Thread: Passing Strange

Thank you Majesty!!

For confirming that it's not just vanity on my part making me like it so much. It can be hard to tell, especially when you're in the process or when it's still newborn - the pride can be overwhelming and can blind you to the reality of what you're making.

It struck me last night that what I'm writing is a very subtle form of erotica - or what in Shakespeare's day would have been called a Ribald or Bawdy Tale, though really what I'm doing is far too weak to qualify for Ribaldry. It's a form of sexual farce, but not the kind where everybody is running around getting laid - more the kind where the hapless 'hero' keeps trying but fails miserably. Only my character isn't even trying really, only enjoying the company of the many females he's surrounded by in his rather sad way - sort of an erstwhile contemporary Woody Allen, but not as funny or charming or Jewish - and at the same time, sort of a male Alice thrust into a strange rabbit hole and surrounded by powerful sexual figures he's unprepared to deal with.

I'm really surprising myself constantly with the symbolism and the way it all links together (Hah! See, even there... links - fits right in with all the sausage symbolism!). Most of it is just happening without my realizing it - example the Sign of O being held low against the abdomen - it didn't occur to me until after I wrote it that that's right where the sword had gone in. Originally it just seemed like a good way for a secret cult to hide their symbols (like the sign of the cross) from prying eyes. This story truly seems to be writing itself in large part - I just have to keep it going and go with the flow and the magic happens before my astonished eyes.

The part that sucks is when I realize after posting a chapter that something needs a little editing, and then I lose any Likes on that chapter. I treasure those Likes! Far more than any on the rest of the board.

I suppose you could say what I'm writing here is a subtle erotica for the literate - Literotica if you will.

Nine

Out of the Closet - Into the Frying Pan

(Or - Zha_Zha's Amazing Ass)

It's really the first time since this thing began there's been real laughter - and it's dangerous. Here in these stone-walled corridors it probably rings out - carries far into the Castle. But it seems safe enough because in both the kitchen and the Grand Ballroom there's noise aplenty to mask it. Plus much of the sound must be getting absorbed by all the tapestries, drapes and wall hangings in the Royal Bedchamber.

Xey is doing somersaults and backflips to accentuate the hilarity of the moment, and it's good to see Doreenema's dark Amazon face lit with real joy for the first time. At my expense, but oh well. A worthwhile sacrifice.

The King walks over to a nearby dresser and looks in the mirror. He removes his plain silver tiara, takes up a black wig from a velvet-upholstered wig -head next to the mirror and places it on his head, covering his own shorter black hair. Surprisingly, it actually pulls his look somewhat together, reducing the stark ridiculousness of his initial appearance. He stands taller, admires himself from various angles, and, deciding to keep it, places the tiara on top once again. His raven tresses now fall in gently curling cascades to slightly past the shoulders, and it accentuates the thin scrubby growth of beard that's trying to emerge across his broad squarish jaw.

He's actually quite a masculine looking man I notice, which was hard to see amid all the drag. His hands are large and strong-looking, and his arms and legs, though skinny and knob-kneed, are sturdy and covered with black hair. All in all he presents a rather ridiculous image, like Ernest Borgnine wearing a dress. Completely incongruous. Now he selects a dark crimson lipstick and begins to apply it carefully.

Xey's tumbling clownery has somehow resulted in his coming up right against Doreenema and banging against the large ornate basket hilt of her Main Gauche - a move that might have been accidental or perhaps calculated. He asks her something about it and a moment later she draws it from the sheath to show it to him. Curious, I step closer - I had never seen one before.

"Main Gauche is French for Left Hand - it's the left hand weapon, to be used alongside the Rapier mainly for blocking and parrying - think of it as a sort of small shield with a large dagger blade attached. Very handy for fending off a sword that's got past your initial guard."

She draws the long slim Rapier and tosses it lightly hilt-first toward Xey, who adroitly catches it by the grip and does an elaborate courtly bow with it held before him ending in a comical En Garde. She brings up the small but very thick broad blade of the Main Gauche with a clash against the longer blade and they pantomime a rapid duel, he comically and she with deadly precision, miraculously blocking his every slice and thrust (none of which are of course aimed anywhere near her). She's using only her left arm, the one encased in heavy plate armour.

Suddenly she sweeps in past his sword behind him and grabs him in a tight clutch around chest and throat at once with her bare arm, bringing the stout little blade up to his lower abdomen.

"It's also good in a clinch, when you're in too close for swordplay, as a stabbing weapon." It rapidly touches several points along the front of his torso and throat, any one of which would result in a fatal wound. "But the coolest thing about it - the ones that are made right anyway" she continues, withdrawing the deadly little weapon from the vicinity of his neck "It has a Sword-Breaker."

She holds it upright for our inspection. Several deep wide cuts have been made in the thickest part, near the base of the broad blade.

"Touch here" She indicates a spot on the rug with her black-booted toe where Xey obediently places the point of the Rapier. She now engages it with her short thick blade, catching it in one of the slots, trapping it with a savage downward pressure that bends the longer blade back dangerously against the floor and begins to pull him forward off balance. Rapidly her booted foot lifts and comes down hard on top of the flexed blade, forcing it harder toward the floor and yanking poor Xey now completely off his balance.

He tumbles forward, for once not of his own doing, and his face clangs against her smoothly burnished breastplate, slides down and ends up planted firmly in her rippling washboard abs. She grabs him by his spiky straw-colored hair and pulls him away, helping him back to his feet, his face turning red as a beet.

"Oh Bravo!!!" Shouts the King, clapping rapidly and practically jumping up and down in joy at this display of swordsmanship. "Totally Pwned! But not unhappy about it I'd say." Indeed it was not only embarrassment coloring Xey's shocked face.

She takes the sword from his slack hand and returns it to its scabbard, and it's smaller cousin as well. "But enough play." she warns. "We had best be on our guard. Saffron's little concert could be ending any time - and when it does the Black Queen is going to be wondering what happened to her pretty little pet. And looking for her defrocked King as well I'll vouch."

She strides to the large doorway, a dozen meters away on the far side of the Bedchamber, and takes up a sentry post there. Very intelligently I think, she opens one of the double doors and positions it so she can look at the reflection in the glass without being seen herself from the corridor.

Damn.

This chick is seriously badass!


Meanwhile, the King has applied some deep green eye shadow and black eyeliner and rouged up his cheeks a bit too much, and is now hanging a pair of tiny dangly teardrop-shaped silver earrings from his earlobes. Clip-ons I assume. He finishes up, turns dramatically away from his reflection, and claps his hands sharply twice in very Diva-licious fashion.

"Alright people. Listen up. If this is to be my rescue (and I shudder to think it - egads!) then we have to get a few things out of the way right now. First introductions. My name is Ominous_Diddy - former God/King of all DV and Lord of Castle Ominous, which of course has recently become Castle Neener - passing over to my cold-hearted bitch of a wife along with my dignity, my manliness, and everything else I once owned. You can call me OD if you want, or Ominous, though I prefer Diddy or better yet O_Diddy. As I like to tell anyone who will listen, I came before P Diddy. And it's best if said with the proper emphasis to it - like Oh, Did he? And if anyone dares call me Bo_Diddly I'll have your guts for garters!"

"Ominous_Diddy... ?" I ponder. A strange name for a King.

