fits.

Also thank you for mentioning "mail" as I would likely not have noticed if no had said, as I enjoy posting my stories as fast as possible I don't use an editor, and my own proof reads are rushed to say the least.



The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 05



In an ideal world Steve would have instantly whipped out the handgun and blown Kaltek into next week with a witty one liner. Apparently in lizard-kin society a duel starts the second the challenge is uttered and accepted by the one being challenged, so such a series of events could have indeed have transpired in an ideal world. Steve did not live in an ideal world. To be honest, he lived in a pretty shit one.

In true 'shit world' fashion Kaltek had responded to Steve's challenge by roaring, drawing his sword and kicking Steve across the room before Steve had even had the chance to figure out which of the buttons on the gun was the safety. Assuming it had a safety and not a self-destruct button. Or that this was even a gun, and not say, a welding tool, or a tic tac dispenser. Steve may not have had lightning fast reflexes, but his ability to think of worst case scenarios was second to none. 

His train of thought was unfortunately interrupted by him coming into conflict with a dining table, and then the floor once said table collapsed under the unexpected strain of having someone land on it. Shoddy craftsmanship, to be sure.

Steve was relatively unharmed because of the amazing protective properties of his suit. He quckly came to appreciate his suit all the more because of the gigantic lizard man now bearing down on him with a sword big enough to kill a small elephant. 

He looked frantically around for support, only to see Sarah and the now apparently un-possessed Saltek looking on from the sidelines with smug expressions, as if any second now Steve would destroy Kaltek with the ease of an angry god. If they thought anything was wrong, they certainly weren't showing it. 

Steve realized belatedly that if he was getting his ass-kicked they would rationalize it as him playing with his opponent. In the long term this would benefit him, but right now he would much rather not be sodomized by a broadsword. It would really put a damper on any long term plans he would like to make.

He could hardly ask for help and not expect to get himself killed for appearing weak later down the line, so asking for help wasn't really an option. It was a choice of possible death now verses pretty much guaranteed death later. Not exactly two option Steve would like to picking from, but what could he do about it. Die most likely.

The other party goers had moved to the walls of the room with practiced ease, creating a ring of bodies around Steve and Kaltek. Duels to the death must not have been all that uncommon at these events. The whole 'swords and armor' thing was beginning to make a lot more sense in Steve's mind. He also made sure to not attend any parties in future. Sure he would miss the witty banter and pleasant atmosphere, but he just couldn't quite bring himself to accept 'a sword through the gut' as a possible outcome to a pleasant evening's festivities. He was just old fashioned like that.

Steve leaped to his feet and remembering his experience with far too many back alley brawls and prepared to duck under the next sweep of Kaltek's blade. 

The blade came in. Steve ducked. The blade ducked too. Steve learned to fly once more. Steve collided with a patch of floor about a meter from his initial standing location.

On the bright side the sword hadn't taken his unhelmeted head off, on the other hand Steve now understood the vast gulf between a back alley beat down and fighting a well-trained veteran warrior. 

He may not have liked the situation, but he was far from completely defenseless, and it wasn't the first time he was up against an opponent who outclassed him. He had a few tricks up his sleeve. 

He may not have had any formal martial training or be a massive behemoth, but he did have a nigh invulnerable suit of flexible light armor, a wealth of experience fighting dirty and a flexible mind, which if he judged correctly Lord Kaltek had never before experienced. 

Steve knew what to expect from his opponent, Kaltek had no idea what Steve could and could not do. Kaltek was likely waiting for Steve to use the 'spear of the gods' and blow him into next week, which was making him needlessly aggressive in his attack. Or maybe the dude always fought like he had a hot poker up his ass?

Steve looked at the handgun that was basically just dead weight in his hand at the moment. He would have liked to use the it to save his ass, but he couldn't really find the time to discover which combination of clicks, buttons and trigger pulls made it go bang, while someone was waving a sword at him. 

The handgun may not have been as complex as a rubix cube, but with someone trying to jab him with a pointy bit of metal while he fiddled with it, it may as well have been. 

The lizard-kin charged in again, intent on finishing what he must have assumed was a wounded opponent. Steve rose up into a crouch as the blade came down intent on splitting his skull open. Steve rose up one hand open palmed to block it and prayed his rapid planning paid off. He didn't need to do much, just buy enough time for him to figure out how to work the gun.

The sword impacted squarely with Steve's upraised palm and Steve reflexively gripped it as the suit instantly hardened all the way down the arm right through to his feet. It was like being incased in solid rock. The only place left unaffected by the suits hardening was Steve's right arm, which was not required to contribute to the solidity of the suit. The same right hand that also currently held the pistol.

Kaltek began trying to pry the blade free as Steve started fiddling with the pistol in one hand. If Kaltek had been a little less terrified of being smote down by a being that appeared completely impervious to harm, he might have let go of the blade and punched Steve in the face. As it was his attempts to free his sword only resulted in the suit retaining its rock solid state. 

Steve felt a smug sense of superiority as the lizard-kin struggled against Steve's iron grip. Steve may not have been able to move, but with Kaltek immobilized now just had to calmly figure out how to use the gun an- Smack!

Steve felt his nose crumple, and the spray of warm blood over his mouth and chin as his body fly backward. It probably looked pretty comical considering the suit was only now softening as Kaltek had let go of the sword and punched Steve in his unarmored face. 

Kaltek was a quicker learner than Steve had given him credit for. On the bright side now Steve had a sword. Also a broken nose. The second thing didn't seem nearly as helpful.

Steve landed once more in a crumpled heap on the floor, one hand holding the gun, the other the blade of Kaltek's sword. Steve was happy to now own a weapon for which its usage was a relatively simple of system of stick the pointy end in the other guy. A broken nose was a small price to pay for such a boon. 

Not to say that Steve didn't feel like crying over the loss of his dashing good looks, as well as the smarting pain that only crushed bones mashing together can summon, just that he prioritized increased survivability over his vanity. After all, it was quite difficult to be appreciated for the devilishly attractive man that you are when you're dead.

The only issue Steve could see was that even if he had a sword, Kaltek's armor was specifically designed to stop pointy things like swords going into it. Kaltek himself had likely been trained to avoid pointy things going into him. Steve had no training on how to put pointy things into people. So other than removing Kaltek's advantage, Steve really hadn't gotten all that much of a leg up on the competition. Life was hard when you were not secretly a black belt kendo master. Did kendo practitioners even have black belts? It was a mystery he may never know the answer to.

Focus.

Steve's musings on the subject were abruptly interrupted by the realization that the throbbing pain in his nose had abruptly stopped. The steady stream of blood had stopped too. Hooray for small mercies.

A quick check with the back of his right hand confirmed that all the damage to Steve's previously pulped nose had been healed. His dashing good looks would survive to see the morrow. Provided of course Steve survived to see the morrow.

Steve shakily regained his footing and held the blade at arm's length in the direction of his opponent, holding Kaltek at bay, more with Kaltek's belief that Steve would actually be able to hurt him than any reality that Steve actually could. This technique was also known as bluffing.

The lizard-kin Lord seemed a bit lost without his weapon, and was content to circle around Steve searching for an opening. Steve was happy for the breathing room, though he didn't dare take his eyes off Kaltek. It was a standoff, and one that made Steve happy for his magically increased muscle mass, otherwise he likely never would have been able to hold the ridiculously heavy sword at arm's length for any length of time.

Steve started trying to think of possible causes for his insane increase in healing ability. It was kind of relevant considering he was in a fight to the death.

The most obvious cause he could think of was because of all the sods watching the fight. If they had seen him endure a number of sword blows without harm, it was only natural they would think 'Oh, he must be invincible.' 

Yep, that theory was solid.

Running with that theory, it was entirely possible they didn't know Steve's 'invincibility' was the result of his armor. After all how many of them would have actually seen armor like this before? If there were only five sets in the world, they would be well guarded, and it was likely that none of them would have ever seen the armor in person before or know that it had such amazing protective abilities. 

In that case it would look like Steve was enduring sword blows unharmed, while only wearing thin fabric.

Ipso facto, the crowd thinks 'The Human is invincible', their magic rushes to try and make the concept a reality. Steve gets near instant healing, Pseudo invincibility. Steve would have preferred 'actual invincibility' but beggars can't be choosers.

It was a rough theory but Steve couldn't think of any other reason for his healing increasing so much in such a short period of time, when before it had been a relatively slow process. 

The idea that the crowd was magically influencing the fight certainly gave Steve an idea though.

He may have no idea how Talia and Bridget used magic, but he did know that if a Sapherosian believed something, and if enough of them believed the same thing, then reality would bend itself to conform to that belief. 

Talia's use of symbols must have been a way of focusing that belief. Steve himself knew he was a symbol of sorts. That was why he could feel the magical changes to his body. The Sapherosians had a preconceived notion as to what a 'human' was, which resulted Steve body being warped to conform to that belief.

If that really was the case then why Steve wasn't the fighter the Sapherosian's must believe him to be? 

He looked at the gun and sword in his hands. He certainly didn't feel that he had any knowledge on how to use them effectively. He glanced at the gun. Then the sword. Then at Kaltek who had moved a bit closer during his brief distraction. 

The lizard-kin was calmly watching the sword, but more often than was really necessary he would glance nervously at the gun. 

An idea began to form in Steve's mind. The humans that came before him didn't use swords. The humans that came before him used guns or 'spears of the gods', why would a Sapherosian fear a human with a sword? They wouldn't. Well they might, but they would probably fear one with a gun much more.

He also wouldn't fear a human who was bare handed. A Sapherosian would fear a human wielding the weapons that made them legends. The weapons that they used to destroy all warriors that came before them. The same weapon Steve was holding right now. 

If Steve couldn't physically use the gun, he could certainly symbolically use it.

Steve exhaled and tried to calm himself. He dropped the sword with a loud clatter. Kaltek took a half step forward before Steve raised the gun, causing Kaltek to freeze utterly. 

The change in the fight's dynamic was so fast, it even shocked Steve. He could instantly feel the familiar tingling of energy on the tips on his fingers as the Sapherosians came to believe that Steve was going to kill Kaltek. Steve just needed to push that idea a bit harder.

"Enough games Kaltek, Lord of House Tek!" Steve injected as much authority as he could into his voice, "Time to die!"

Oh how cliché. Steve would never hear the end of it if Talia ever got wind of this.

The room was utterly silent. The air crackled with forces that were beyond comprehension, even by those who unwittingly summoned them. The wind whipped round the room, even though their were no windows or doors open. 

It was all very dramatic.

This only made sense because that's exactly how the Sapherosians expected it to be. Steve could have done with his hair not standing on ends with static electricity, but 'beggars can't be choosers'. 

