Argo Navis
This is an out-of-competition entry in the ATF Story Writing Contest 2024/I. The story is posted by the organizer. The actual author of the story will remain anonymous until at least the end of the contest.
In the chronicles of antiquity, amidst the annals of time, there lies the sacred lore of Rani, the divine harbinger of valor and wisdom. From the celestial realms, she descended, clothed in the resplendence of celestial radiance, bearing the mandate to vanquish the serpentine scourge that plagued mortal lands.
The Teller
Johar walks fifty feet in front of me in the narrow service tunnel. A hot draft blows on my face and hurts my eyes. I put on my mask, and the smell of many uses wrinkles my nose. The mask is mandatory here in this heat, and the valuable water in my breath is saved by the thin tubes sticking into my mask that go into my suit.
If my life were not so miserable, I would spill less when I cry. I curse our goddess as often as I worship her—Rani the Splendid, whom I beg for forgiveness every evening sermon—a silent confession, as I don’t want anyone to know what I am confessing to.
I check the dented color gauge on my suit; the dark orange tells me the outside temperature is about 120. I need to add another 5, as the color…thing of my suit is slightly off. It is as if I am being boiled like an egg, not as if I know how it feels, but eggs don’t seem to like it as they jump around in the pan. Or they jump from joy… I jump from one foot to the other, egg…squisite jump Raneesha. I glance at Johar, afraid he saw me do my stupid jumping. I try acting more maturely for him but keep messing up.
My ‘new’ suit hurts me. It is a hand-me-down suit made for a boy, not a girl. Its water filtration system is not designed for me. Perhaps because I am still flat-chested, they figured it was no problem to give me a ‘boy’ suit. I don’t have that thing down there; I have an inverse version. To help me with my peeing, I am given some stupid vials that I need to empty in my suit filters. Yuck.
My ribs stick through the thin material covering my skin.
I hate how it looks on me, like a bulge where I have that thing they pee with. You can see I am a girl because I have long hair. I hate this stupid tradition—the jokes men make about using them as reigns. I don’t get it; I’m not a dog that pulls a cart.
Why am I even here? Like Rani the Pure, I am on a quest to bring fortune to our village. Fight monsters, meet heroes, and atone for my mistakes. My fist hits a pipe above my head as I do my shadowboxing. The sound reverberates through the corridor, and Johar spins around. I wave at him, my hand still painful.
The Teller told us a thousand years ago that we were not allowed to go here, a holy place. People who ignored it were blown off the walkways that spiral downward, a terrible fate. I hear the wind howl through the corridor, and my fear spikes when I think about how those people must have met their end. I check my suit’s laces. The filters slowly fill the pouches on my hips with my sweat.
I always spike my pouches with herbs, but in my head, it is still my sweat and… I drink the warm fluid, afraid my reserves will become too full and my filters will stop working. I smell it as I drink the warm liquid: a foul stench and bitter taste of things that cannot be filtered.
Once, I didn’t place my filters correctly. I think that causes my issues with my suit’s water, and I have more faith in our communal filtration systems, which are better anyway and mixed with distilled water from the air. Just thinking about it makes me… I rip off my mask as my stomach tries to push food through my gullet. The sour stench and taste are horrible, but I keep it in. I hate this, rinsing my mouth with more disgusting water… but I have my filters correct this time because else… I don’t manage it this time as the memory resurfaces, and part of my lunch scatters over the floor with its precious liquid.
It will have evaporated before we are back. It will be one with dirt that I shuffle over the dark spot with my feet. Johar didn’t notice me retching. Or he is ignoring me because I am unimportant to him.
He marches along the narrow tunnel like he’s in a hurry. He would, more likely, have been mad at me; everybody always is when my overactive imagination has an episode. I just think differently than most, seeing possible things— funny little things like a puppet play in my head, but also sometimes things like these.