"Yes, do you have a problem with it, Lion-O? I think it used to be something different, before everything changed. Something more suited to a powerful God/King. But alas now my identity has been changed along with my name - and I'm deposed as well. A lowly failed commercial jingle writer now as far as I can tell, though I believe these are false implanted memories. Diddy of course being a little tune."

He strolls over to another table on which lie various musical instruments of the small, handheld variety - a harmonica, a flute, a pair of castanets and the like. He picks up the flute and gives it a quick test-play. Worse by far than Saffron's Discordion music - for while the notes of that deadly instrument are horrid and off-key, it produces a deeply pleasing hypnotic tone at the same time. Diddy's music does nothing of the sort - just sounds like he's never played before.

Suddenly the Amazon woman is running across the room, amazingly without the slightest sound despite all her armour and weapons. "They're coming. And they're not happy. Out."

She leads the panicked charge out through the wide French doors across the portico and into the courtyard. I pick up poor little Zombie-Muffin and carry her in my arms, like you'd carry a child to her bed when she's fallen asleep.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later we're piling into the stables. Late afternoon is drawing a blue curtain on the day. The appointed hour of dusk is almost upon us, which is when Zha_Zha told us to meet her here.

The stables are large and roomy, like everything else on the Castle grounds. Rustic. All knotty grey wood and straw and old ropes and battered lanterns hanging everywhere from rusty nails. Lots of empty stables in this section and nothing else. We move forward along the wide corridor between rows of stables. Ahead in a stable to the right is the first living thing we've seen in here, a smallish donkey. As we draw quietly nearer we see there's a woman bending down beside it apparently washing its legs with a soapy pail and brush.

She's bending over very low with her back turned to us in a heavy cornflower blue dress, but I instantly recognize Zha_Zha, the head Kitchen Maid who saved us earlier.

She looks back over her shoulder at us, smiles brightly and rises to come greet us, wiping the soapy water from her hands on her apron as she comes.

The first thing she does is lift Zombie_Muffin from my arms and stand her on the straw-strewn hardpack floor, drop to a knee, and grasp her face with both hands in a concerned motherly gesture, getting her own face very close.

"There wasn't time in the larder to take a good look at this poor little one. How long has she been like this?"

"Maybe a day?" I answer, not at all sure really. The passage of time is strange here and I have no way to know exactly how much of it passes between my visions when I seem to be in a deep blackout state.

She pulls the foam-dripping mouth open, puts a couple fingers inside and feels around. "She's still teething. They're like this at first, but it only lasts a couple days - no telling exactly how long. Start off weak and purposeless, but then the hunger and the jaw strength grows rapidly, and soon she'll be a land shark, biting and devouring everything and virtually unstoppable. When she reaches that stage there's nothing to be done for her anymore except a mercy killing, but if she can get the right help before that happens, she can still be restored."

You can feel relief flood the room.

"What's the right kind of help?" I ask.

"Magic. Powerful magic. The kind that doesn't exist anymore in this place." She now casts imploring eyes on the King. "unless you can get him his powers back."

Doreenema is using her Main Gauche to cut three-foot lengths of rope she's found hanging on a nail and tying the water jugs to each end of these strips by their handles. She hangs these over the Donkey's back so a pair of jugs rests on either side. Zha_Zha starts handing her rolled blankets and bundles which she also starts fastening to the animal.

"Oh, you're gonna LOVE my Ass!" Zha_Zha gushes, face lighting up like a christmas tree. "Everybody says it's the best!"

We all exchange puzzled glances, eyebrows lifting and trying once again not to burst out laughing.

"I wish you could all ride my wonderful Ass, but of course you won't all fit. Not at the same time anyway. But you can take turns. I guarantee you'll all love it!" She reaches out and slaps the Donkey on its round flank, and comprehension dawns.

"Donkey." King Diddy stage-whispers so we can all hear. "An Ass is a Donkey."

"But of course you'll need more." She adds. "Even my Ass, as fine as it is, can't handle you all. I think I can get you a horse too, but I'm gonna have to distract the Stable boy. You two, come with me." She indicates me and Xey and whirls to walk off down the broad corridor between the stables. Along the way she picks up a boombox which she hands to me to carry, and she begins untying her apron as she walks. She whips it off and hangs it on a nail in passing, then fiddles momentarily with the heavy blue skirt, which she whips off a moment later to hang on another nail, still walking rapidly.

Xey and I gulp and exchange incredulous glances. This woman is taking her clothes off right in front of us!!

And she's got some very nice legs. Sturdy and stout, but very shapely, bulging slightly toward the top the way a woman's legs should. They're bare except for white sneakers and the bottom edge of her light beige peasant blouse which hangs frustratingly halfway to the back of her knees.

Now her hands reach for the lacings of the tight corset binding her waist. She casts a wide-eyed glance overshoulder toward Xey and says "Undo me?"

He complies, struggling briefly with the complicated lacings but working them loose enough for her to shrug off the corset and hang it on the next nail.

Now we pass a stable on the right with a brokendown old swayback plowhorse standing dejectedly in it. This must be the one she's attempting to obtain for us. A quick double-tap of her hand on the railing indicates that it is.

Just ahead the corridor ends in a wall with a door slightly ajar in it, light spilling through the crack. She whips off the peasant blouse, tossing it to Xey, grabbing the boombox from my hand and bursting through the door spectacularly - dressed now only in bright orange booty shorts with "Got Ass?" printed in block letters across the back and a tight white tanktop.

Even knowing the danger, we can't help but look through the door and watch her stride across the large room toward a spacious stable with a magnificent stallion in it being groomed by a tall slender black man with a shaved head. He's lighter-skinned than O, leaner, and seems younger.

Zha_Zha presses a button on the boombox and Girls Girls Girls by Motley Crue starts playing loud. She bends supplely from the waist, sets it on the ground without slowing her forward momentum, and walks directly toward an upright pole standing in the center of the room, her wide womanly hips moving hypnotically from side to side.

"Hello Akorno, my little Stable boy." She purrs, grasping the pole with one hand and planting a foot against the base of it. He turns from the stallion, his full attention now riveted on her as she swings up into a graceful spin around the pole.

"Whew!" I gasp. "Most amazing transformation I've seen in all my life!"

"Yeh" Xey agrees. "Total MILF."

The stable boy moves to a chair set up facing the pole where he can get a nice unobstructed view and settles in to enjoy the show.

Just then we're both wrenched up off our feet by strong arms gripping the back of our waistbands. Sort of like wedgies, but by the pants, not the underwear. Before we know what's happening we're lifted effortlessly into the air and deposited unceremoniously onto the back of the dejected old plow horse, which is now standing in the corridor just behind us, and we're both bent over and wincing in pain.

Doreenema.

Damn that girl is strong!

She smacks the horse's rump and gets it moving toward the other stall where King Diddy, Zombie_Muffin and Zha_Zha's amazing Ass await.

Her OTHER amazing Ass.

I've been in one of those moods all day in which I just want to kill everything. Not even a walk helped. But reading this made everything better.

The 'ass' confusion had me laughing out loud which really is rare for me.

^ Best. Comment. Yet.

Even better than the one by anonymous. Your character has become amazing! Best one in the story so far I think (though Zha_Zha is coming up fast).

I LOVE my life right now.

It's perfect.

I'm unemployed and currently have no demands on my time - got enough money put away to live on for some time - fall is in the air, and I'm writing far and away the best thing I've ever written.