At this point he wouldn't have been surprised if his eyes started glowing, which he most definitely preferred did not happen because it would make the whole 'aiming' thing a lot harder. 

Steve was snapped out of his musing when the magical energy that had been floating round the room suddenly ripped into his mind like a cold storm through his thoughts, completely submerging any relevant witticism under a blanket of soul numbing pain. He could barely resist the urge to scream in agony as he felt all his doubts torn away like leaves being stripped from a tree. 

He was dying. He knew the power was killing him, his body was fine, but he could feel his mind being yanked, twisted and reshaped by this unstoppable alien force. If someone had stuck a vacuum cleaner into his grey matter, he doubted it could possibly feel worse than this.

Steve desperately clutched at the last remnants of his sense of self only to feel that slip away from his gradually feebler grasp, until even his knowledge of why he was resisting was plucked from him. 

All that was left was the hard truth that Steve truly did stand a god amongst mortals. He was human. Humans were gods. The god that was Steve didn't know how he hadn't realized this obvious truth until now.

It mattered not what the small voice in the back of his head screamed; he was Thor with his hammer. He was Zeus with his lightning. He was Samson with his sling and the Devil with his pitchfork all rolled into one. He was a god. He was judgment!

He spoke with the authority of a god to the lizard-man that stood trembling before him.

"Die."

Blue lightning leapt forth from the spear of the gods with a thunderclap that seemed to shake the ground itself. There was no recoil; the lightning didn't even come from the barrel of the gun. It simply leapt from a random surface of the weapon and arced round to its target.

The weapon wasn't actually firing. The god named Steve had no more knowledge on how the gun worked than he had when he first received it. The Sapherosian's in the room had seen Steve raise the gun and state his intent to kill. That was all it took.

When they had seen a weapon from legend aimed at a mere mortal, they had believed without a doubt that the weapon would kill Kaltek. Now their magic was rushing to conform that belief to reality. The whole room stunk of the smell of ozone.

The weapons firepower was taking the form of what the Sapherosians believed the gun should fire based on the stories passed down over the centuries about the first human explorers. The most direct comparison for a primitive culture to the destructive, loud and flashy gunfire of a modern firearm. 

Lightning.

The first bolt lanced right through Kaltek, blowing a hole clean through his chest, killing him instantly. The second shot vaporized his left leg below the knee. The third his head. By the time his body hit the floor the fourth shot had blown an arm clean off his body.

The god named Steve enjoyed his handiwork for a second or two, before putting a few more blasts into the smoking twitching corpse until it was little more than a shapeless pile of burnt meat on the floor.

The god named Steve turned to the terrified and stunned audience. Only his loyal servant Sarah stood completely unafraid of him, if anything she looked was looking at him with a dreamy expression on her face. As was correct.

He was annoyed. He was a god, so why was no one bowing to him. He was sure they would bow once he roasted a few of them, he just needed to prove he was the strongest and they would bow. 

The voice in his head was screaming even louder now. The god named Steve was confused, he was sure the voice should be important somehow, but he didn't know why. 

It didn't matter, he was sure he would remember in time, first though he would start building his empire on the bodies of those weaker than him. He turned to the onlookers and raised the gun, fully prepared to fry a horse-woman that was looking at him most insolently.

Then he farted...

...Gods didn't fart. 

It really was obscenely loud in the quiet room. To say the tension in the scene was ruined was something of an understatement. Sarah looked like she was about to start giggling.

Steve instantly felt his mind returning to normal. It was like the feeling of having heat return to your limbs after a local anesthetic wears off. If all your limbs had been set on fire. Then dipped in balsamic vinegar.

He would like to say it was a pleasant sensation, but it was more like someone had scrubbed the inside of his head with sandpaper then took a shit.

Surviving a 'mind rape' was its own reward though. It had taken all of his remaining thought processes to summon that fart. In reality he had been planning to crap his pants in order to break the magical hold on his thought processes. It had been a 'Better skid marks in my pants, than skid marks in my mind' moment. 

Steve didn't actually know if breaking the tension in the room would break the magic's hold on him, but it had seemed a solid theory, and at the time he didn't have very many options. He had felt his mind slipping away like so much confetti in the wind with every breath he took. Not fun. Not fun at all.

He made a note to prioritize thinking of some countermeasures for 'mind rape' the next chance he got. To be honest, he really should have thought of some prior to now, but a rickety carriage did not make the best place for unraveling the secrets of the universe, and his arrival in the lizard-kin capital had immediately resulted in him getting sent to this wonderful party.

It was becoming more and more evident that the greatest threats to him were not physical, but magical. Hell, it was his own attempt to save himself from a physical threat that had damn near got his whole mind sucked out of his head.

He was entirely sure the goddesses had learned some defense against negative magical effects on themselves. Talia wouldn't have been so self-aware of her position in the world unless she could stop her people's beliefs from making her think she 'actually' was a god. 

He didn't however want to ask for aid from them. It would leave him entirely vulnerable to attack from whichever goddess he learned from. He was also sure that they would know a way to penetrate their own defenses. Steve knew he would make sure he knew a backdoor to any defense he gave away to someone else.

He had a few ideas for magical defenses but he was going to need a test subject. A sentient test subject. The thought made him distinctly uncomfortable, but he knew he would do it anyway. 

If he loved himself enough to risk letting his finally memories be him shitting himself, then he was entirely willing to take the risk of taking a dump in someone else's mind to save his own. What was the saying 'Shit rolls downhill?' It wasn't like he was being unfair. Talia and Bridgett had both been screwing him with magic from the second he had arrived.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 05



It wasn't evil, it was survival. At least that's what he told himself. Besides if his defensive magic actually worked, then whoever he tested on wouldn't even know something was wrong. If something did go wrong then his test subject was a brave sacrifice. For Science!

Steve knew he was deliberately thinking about anything but the steaming corpse near him, but then again taking what was formerly a sentient being and turning it into something that best resembled a meat patty, did not exactly do wonders for his emotional wellbeing. A little introverted thinking was perfectly acceptable just after roasting someone to death. It could even be considered healthy.

He did take solace in the fact that said meat patty man had been trying to kill him at the time, although on the other hand meat patty man was the one who had been challenged to a fight to the death. By Steve. Who in turn was forced to do so by Bridgett. Who wanted meat patty man dead for trying to start a war. So really it was his meat patty man's own fault he had been reduced to a foul smelling meat pile. Yeah, that worked. Steve was now utterly vindicated and didn't have to feel any guilt.

Guilt was not an emotion that came easily to Steve. He had spent his entire life invariably screwing one person or another over for his own gains. He had only once or twice in that time felt a slightest twinge to his conscious.

He had however never killed before. Leave lasting damage to sods who didn't learn quickly, yes. Kill, no. 

The feeling of ending a life even in what was primarily self-defense did not sit well with him. Actually that was incorrect; the thrill of victory he was currently feeling after destroying his opponent didn't sit well with him. 

Steve could feel it ringing down in the core of his being, a little voice that was overjoyed to win, to destroy his obstacles so utterly. It was the same part of him that would congratulate him every time he beat down someone bigger or stronger than him. It was certainly not a healthy response to the first time he killed someone.

Steve knew he would kill, lie and steal as much times as it took to survive, but he would like to think he had enough moral fiber not to enjoy the killing bit of it. Of all the things he considered himself to be, a sociopath was not one of them. 

A yellow bellied coward to be sure, he even took pride in his completely unscrupulous nature. Feeling like a sociopathic killer was a whole different ball game. It just did not fit with Steve's carefully constructed image of himself.

He didn't know whether to be horrified that he didn't feel bad for killing Kaltek, or happy that he wasn't bothered enough for it to affect his behavior. He was most definitely feeling a bit of both.

In the end all this didn't matter. He had survived, Kaltek had not. Steve wasn't going to be crippled with guilt or stop surviving. He may not be entirely happy with his own subconscious reaction to murder, but it wouldn't change his behavior in the least. 

It had taken all of three seconds to come to terms with his first killing. He hoped.

Steve swore he felt a slight squelch when he moved to face his audience. He also hoped that this deep introspection was not cheapened by the distinct possibility of a light amount of 'follow through' in his briefs from his desperate fart earlier. That would really suck. He chuckled with a bit more vigor than was really needed. It was good to be alive.

"Sarah, Saltek, I do believe that I have had enough fun for one night. Perhaps we should retire for the evening" Steve said with as much levity as he could. He even felt a bit of levity.

Sarah eagerly joined him as he moved to leave. Saltek gave the remains of her father a few glances before resolving to follow her orders and ran to join Steve. The trio departed the silent room without as much as a backwards glance. No one moved to stop them.

Soars High, being a reasonable adaptable soul, eventually went to find a servant to get Lord Kaltek cleaned up with a mop and bucket.

---------------------------------------------------

Steve had one destination in mind. Saltek and Sarah were mostly silent. Sarah was in a sort of giddy haze, and Saltek was staring off into space. 

Steve didn't really want to disturb the knight, possible patricide and all that, but he had a question to ask,

"Saltek, if 'Valtek' is your brother, and he is the head of the pro-war faction, who did I just kill and why did Bridgett want him dead?" He asked.

He didn't really see the need for subtlety. Once you have fried one of your traveling companions close family members to death, it sort of becomes a moot point.

Saltek snapped out of her daze, "That man was my father, Divine One. If it was truly a request from the Goddess that you duel with him to the death, then I imagine my brother is also fated to die. She must intend to destroy the people's faith in the pro-war faction by destroying the house most fervently supporting it, The Tek House."

She was completely monotone in her delivery.

"If my father and brother were to both die, then my house will have no members of the main bloodline left who will be able to inherit the lands and titles House Tek controls. The house, lands and servants will then likely be divided amongst the neighboring Lords. The people would see that House Tek was weak enough to be destroyed, and any factions related to it would be tarred by association. It would be a most effective means of destroying all public support for the pro-war faction."

Steve figured something like that would be the case. He offered his condolences, "Sorry, about killing your Father and causing your entire House to fall into ruin." 

He even meant it. It really did suck to have someone with a pointy sword and a possible grudge against him as one of his defenders while he was in lizard-kin lands. He was really sorry about that. He also maybe felt a tad bit guilty about killing Saltek's father. A tad bit.

Saltek who had been in the middle of drifting back into deep thought, snapped back into focus at his apology, "Divine One, you misunderstand! To have been killed in a fair duel defending their honor is the wish of all lizard-kin. I am sure my father will be overjoyed to meet his ancestors in the afterlife and say that he died fighting a human!" Her voice had lost all of its far off monotone sound, and was damn near as giddy sounding as Sarah looked.

Steve realized then something he would rather not have known. Saltek hadn't been saddened by her father's death. She was overjoyed.

