It wouldn’t be as painful. She sat in her car at the end of her shift at the bank and just took several deep breaths, her feeble attempt at calming herself before she tried to tackle the fun house ride that was the drive home.
Traffic was even more wretched than usual tonight. It figured. It was the perfect shitty end, to a perfectly shitty day. Why did she have to have such an aptitude for a career that she utterly despised? It was the cruelest irony that she happened to have a talent for, but an absolute loathing of the most mind numbing (and sex life killing) career ever.
She was an accountant. And just her luck, it was tax season. It wasn’t bad enough that when most men learned what she did for a living, two things happened: Their eyes glazed over in sheer boredom, and the intimidation level of being with a woman with such an analytical intelligence sent them running for the nearest exit.
She stewed for the forty minute commute back to her small, economic little one bedroom apartment. On the way, she’d thought idly about picking up some Chinese to go, but then thought better of it seeing as she didn’t have much in the way of an appetite. She figured if she got hungry she’d simply toss a Healthy Choice meal into the microwave and drown her sorrows in a good glass of Pino` Noir.
Unlocking her door, she flipped on the light switch, illuminating the depressing altar to spinsterhood before her. In an effort to be frugal, she’d gone rather Spartan with the decor. It looked more like a bachelor pad then the safe haven of a single woman. The only concession to the fact that she even HAD estrogen was a scattering of embroidered throw pillows she’d picked up in a consignment shop. Okay, so she wasn’t Martha Stewart.
She dumped her purse, keys and mail on the small bar that delineated the space between the kitchen and living area, hung her coat in the coat closet and proceeded to pour the first of what would be several glasses of wine. She took her first sip even as she was still setting the bottle back on the counter.
She was halfway through the first glass when she started sorting through her mail. There wasn’t much. Some solicitations, the requisite monthly bills, and a small package wrapped in nondescript brown parchment paper and tied with generic twine. Quirking her brow at it, she set her glass down and proceeded to untie the twine.
The return address left her no clue as to who might have sent it. It was a simple P.O. Box with no name attached to it. Probably some ‘bs’ free samples, she thought. Oh well, maybe a free mud mask and moisturizer would at least perk her up a bit with some self indulgent pampering. With that thought in mind, she tore the paper off. To her surprise, it was a small, ancient looking leather bound book.
The gold foil script on the cover was chipped and faded, and when she lifted the cover, the binding crackled with age and disuse. The pages were tissue thin and so delicate she was afraid she might damage them. Absently she made her way to the couch and sat down. She switched on the lamp on the table beside her and leaned closer to the light.
The title read: Grimorum Devinctionibus. It was Latin. Loosely translated it meant Grimorum Incantation. What the hell was this? Someone sent her a book of spells? What was this, “Harry Potter”? Was she going off to Hogwarts now? She started thumbing through the pages. The majority of the book was all in Latin. Good thing for her it was required coursework in college for her masters. Too many laws were based in Latin origin.
She was about to close the book and set it aside when something caught her attention. It was a passage labeled Decens, The Becoming. Intrigued, she began to read. It was more of a lyric than anything else. And as she sat there reading it, a song began to form in her mind. It was old, familiar, but in a way that stayed elusively out of the reach of true memory. She began to hum it softly to herself.
If she could pride herself on anything other than her mathematical prowess, it was her voice. She’d been singing her entire life. And what was music but notes put to mathematical rhythm? As she hummed, the words on the page drifted into her consciousness and she started singing them to the tune in her head. She felt strange, like a live wire and been threaded through her body making her come alive.
She was singing the passage over and over, louder and louder, each time with increased urgency. She didn’t know why she was doing it and she couldn’t stop. It was compulsive now. Finally, she reached the last crescendo on her latest verse and her voice took on an otherworldly cadence that reverberated off of every wall in her apartment.
Suddenly exhausted, she collapsed back onto the couch. She hadn’t even been aware of standing up, or of her arms being raised to the ceiling with palms outstretched, fingers splayed in open welcome.
She must have dozed. For the next thing she knew, the clock was striking three a.m. But as she sat up and knuckled the sleep from her eyes, she realized that it hadn’t been the chiming of the clock that had woken her. She sensed a presence in the room.