Every day is entirely structured around writing the day's chapter. When I'm not typing, I'm THINKING about it - always. Always.

Some mornings I wake up recalling a dream or two that I quickly scribble down, most I wake up and immediately pick up thinking about the story right where I left off before I fell asleep.

This is the pre-breakfast part, where I check for any comments and write a little blurb to keep the excitement peaked.


Coming up in today's installment -
More of Zha_Zha's Amazing Ass. A long sweaty ride with Doreenema sandwiched in the middle. Our erstwhile band of intrepid rescuers begin to get up close and personal. And we finally reach the real centerpiece of the story - a philosophical discussion concerning the fugitive nature of identity and reality. It's the ideological centerpiece, but we're a bit past the midpoint chronologically - probably about three quarters or so. With the best yet to come.

Oh, and we learn more about SaffronAxe's little pet spiders.... they play a very big part.

Adios for now muchachos...

Breakfast is done. (It was chili ). About to begin. But I want to say...

Never have I written so much so fast. Never has it flowed so beautifully. Never have I worked with such amazing characters (!!!). Rarely have I ever written this much on a single story. In fact, most of my stories lie unfinished - I've probably only finished 7 or 8 of them, if that many. And this one will be finished.

I had a bit of an unpleasant revelation concerning my character (in the story - my STORY character!) (Well, mostly). In typical brutal writerly self- examination I will deal with it in the context of the story. A bit later. Stay tuned.

Now... *cracks knuckles* let the day's writing commence.

First section of today's chapter:

Ten

Long. Hard. Rode.

It takes us maybe 10 minutes to prepare - get all our gear slung and hung on the animals. Then we walk them quietly as we can away from the sound of Zha-Zha's boombox, which has now gone through Cherry Pie by Warrant and currently Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar On Me. Xey and I exchange a wistful grin - oh how we'd love to be in that room right now!

The sound fades behind us as we pass through one of the small inconspicuous stable gates - which incidentally are a great way to pass unnoticed onto or off of Castle grounds. It's nearly full dark now, but a pale moon lights the rugged scrubby hillsides stretching away before us to the horizon.

King Diddy swings up without hesitation onto the donkey and lifts Zombie_Muffin up in front of him, laying her over its shoulders face down, which I suppose is probably the best way for her to ride in her current condition. "Well, what of it?" He challenges - "I'm the deposed God/King - who better to ride out of town on an ass?"

And that settles it. Doreenema has already hoisted herself up into the center of the plowhorse's alarmingly bowed back and reaches down to pull Xey up in front of her. Next she pulls me up behind her and we're ready to begin our long ride - to wherever it is we're headed.

But just before we depart a small door a few meters away swings open and Zha_Zha comes running out, wearing only the white sneakers and light beige peasant blouse (that we can see anyway), bare legs flashing as she runs through the brambles and heavy scrub brush.

"Zha_Zha!" I call out gladly.

"I know right!" She says, "Doesn't my name sound like a Swedish girl saying Ja, Ja!"

Makes us all chuckle for a moment. I'm amazed at the boundless youthful energy and enthusiasm this woman has.

She goes straight to the donkey and starts scratching it behind the ears. "I'm gonna miss my little May. My perfect ass."

O_Diddy screws up his face for a moment. "You named your ass May?"

"Of course - May always follows April!" She leaves us puzzling over that one.

"Take good care of her, won't you?"

"Of course dear woman!" Diddy assures her warmly, laying a friendly hand on her shoulder. "You are an absolute saint! And if it's humanly possible, we'll bring her back to you safe and sound. Or at the very least leave her someplace where there's good grazing and plenty of clean water."

"Oh, all you have to do is smack her on the rump when you're done with her - she'll run right back the way she just came. Tie the horse to her as well, she'll lead him back, if this poor old thing survives the journey." She rubs the horse's muzzle warmly for a moment. Then from somewhere in her clothing she produces a riding crop and hands it to Diddy.

"If my ass misbehaves you need to spank it - spank it good and hard. I mean really lay into it - she needs to know who's in charge. She can take it - my ass is really built to handle it rough. She'll eat up terrain like this with no problem, and give you the smoothest ride imaginable. Nobody has got an ass like mine!"

Something about the way she's standing hands firmly planted on swelling hips, chin high, smiling cockily tells me that she's not entirely unaware of the subtext. Perhaps this is her way of keeping our spirits high as we depart on a dangerous ride that could lead us to our graves. I don't know but she's a real whirlwind of positive energy and right now I couldn't love her more.

I bend down and take her hand and kiss it in courtly fashion. "Thank you so much - for everything. I sincerely hope we see you again."

She pulls me down farther with her hands mussing my hair and kisses me on top of my head, then again on the cheek, then repeats that affectionate gesture for everyone. Then she reaches up under the edge of the peasant blouse with both hands and wriggles around a little, sliding something down her legs - and extends her hand to me with her bright orange booty shorts dangling from it. The ones that say GOT ASS? on the back. She quickly rolls them up and tucks them into my pocket. Doreenema turns her head away quickly and laughs out loud - one irrepressible bark.

"When you return to the Castle, if you need to sneak in unnoticed, show these to the stable boy. He'll know they're mine - he should, he's been staring at them for ten minutes. It's a signal - this way he'll know you really know me, and that I sent you off on this journey. I'll tell him to sneak you in to me in the Castle. Now go!" And she smacks her donkey's ass hard.

"Wait!" I look back as the plowhorse starts to move with the donkey. "What about the stable boy? Is he still... ?"

"Oh don't worry about HIM!" She gushes with an infections broad grin and a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "He did hear something at one point - I had to come down off the pole and play Horsie in his lap for a while, but that stopped him from getting up. In one sense anyway. Now he's - exhausted. Sleeping I believe - at any rate I left him draped over the chair like dirty laundry. He'll sleep it off in a few hours."


And we're off.

I look back and she's standing making the Sign of O low against her belly.

"O Holy Knight." She says quietly. "O Silent Knight. He made not a sound as the blade went in." Well that's just not true. I was there, I know. Well, sort of there anyway - though I don't really understand how. Disembodied somehow.

"Hmmm - that has the ring of mythologizing." Diddy muses. "And the legend grows bigger."

* * *

Lol. This is amazing. Great work, Dark.

"So" King Diddy announces. "I suppose this is our Yellow Brick Road. Not much to look at, is it?"

And it really isn't. Hardly even a trail really, more a patchy path wandering along stony hard ground through stands of dry weeds and little thorny bushes, sometimes disappearing entirely for stretches, forcing us to search for it at times.

My ass is jammed back hard against the plowhorse's sharp bony hips, and I'm wedged in tight between them and Doreenema's narrow but decidedly not bony ones (yeah - I think you can see what's coming here... ). And with every step I'm thrown back and forth, up and down and jostled violently from side to side. A more uncomfortable ride I could not imagine! Like riding on a tractor with square wheels and a big spring under the seat.

And to make it worse, thanks to the horse's swaying back, when I go down Doreenema goes up - when I go forth, she goes back.

Great.

Just what I need - here under the malicious influence of the mysterious Amygdala, and especially knowing the contempt Doreenema has for the male libido. I can already tell this is going to be the longest, most mortifying ride of my life. And not surprisingly, my suspiciously augmented libido begins to well up in short order.

No... pleeeease! Not now - not here! If I were a religious man I'd pray - I'd offer anything to be free of this steadily and rapidly rising impulse.