Lizard-kin culture had certainly taken a turn for the creepy in his mind. He made a note that the peoples of Sapheros didn't just get turned on by the thought of mating with strong people, they didn't much mind getting splattered by them either. Very creepy.

He made a non-committal comment, "Oh, that's nice. I guess."

Saltek nodded eagerly, a wide grin on her face, "Indeed, I am only saddened by the fact that my house is to be destroyed. Still, such is the way of things, they stood in the way of a stronger foe and were crushed. I am sure if my own oaths of loyalty to Royal House hadn't already removed me from the line of succession, my first act as the new head of house Tek would have been to swear a whole new oath of loyalty to the Royal House." She laughed heartily.

Steve resisted the urge to groan. He had wasted a few scant seconds of his carefully rationed compassion on the knight, and here she was happily discussing the complete destruction of her family's House. If ever their was an example of the yawning gap between the two's thought processes, it was most definitely on display here.

He moved away from the happily jabbering red knight and instead turned his attention to the hopefully more understandable and typically more level headed Sarah. He was to be disappointed. 

She was still staring at him with a look that could only be described as pure adoration. Her normally dispassionate personality was in a sort of giddy love-struck mood. He had certainly seen the signs of it when he had defeated Kaltek with magic, he had just been too preoccupied at the time much to care.

Considering the deep seated animosity between the werewolves and lizard-kin, it was hardly surprising that she had enjoyed watching her master destroy one with unfathomable powers. A quick sniff of the air confirmed that she was most definitely 'excited' about the whole event.

Steve was in trouble.

Steve was tempted to move back to the still happily jabbering Saltek for protection from the possibility of getting his bones jumped in the middle of a busy street. He was sure Sarah would do it too. He had seen enough werewolves mating in the streets of her homeland to know that she wouldn't even think twice about mating in public.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Sarah to take no for an answer... actually, fuck that, he most definitely didn't trust Sarah to take no for an answer. Werewolves most certainly let whatever thought originated between their legs take precedence over anything else.

Not that he wouldn't mind some mutual fun with wiry werewolf. The problem was that he just happened to have a plan that had a very short sell by date attached. A plan that would go a long way to securing his own safety. As much as it pained him to say no, Steve had to be elsewhere right now.

He continued the entire trip back to Brigit's castle/mansion thing, not so subtly keeping the happily ignorant Saltek between him and Sarah. The white cloaked guards let them back onto the grounds without comment, and Steve was quickly ushered down the hallways to Bridget's throne room. The whole while he was wondering if two elite palace guard and a knight would be capable of stopping a magically enhanced werewolf in heat. Probably not. Still they might buy him enough time to make it to the throne room.

Fortunately they made it the throne room without incident. He was pretty sure it had been a close run thing though. The entire way over Sarah had been edging closer to him.

The white cloaks knocked on the doors and departed before hearing a response. Steve waited outside the door, praying for a snappy response. He could hear a light purring sound coming from behind him. It was creeping him out considering he was trying not to look at Sarah and he could hear it gradually getting closer. 

Finally when Steve was beginning to feel the heat of Sarah's breath on the back of his neck, he decided that getting raped in the middle of the hallway was hardly going to be better than barging in uninvited so he pushed his way through the double doors. He swore he heard a growl of frustration from behind him. 

Hopefully she wouldn't do anything foolish while he was absent. Like attack Saltek in a fit of Sapphic passion. If that didn't happen he would want to be there to see. Also it would be bad politically. As a side note. He had instructed her not engage in sex with others though, so it was incredibly unlikely. Still a dark dirty part of him could still hope.

The throne room was entirely empty. Steve could see one of the doors at the back had been left open, and just outside it was a crumpled white dress. Steve knew that in these sort of situations the smart thing to do was go get the guards. Unfortunately he didn't really have that option if he wanted to complete his plan. If he was going to complete his scheme it needed to be executed now. Time was a definite factor.

He cautiously approached the open door, making note of the sounds of rhythmic metal striking metal, and the distinct smell of smoke. Was it a forge? Dear god, was their anywhere these people didn't place forges?

He moved in just enough to stick his head carefully through the entrance. Sure enough, the room was a small forge. At the far end of it he could see an almost nude Bridget pounding away on an anvil. He said almost nude because she was wearing a pair of welding goggles, a pair of mufflers, and she was almost entirely covered in soot. 

Steve was pretty sure that a forge was supposed to have a chimney and be relatively smoke free, so in order for her to be so entirely covered she must have been doing a pretty crappy job.

She must not have heard the knocks on the door because of the mufflers. This was actually incredibly convenient for his plans. 

He raised the handgun. Instantly his mind was filled with thoughts of his own greatness and other such Sapherosian crap, but this time he was ready for it. He kept his core thoughts and intentions close and protected from the whirling maelstrom of magical influence. It wasn't nearly as strong as last time, which was perfect for what he had in mind. 

The reason for its lack of power was probably because he didn't have a room full of witnesses thinking about the weapon. He had acted fast however, and because the weapon was still recent in the party members minds, he could still feel them thinking about the weapon and more importantly, thinking about what the weapon did when aimed at someone. In doing so they were inadvertently still filling the weapon with their power.

Steve didn't even need to speak. He simply thought the word,

"Fire!"

Instantly lightning leapt forth from the gun and arced towards Bridget's turned back. The power lanced towards Bridget before dissipating without so much as a flicker meters away from the goddess. Bridget didn't even notice. Which was good because thinking of an explanation for using a nation's goddess for weapons tests would be difficult.

Steve was overjoyed. He could clearly see the gradually fading symbol that had lit up on her neck when he fired. He hadn't been able to make out exactly what it was because of the soot covering her, but he knew without a doubt that the rune must have been some kind of 'anti-magic' or 'magic defense' symbol.

In truth he had been terrified that the weapon would actually hit her. In his original plan he had hoped to pretend when he showed Bridget the gun, it went off 'accidentally'. Not exactly one hundred percent believable, but considering she had nearly got him killed an hour or two ago, he would like to think his actions would be allowed a little leeway.

He had been almost ninety percent sure that the weapon wouldn't have been able to harm the goddess anyway. It would be incredibly unlikely that the goddesses didn't have some way of protecting against the magical abilities of their peers. Still, ten percent was a huge number when you're risking your life on the outcome. 

He wished their had been another way, but Steve couldn't stand the possibility of going even a second longer entirely vulnerable to the possibility of magical attackers. Even a rat will take amazing risks when backed far enough into a corner.

Now he just had to get close enough to look at a symbol he hadn't even been able to see prior to it lighting up. Bridget must be significantly less confident, or significantly more paranoid than Talia if she felt the need to hide her markings with white paint on white scales. Steve made a note to use flesh color paint on his own markings when he got them. He considered paranoia an excellent survival trait. 

The white ones he had right now were nice and all, but they were fading fast, and that had likely been the reason Bridget had been able to use magic on him when he arrived. Either that or the markings on him didn't really have all that much practical use, and Talia had just put them on to gloat about her ownership. Considering what Steve knew of the wolf goddess, both options were entirely possible.

Oh well, if he was going to be investigating the marking on Bridget's neck, he could think of one tried and tested excuse to run his hands and eyes over every inch of someone's body. He also kind of wanted to get even with her for nearly getting him killed. He didn't like holding grudges. He liked getting payback.

He snuck forward until he was a mere arm's length away from the intently focused Bridget. He reached out and deftly snatched the mufflers from atop her head.

"Oi, Bridget! You didn't answer your door, so I let myself in."

"WAH!?" Bridget shrieked before spinning round, hammer and half-finished sword in hand. Steve had just enough time to regret his practical joke before both objects slammed into his stomach and flung him a few feet backward.

Bridget immediately ripped off her goggles to see her would be attacker, accidentally revealing a pair of tear stained red eyes in the process. She nearly stared crying all over again with joy when she took in her still living human's sprawled out form. 

"...Steve?"

She was certainly surprised and to see that her human was still alive. She had in truth thought that he had already been killed, and had retired to her forge to calm herself with the monotonous task of forging. It would have been impossible to stop the duel, and she had resigned herself to the loss of the first being in her entire life that she would have been allowed to one day call an equal and an ally at the same time. The first being who could have ended a lifetime of loneliness.

She had been cursing her impulsive decision from the second she found out that Steve didn't know how to use the Spear of the Gods. She had thought that her future partner had been killed, her own standing amongst the houses had been destroyed, and she had made an enemy of two other goddesses, all in one fell swoop. To say she was relieved to see her human alive and well was something of an understatement.

"EH? EH? EH? How...What...How did you survive!?" She cried with a volume that rang through the forge.

Steve would have liked to answer with some kind of witty quip, but a goddess hit harder than a regular lizard-kin even when caught off guard, and as such he was more than a little winded even with his super suit.

"Magic..." He wheezed. 

In any other situation he imagined that would have been considered some kind of witty quip. Any other situation...

"Magic?" Bridget murmured, disbelief clear in her tone. 

Steve felt more than a little insulted by that. It was one thing to accidentally nearly kill a man, quite another to not believe the outrageous comments they make as to how they survive.

Bridget shook her head. It had taken her years of trial and error to get the kind of careful control it took to wield any kind of magic that could be considered applicable for battle. She was entirely sure it had been the same for the other goddesses as well. Had Talia been teaching Steve? Even then he shouldn't have had enough power to defeat a fully grown lizard-kin warrior with but a few days training.

"How?" She asked. 

She tried to inject authority into her tone. This was made more difficult with the fact that she had spent her entire life in this mansion. Her only conversations were with her guards and subordinates. Which is to say that she did not exactly know what a person with authority was 'supposed' to sound like, but she had read lots of books on the subject and was almost entirely sure that she was doing it right. 

She had to maintain her strong appearance; if she didn't recover her confident mask then Steve would sense weakness and never respect her. The book she had read on werewolf social dynamics had made that very clear, and Steve had most definitely been influenced by his time amongst the werewolves. 

She couldn't think of any other reason he let that stinky mangy mutt follow him about. Just thinking about how that disgusting 'Sarah' clung to her human made her want to smelt something down into a shapeless blob.

"I used the 'Spear of the Gods' or whatever the crap you call it as a catalyst for the party goers beliefs, and fried the fucker with the power of faith." Steve groaned. 

He really wanted to lie and hide his newfound ability, but honestly he was dealing with a substance that he had no knowledge on whatsoever, a substance that had nearly killed him when he tried to use it.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 05



If he was going to discover their was such a thing as 'magical radiation poisoning', he would rather find out about it now before he grew another set of arms. Or much more likely a new set of genitals.