Instantly alarmed, she scanned her surroundings, looking for the intruder. Initially finding none, she slowly stood up and padded silently to the bar and her purse. Being a single Texas woman, she had a conceal and carry license. She quietly pulled the Glock 9mm from her bag and switched the safety to off. Holding it down by her side, she methodically checked every last inch in the seven hundred and fifty square foot living space. Finding no one, she was no less dismayed. She clicked the safety back on the weapon and placed it back in her purse.
She’d been dreaming, she thought to herself. That was all. That was why she’d felt uneasy. Turning off the light in the living room, she headed to her bathroom to clean up a little before she tossed on her nightgown and climbed into bed. She was just finishing rubbing lotion into her arms when she heard a noise behind her. Spinning around, there, standing on the opposite side of her bed was the strangest, most hideous creature she’d ever set eyes on.
It was short, only about three and a half feet tall, with greenish skin peppered with wiry mossy hair, great yellow orbs for eyes, a smashed in nose, like that of a prize fighter that had been broken one too many times, and a wide mouth with thick cracked lips stretched over flat grey teeth.
And it was standing there completely nude! Its squat body was being balanced by a long, thick member that hung from the junction of his stubby legs nearly to the floor.
She screamed and flew off the bed. Even as she turned toward it, her bedroom door slammed shut. She backed herself up against the wall and stared at the creature in sheer panic.
“What the HELL are YOU? What are you doing in my room?” she demanded of it.
It smiled placating her, “You summoned me my lady. I’ve been waiting more than eight hundred years to hear your sweet voice sing my call. I had begun to despair, thinking we’d never find each other again. But alas, tonight, I finally heard our song!”
“What? What are you talking about? I didn’t call for you. I don’t even know what you are. Hell, you’re not even real! This is just a bad dream. A drunken hallucination brought about by too much wine and a bad day.”
His thick wiry brows drew together over his bulbous eyes in sad disappointment. “My queen, you do not remember me.”
“What? I’m not a queen! My name is Nalia and I’m just an accountant,” she stammered.
God, what was she DOING? She was arguing with a figment of her imagination. He held out his arm imploringly. On his ring finger, the light sparked and flashed in the signet he wore. It was a brilliant gold with a deep scarlet gem in the middle and Cris-crossed on top of it was a delicate scroll-work design in gold filament.
“My love, it has been too many generations we have been separated and it’s time for you to reclaim your place at my side.”
Her breathing was still somewhat labored as she stared at this being in both fear and wonder. And that ring. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. She was transfixed by it. Shaking her head no, she edged a little further from him.
“No, you’ve made a mistake. This isn’t real. I’m not who you’re looking for. I’m going to close my eyes, count to ten and when I open them, you’ll be gone and I’ll go to sleep. Or wake up, whichever comes first.”
The effort it took to pry her eyes from that ring was monumental. But she did it. She closed her eyes, and slowly counted, “One, one thousand; two, one thousand; three…”.
When she finally reached ten, she slowly opened her eyes. Immediately she squealed in shocked surprise. Not only hadn’t the creature disappeared, it’d taken the time she’d been counting to move to stand right in front of her. Her heart galloped in her chest, the air in her lungs whooshed out of her in one breath. Everything seemed to stop for one interminable suspended moment. Then the world came rushing back in and he knelt before her with pleading in his eyes.
“My lady, please, I beg you. Don’t make me wait another near millennium for our reuniting. Take my hand.”
He held his hand out to her. His gaze was hypnotic. She couldn’t look away. And without even knowing what she was doing, she took his outstretched hand. He kissed the back of it tenderly. Then he held out the hand adorned with the ring and even as she watched, a small gold antenna extended from the middle of it.
Looking up at her he asked, “Let me touch you with my ring and return you to your full glory.”
Mesmerized, she nodded slowly. He touched the back of her hand with the ring. A soft chime sounded from it, and a strange heated energy surged up her arm and through her body. Her feet collapsed from beneath her then. Her body convulsed and twitched.
Suddenly, it was like she was on fire. There was no pain, just intense heat. She couldn’t feel anything else but the heat. She had no idea what was happening to her. She’d gone momentarily blind and deaf. The only sense she had was touch. And even that was interrupted by this damned overpowering heat.
What was happening to her? Her panic surged again and she struggled to keep her wits about her. Whatever was happening, she was going to need them when it was over if she was to survive. But even as she had that thought, the intense burning began to subside. She calmed along with it. After a little while, it seemed she was suspended in some kind of sedate stasis and she allowed herself to just go with it. Just float.