Not Margaret Thatcher. Not Julia Child. Not Ernest Borgnine. Not even Rosanne Barr can stop it. Not even all of them making out with Rosie O'Donnell. It wells up and takes over - stronger than ever. It's hard to believe she can't feel it - in fact impossible. I can feel that she can feel it. Oh if only I could be the one riding Zha_Zha's ass right now! Oh god no - why did I have to think about Zha_Zha's Amazing Ass?

Though I suppose it could be worse - I could be seated behind Xey or King Diddy. Considering the alternatives, this is probably the best possible arrangement (for me anyway), and I won't say that I'm not enjoying it on some level - quite a bit in fact... but let's not forget - this is a deadly Amazon warrior bouncing up and down between my legs, and she's made it abundantly clear that she's not down with the sexual play. And she's heavily armed. Which I am not.

Her back really is lovely though - supple and strong but not overly muscled and broad-shouldered like a bodybuilder - more like a female athlete. Narrow hips, medium wide shoulders, tapering waistline, pale blemish-free skin... and the moonlight picks out just the faintest silvery peachfuzz along the curves of her lower back. Which keeps flexing and swaying provocatively in time with the sinuous movements of this damned horse.

Her back is criss-crossed with various leather straps and buckles - some holding on the breastplate, some the armour on her left arm, and there's some kind of band of cloth that must be whatever she's wearing under the breastplate. Hm... now I'm wondering... Does she wear anything under it? Well of course she does - that metal would get awfully cold, and I can see some kind of fabric strap right there... pretty narrow though. Wonder if it's any wider in front?

Oh dear god I must stop this!! Mustn't look. Though it's far too late for that to help at all really. Hell, might as well enjoy the view if I'm about to die. If this Amazon doesn't kill me for what I'm doing inadvertently to her lower back then I may yet die when we reach our goal - whatever that may be. Her chestnut hair is really nice as well - thick and naturally curly - almost more kinky I'd say. Keeps brushing against my face, my lips - and gee it smells terrific. This is not helping either.



"Um - So." I break the silence a little too loudly. "Exactly where are we going, and what is it we're supposed to be doing?"

"Why of course my dear boy, we're journeying to a far and frightening land! Don't you know, the heroes must always pay a visit to the Underworld. It's a terrifying place, full of bad scary things, but it's where they find the magic weapon or charmed amulet that allows them to save everyone." And King Diddy goes into a rather alarming fit of chuckling and snorting that makes me begin to doubt his sanity.

"Ok - so, what exactly is it we're going there to obtain then?"

He's laughing now - a little too much, a little too high-pitched, even considering the weird falsetto he uses to try to sound female (which sounds fake as hell by the way). It seems like he didn't hear my question. After a while his hysterical bout begins to taper off. But then he quietly mutters something in a wistful, faraway voice that almost sounds masculine.

"Lucy... oh my dear sweet Lucy... "

But his eyes are closed now and his head hung down sadly - it's clear he's entered a private reverie and is not to be disturbed.


And meanwhile we've covered another grinding rubbing swaying mile. Never in my life has it been so hard... so impossible to ignore something so blatantly, even painfully obvious.

And painful is right - I'm not used to riding horses, and things have been - rubbing in some weird ways. Chafing really bad in fact. And let's not forget - just before this little ride began, back at the end of chapter 9, Doreenema hoisted me and Xey quite abruptly by our waistbands up onto this damn horse, which did not feel good let me assure you!! Oh my poor wounded male pride! So far this has been one incredibly punishing adventure.

But the punishment is far from over. On it goes - into the night. Mile after mile.

Some padding would be nice. I think about Zha_Zha's rolled up booty shorts, stuffed into my pocket. Um ok no.


This is getting truly unbearable. The pain of chafed skin and abraded flesh overcomes the pleasure that for a while balanced it out, and I can stand it no longer. There's wetness now too - most of which I'm sure is blood. I decide to push myself back up onto the horse's sharp bony hips, however terrible that may prove to be. Unfortunately doing it involves first grabbing Doreenema firmly by her swaying hips and then wriggling my way back and up against the horse's irresistible rhythm. And then I find I must keep holding onto her hips or I'll immediately be thrown forcibly right back against them bodily.

She looks back at me strangely. Looking a bit annoyed.

But this is impossible anyway - the horse's bony hips are cutting and smashing me in terrible ways. So I give up and let myself slide right back down and nestle against her backside once again. This brings an even more annoyed look from her.

"Doreenema... " I begin, not sure how to word my apology. "I'm SO sorry... I can't help it. If there was anything I could do to stop it I would... "

Suddenly she leans forward slightly to make some space between us and her bare right arm comes around and starts fumbling around in my lap. Her fingers brush against the coiled rope of sausages that Zha_Zha had hung over my shoulder before we left the kitchen. She grabs the end one - which is hanging right against my lower abdomen. Her leather-clad fingers slowly wrap around the dangling sausage link, which is thick and a good 10 inches or so long, and bent slightly. She's taking her time, playing with me. Making me imagine things I'd rather not think about. And some that I rather do enjoy thinking about at the same time. Funny how she always manages to get those two things mixed up in my head.

Then suddenly her other arm - the fully-armoured one, flashes around from the other side, holding the wickedly deadly little Main Gauche, and flicks it against the base of the sausage link, which is instantly severed and her arms both withdraw back around her body. She casts one more overshoulder glance at me, smiling evilly this time.

"It's DeMonica!" she hisses. "Stop calling me Doreenema."

She's managed to do what I was unable to this entire time - deflated the immense power of the Amygdala and the male libido. Finally free of the terrible pressure, I relax into her back and give myself up to the horse's rhythm for the rest of the long night. It's not hard at all now.

Still the pitiful little trail meanders past incessantly and the terrain remains barren and scrubby and rocky. A low mist has developed and I can no longer see the horizon at all, only the trail and the ground, passing by slowly but inexorably below as the rocking rhythm bears us steadily onward.

After a while my head falls forward onto DeMonica's shoulder (Hey, she's earned it! I'll call her whatever she wants me to at this point!) and I think I begin to fall asleep.

Yay! I was hoping for a seat on Zha's ass

and btw

Not Margaret Thatcher. Not Julia Child. Not Ernest Borgnine. Not even Rosanne Barr can stop it. Not even all of them making out with Rosie O'Donnell.

My penis hid inside for that one

* * *

Doreenema: Ok now I think you might be going too far!! A little too much of the ass talk this time - probably because I made a positive comment about it before. And - yeah, I don't know about that last part. You need to cool that stuff a little.

Hey, this is weird - in the story I just got you to start calling me DeMonica, but here it's still Doreenema! So strange - I'm starting to get confused myself about just who I really am!

Who's writing this anyway?

I mean this comment?



The words are elegantly chiseled in the polished stone before me. I drift back away from it slowly, up once again toward the ceiling. This part is getting to be routine now.

As more of the room comes into view I see I'm in the Grand Ballroom, and either this is a flashback or I've traveled back in time a bit, because SaffronAxe is still playing her Discordion and all the people are still swaying sleepily, as if underwater, to her musical spell. Actually I'm not getting any sound though, just visuals. And yeah, there's motion in this one. It's like watching a silent movie.

My drifting once again stops up in a ceiling corner - that seems to be par for the course. I try to move my body, but again I truly don't have one, and I can't move my eyes either - I can only watch.