It’s the end of the tunnel, and we have reached where I would rather not be. Johar is standing on the walkway's metal. With my fear of heights, this is the worst thing to do. Peering into nothingness, a bottomless pit, some say hell is at the bottom. That is why it is so warm.
Large letters on the wall tell me: ‘Maintenance only.’ In the old days, there were elevators, or eleviaters, kill me now, boxes that could take you from one floor to another. Elevators! That’s it.
The stairs spiral down along the circular shaft. The text on the other side reads level eighty. There is a sunnylight at the top, many levels higher. The stairs that climb up cast a shadow on the walls. I would rather climb up than down. But Johar tells me he found something downstairs, something to help me.
As they tell us, we live on an enormously big ship, the ‘Argo Navis,’ that is adrift in space, like forever, until Rani the Spotless saves us, which I hope is not in my lifetime. There is a heaven for the just and a hell for… people like me. With my luck, a monster from the pit will jump up and drag me down. My legs are heavy as I stumble forward.
But it is not my fault I am destined for hell. I was a good girl before. As I said, this stupid suit is not made for me. It doesn’t only filter my sweat. It does the same for my… other fluid. And with this boy-shaped spot between my legs, that does not work very well. So, as I miss my vial and wet my suit, my girl thing is doused in it. Those wet parts have given me a rash that itches like I am stung by a creeper vine. Johar’s mother, our medica, gave me an ointment for it.
I found that rubbing that ointment was really nice. I got addicted to that type of rubbing. So, because of that, Rani the Pure will ensure I meet my fate.
Why did I agree to go here? Maybe because I like Johar, even though he is five years older than me. I want to have my merger with him, but I must wait another five years. I hope he will wait that long. He has always been nice to me, and he makes me smile. And he says he likes my stupid jokes.
I don’t want to go much deeper. I feel the metal shake under my feet as Johar climbs deeper and jumps up and down to show me the metal floor is strong. He doesn’t have my fears. But I also know he is doing this for me. We are searching for stuff to fix my suit. I don’t like that he knows about it. I guess being the son of our medica had something to do with that. But I would be thankful if he could find something to make it fit better. I can’t let him do this alone. And I like being with him, and in the last weeks, he has been really nice to me. Giving me hopes I did not have before.
I slowly make my way down, hugging the wall as I go. A fine dust falls from the wall as my fingers touch it. Crumbling wall…My stomach is heavy as a stone, and my ass feels filled with water. I try to fart, like the tenth time this trip. My bowels reorganized by my fear. I feel it bubbling through the sweat between my buttocks as it tries to find a nose to agonize—another reason I don’t want to drink my fart-scented water. Thankfully, it sounds only like a mouse squeak.
My stomach muscles tremble… I am so afraid, and even though my ass is at ease for the moment, I still seriously need to pee.
This is as far as I dare to go. Johar is just below me and looks over the railing. Even if it is not me doing it, I fear it will break, and he will fall. We are now so deep into the shaft the sunnylight hardly reaches here.
I go to my knees and lean forward. It is the best method I have found for doing what I can no longer postpone. I pretend to watch into the abyss as I hold the vial as good as possible against me. I hear the gurgling sound coming from my crotch as I pee. I am afraid Johar will hear it. He leans dangerously against the railing as he looks up at me. My body tenses, and I think he can see what I am doing. I hope my suit doesn’t leak. In my head, I already think about showing my half-filled vial and asking, ‘Want a sip?’ I hate this life.
It already starts to itch, not the nice itch my mother forbade me to give into, and the always unresponsive Rani, who would have me thrown to her dragons… Perhaps she will forgive me because it is the reason I cry so often, my little moments of remorse. I am too nice for hell.
“We are almost there,” I hear Johar’s voice from below.
“I will be there,” I tell him. I just don’t know when.
I don’t dare to move. Afraid Johar sees me crawling around and thinks I am some scared girl. I am, but that is not why I am on all fours. The only good thing is the cooling of my skin there as my pee evaporates in the hot breeze. The two thick ridges of skin between my legs are as red as a radish—rashy radishes. Why don’t we pee from our asses? Why do I need to have that there? I close the vial; I don’t want to add it to my water now. I lace up my… boy thing.