The creature stood and watched eagerly as his love was slowly cocooned. Her body had shrunk; her arms and legs melding into her frame until all that was left was this pulsing green pod. Soon enough, she would emerge. But for now, he would wait. And while he waited, he would make the necessary preparations to return them to their world.
Within her cocoon which had grown still, she was in total darkness. She was blind and nearly insensate, as if she’d been plunged into a sensory deprivation chamber.
Eventually her senses began to come alive once more, and every nerve ending started to sing. She was aroused, more so than she’d ever been in her life. She detected a scent, musky, but sweet; heady, in the way of fine liquor.
As that scent enveloped her, she felt her mouth begin to water. She was hungry, for what she didn’t know yet. But the yearning she was feeling was only growing in intensity. Soon she would be emerging. She could sense it. And when she did, it would be extraordinary.
The creature was finished with the incantations necessary to open the portal between this realm and his own. As soon as his love emerged from her cocoon, the transformation would be complete and her small dwelling would be the permanent passageway between worlds so he could finally conquer the mortal realm as he’d been meant to all those centuries ago.
Soon she became aware of being touched, investigated, explored. She felt more than just hands caressing her. She felt mouths and tongues. And when she reached out, she felt the erotic lines of male perfection and female sensuality.
She closed her fingers around a large thick shaft and began to stroke it without thought to what she was doing. She was riding on pure sensation. She felt a soft probing tongue between the folds of her throbbing sex and groaned with the desperation of the neglected.
She opened her mouth and devoured the thick cock she’d been stroking, voraciously pulling on it with lips and tongue. Swallowing it down, she took it impossibly deep. And still she wanted more. She spread her legs wide, welcoming, indeed imploring someone to fill her aching emptiness.
And her invitation was eagerly accepted. She felt a huge thick cock stretch and fill her so completely she feared she might be split in two. It thrust and pounded her almost virgin tight canal vigorously. She cried out her pleasure, louder and louder in spite of the cock muffling her mouth.
Fingers and teeth alternately pulled and tugged at her aching nipples, and she even began to register something soft and wet probing her puckered ass. Her enthusiasm was growing with each new sensation. And eventually she felt the throbbing climax of the cock in her mouth against her tongue.
She eagerly lapped up every last drop of cum, savoring the unique taste. And still she wasn’t sated. Her mouth sought more. And more she would have, for cock was quickly replaced with the familiar, and yet alien contours of female sex.
She probed and explored with lips and tongue, relishing the sweet and tangy flavor, the musky scent. She French kissed labia and clitoris, tongued as deeply as she could the geography inner pussy walls.
She slid her fingers inside and teased and thrust while her mouth conquered until she felt the pulsing grip of climax and tasted the gush of orgasmic juices. It was intoxicating and she was happy to become an addict.
When both her ass and her sweet center were filled to bursting, she wept with the pleasure of it. Both thick cocks were thrusting and pounding; sometimes together and sometimes alternately, but always intensely electrifying. And screaming out her orgasm she was ready to be reborn.
He felt it when she’d reached her potential, when she was once again his queen ready to emerge. He looked on in eager anticipation as her cocoon again began to pulsate until finally, it was rent down the middle. Long green vine tendrils slid through the divide and breached the leathery envelope even more.
The vines invaded the small space of her bedroom and an explosion of green overtook every surface, merging this world with that of his. The portal was opening! Soft mossy grass sprung up underfoot and the ceiling dissolved above his head to open up to the night sky above. But it wasn’t the sky over the apartment complex in which this space dwelled it was the sky of his domain.
The starlight was breathtaking and it illuminated the space, now dusky with the encroaching green, almost as brightly as the mortal world’s full moon would. Night sounds emerged, insect buzz, night birds song and fairy mischief. His was a world of magic and wonder, nothing at all like the mundane that the mortal world had become.
The loud sounds of wood cracking, twigs splintering and leaves rustling announced the emergence of the forest exploding to life around him. But his focus was only for his queen as he awaited her arrival.
She was becoming. She was remembering. Her name was Newlyn, and she was queen to Maccus the Troll King. They held dominion over the magical realm of Osteria. It was a world of enchantment and mystery, myths and legend. Centuries ago they’d been torn apart by betrayal and a curse.
But no longer. She was restored to her former glory. Nude, she stretched languorously before stepping from her cocoon. There stood her king, his stout form as familiar to her as the contours of her own flesh. Smiling, she padded barefoot across the soft, mossy forest floor to him.