I see the Black Queen standing in the middle of the room in a large open space just as I left her, and her hand is out as if she's holding Zombie_Muffin's leash, but there is no leash and no Zombie_Muffin. So if this truly is a real vision of the event and not just some fanciful recreation, then it's picking up after Xey has already pulled Doreenema - um - make that DeMonica - and me down to the smooth floor and pulled us out of the room.

I search the area where we should be, but we're not. It's empty. I even try looking for some sign of us moving across the floor - a leg emerging momentarily from under the edge of a table or something, but I see nothing of the sort. We may already be in the dark Throneroom beyond the huge yawning double-doors.

And somehow - strangely, considering my high vantage point, I can clearly see the tiny little dots spreading across the floor from beneath Saffron's colorful skirt. The tiny spiders. Dozens - maybe hundreds of them!

They spread out evenly and smoothly, almost like a liquid. And as they go they seem to be growing larger rather rapidly. All of them, growing at the same incredible rate.

They continue to spread out across the large room, to the far corners, but they're beginning to move more individually now... some of them stop while others continue outward. In fact it becomes clear that they're all stopping next to people - one spider to each person in the crowd.

As if they've been assigned.

Well this is disturbing, and very eerie! If I had a body I think I'd be shuddering right now. And suddenly I am so glad Xey had the forethought to jam those sausage-ends into his ears, and to drag DeMonica and me to safety - even if he did land us in a different kind of danger. Hell, now the danger we've been through since seems non-existant compared to the fate about to befall all those poor hypnotized people swaying below me - utterly unaware of what's happening and unable to defend themselves against it!

Yes, the spiders are definitely growing, and fast! As large as cats now, and most of them have already reached their intended targets and are crouching next to their feet. Out in the far reaches of the room there's still a little scurrying movement as the last few spiders reach their targets, and then the only movement is the rhythmic swaying of the bodies in unison and the steady implacable growth of those horrible arachnid things.

And leading it all is the beautiful but deadly SaffronAxe, herself swaying like some terrible demonic Pied Piper leading the entire kingdom to its doom.

Rapidly the spiders reach up to the knees of the people next to them, and there the growth seems to stop. Not all at once - the spiders crouched next to taller people continue to grow until they reach the knees of those people. This is horrifying - like watching some macabre clockwork massacre play out slowly, as the victims just sway mesmerized and do nothing about it.

Now Saffron's dance changes slightly. It speeds up a bit, becomes slightly more frenzied. More evil. The hypnotized crowd just continues to sway gently as if all trapped at the bottom of some nightmare ocean and caught in its inexorable tidal currents, but now the monstrous spiders go into action.

Moving with a frightening speed and precision they all begin weaving a deadly pattern around the legs of their intended victims - multi-jointed black legs flashing and smaller pairs of hindlegs working rapidly to loop strand after strand of barely-visible whitish filament around the legs of their poor spellbound victims. It's almost as if they're knitting - passing pale gossamer threads around and around their victims' legs with blinding speed, gradually building up cocoonlike wrappings around them, which slowly and inexorably pull the legs of the people together tightly.

As they work, the spiders rise up on their long legs to reach all the way to crotch level, and then smoothly back down, horrid plump abdomens working back and forth the entire time pumping out yards and yards of the whitish thread. Eventually everyone is tightly wrapped all the way up to the crotch in thick muffling white spider silk.

Now the vision becomes even more hellish.

The gently swaying people begin moving faster, some of them starting to go a little out of sync. They begin to gyrate more unevenly, as if they're losing their balance slowly, or as if they're becoming drunk. Going off-kilter. Heads sag and shoulders slump lifelessly.

But the spiders don't let them fall - they adroitly catch their victims and lay them down gently on the polished mosaic tile of the ballroom floor. The cocoonlike wrappings around the legs keep tightening, shrinking until it becomes clear that the legs inside them must actually be dissolving! There must be some kind of acid secreted into the webbing.

Oh god if only I had eyes I could close now!! How can I continue to watch this horrible mass murder?! But watch I must.

Little threads of white smoke or steam are worming up now from each writhing body as the white-wrapped legs dissolve away entirely.

And then begins the most horrible part of all...

The spiders begin to fit their bodies up against the exposed parts of their victims' bodies... thrusting their horrid arachnid abdomens up against - no INTO - the body cavities of their victims! Oh how can I continue to watch? But there's no relief for me. The horrible vision continues.

It's the large saclike rear part of the spider's bodies that fit up into the human corpses - for surely corpses they must be by now - no-one could live through such a thing! And yet I see not a drop of blood or other bodily fluid spilled, which suggests that some agent inherent in the webbing must be cauterizing the wounds or somehow preventing loss of fluids, and perhaps of life.

And as the implications of that idea strike home, I cannot bear to face the reality of what's happening before me! For human and spider are merging - becoming one in some unholy union.

Saffron's macabre dance is reaching it's climactic finale now - her movements themselves becoming spiderlike as she crouches low and moves smoothly sideways and back and forth, almost as if they're not human legs at all under those concealing multicolored skirts, but multijointed spider limbs.


No!! Could it be possible??!!

It's too horrible to consider... but then why not? After what I've just witnessed it's not much of a stretch really.

And now I notice that one person on the ballroom floor is still standing and swaying gently under the hypnotic spell... the Black Queen. No spider crouching at her feet, no white cocoon around her legs strangling and burning them into nothingness...

Does it mean that Saffron won't condemn the Queen to the same fate as her subjects? They're certainly in league with each other - and I'm beginning to wonder which one is truly in charge... the fact that Neener stands swaying enthralled by Saffron's musical spell suggests who's leading who.

But my conjecture is caught up short as the next movement begins. Slowly, one by one, like drunken sailors emerging from a horrible stupor and finding themselves on a sickeningly swaying deck, the people on the floor begin to sit up. Their movements are strange, disjointed, as if they're still half asleep or - really - more as if they're just learning how to use unfamiliar bodies.

Arms and heads swivel and swing oddly, people try to stand up only to fall over clumsily, some trembling and shaking as if palsied.

And slowly - horribly - one by one they grow more confident and assured in their movements. They begin to rise up, at first crouching low with spider-legs outspread, but gradually the horrible legs draw together and bring them up into a stance that resembles human posture. As they become accustomed to human balance and movement, and as arms and heads begin to move more fluidly and passably, the spider legs draw even closer, revealing how it might be entirely possible for a woman in a long dress to conceal a horrible secret.

Originally Posted by Darkmatters

Doreenema: Ok now I think you might be going too far!! A little too much of the ass talk this time - probably because I made a positive comment about it before. And - yeah, I don't know about that last part. You need to cool that stuff a little.

I had just been thinking "okay, this is going a little too far...", and then I read this^ and it scared me! Because you read my mind.

But it's okay, it's just a story and the character's only partially based on me. I'm no amazon woman with washboard abs so, it's fine.

The story is good. That last spider part was fittingly terrifying.

Ahhhhh... I'm trying to catch up! But I'm reading it out loud and my voice needs a break (the wording flows beautifully BTW).
EXCELLENT tale!
And I love Zha Zha

Originally Posted by Dianeva

I had just been thinking "okay, this is going a little too far...", and then I read this^ and it scared me! Because you read my mind.