"Hmm, really?" Bridget acted unimpressed, but her mind was racing. She knew that it was theoretically possible, but she had always assumed that the sheer amount of magical feedback from such a well-known weapon would render anyone who attempted to direct the beliefs associated with it a vegetable. 

Yet here Steve stood, or more correctly lay, after having apparently done just that. Not only had he directed the magic associated with a legendary weapon, but he had done so with no anti-magic runes to stem the magical flow. If it was true, then Steve's military value had just skyrocketed.

Not only would he be able to use the already world shaping human weaponry conventionally, but he would also be able to access reserves of magical belief that until now not even the goddesses had been able to direct. The mere thought of it made her spine tingle, in conjunction with other less ladylike places.

She could only hope that none of the other goddesses figured it out when the dignitaries relayed tonight's events. With any luck, the party goers description of the duel would leave the other goddesses believing that Steve had simply used the 'spear of the gods' conventionally. Only Bridget knew that Steve did not yet know how to operate the weapon.

This was all well and good, but right now Steve was a wild card. He didn't know what kind of power he wielded, and until Bridget was sure that Steve was utterly her ally, she would ensure he remained ignorant.

So she would distract him. If she acted in a manner not considered entirely 'ladylike' it was in service to her country, and thus totally acceptable. Any correlation with her own desires as a woman were coincidental. Her duty was definitely the only reason she was about to act in a manner that may be considered 'lustful'. 

She was glad that she didn't have sweat glands. She would do this the werewolf way, right here where she was most comfortable, her forge. It never occurred to her that an incredibly hot forge, may in fact be too warm to be comfortable for a human. Her mind was focusing on not becoming so embarrassed that she attacked her future husband with her forging hammer. Steve was blissfully ignorant of this small, but important detail.

Steve knew that look. It was the same look Talia and Sarah gave him just before he was liberally drained of his manly juices. Well the joke was on Bridget, this time he was armored and ready to go. The possibility of a light smear of poop in his pants would never put off a man on a mission. He was going to go with the flow and get his eyes on that symbol. And his hands. And maybe his tongue.

Steve unzipped his suit all the way down the front, exposing his throbbing manhood to the muggy air of the forge. Bridget's eyes bulged as she stopped mid advance, Steve grinned as he realized that the lizard goddess was much more innocent than she acted. Perfect. 

He advanced on her instead, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcibly pushing her yielding body to the cool tiled floor. Her scales were smooth and hot to the touch as he probed at them with his fingers. Steve had the advantage; he now had to maintain it.

He sat up, grabbed the goddess's ankles and dragged her closer towards him over the soot covered floor before flipping her over onto her stomach, ignoring her weak protests in the process. She might have been murmuring something about 'a proper order of things' but by this point he could feel his magically enhanced libido kicking in and couldn't have stopped if he wanted to.

Steve reached down and grabbed her tail at the base with both hands, before pulling her hips up into the air, letting the tail rest over his shoulder. He admired the delicate shine of her arched back before focusing on the bounty before him.

He used one hand to squeeze at her soft round ass cheeks, spreading as them as he did so, revealing her fully engorged labia lips, the edges of her petals were already damp with her lubricants. The heady aroma of a bitch in heat mingled with the smoky musk of the forge in a concoction that left him momentarily light headed. 

Steve could see her tight asshole tensing and relaxing in time with his squeezing of her ass cheeks. It was cute considering that she acted as if she were completely above reproach, and here she was tensing and relaxing like there was no tomorrow, all because of a little ass fondling. If he was a sadist, then it was only because circumstances spurred him to it. Some would even say he was a victim of Bridget's sudden one hundred and eighty degree personality spin. So what came next could only be described as both natural and inevitable.

He spanked her ass with a thunderclap of calloused flesh on soft scale. She mewled pitifully but made no move to stop him. It might even be possible that she thought by enduring a bit rough play, she might atone for nearly killing Steve earlier.

If they were going to go down that road Steve was certainly going to get his money's worth.

"Get ready Bridget, were just getting started." Bridget simply nodded mutely. 

Steve slowly pushed his cock into her, her low moan music to his ears as he did. Steve in turn groaned at the incredible feeling. She was extremely tight and equally wet allowing Steve to slide in with ease. The heat was far in excess of a humans or werewolves though, not exactly uncomfortable, just notably different as he felt her blazingly hot walls press down on his head and shaft.

Bridget's vaginal muscles naturally contracted around Steve's invading member, massaging his human shaft as he penetrated deeper into her draconic form. The heat only became more intense as he pushed deeper into her, her hot fluids running off his shaft as they spilled out of her vaginal opening. The goddess simply lay where she was, breasts pressed into the cold tiles as Steve began to saw in and out of her womanhood, gripping her hips for leverage as he began his rough domination of the ancient sovereign.

As Steve pulled back out, He looked down at her opening; a pleasant contrast of her white outer lips, with the alien light blue of her insides as well as his own glistening pink member. Steve liked how different her blue insides looked, it was different, and as he was quickly discovering, he found strange things a turn on.

Steve plunged back into her again, eliciting a high pitched yelp from her as he drove himself into the base, his balls slapping against her blue opening with a wet slap. He leaned down pressed his own muscular chest into her smooth back, smearing himself with the soot that had prior to now been caked all over her. 

He bodily groped her firm dangling breasts, as he watched the sweat from his body run off him and onto her back, creating little rivulets of white against the dust covered black. All the while Bridget let out little high pitched gasps in time with their coupling. Steve could only grin as he felt her tail unexpectedly wrap around his waist.

Bridget finally began moving her hips, her lithe body arcing back into Steve's with each breath, her hot blue pussy leaking its syrupy juices with every thrust. The feeling of heat emanating from her opening was incredible. Unfortunately he still had to get his eyes on that marking on the front of her neck, and his subtle attempts to flip the goddess back onto her back had been thwarted by her tail's tight grip. If he had been thinking clearly he probably would have started off in the more practical missionary position. 

Alas, he was only human, and events had moved beyond his control. He was also becoming increasingly aware that a forge wasn't exactly the best place for sexual intercourse. It was hot, smoky and filled with a wonderful assortment of objects that were either sharp, red hot, or both. He kind of wanted to finish this up quickly, rather than resorting to a round two. Not that he wasn't having fun, he most certainly was. He just didn't like the idea of leaving a sexually excited Sarah unsupervised; it was an international incident waiting to happen. Fortunately he could see a shield hanging on a wall in front of him that would fulfill his needs quite nicely.

Steve continued to thrust into the goddess, his cum-heavy balls receding upwards as his climax approached. He drove himself hard Bridget's gradually tightening vagina, her womanhood redoubling its heated massages as her own climax approached. He pushed until he was buried to the base in her blue cunt, his balls slapping against her as he did so.

Her back arched in orgasmic bliss as he poured his seed into her. Steve had time it perfectly. As her neck was exposed in the reflection of the mirror opposite them, he drove 'the spear of the gods' into her puckered asshole. Bridget's eyes shot open, she shrieked, and her back arched even more at the unexpected cold sensation driving into the virgin flesh of her anus. 

Steve could barely even feel a hint of energy from the weapon now, but there was enough to make the rune on Bridget's neck flare in response to the electrical current that tried to form on the surface of the gun. Steve committed the shape of the symbol to memory. Then the pair collapsed in a sweaty, dirty heap. Steve got an anti-magic symbol secretly and got laid. Aside from nearly getting murdered and having his mind sucked out by a magical vacuum cleaner, it had been a good day.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to bask in the afterglow. He had to write down the symbol quickly, lest some small detail be distorted in his mind. Their was also the small matter of Sarah to take care of. He also needed to figure out how his new gun worked. It was going to be a long day.

Bridget heard Steve bid her goodbye as he left. She didn't respond. She was happy enough to bathe in the afterglow of her first experience of sexual intercourse with a male in two hundred years. Her ass was a bit sore though. She would have to get revenge on him for whatever he had stuck up her butt. For now though, she was just happy she hadn't accidentally got her future husband killed.

-----------------------------

Steve was woken by a light breeze that tickled his nose. If he were a normal person, he would have just rolled over and got back to sleep. Steve most certainly wanted to do just that; Sarah had been completely ravenous, and at points Steve had been pretty sure his armor would tear. 

He had barely managed to disentangle himself from her afterwards and make his way from the hallway outside his room to his bed. He had managed to scrawl the anti-magic symbol on himself with one of the white paints that Sarah kept in her backpack. Then he collapsed onto his own bed. 

He didn't feel particularly bad about abandoning his bodyguard in a drafty hallway. She had seemed happy enough when he left. He didn't actually know where Sarah slept anyway, but he was pretty sure she just bunked down in front of his door at night, which was fine by him. If she was willing to guard his door at night, who was he to complain.

The reason Steve was concerned about a light breeze in the middle of the night was that being a born and bred Englishman, he never left his windows open at night. Double glazing was invented for a reason. So with that being the case, why would he feel a light breeze in his room in the middle of the night. Which meant that someone had opened his window. This meant Steve likely had an unexpected guest in his room at this moment in time.

Steve ever so subtly grasped the gun, which he kept hidden under his pillow for moments just such as these. It was also the reason he had been sleeping fully armored. That, and the fact he had been too dog tired to take it off, but mostly it was paranoia. Mostly.

He opened his eyes to find the blonde elf who had been talking to the late Lord Kaltek looking down at him from an uncomfortable close proximity, though she had swapped out the ridiculous chainmail bikini for something that wouldn't have looked out of place on an SS soldier, which was to say she had a black cap and was sporting black leather. Lots of black leather. 

In any event, the blonde woman was not alone. Steve was surrounded by other figures he couldn't quite make out in the darkness, but he was pretty sure one of the outlines was sporting the wrong number of limbs. He didn't think this should bother him considering home invaders were generally always bad news, but somehow the possibility that one of them had more legs than him scared him to death. It removed his go to option of 'run like hell' as a viable choice.

The nazi wannabe had noticed that Steve had woken up, and took off her hat before leaning in close, giving him a whiff of her scent, which was a lovely combination of leather and bootpolish. She looked him in the eyes before whispering, 

"My lord, we have come to rescue you from the savages. We understand you are confused, but please do not attempt to struggle. It is for your own good." She stared at him as if expecting a response.

Well to Steve that sounded utterly reasonable. Get hauled off in the middle of the night by armed strangers. Sure. Why Not? Fat chance of that, as soon as he was out of this room, he was in enemy territory. The moment he had the most chance of escaping was the moment when the situation had the most variables. The moment they actually tried to secure him. He genuinely hoped that they needed him alive.

Steve head-butted blondie right in her perfect nose, causing her to go sprawling backwards with a light spray of blood all over Steve's nice white sheets. All the figures around Steve's bed the dark figures instantly converged on him at once, but not before he could scream at the top of his lungs, 

"SARAH!"