I crawl to the edge and grab the thin bar of the railing for support. To my horror, it breaks off and falls into the chasm. I fall forward and drop to the floor. The metal floor shrieks like a newborn baby, and a moment later, I am weightless. The weightlessness ends, and the air is pushed out of my lungs. I feel a searing pain in my side. I roll on my back, but the pain gets much stronger. I hear Johar yell my name. I look at the hand I pushed against my side and see that it is colored a glistening red. Great, more liquid lost. A piece of metal is sticking in me, covered in my blood.
Something shrieks, perhaps the monster that will take me into the pit. The floor tilts, and I slide down. The pain in my side becomes unbearable, and I wait for the floor to hit me again. The shriek I hear changes to Johar screaming above me. How did he get above me? I don’t feel the floor anymore; I am weightless again, and darkness wins from sunnylight.
Fall
In the annals of warfare, amidst the tumultuous tides of battle, he saw Rani, with the banner of righteousness unfurled, lead the legions of mortals against the forces of darkness. With the valor of a thousand champions burning within her breast, she strode fearlessly into the fray, her voice ringing like a clarion call, rallying the hearts of all who stood beneath her standard, rallying the hero’s heart to be with her forever.
The Teller
I sit at the edge, my hands clutching the metal as I want to push myself into the dark depth. I am a terrible person in every possible way. I feel ashamed of my impure feelings for her. My tears are making it impossible for me to see. I remove my mask to wipe my eyes. I feel utter shame; my manhood was strong thinking about her and what she was doing just before I saw her fall. I love her with all my heart, my unclean heart. Desecrating her memory is the last thing I should do. My mother had told me about her condition, that if I cared for her… I should give her a better part for her suit. I fling the material I wanted to give her in the deep. I am the cause of her death. I wanted her to find me heroic when I would find what she needed. But I also had another goal, which was even more wrong.
I wanted to take her to a room I knew of, deep down these stairs, where we would find what I already had in my backpack. If I had not been such a moron, she would still be alive. I had always liked Raneesha, the whirlwind girl with crazy ideas that brightened my days.
I had discovered something in that room. Huge glass-like pictures that changed my feelings for her into something polluted. They showed a girl maybe as old as Raneesha and her performing acts of pure sin. Since then, I had wanted Raneesha to be with me in very wrong ways. I kept returning there, using my manhood for impure behavior while I looked at those pictures. In my thoughts, it was Raneesha doing these things.
I wanted her to see the pictures…Maybe she would see me as the guy in those pictures. And now my wrong desires killed her—punished by Rani for my profane desires.
I don’t feel my heart, as if it is not there anymore. A hole in my chest. I have to realize she must be dead, but I fear she is lying there, crying out in pain. I don’t know how deep this shaft goes. The stairs are about to end, just two more turns, and we would have reached the ladder I had made for her. But I know she is afraid of heights, it was just my lust that drove me. I swing my legs back onto the stairs and stand up.
Of Swords and pointy things
Through her benevolent deeds and boundless compassion, she didst illuminate the path through darkness, bringing solace to the weary and hope to the downtrodden.
Thus, in the annals of antiquity, the legend of Rani doth endure, a paragon of virtue and a beacon of hope whose deeds shall be recounted for all eternity.
The Teller
Something pulls on my leg, a cold claw that shines as dipped in oil. I try to kick it away, but the pain in my side stops me. It is something from a nightmare, a dark demon Rani fought countless times. And I am not like her, not valiant or strong like her. It will rip me apart. And as this is hell, many times over, as is the faith of people like me. Perpetual death and pain. I am so scared I lose control over my bladder, a warmth almost nice… almost… itchy…my world turns black, drifting into unconsciousness.