But it's okay, it's just a story and the character's only partially based on me. I'm no amazon woman with washboard abs so, it's fine.

The story is good. That last spider part was fittingly terrifying.

Haha!! oh, you don't know how perfect what you just wrote really is!! Especially considering the new idea for an ending I just came up with earlier tonight... this is gonna be incredible!

Originally Posted by Zhaylin

Ahhhhh... I'm trying to catch up! But I'm reading it out loud and my voice needs a break (the wording flows beautifully BTW).
EXCELLENT tale!
And I love Zha Zha

Yes, I'm extremely fond of Zha_Zha myself!

And I'm so glad you mentioned reading it out loud - that's actually something I was considering posting about. Because when I write, I always imagine it being read out loud - you know, by some great stage actor with a Sir in front of his name - Richard Burton or Peter O'Toole or somebody with an amazing voice and delivery.

By thinking about it this way you create a cadence and rhythm that makes it almost feel like poetry or music. It also establishes a drama in just the wording alone... it's like the flow of the words CREATES everything that's happening... as if it's all a stage play done primarily through dialogue, but of course in a written story you can also add in narration and description as well.


Lol well, I gotta admit, this time I really thought I had gone too far! There are (many) times when I sit back and think about what I've written and say "My GOD!!! Did I really post that??!!!"
I'm actually surprised there hasn't been a single complaint yet (that I know of anyway). But then when I think about some of the posts on this message board - they get a lot more crude and crass than anything I've written here. The difference I guess being that Im actually playing with real people here... though as Dianeva said (wow, it actually feels really weird using her real name - I mean her real screen name... ) - they're really just caricatures of people and have little to do with the real people.

Ok, well I'm glad I stayed up so late re-reading the entire thing... it was really nice to get these comments! Zhaylin, so glad you like it and aren't mad! I was a little worried...

Wait~!

Zhaylin -- you're reading it out loud??!! Really?! Is there anyone else in the house? You daughters or anyone? Lol, you might want to preview ahead a little before just reading it...

hehee- everyone was asleep at the other side of the house. It's all good

Me, mad? I was actually in a pretty foul mood until I read your masterpiece. Now I smile every time I think about it

Eleven

Which perhaps ironically sounds like Elven - for this chapter is the most woodsy/elvish/fairtyale-ish/mythological one yet

From behind comes the drumming of thunder. Or the thundering of drums. Or something.

I wake instantly to find I'm still slumped against DeMonica's strong shoulder and have apparently been drooling down her back for some time - some of it is dried and some fresh. And in a wonderfully compassionate gesture, she's actually holding me in place with her hand gripping my hair, so I don't fall off the horse. I'm sore all over.

I lift my head and somewhat embarassedly wipe off my drool from my chin and her back - there's quite a bit of it. Some has followed the curving contours of her remarkably lovely back and wandered right down the central spinal cleft to disappear into her ass cleavage, the very top of which is visible behind her thick leather sword belt and the short chain mesh loinclout or tapered miniskirt which is widely slit on both sides to allow for riding. I leave that part alone.

She casts a strange half-smile over her lovely shoulder at me that all at once says "I sure made you my bitch last night didn't I? But it's cool - no ill will. I know you couldn't help yourself, I was just letting you know I'm not to be trifled with - I'm not really mad." Yes. It said all that. At least I think it did. Or maybe she was just looking back to see what's causing the drumming sound.

I suddenly remember my terrifying nocturnal vision of the conjoined spider-humans and for a moment I imagine hundreds of them, running on myriad pistoning spider legs along the trail where we've already passed. I turn to look, and see only a small cloud of dust drawing gradually nearer. It seems to be on the trail, following us.

"Well, if it isn't Toto!" King Diddy exclaims. "I was wondering what happened to that dreadful little dog! I haven't seen him since he opened the curtain on chapter Nine and ushered me out of the closet."

And he's right. As it rounds the nearest bend I can see the humped and hard-running form of poor salt-crusted ScurvySeaMutt leading the dust cloud and half-emerging from it, long pink tongue a-dangle and a-flap like an aviator's scarf in the wind. He seems to come and go as he pleases with remarkable impunity. And the sight of him gladdens my heart.

"So!" Diddy bursts brightly, stretching his arms out in leisurely fashion "How does everybody feel? I feel WONDERFUL!! What a delightfully smooth ride!"

I hear a stifled snort from DeMonica as I roll my eyes. Xey releases a pained groan.


The sky is lightening and morning is looming near. I tell the rest about my horrible spider vision, feeling that it's probably important.

"Hah! Probably important says the foolish boy. " You know who that is - I need not tell you. I think I've found his character voice rather well, if in somewhat understated fashion.

Scurvy draws alongside us. He must be exhausted from running all through the night. But on he runs, slowing to a trot now - indefatigable as only an animal can be.

As the sun breaks over the horizon King Diddy suggests we take a break and stretch our legs - apparently we're nearing our goal. So we debark into a small clearing just off the trail - which has now entered a delightfully sun-dappled wooded area.

"Methinks I hear a waterfall tinkling in yonder forest." DeMonica says playfully, cocking her head and placing a hand behind her ear. "I'm for a quick bath - t'was a long and - sweaty ride. And somebody drooled on me!" She includes both me and Xey in her impish smirk. We just look at the ground and keep our mouths shut as she leans her bow and quiver against a tree.

Suddenly she pulls off her steel gauntlet and she's fumbling with buckles and straps along her side and pieces of armor begin to fall away. She twists off the bulbous elbow guard, shrugs out of the large almost spherical shoulder shield, peels off the sleeve of chain mesh rather teasingly I think, and gives us a defiant cool-eyed stare as she lifts away the smooth contoured breastplate. With a clank it joins the rest of her metal accoutrements at the foot of the tree.

"Oh ho!" The king explodes, delighted. "And another lovely female character strips off before an admiring audience of passively observing males! Well isn't this wonderful!" I notice his eyes are glued to her just as much as ours are though. She knows it too.

In a murmered aside Xey grumbles " 'At's no female mate! Not where it counts anyway I'll vouch!" He's gingerly rubbing his lower back and his rump. "She 'ung like a freakin Louisville Slugger make no mistake, and ready to play ball if you take my meanin'. Beat me poor arse black and blue she did, and 'alfway up me bloody spine as well for the last ten miles."

Stunned and struggling to make sense of this odd statement, I turn my attention back to the dazzling and half nude Amazon warrior.

Beneath the breastplate is revealed a narrow white bandeau top, little more than a strap really, restraining her very small but delightfully perky breasts. Her torso somewhat resembles that of a teenage boy - a very strong and athletic one, but slightly androgynously feminine at the same time. With breasts. Small lovely firm breasts.

"Ah, but as with all the other seemingly stereotypical scenes in this story" She begins, addressing the comment king Diddy had made, "this leads to a somewhat - surprising reveal."

I had failed to mention that she's standing behind the horse, his bony flank covering her from mid ribcage on down. She lightly smacks his rump and he takes a few rapid steps forward, uncovering her lower half. 4 pairs of eyes are riveted to her - three human and one canine.

Oh, Zombie-Muffin's leash is wrapped double over a low treebranch, same as the leads for the horse and Zha-Zha's ass, to keep them from wandering away. Thought you'd like to know that. Sorry it's breaking up the flow. But back to it now:

Xey: "Oh mah Gawt!"

Me: "Wowsers! It's HUGE!"