It was probably fair to say that he wasn't the only one that was surprised when the fucking door exploded...



The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 06



Ok, maybe exploded was an exaggeration. It would be more appropriate to say that the door accelerated with great haste from its designated and proper place in the doorway, and upon discovering that one of the current members of the room was obstructing its flight path, it in a great fit of rage at its long awaited dreams of flight being interrupted, flew into a great many pieces. Actually, maybe exploded was the correct term for it?

That is to say in less flowery speech that Sarah kicked the door with such force that it flew out of its frame, hit one of Steve's attackers, and 'then' shattered. Steve would like to think that the person who intercepted the door spent their last few moments congratulating themselves on surviving an attack by a wild flying door, because they certainly didn't survive the spear that flew out of the doorway moments after. 

Steve had always been under the assumption that only something on the scale of say a 'ballistae' would be able to pin someone to a wall using a projectile. As it turned out, his bodyguard could comfortably say that she could throw a spear with the same force as a piece of ancient field artillery. The fact that the spear had passed through the remains of a door, a shield, armor and then somebody before embedding itself a few feet into the wall was really just so much icing on the cake.

Steve was certainly impressed. He was also wondering how Sarah planned to save his ass, when she had just imbedded her trusty spear a few feet into the wall on the other side of the room from her.

On the bright side, the open doorway provided enough illumination for him to make out the rest of his attackers. He had been expecting a crack team of elven commandos in black leather. What he was seeing was a bit more... unconventional. On the bright side, it certainly seemed a lot more multicultural, which always warms the heart.

If he had only one word that could fully describe all the women around him, with the exception of the blonde elf, it would have to be Insectoid.

If there was one defining feature he could say about all the creatures of Sapheros thus far, it was that they were humanoid. 

He supposed it was because they all originated from elves that for the most part the changes to Sapherosians seemed to be superficial; things like hooves, snouts, size, fangs, eyes, wings, fur, facial structure etc. The main point though, was that at the end of the day, they were only about half as animal-esque as they were human-esque; He was pretty sure the Lizard-kin for example were still 'technically' mammals.

The people around the room from him seemed to have taken the concept of being half elven and half 'something else', and run with it. Run really far with it. The one in the corner was the most striking exmple. She had a spider's body. From the waist down. If you were to remove that one small feature, you had essentially a human body, give or take a few fangs. 

Other than the spider lady in the back and blonde elf lady on the floor, the rest were all the same type of insect base, Wasps. 

They had wings, a wasp's black and yellow insectile thorax sticking out their ass, black eyes and antennae; aside from those small features they looked human, as in healthy tan flesh and hair where he could see it. The skin he could see was covered in black tattoos, but still human looking for the most part. Apparently exoskeletons weren't stylish right now unless they were on your ass.

Most were wearing helmets with those stylish little plumes and the were all wearing bronze armor that reminded him distinctly of something a Greek hoplite might wear. It didn't cover the thoraxes though. 

The short swords and shields certainly rounded out the image. 

They were also all slightly distracted by the werewolf who had just pinned one of their number to the far wall. Steve couldn't blame them; she looked pretty pissed and pretty happy at the same time. Pissed someone had invaded her master's room. Happy she got to kill them for it. Never let it be said Sarah was an individual without depth. 

One spider woman, one blonde elf with a nose bleed and seven wasp women against a dude who was still in bed and an unarmed pissed off Sarah. 

Everyone decided to move at once. Steve's movement involved throwing his sheets over two of the wasp women who were on his left before grabbing the still stunned blonde elf and pressing his gun to her head in the classic hostage taking pose.

Sarah's movement apparently involved hurting someone, because he heard a wet squelch and a high pitched squeal. It was a strange sounding squeal; the voice sounded like it was two tones at once. Weird. Was that was Sapherosian's though an insect should sound like?

In retrospect, it may have just been easier for him to stay in the bed and let the situation resolve itself. He had certainly considered staying in bed, but as it stood he wasn't entirely sure Sarah would be able to kill all of her opponents and emerge unscathed. 

The loss of Sarah just could not be allowed to happen. She was his most useful ally. That was to say she was his only ally. It wasn't like he was particularly in danger either; his kidnappers wanted him alive after all so he was pretty much free to be a spanner in the works.

He hefted the gun at the spider woman who had stayed back from the fray. It occurred to him that she had likely climbed up the building and dropped web to allow the wasps to gain access without alerting any guards with the droning of insectile wings. She was also likely the one would have tied him up and carried him out if he hadn't woken up. So he didn't really feel guilty when he urged lightning to fly forth and roast her. 

The lightning burst into existence with that familiar smell of ozone and the incredibly irritating voices in his head, which were now thankfully muffled by the anti-magic rune on his neck. 

He watched it leap at the spider... and fizzle out without so much as a crackle to show for it. 

So much for his 'godlike powers'. He certainly had enough witnesses to charge the weapon up, so why wasn't it bug-zapping?

Spiderwoman turned from the fight between Sarah and the wasps to face Steve, no doubt alarmed by the sudden flash of light in the dark. Steve saw his reason for the lack of splattering pretty quick. A tattoo on the spiders face was alight. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was an anti-magic rune even if it weren't the same as the one used by him and Bridgett. 

It most certainly implied a goddess had sent this little abduction party. Was it a team effort between the elves and the insects? Probably.

He thought about all this just before he flipped the safety off the gun and pulled the trigger. Tired he may have been last night, but certainly not tired enough to not bother to learn how what was probably the most powerful weapon on the planet worked. 

The thing had no recoil and made no sound, so his attempts to fire it out the window during his investigation earlier had resulted in him pulling the trigger and assuming it didn't work. Then he had aimed it at the wall. No result. Then he aimed it at one of the weird bat things that were flying outside. Then it worked. Organic stuff was the only thing it harmed apparently.

The same thing that had happened to the bat earlier now occurred to the spider woman. 

One second there was an armored spider hoplite looming over him, and then there was a loud popping sound and suddenly he was looking at only the bottom half of an armored spider hoplite. 

Actually that wasn't true. The top half of her was still visible, just not all of it; the rest having been smeared evenly over every nearby surface. Including Steve. 'Icky' didn't even begin to describe. 

Steve would like to say he felt like a badass. After all, defeating a spider monster that attacked him in the middle of the night 'sounded' badass. Alas, he really only felt like he wanted a shower and to sit somewhere quietly for five minutes. Discovering that someone's detonated nipple is lodged in one of your ears can do that to a person.

As it turned out, the detonated nipple was enough of a distraction for blondie to head-butt Steve in the nose and escape his grip. Steve managed to wipe his eyes clear of spidey's juices just in time for him to see blondie dive out of his open window.

He waited for about half a second for her to rise up on some massive flying bug, swear her revenge on him, and fly off in true beaten villain fashion. That didn't happen. Instead he heard a particularly uncomfortable sound that could best be described as 'splat'. Either her timing hadn't been quite right, or his kidnappers were hardcore about their secrets. He was really hoping for option number one. It would imply that reality was on his side on occasion, and that he wasn't being chased by suicidal nutjobs.

It also occurred to him that the sounds of battle had ended. Steve turned with no small amount of trepidation to find Sarah standing amongst a pile of bodies that were in various states of dismemberment. The scene was made significantly grizzlier by the fact that one of the swords Sarah was holding still had a tattooed arm gripping the handle. 

Had she just yanked someone's arm off and beaten them to death with it? To be honest he wouldn't be surprised if she had. Werewolf battle strategy seemed to subscribe to the 'shock and awe' school of thought, as in 'be shocked your arm got torn off, and then be awed as you get beaten to death with it'. It was a very effective school of thought.

Steve took a deep breath, tried to ignore the exploded spidery bits that were clinging to him and thought about what had just transpired. So to sum up what he knew. He had been nearly kidnapped by a group of women who appeared to be of insectoid origin, as well as one elf. 

The elf had decided to die rather than be taken alive, and the insectiods had fought to the death rather than surrender. Probably. It was also possible Sarah hadn't given them a choice in the matter but he would like to give her the benefit of the doubt.

More alarmingly the whole group had been rocking anti-magic. Considering 'magic' was supposed to be a secret, Steve was entirely sure this was the work of at least one goddess. 

Steve asked his question as calmly as he could while trying not to stare at the dangling sword arm, 

"Sarah, did you happen to leave any of our guests alive?" 

Sarah snapped out of her post-fight reverie and seemed to think about the question for a second, 

"Yes Divine One, I only disarmed one, so I don't think she's dead. Yet. I don't exactly remember which one though. I think she fell near the doorway."

Sarah chose to wave the arm attached to her sword for emphasis. Steve could only hope the pun was unintentional. 

What could he say, being covered in internal organs didn't do wonders for his sense of humor, or his appetite.

As Sarah started picking through the corpses for the armless survivor (another pun), Steve decided to take a peek out the window and discover Blondie's fate. It was possible she had landed on an incredibly convenient patch of watermelons or garbage bags or something. 

A quick glance proved that wasn't the case. She was either dead, or had an amazing talent for impersonating raspberry jam.

"So wher-", Steve started.

He was interrupted by the sound of metal hitting the floor in the hallway. He raised his gun and Sarah tensed. The moment dragged on for about a second before a half armored Saltek charged into the room with sword in hand roaring a mighty battle cry. Then she slipped on the blood. Steve was given a wonderful flashing of between her legs as she fell on her ass.

When he said 'half-armored' he meant the top half. He supposed he should be impressed that she had managed to get that much armor on in the short period of time since he had had shouted for aid. Still, it certainly showed a large flaw in Lizard-kin security if they felt themselves completely unwilling to go into battle unarmored. 

That might have been why his kidnapping failed, his kidnappers hadn't been expecting the monster that was Sarah, and felt they had plenty of time before the Lizard-kin would show up after they had killed or otherwise dealt with the on duty sentries. 

Either way he was certainly unimpressed by his secondary bodyguard's reaction time. He wouldn't say that of course. Insulting someone whose job it was to get between you and sharp things was never smart. He would just have to find a third bodyguard who didn't have a time delay, in case Sarah was incapacitated and he was attacked at night again. 

Maybe one of those horse women? They looked big. Why he felt the need for his bodyguard to be female wasn't something he chose to ponder.

He knew he certainly didn't want another werewolf. Sarah was great and all, but outside of combat she was either cool and unflappable or trying to jump in his pants with or without his consent. He needed a bodyguard who was imaginative and flexible enough to actually warn him about threats that his ignorance of Sapherosia would leave him blind to.

First he had to explain what had happened in here to Saltek. He went over to help her up only to discover she was out cold. He resisted the urge to groan. He hadn't even known it was possible to render yourself unconscious with a helmet it on. Had Saltek been somehow sabotaged, or was she just a moron?