She bowed her head, her raven locks tumbling to cover her firm breasts. Her petite frame was built like a dancer’s, slender, with long toned muscles and graceful lines. Her eyes were shining emeralds bordered by thick feathery lashes, her lips full and ripe. Her cheekbones looked to have been hand sculpted by the heavens in her heart shaped face.
“My king, Gods how I’ve longed to return to you, trapped as I’ve been these interminable centuries.”
“My beautiful queen, my deepest love, come to me and reclaim your place at my side.”
She knelt before him, kissed his ring, then his mouth. Her tongue sought out his and she was finally able to taste him after such a painful absence. They embraced passionately, holding tightly to each other. Then, breaking the kiss, she loosened her hold on him only to kiss her way down his body and wrap her mouth around his long, firm member. She was, after all, a nymph.
Maccus closed his eyes and leaned his head back as his queen pleasured his cock. Gods how he’d missed her. Though he hadn’t denied himself in all these centuries, for that was not their way, no nymph, nor fairy, nor magical temptress had been able to fulfill his needs the way his queen could. He stroked her head as her mouth stroked his member.
Even as she worked him into a frenzy one of his smaller, but well endowed minions scurried over to them and mounted her from behind. She moaned in ecstasy and the vibrations sent echoing waves of sensation up his cock and throughout the rest of his body.
The minion produced a second cock with which he presently penetrated her supple rear canal. She tightened around him and began bucking backward, her hips undulating like a well oiled piston, all whilst impaling her mouth on her king’s throbbing shaft.
The lovers exploded into climax at precisely the same time, and she screamed her pleasure even as she marveled at his taste as it flooded her mouth. She milked him dry, not willing to part with a drop. When at last her king was finished in her mouth, she pulled away from the minion who was still ministering to her ass and pussy, turned to face him and quickly finished him off with lips and tongue.
“Thank you m’lady Queen.”
She thanked him in turn and sent him on his way. The minion bowed in respect and departed. She turned to her husband king then and they held each other long and hard. After a few moments they pulled apart.
“Now that you know who you are, it’s time to replenish our kingdom to its former strength and glory. We must find your handmaidens. It is time that they remembered who they are.”
In every incarnation of the mortal world that she had endured, she’d always managed to keep her most trusted circle of handmaidens in her life in some form or another. Sometimes they were family to her, a mother, a sister, a cousin. Other times, they were a collection of friends, acquaintances, neighbors.
There were five women, five nymphs in mortal form that needed to be released from their curse and join her and her king. One was her sister Shea; another, her neighbor Imogen two apartments over; her two best friends, twin sisters Keira and Kayla; and finally her associate at the firm, Errin. She couldn’t wait to restore them all, to bring to them the becoming.
She turned to her husband king, “My love, are your powers restored enough to take the form of a man once again?”
“Indeed they are my lovely.”
With a flick of the hand adorned with the ring, the air shivered and simmered around him, blurring his form, until he stood before her in all male perfection. He now towered over her, broad shouldered and well cut. His hair a rich chestnut, thick and long, reaching to just above his shoulder blades. His eyes were now a tawny gold, piercing and warm in his broad and chiseled, handsome face.
He held out his hand to her, and in it was a necklace. It was her necklace, the conduit for her magic. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. On a delicate chain of the finest filigree platinum, the emerald pendant sparkled under starlight. Indeed, little filaments of light flickered from within the powerful gem itself.
She plucked it reverently from his palm and fastened it around her neck. The breath exploded from her lungs as her power was returned to her, slamming back into her with the force of a cannon. She cried out in triumph, her arms spearing toward the sky.
“It is time my lady.”
“Yes. And as regretful as it is to say, we must cover ourselves in human garb as we collect our treasures. We don’t wish to cause a scene too soon.”
They manifested their clothing, common casual wear suitable to the times. He in fitted jeans and a tight cotton thermal long sleeved graphic T, and she in the taupe slacks and silk blouse she’d worn to the office that day. In the middle of their forest was the door that had once opened onto her apartment. It now stood alone in a clearing leading, to all appearances, nowhere.
In fact, if one opened it, they’d find themselves in the hallway of her apartment building. King and queen exited their realm together, hand in hand. Their first stop would be Imogen. They walked to stand in front of her door and Newlyn knocked sharply.
To be continued…