ScurvySeaMutt: (who if you remember can talk): "Thick! Massive!"

King Diddy: "Oh! I LOVE the way it curves up her tight little belly - the tip tucks right into her belly-button!"


She's standing triumphantly, fists planted on her narrow hips. Now she slides the right hand slowly, teasingly across her tightly-muscled belly and grasps the thick shaft. She's still wearing the extremely kinky archery glove that only covers her fingers. And at sight of that, a flash memory of last night returns.

She laughs, plucks the huge phallus from behind her belt and hurls it hard right at Xey's stunned face.

Reacting with defensive instinct he catches it and remains frozen in shock for a moment, unable to comprehend just what's going on.

King Diddy laughs in delighted understanding, steps up and snatches it from Xey's frozen grip. It's the sausage link. The one she cut from my lap last night. "Oh well-played my dear!" He takes a big bite off the end of the sausage link. "And O tastes simply fabulous!"

With that she unbuckles and drops her sword belt and then the chain mesh skirt, revealing a small white thong that matches the bandeau top. Then she unzips each thigh-high black leather boot down the back and steps out of them to run lightly off into the woods, filling the grove with her tinkling fairy-bell laughter.

"Played you both like a virtuoso!" Diddy beams, dancing and skipping around the small clearing as he mimes a violin against his shoulder, using the sausage link as a bow. "Hhhhhhhhmmmmmmm?"

We can only shake our heads bemusedly and laugh.

Diddy takes another big bite of sausage and then gestures with the remaining sausage-stub as if it's a wand or a pointer and he an instructor about to deliver an important lecture. Holding it up for us all to examine:

"Amazing how fluid reality can be isn't it? Sometimes a sausage is just a sausage - but she made this one mean so much more!!"

We have to laugh in appreciation at that.

"But it has another layer of meaning as well - for it's the Sacrament, isn't it? Figuratively O's flesh if I understand correctly?"

"Um... well more like literally actually." I correct.

Horror overcomes Diddy's placid features and he hurls the stump of meat down into the dirt as if it's just become a viper and tried to strike at him. He looks sick and makes a quiet sound - I'm not sure if it's O or OH. Possibly Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. As in a sick groan.

ScurvySeaMutt lurches to his four feet (He's been laying curled up on the hard dirt panting this entire time) and snatches the sausage up in one big dog-gulp followed by several convulsive head movements - you know how dogs wolf things down.

"Hungry" he growls. "Meat is meat. All the time."

The rest of us settle for some of the dense chewy trail bread wrapped in a white kerchief that Zha_Zha had tucked into my belt back in the kitchen. It's loaded with raisins and other bits of dried fruit - baked with an eye toward providing good nutrition on long hikes and being easily carried and eaten on the march - not requiring the use of forks or implements of any kind or containing any messy sauces or sticky frostings or anything, and not likely to cause upset stomachs while walking the way sweets will.

Ah the wonderful Zha_Zha - providing for us even now, long after our brief meeting.

"Sustaining us." Diddy comments.

"What?" I ask, a bit shocked. Did he read my thoughts?

"Hah! No... I didn't." Diddy replies. "I'm still talking about the Flesh of O... sustaining us --- well Toto here anyway, and me a little, though I'm not sure I'll be able to keep it down now."

"Yer, it can also sustain our little Miss Muffy 'ere." Xey announces, pulling off another link from the rope wrapped around my chest and holding it in front of Zombie_Muffin's foaming mouth. Diddy and I both move convulsively to stop him. She may be a zombie now, but if we manage to restore her...

"What she don't know can't 'urt 'er, right? More bread for us this way." And it was too late anyway - she was weakly chewing. Maybe a little stronger than before, but still with that cute newborn puppy effect. Besides, as I recall, she had already eaten of the Flesh of O at the feast, when force-fed it via slender silver sausage-fork by the Black Queen.

"Who knows?" Diddy remarks "Partaking of the Sacrament might even have miraculous effects?"

Xey shrugs out of his too-small jacket. "Well, I need a shower meself fellas - me 'ole back is smeared with sausage grease!" And he disappears into the trees, following the same path DeMonica did.

I start to move after him - not sure why. To stop him, or to go with him? But I'm stopped by strong jaws gripping my pants leg down below the knee. Scurvy lets go and speaks in his strange growly voice.

" 'Ware! This be the very Acacia grove where I stole upon Queen Neener - and I aint been the same since."

But that was Neener I think. She's the one with the power to transform people...

"Most of them can do it." King Diddy breaks in. "The really powerful ones anyway. It comes down the line - from Diana. I believe this might have been her grove once."

"They do it - how?" I ask.

"Well - they hook your attention first. Make you fall in love. Then you belong to them. they keep you fascinated with the surface stuff - the flirting and sex play, keep you confused and off-balance, and meanwhile they're working their deep magic - you never even know."

I'm scoffing and laughing. A bit nervously perhaps.

"Love!??! Hah!! No.. no love." Was that me? Did I just say that? It must've been - Xey already left.

Or was it Scurvy?

"Oh come ON!" Diddy scolds acidly. "Who are you trying to kid? What do you think love is Hhhmmmnnn? Some sappy romantic movie love, where you both have jobs and still raise the children - or a happily ever after fairy-tale love? That's bullshit! That's crap - I mean, fairy tales do reveal deep truths - that's why they exist after all - but the whole endless love at the end is just fantasy - wish fulfillment to make little girls dream.

"Love... love is just.. this. We all have it. Right now. For each other. Do you hate me, or any of the rest? Of course not. I mean, that in itself isn't love, but it makes love possible... love is just the part where somebody makes you feel good inside - even just for a moment. How many times has that happened, just since this crazy adventure began? And it isn't just for the opposite sex... there are many different kinds of love. You love your mate, you love your children, your mom and your dad, your uncle, your friends and your dog - you love your God and your Country and songs and movies and stories and games...

"It's just this. This feeling inside. That's all."




After a moment I need to break the awkward silence: "Well, I'm gonna need to clean up too... there's something all crusted inside my pants... " Without meaning to I look in the direction where Xey and DeMonica disappeared.

Scurvy again grasps my pants with his jaw, then releases to speak.

"No. Xey." "Not you."

I look into his huge, immensely sad brown eyes and I know. He's right.

He bumps his head gently against my knee and points off into the woods using his tail. In a direction away from where they went.

"There. Springs. Go."

* * *

Some time later, feeling much refreshed and still somewhat damp, I return to the clearing to find Diddy sitting on a blanket beside a small pile of foodstuffs. Nutrition bars and candy bars mostly.

"That woman thought of everything! These were rolled inside the blankets." he says while chewing happily. I unwrap something and join him.

It isn't long before DeMonica emerges from the edge of the woods, fresh-scrubbed and hair damp. Smelling of fresh air and sweet clean water and a little of flowers. And it's then I know King Diddy is right. About love. It's not one big thing - it's a lot of small things. And constantly changing. And I haz it. for DeMonica - for Zha_Zha - in a strange way even for the Black Queen, and even for SaffronAxe. It has nothing to do with if a person is evil or good - you love who you love. Some people get all the love - some get almost none. Love has its way with us all.

I also love King Diddy, and Xey, and Muffin, and ScurvySeaMutt... and O and Ganja and Tatte87 and Slush2112... in fact in some way or other I love everyone I've met on this adventure. And I know they all love each other too - and me. It's just that some people don't express it well... I think it scares them.