His thoughts on the plausibility of her having received blunt force trauma were interrupted by a yip of triumph behind him. He turned to find Sarah lifting one of the wasp women by the collar of her armor.

The wasp certainly wasn't going to be winning any beauty pageants any time soon. In addition to the right arm that was just plain shredded at the socket, she was missing an eye and a good portion of flesh from the right side of her face where Sarah had apparently clawed her. Steve couldn't believe she was still alive.

It was shame really, the untouched left side of her face was quite pretty. He had a thing for women with black hair.

Blood wasn't flowing freely from the arm, and it looked like it was already scabbing over, so she definitely had inhuman ability in that department. Maybe the magic runes she had on her included regenerative abilities? None of them were glowing, but that didn't say much, a lot of them ran all the way under her armor after all. 

"Sarah, can you go alert the guards. I'll stay here and make sure Saltek doesn't choke on her own tongue... or something like that." Steve requested wearily.

Sarah grunted an affirmation before leaving, her captive dragging along behind her, for which Steve was thankful. He didn't particularly relish trying to figure out the most effective means of tying up an individual who had an unknown number of magic tricks at her disposal, even if she was missing an arm, an eye and was unconscious. 

In the event the wasp woman woke up and was in the mood for round two he was sure Sarah was best equipped to comply with her wishes.

He waited for Sarah to move of sight before slumping down on his bed, which dutifully elicited a squelch to remind him of the fact that it was covered in about a fortnights worth of Red Cross blood donations and other assorted juices that were likely important to the continued functioning of a healthy person.

Steve sighed as he surveyed the carnage that was the guest room.

It didn't look so much like a fight had taken place as much as it looked like a group cosplay enthusiasts had been massacred by a combine harvester. A combine harvester that fired spears. It was just an absurdly unnecessary amount of carnage. The whole thing was insane. A man should not have to wake up and wonder if he should unpin one of his kidnappers corpses from her position pinned to wall.

Even the proud Saltek had been reduced to a half-naked parody of a knight by the night's proceedings. The absurdity of the scene was just too much for Steve's delicate sensibilities right now.

On the Brightside he now had a veritable treasure trove of magical runes at his disposal to learn from. A lot of them were attached to severed limbs, but that was essentially just small print. 

In addition, if he played his cards right he would even have a live prisoner to experiment on...

Steve paused.

...That sounded grim even in his own head. 

He had a 'volunteer' to experiment on. 

Much better.

It wasn't like he was planning on killing the wasp woman. In fact by calling dibs on the surviving wasp woman he was probably going to save her life. In return all he wanted was to paint some funny symbols on her to ensure they were safe for human use and didn't cause terminal diarrhea or some other such problem. 

With him being the only human on the planet he could not imagine a more important time for product safety.

Steve gradually lay back and relaxed into the sticky bed sheets. On another day he might have been grossed out by the feeling of flesh blood trickling down the back of his suit. Today he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Yesterday had been a long day. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

------------------------------------

"In other words, I nearly get kidnapped in the middle of the night, and my host can do just about nothing to punish the perpetrators." Steve said while poking at an object on his plate that he was pretty sure was some kind of fungus. 

He figured that the events of yesterday allowed him a little leeway in his politeness when he spoke to Bridgett in private. In fact he was having trouble reconciling the in-control ice queen he first met in her throne room with the exacerbated looking woman in front of him. He had certainly seen a change in her yesterday during their passionate revenge sex, but hadn't given it much thought at the time. Breasts tended to make his trains of though shorter than usual.

Today she was treating him a lot more like an equal, perhaps as a result of her nearly getting him killed or because they had been intimate yesterday. It was a pleasant change, but he was still worried about the possibility of the 'sex equals marriage' trope popping up and making his life even more complicated. So he was blaming her for all his problems to keep her on the back foot. It was a mean bastard thing to do, but what could he say? He was a mean bastard.

Bridgett groaned audibly. She was beginning to learn the vast difference between reading about the thrill of adventure and court intrigue in a book, and experiencing it first-hand. Real life sucked.

She had woken up today to find that two of her guards had been murdered in the night and intruders had managed to make their way into the guest quarters of her palace. To make matters worse, the person that had saved Steve from imminent abduction was his pet werewolf, while one of her own knights had knocked herself unconscious. This was what had led to their current predicament.

"Divine One, I don't think you fully understand the situation. In case you hadn't noticed, Talia and I are in a bit of a delicate situation in regards to our political standing. I cannot allow myself to show any weakness whatsoever right now. Hell, that was probably why they chose now to attack. 

If I let it become public knowledge that intruders managed to infiltrate my palace, it would tarnish my name just as surely as our actions yesterday tarnished the name of House Tek. My hands are tied in the matter." Bridgett hissed. 

The two of them were in the dining hall for breakfast, while Saltek stood outside. Steve had let Saltek be his 'guardian' for the morning to soothe her wounded pride, while Sarah secured his prisoner. 

It was irritating that he had to have his bodyguard guard the person who had tried to kidnap him the night before, but he was entirely sure that if Sarah wasn't watching the wasp Bridgett might have her disappear to hide the infiltration of her palace. Steve was not about to lose his test subject.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 06



"So, can you at least tell me who sent them?" Steve asked. He had finally decided that whatever was on his plate was a mushroom of some kind. He didn't much like mushrooms.

"From what you have said, and from the bodies recovered, I would say the most likely perpetrator is The Holy Elven Order."

Steve stopped poking his mushroom, "Just the Holy Elven Order? I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure the majority of the people in that room weren't elves."

Incoming elaboration. It never hurt to pretend to be dumber than you were. He got free information for asking dumb questions. Any second now she was going to roll her eyes and give him a much needed rundown.

Bridgett resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "I can assure you, the Insectoids that were in that room were not from the Insect Kingdoms."

Steve pretended to be dubious, "Oh, and how would you know that?"

Bridgett didn't bother to resist her eye rolling urges this time, "Because if Insectoids from the Insect Kingdoms were trying to kidnap you, they would have set fire to the building before carrying you off slung over one shoulder, along with everything that wasn't nailed down. Subtlety is not exactly their national strong suit."

Steve figured that statement was based more on stereotyping more than anything else, but decided against pointing it out.

Bridgett continued, "The Insect Kingdoms would never field an elf in their armed forces. The Holy Elven orders on the other hand have elven officers, but the rank and file primarily consists of other races, born and bred as slaves in the elven homelands."

Steve nodded. What Bridgett had said made sense, but that only raised a second question, aside from why the elves wanted to kidnap him,

"So The Holy Elven Order has an army of slaves as their primary military power? Forgive me if I'm asking a dumb question, but what's to stop the slaves from rebelling?"

Bridgett sat up, "As you may have noticed, the existence of 'magic' or more specifically how it functions, is not common knowledge in Sapheros. This is not an official rule amongst us goddesses, as each of us discovered its existence independently of the others, and independently decided to keep this advantage over the masses to ourselves. 

I imagine the others all believed as I did, that this power was my best chance to avoid the fate that befell my mother, as well as a powerful tool that would be diluted by widespread use.

It would seem that the Samara, the Elven Goddess did not come to the same conclusion.

I don't know exactly what transpired in the Elven Homeland, but Samara has not been seen in one hundred and eighty years. 

Since that time Holy Elven Order has produced self-proclaimed 'Daughters of the Goddess' every two years or so. I have no doubt they are the biological offspring of Samara.

I can tell you with certainty that no goddess would willingly submit to such treatment. The fates of our human mothers are thoroughly ingrained into the psyche of all of us. It is the reason why none of us have taken mates. 

Our primary defense against rebellion by our followers is the assumption that we are divine in origin and all powerful. If we were to take non-divine mates and have children, it would make us appear as less than gods to our followers. If that were to happen the same fate that befell our mothers would inevitably befall us as well in time.

I can only imagine that Samara shared her knowledge of magic with her closest followers, she was betrayed, and it was used to wrestle power away from her when her followers felt that the gap in power between themselves and their goddess had been shortened sufficiently by their newfound magical ability.

I believe that a group of leaders are now using magic to stay in power and are using the biological daughter of Samara as their primary means of doing so. It would not be difficult to raise the daughter from birth to be tools."

Bridgett snarled as she continued, "In addition to being ageless and incredibly powerful physically, these 'Daughters' have become icons for the beliefs of the elves in much the same way us goddesses are. The Daughters would easily be able to manipulate their mortal armies by simply being present amongst them. 

With the Daughters as generals, the Elves need never fear rebellion from their slave armies.

Thankfully the knowledge of magic has not spread beyond the group that now controls the elves. It is likely that the group in charge do not intend to make the same mistake their goddess did."

Steve nodded, "So why haven't you or any of the other goddesses stepped in and eliminated these guys? I mean from the sounds of things, these guys keep on spawning more mini-goddesses and eventually they are going to get the upper hand. "

Bridgett laughed, 

"Oh sure, none of us had that idea. Only two countries have borders with the elves, and those two are trying to 'eliminate' the elves as we speak, the Insect Kingdoms and the Harpy Republic. The pair of them went to war with the elves within days of hearing that Samara had disappeared."

Steve grimaced, "Ah, considering that the war started about one hundred and eighty years ago, it seems the elves aren't pushovers, even when outnumbered two to one."

It was even more incredible the elves hadn't been defeated considering that in the first few years of the war they wouldn't even have had access to the Daughters, which meant no slave armies, or at least incredibly inefficient slave armies. 

It was of course possible that the Insectoids and Harpies just sucked at fighting, but that seemed unlikely when you took into account the whole 'Sapherosian's Worship Strength' angle.

"So how have the elves managed to survive for so long?"

"Not only survive, survive and flourish Steve, in recent years they have managed to push back both the Harpies and Insectoids. Which I imagine is part of the reason the Harpy Republic tried to suck up to you by giving you a 'spear of the gods'.

The answer to their superior military power isn't even remotely magical. The Elves simply started the war with a well-trained, well equipped, professional standing army. 

The Holy Elven Order has been preparing for war with anything non-elven since its creation. It may not have started with a military comprised of slaves at the start, but you can be sure the plans were in place from the start.

The Insect Kingdoms and the Harpy Republic had nothing even close to a unified standing military presence when the war began. None of us did. It was hard enough trying to stop our countries from devolving back into the way they were before the humans arrived. The elves had the advantage in that they have the longest history, and were better able to govern without humanity because of it.

The Insect Kingdoms were at the start of the war nothing more than a loosely aligned grouping of war bands, more used to fighting amongst themselves than any external threat. The harpies were little more than a conglomerate of pirates pretending to be a country.

I am entirely sure that both countries entered the war initially in an attempt not only to grab more land and depose the elves, but also to give their countries a unified enemy, and thus a unified goal. At the time, I imagine they thought the war would be over by summer."

"So I can assume the pair of them have been getting their asses kicked ever since?

So why didn't you or Talia intervene? From what I've seen both your nations are certainly ready for war, and from what I've heard the elves are a threat to everyone." Steve asked.

"You're right Steve, both the lizard-kin and the werewolves are ready for war and have been for some time, but not with the elves. Our two countries are protected from the elves by having the Harpies and the Insectoids between us and them; with that in mind the threat seems distant compared to the animosity between lizard-kin and werewolves.

Our countries were close to falling apart after the humans were killed, we needed an external threat to unite us just as the harpies and Insectoids did. We just happened to choose each other.

Now our countries dare not turn our eyes from one another to gaze at anything more distant. I hope to one day correct that state of affairs, and I believe Talia feels the same, but it will not be today or tomorrow that it happens."

"The Horse-kin?"

"Perfectly happy to send their warriors to hire their services out to the highest bidder in the war, but otherwise they are entirely isolationist. The Horse-Queens are content to let the rest of the world fall to ruin so long as it does not affect them."

Steve nodded. That was enough history and world politics. Now he needed to know exactly why a group of elven supremacists had tried to 'rescue' him in the middle of the night. He didn't really see an obvious motive beyond using him acquire human tech.

"So why did they try and kidnap me?"

"I don't think they want you, so much as they want what's between your legs."

"I'm flattered, I really am, but if they wanted to partake of my genitals, they need only ask. No fat chicks though."

"Steve, I don't think you fully understand," 

Wrong, he fully understood. He just really didn't want to. Sex dungeons were just not his kink. Mostly. BDSM was all about trust, and Steve didn't trust the milkman not to spike his breakfast.

"They don't want you for anything as base as sexual desire. The Holy Elven Order wants you to fulfill the same function as Samara, only with you being a male they could create 'Daughters' on a much larger scale. 

It is entirely possible that with you being fully human, the resulting union would be on the same scale as a current Goddess. If they were to use you to impregnate Samara, then the union may be even stronger than a goddess. It's simply a matter of belief; more human means stronger according to any Sapherosian."

Steve at that moment in time could almost feel the great power that dwelled within his testicles. The power to create gods lay within his nut sack. The creation or destruction of worlds could be decided by his scrotum. It really made all the times he jacked off seem more significant.

Steve put his hands up in supplication, "Ok, if being human is so great, aside from when I'm either in the middle of having sex or about to kill someone, I have an unnaturally fast ability to heal and just about no other magical abilities. 

If I understand you correctly, shouldn't I be flying around firing lightning out my ass? How come you guys are all apparently super strong and live forever just by being part human and I get pretty much zilch?"

Bridgett checked glanced around furtively before whispering to him, "As a human Steve you have no magical ability. You have none, period. Humans have absolutely no magical affinity whatsoever. If there was one fact the first humans who arrived on this world could agree on about magic, it was that they could not use it."

"But I have used magic, I used lightning to fry Kaltek, I was healed during my fight with him. I just lift my gun, and boom, 'lightning'."

"No, what you used was other Sapherosian's magic. When we say 'magic', it is simply an easy way of saying that we are using a Sapherosian's beliefs and having them alter the fabric of reality. 

The more Sapherosians believe something the more powerful the change in reality will be. The number of Sapherosians who believe something will also change the power of the effect. 

As a goddess I am bombarded constantly be the beliefs of my peoples. If I were to let all of it in, my mind would be torn asunder, so I use anti-magic runes to keep most of it out and only let some of it in. 

From there I contain the vaguest thoughts and beliefs in a corner of my mind, and I very slowly purify them until what I have within me is not a belief that demands a certain change in the world, but rather a pure power that I can manipulate to do whatever I desire. 

Sort of like if a Sapherosians believes the goddesses are 'strong', then I can manipulate that desire to make myself faster, as that is simply another application of 'strength'.

With that magic we goddesses can use our powers in ways much more subtle than the original belief. It is a slow process but it is much more effective than using runes, which have a single focus and take a long time to set up, because we have to get a large number of people to associate that rune with a particular concept.

You on the other hand Steve cannot use magic freely. Where a Sapherosians body is like a sponge that takes in magic, your body is like stone. The power simply cannot enter your body, it simply bounces off. This is not to say that magic cannot create change on your body or mind. It simply means that the changes are infinitely more subtle. 

If you were to remain unprotected against magic for years, then I am sure the changes in your body and mind would become more pronounced, like water on stone, the beliefs of Sapherosia would gradually carve themselves into you.", Saltek explained carefully.

'Fat chance of that now I have my ultra-useful anti-magic runes' He took a moment to bask in finally having one secret advantage. It was slow work, but he wasn't going to spend the rest of his days getting pushed around. He just needed to keep building up these small advantages, one trick at a time. He may have liked Talia and Bridgett because of their drive to win at all costs, but that didn't mean they were going to fuck with his life without repercussion.

One does not simply piss off a ruling deity; it's a slow and delicate process.

Bridgett continued on entirely ignorant of his plans for getting even,

"When you say you heal quickly, that is not strictly true. You simply have your wounds closed and bandaged by invisible forces instantly upon receiving them. Your cells won't move any faster to heal you. When you broke your nose, it was instantly reset back in place and the blood clotted. 

Think of it as having a team of doctors around you constantly, who have access to your insides and can perform the most tedious work instantly. 

I imagine the pain stopped because your body was forced to emit much more adrenaline that it would normally allow, that might also explain why you nearly collapsed last night. It was your body crashing."

Steve was genuinely dubious now, "Right, and the voices in my head? The aggressive behavior when I'm aroused? The lightning?"

"The voices in your head are entirely real I'm afraid, as I said, like water on stone the beliefs of Sapherosia will affect you, especially if you have a group of people thinking very intently about you with a very clear cut image of how they expect you to behave at that moment.

The aggressive behavior could simply be the result of your body releasing a lot more hormones than normal than usual in order to fulfill your partners expectations of your sexual prowess. It would not take a lot of belief to create that effect.

The lightning is not your doing. You need the gun to create it, and you need people observing the weapon or thinking intently about it. It is simply a more complicated rune; it collects subconscious belief, uses conscious thought as a trigger, which then creates a single effect. The reason you can use it and no else can is that Sapherosians all believe that only humans can use guns."

...Well shit. In other words Steve's magic was really just smoke and mirrors. Smoke and mirrors that could roast a man to death, but only if he had a crowd of spectators or a group of people thinking about the gun. 

Perhaps he should form a church to worship his gun? 

Not that he planned on using the weapon regularly, he had Sarah for that sort of thing.

He supposed he could just keep using the gun as an actual gun, but considering he had no clue as to what it used for ammunition or how much ammunition it had he didn't want to rely on it. He had a powerful tool to be sure, but it was an unreliable one.

Bridgett evidently tired of explaining moved onto the crux of the reason why she had called him to breakfast with her, 

"I have been informed that your mongrel has refused to allow my guards access to the surviving kidnapper. Tell her to relinquish the prisoner so we can interrogate it and find out exactly who was behind the attack."

Steve made a show of thinking about it before answering, "Hmmmm... No."

"No?", Bridgett was shocked. She was a goddess. People did not say 'no' to goddesses.

Steve shrugged, "Yeah, no."

"I don't think you understand the situation here. I am ordering you to relinquish the prisoner to me.", Bridgetts eyes were taking on a nasty gleam. It reminded him of when he first arrived in the throne room.

"Yeah, and I'm saying 'no'", He stuck to his guns. Figuratively and literally. The gun had not left his hand since the incident last night.

"I can destroy you Steve. You don't get to say no."

"Funny, I could swear that's what I'm saying right now." 

"I am a Goddess."

Steve laughed at that. He was hoping she would say something like that, "One of six goddesses, which kind of cuts down on your negotiating ability.

See, when I first came here you scared the crap out of me with your threats to 'out me' as someone who was essentially an average human and not one of the space faring technologically advanced explorers your people worship.

What you seem to have forgotten is that I'm not a complete retard. I listen to everything, because as lame as it sounds, at the end of the end of the day 'knowledge is power', and you have been happily chatting away to me about the state of affairs in this world.

You are one of six goddesses. Of those other five, two of them claim to have partial ownership over me. What that means is that you can't just 'destroy' me without seriously pissing off two of your rivals." Steve let that sink in,

"Talia may not be my best friend or have my best interests at heart, but she will most certainly need me alive and functional for one scheme or another. Add to that, if what you told me about it being hard for you guys to store magic is true, and that it took three of you to rip me from my own world, I am entirely sure that the third goddess in this little arrangement will be more than just a little annoyed if anything happens to me before she can use me in some insane scheme for world domination.", He grinned,

"Let's face it Bridgett, you aren't really going to risk war with two nations over one crippled bee?"

Steve stood up and walked out, leaving her with a shocked expression on her face. 

It was however really hard to act cool and collected with a two hundred year old deity staring daggers in your back. He was most definitely clenching his butt cheeks as he walked away.

He had no clue if Bridgett was going to hold a grudge for privately slapping her on the wrist, but he wasn't going to be within throttling distance long enough to find out.

Steve needed to secure Sarah and his crippled guest, get the hell out of the lizard-kin capital and get back to 'incredibly relative safety' of the werewolf tribes. Oh, and secure the exclusive services of another bodyguard or two.

Steve couldn't help grinning. Smacking Bridgett on the nose was probably a dumb move, but it felt damn good to be finally getting some small margin of revenge on one of the three people who had damn near killed him a couple of times over. Was he a vindictive son of a bitch? Probably.

Did it feel good?

Hell Yes.

------------------------------------------

Michael watched his daughters and sons sparring with fatherly pride. The white wolves moved with speed and grace above that of even his own warriors. He supposed it was primarily due to the magical conditioning he applied to them at birth, but a small part of him liked to believe it was due to the superior genetics of him and their mothers.




The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 06



He couldn't remain here long unfortunately, even if he would have quite happily watched his small army of children for days. He may not have been able to watch over them individually as they grew, but he was always a central pillar of their lives. He left the more mundane aspects of child rearing to their mothers and a few selected members of his pack.

It was a good system. Even if the mothers hated him for kidnapping them, it was a rare individual who could murder their own child. Incidents did occasionally happen of course, but he had enough pack members who were perfectly willing to step in and take up the role of child rearing in the event a mother took her own life or died trying to escape. The loss of a few pups was inconsequential when compared to the superior genetic stock presented by him kidnapping those who took his interest.