"So " DeMonica says, starting to don her armour again. "Where's Xey?"

"Oh as if you didn't know!" chides Diddy archly. Her expression remains unreadable. And the armor goes on, piece by piece. Until she's once again the Amazon warrior girl, invulnerable and invincible.

There's a small scurrying sound at the edge of the woods, right by where she emerged. In the time it takes for Diddy and I to shift our eyes to see the small white rabbit hopping out into the clearing her arrow has impaled it right through the heart and pinned it to a tree. All we hear is a soft THWUUUUP sound and the solid thunk of the arrow socketing itself deep in wood.

Scurvy whines and tucks his tail between his legs. I leap to my feet and take half a step toward the rabbit - dying before my eyes. Is it... ?



"Xey!" Diddy shouts, waving with a loose floppy wrist in that direction - then I hear a soft crashing and he emerges from the edge of the woods tugging on his sleeves and straightening his pants.

Later in the morning we build a small fire and have rabbit and don't need to face the prospect of eating the sausages that hang across my chest, slowly making a greasy mess of my shirt. Scurvy refuses the rabbit and wolfs down two more sausage links. And Zombie_Muffin devours half of one, the rest falling out of her mouth as she chews clumsily and wetly, making gently little nom nom sounds.

* * *

"Ah! Back on the road, all refreshed and rested." Diddy announces some time later, as our little train gets moving once more. Lucky bastard gets to ride Zha_Zha's ass again. This time I'm in front.

"So - what have we learned today kids?" Now the trail is wide enough for Diddy to pull the ass up beside us and we can talk better.

"About the fugitive and ever-shifting nature of identity I mean?"

"Sometimes a sausage is a cock." Xey ventures.

"Oh lovely - the Straw Man speaks up! Out with it boy - how much do you really know about these people - and about yourself?"

"Well Blimey mate - I know this 'ere aint real!"

"What's not real?"

"This - whatever it is we're all sharing 'ere. This 'ole bloody place. It's just inside our 'eads er somethin."

"Mmmmmm yeah no - that won't do. Objective/subjective dichotomy. Can we ever truly know anything objectively? When it all comes in to us through the senses? If a sausage can be a cock and a savior and meat all at the same time, can a world be any less responsive to our understanding of it? Can a person? I say a person is a world - each of us. The world. All of it. Inside.


"People are the same. Do we really know each other, or ourselves? Are you always the same person? Or do you shift continuously between potentials, become a bit more one person and then a bit more someone else as necessary?"

Now he turns to me.

"Who is that girl sitting behind you for instance?"

"DeMonica?"

"Oh, I thought she was Doreenema! That's what you were calling her yesterday. Did she go away and someone else join us while I wasn't looking?"

Damn!

"Or did she just force you to see her differently, reveal another aspect of herself to you?"

"Yeah well, she certainly did reveal another aspect of herself this morning!" I laugh appreciatively. I can feel her warm chuckle on my neck though it makes not a sound.

"And what of you? Who are you? we didn't get that far in introductions yesterday." He's still looking at me.

"Um... well I'm Darkus. I think."

He looks down and shakes his head sadly. "You don't even know? What's in a name though, really? Would knowing it make you someone different?"

"None of us know our real names anymore " Xey pipes up. "They were all changed recently. And our identities along with em. I used to be smart!"

Diddy only looks steadily at him, challenging him.

"Really - I was some kind of math wiz er somethin'. I just sorta remember. Can't do it no more though. Can 'ardly string together 3 and 4 now, but I can flip like crazy an tumble like a toad. So now I'm a clown." He's now looking down and shaking his head sadly. "Ah, if I only 'ad a brain!"

"Hah! WONderful!!" Diddy enthuses. And he means it - for once he's not being sarcastic. "Our straw man wants his brain! How about the Tin Woman?"

DeMonica pauses for a moment, then lifts her dark face toward him. She's again brooding and impassive like when I first met her, eyes hooded.

"Well, I sometimes feel like I don't have much of a heart. I mean, I don't know if I'm capable of love. Not real love anyway."

Diddy is pressing a wrist hard into his eye socket in mock consternation "Oh lets not have THIS conversation again! We covered this. You can go back and read it later. It's really not the big deal you think it is - and yes, what I'm saying is you really HAVE a heart - you just don't know it yet. Sooo passe I know. So sue me mister Baum! Or MGM, or whoever owns the rights!"

Now all their attention turns to me.

"And what of our cowardly lion? MMmmmmm?"

I'm nervously fiddling with the string of sausages hanging down behind me. It's somehow got uncomfortable and was hanging down in back and bumping against the side of the horse with every step, so I'm holding it in my hand and fiddling with it with the other hand.

"Oh classic! Perfect!" Diddy barks in joy. "He''s playing with his tail!! What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Suddenly you seem all embarrassed! Do somebody miss hims courage?"

"Oh - well no, I wasn't gonna say that! I'm not really like... "

"Oh come ON! Have you been a hero on this little venture? Defeated any villains? Won the heart of maiden fair?"

Why must the silence hang in the air for so long?

"Well!" Diddy leaps off Zha-Zha's ass and claps his hands with finality. "Saved by the proverbial bell. We're here!"

I was going to be mad at you, then I was going to be more mad at you, then I was going to be furious with you, then I was going to kill you. But then I was just going to be mad at you again, and then I was quite happy with you.

It is a good story, and if I try to look at it objectively it does keep getting better. It is kind of uncomfortable to read, but I just need to keep reminding myself not to take it too personally.

Hahaha! Thank you!!

I know, it just keeps getting crazier - especially for you! But that's what makes it so fun to check each day though, isn't it? To see what kind of crap I drag your character through that day... Think of it as a roller coaster - just hang on. Trust and believe.

I'm not gonna steer this wrong. Though it's gonna take some scary turns - that's the fun part.

Originally Posted by Dianeva

I was going to be mad at you, then I was going to be more mad at you, then I was going to be furious with you, then I was going to kill you. But then I was just going to be mad at you again, and then I was quite happy with you.

It is a good story, and if I try to look at it objectively it does keep getting better. It is kind of uncomfortable to read, but I just need to keep reminding myself not to take it too personally.

Lol. I got turned into a pig and had my intestines strung onto a spindle. I think your character is doing pretty well for herself.

Originally Posted by Darkmatters

LMAO.

I also liked the "Meat is meat. All the time" line. A play on "God is good...", yeah?
If so; hilarious.

Originally Posted by Oneironaut

LMAO.

I also liked the "Meat is meat. All the time" line. A play on "God is good...", yeah?
If so; hilarious.

Um - sure! Yeah!

Heh, actually it was just SSM's no-nonsense response to "Sometimes a sausage is just a sausage", from of course Freud's famous "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". He's our no-BS character - no philosophy or psychology - he just sees everything for exactly what it is. To him anyway. When he eats sausage, it's just meat. No metaphors.

Wow! I just glanced up at your sigpic as I was composing that, and it could almost be the cover of the freakin' book!!! Heh - did I subliminally draw most of my symbolism from it?

** edit **

Ok, ya know what? Just because I fail to notice a connection in this doesn't mean it isn't there. I sometimes freak out when I go back and re-read something and find connections and metaphors and symbols that I wasn't aware of putting there. So yeah. Gott ist Gut!

(Whoah! Gut... God is Gut? )