The results spoke for themselves. He watched down on the sparring field as one of his oldest daughters managed to grapple her much older instructor into submission. The older scarred male she had subdued was a member of Michael's pack and a talented warrior, but he was still defenseless before the superior ability of his magically enhanced off spring. 

He watched on with pride as his daughter, evidently happy with the warrior's abilities, claimed what was hers. The male was erect in seconds under her aggressive ministrations, and she quickly impaled herself onto him.

Michael had begun seeing more than a few grandchildren around the place in recent months as his first children came of age and began subjugating those weaker than themselves, usually a mother of one of their half-siblings or one of his guards. 

In the case of his sons, sometimes they were killed in the attack by the imprisoned, but more often than not, the mother ended up being rutted. Michael would have been happy with this, as it was only natural, except that it had ended up with a large number of his younger offspring being killed by their older half-siblings in their need for complete dominance of their newfound mates.

Michael had been forced to keep his youngest offspring as well as their mothers separated from their older-half siblings. 

The mothers of his older offspring had then become even more valuable and now were the primary resource that the siblings fought over. 

Michael couldn't be happier, the constant competition ensured only the most suitable of his offspring survived, and in process gave him grandchildren and thus more soldiers.

His daughters were even worse. It was not uncommon that a male member of Michaels pack went missing on guard duty when they patrolled the massive prison that held Michael's massive family. Sometimes the male would be found days later, his throat slit when could no longer perform as a semen dispenser. 

In some cases they never showed up at all, likely kept hidden somewhere in the depths of the prison. A pretty sad end for a once powerful soldier, but Michael never seemed to run out of volunteers to go on patrol.

He could only thank the Goddesses that his daughters did not feel desperate enough to target their brothers. As it was he simply had to keep a constant supply of males to act as guards. 

He had plenty of female guards as well, and they also had a tendency of disappearing, but they usually just ended up pregnant, not dead.

From an outside perspective this little society he had created would seem lawless. That was not true. He was creating an army of warriors that carried his bloodline. It was only natural that they fight amongst themselves when they had no other enemy before them. It was in their nature to seek out mates and foes when they came of age. Michael would be horrified if they weren't. This place had only one rule; survival of the fittest. The reward for surviving was to procreate and continue the bloodline.

Michael turned from his place overlooking the sparring grounds and moved to his own quarters. 

The cold stone of the underground labyrinth felt cold under his feet as he moved through the halls. It used to be an underground fortress that he had found while scouting the werewolf tribe's borders. 

The place likely pre-dated the arrival of the humans and had certainly been unused for at least a few years before he stumbled across it. He assumed it was lizard-kin in origin because it was subterranean, but to be honest he could care less. It was large and hidden, and that was all he need.

He didn't ever spend more than a few nights in his little hidden spawning grounds. That would arouse too much suspicion, but he did need personal space for when he was focusing on one particular woman; he didn't particularly feel like murdering one of his own sons in a fight over a woman after all. 

She would be kept secure until he was sure she was pregnant. At which point she would be moved into the 'nursery'. Thereafter she would raise his child until it came of age, at which point she would be moved back into the 'public' areas and would likely be claimed by one of his other offspring, at which point the whole process would start again.

He occasionally stopped to speak with a member of his pack, to ensure that the facility was running correctly. It was important he did so; it was usually his commanders who ended up being kidnapped by his offspring, as they were seen as having the best traits. 

As it stood, a majority of his remaining commanders were now females in varied stages of pregnancy. The male commanders he had started with had never been returned or found.

Michael moved into his quarters. They were almost entirely spartan. It contained a few books and a massive desk and a bed. Michael didn't sleep in the bed, it was for one person, and in the entire time that he had been conducting business in the prison it had only been unoccupied once or twice for any period longer than two days. He kept his guest in the bed, usually using chains. Once in a blue moon that wasn't required, but for his latest guest the chains were most definitely needed.

Right now the bed was occupied by the horse-kin mercenary he had captured a week or so ago. He had recently discovered that her name was Sheila, which pleased him greatly. His most recent acquisition having a human name was surely a sign of good favor with the gods.

He was pretty sure that his seed had already taken root in her. As it was he was simply enjoying her body until her belly began to swell with his child. He always enjoyed that. 

To him pregnant women seemed to have a warm glow that simply couldn't be replicated. To know that it was his child in her womb always gave him a warm tingle, even after having seen it so many times with so many different women.

He did love all his children. He felt sad when each died. He felt pride when each succeeded. He may not have been able to personally watch over each of them, but he still cared for all of them. The way they were raised may be seen as harsh, but that was fine. It would only make them stronger. The strong would survive. Michael himself was evidence enough of that.

He rubbed his large hand over Sheila's flat stomach, reveling at the glossiness of her fur. It really was quite impressive considering how long she had spent locked in this room. The sleeping horse-kin was a beautiful sight, from her hooved feet to her muzzle. The scars from the fertility runes only added to her loveliness; they made her more exotic and enticing.

She was pleasantly curved in that motherly way that the Oracle was. That was probably the reason he was so attracted to her.

To be fair, almost all the women he had 'adopted' over the years were motherly in one way or another. If they hadn't been mothers prior to him encountering them, then they certainly possessed traits that would be considered motherly. Specifically large breasts and wide child bearing hips, preferably with just small amount of plumpness that ensured they were soft to the touch.

As he thought of the Oracle he felt his shaft hardening. He hadn't seen her much in recent days; she had spent most of her time with that damned lizard-kin ambassador. It was only this morning that the ambassador had left, for which Michael was incredibly thankful. If the man had spent any more time in the presence of his goddess, he would have torn his head off.

Michael had been annoyed when he had discovered the human was being shipped off as an 'envoy' to the lizard-kin. It had delayed the claiming, but that was all. When the human returned Michael would induct him into the pack and the goddess would be his for the taking. 

The human would be kept comfortable. It would not be smart to anger an envoy of the gods, but Michael had absolutely no intentions of sharing leadership. The Werewolf Tribes would be his and his alone. Once he had full control of his people he would ravage the other nations and bring them to heel. 

Michael felt even more aroused as he considered the conquest of the other races. He knelt down and carefully placed his palm on the sleeping horse-kins heavy breast. The breast felt warm to to the touch and rolled with ponderously with his caresses.

He leaned in even closer and used both hands to play with the left breast enjoying the feeling of it wobbling and jiggling its weighty mass.

He clambered onto the sweaty woman, enjoying the soft sensations of her heated flesh against his own. With practiced ease, he lowered his head to suckle at her breast, eliciting a sigh as he licked his tongue around her areole. 

The hot milk instant began flowing into his mouth and he could feel the density leaving her breast as he drank deeply, kneading with both hands, allowing the breast to fully disgorge it creamy payload. Unconsciously the restrained horse-kin arched her back to allow him greater access, her motherly instincts compelling her to act without thought. 

Very slowly he used his knees to slowly inch her legs open, exposing her damp cunt to the world. Michael could feel her thighs squeezing, trying to get back together. He simply held his knees in place and held them there. 

Michael could feel her beginning to waken, the fact that she hadn't prior to now could likely be attributed to his session with her last night, and damn near every day and night from the day she had been captured. The dried semen around the fur of her cunt and mouth could attest to that.

He ripped his loincloth from himself and began rubbing his oozing head onto her soft belly, adding yet more silvery stains to her black coat. He liked marking it her, it made him feel more than ever that the creature beneath him belonged to him and him alone. When she was here, she was not a horse-kin, a warrior or even a mother. She was his mate.

Her cunt was now radiating heat. She twitched from restive sleep to back-arching hip-raising alertness. She got a split second to see him leaning over her, before he thrust into her, sliding in with practiced ease. 

She simply groaned in response. She had grown tired of threatening him days ago. Now she simply accepted his affections with a bare minimum of resistance. A fairly common reaction. 

Michael was still careful though, she hadn't bitten off his manhood when he took her orally yesterday, but that might have been because she intended to go for the throat and didn't want to miss her chance by acting prematurely.

As painful as having his cock bitten off would have been, it wouldn't have been the first or even the third time it had happened. The women he picked were usually feisty after all, but Michael had healing magic for those occasions where he lost his manhood to an unwilling lover. 

It had been horrifying the first time, but was just painful and inconvenient when it happened these days. He figured he could just avoid oral sex with unwilling partners, but he took a great amount of pleasure in watching a formerly proud opponent gagging on his shaft.

The heat and the wetness of her cunt surrounded his cock. He thrust in again and her hips began rising in return, before he rose up onto his knees grabbed her hips, pushing down into her hard. This was the best position for him to inseminate her. The angle would force his semen down into her womb via gravity.

Her tunnel guided him deeper until he hit her cervix. He barely even slowed; he had penetrated it with the tip of his pointed head days ago and had since enjoyed ejaculating straight into her womb. He continued slamming himself into her. She had groaned in pain when he had first done it, but now she made groans of an entirely different sort.

Even if she hated him, her body was only mortal, and after days of his affections it was reacting to his desire to breed with her. It was only a natural Sapherosian reaction, he was a powerful male who desired to procreate with her. Her body was trying to inform her mind that this was good. In the heat of love making her conscious opinion of her mate was becoming irrelevant as he continued to pound into her love canal.

Michael continued to plunge hard and quick into her, savoring the awesome feeling of penetrating not only her vagina, but also the feeling of his head slipping into her cervix. His heavy thrusts pushed and pulled, sliding along the slick walls of her womanhood.

Finally he could feel her cervix dilate slightly under the pressure of his cock, and slowly he slid into the hot sanctuary of her womb. He was finally violating her most holy sanctuary. Sheila could only gasp, spasm and buck as her vagina squeezed and massaged his invading member. 

Michael was barely moving now, he was simply holding himself with in her and letting her bucking and spasms finish him off. He took a perverse pleasure in letting his captive be the one would force him to spray his seed into her. 

He let loose with a torrent of his cum. Bucking into her as scalding loads sprayed directly into her fertility.

He collapsed onto her. The pair were silent aside from the sounds of heavy breathing as he lay atop her, steam whispering forth into the cold air where sweat covered them. He lay there for a minute before moving to once more nurse from her engorged nipples. 

"...Fucker," She hissed.

Michael ignored her. He had on occasion wondered about the cause for his preoccupation with mother figures, but eventually decided he didn't really care. It made him feel good to nurse from her, anything else was irrelevant.

------------------------------------------------------------

Steve sneezed. It occurred to him that no one had tried to have sex with him in a few hours. Weird.

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Afterword: As ever if you have any comments, criticisms and/or suggestions feel free to comment. I will most definitely read them all and adapt the story accordingly if they are valid and fit with what I'm already doing. I would most definitely enjoy incorporating anyone's suggestions into the story, if I feel it fits.

As ever sorry about the delay, chapter 7 should not nearly take as long.