Pain shoots through my leg like something stung me, a nauseating pain all the way to my bone. My scream echoes against a ceiling unknown to me as I try to get away from wherever I am. How does this pit have a ceiling? The pain quickly becomes less, replaced by warmth. I feel like I drift away, my body detached from me.
I feel something soft under me—a light blue material but something I don’t recognize. It feels warm from my body heat. My suit! Everything is gone. I am naked! My heart beats like crazy. Something thin is covering my body, the same material I am lying on. Smooth, and it is as light as a leaf. I see my suit hanging on a chair, torn apart. My throat tightens; I am in so much trouble. The loss of a suit is almost the same as the loss of a life. I push the material between my legs to protect my secret.
The room is barely lit, but I see a bright light coming through an open door. I see another suit in the darkness of a corner, but it differs from mine. This one is all black and looks like armor that heroes must have worn—beautiful golden patterns of flowers on its chest plate and muscular arms and legs. The helmet looks like a human head, black as night like the rest of the suit but with golden eyes like an ancient god. Next to me, on a table, I see a mug made of glass filled with water. I can’t believe anyone could be this careless with water.
I roll over to see the other side of the room, and I feel some pain in my side. I remember the metal bar that pierced me, but it’s gone now. I remember myself falling and the blackness of death. Is this hell? And that suit is a demon? My heartbeat is almost painful, and I feel my throat and mouth are dry. I should have taken a sip of that water. Something stirs, perhaps woken because of my movement. I see it come toward me, something terrible with claws and parts that seem to slide over its body as it moves. Its organs are clear to see, and its face is something terrible. A claw grabs my leg as it looks into my eyes. I scream and kick at it with my other leg. I feel a dull pain when my foot hits the demon’s head.
“Stop,” it screams.
I have no intention to stop and kick where its nose should be. I hear it shriek in pain, and it releases me. I try to get away, away to the door. The floor rushes toward me, and my head feels as if pierced with needles.
When I wake, I feel the cold floor on my face. The room is now brightly lit, like a thousand candles burning. Two black knees with golden lines dip into my view, and something strokes my hair.
Something says, “Careful now; we mean you no harm, young flower. You are safe with us.” The voice is deep like our carpenter has, but melodious and not grumpy like him.
I look up and see the black suit kneeling next to me. The golden eyes watch me. But something is off. The helmet shows… emotions—a mouth and eyebrows that move, eyes that narrow when I look past it at my suit.
“You don’t need that here. It is designed to retrieve your fluids, right?”
“But you are wearing a suit,” I say.
Its mouth bends into a smile, “No.”
“No?”
“I am the ‘suit.’ I am an android. A machine? But with feelings, just like Fringe here. That scared scroungy thing you kicked in his face after he saved your life… twice.”
“I’m not scared; I can take on that little human any time,” I hear from somewhere in the room. A soft mumbled, “I’m not scroungy; she is scroungy,” makes me look in its direction. Fringe, as the black android had called it, looks less human but in the better light, also less a demon. It has a spindly body and arms with multiple joints. The claw is not even that scary; it fits the smaller thing. It has a simpler face but also shows emotions; at least now, it looks very angry at me.
“I’m so sorry, I was afraid,” I say and try to sit. The dark… android grabs me by my arms and helps me up. I pull the thin blanket toward me, hiding my secret. A thin layer of clear material covers the wound on my side where the stairs pierced me. It looks bruised, a ring of dark blue. But I don’t see the wound itself, just my skin as if it never happened.
“Part of the structure that you fell from destroyed some vital organs. Fringe reconstructed them and patched you up as well as possible. He was also the one who saw your fall and caught you with a grav field.”
Fringe steps into the light. Dark blue panels, like the armor of an insect, protect its internal ‘organs.’ He has the same flower designs but they look more weathered, like old scratched paint. They both are like statues that have become alive by magic.
I stand up and wrap the sheet around me, “I am sorry, I… I didn’t know.” I walk to the blue statue. It is difficult due to its size, but I hug it. “Thanks for saving me,” I say.
It shakes its head but returns my hug.
His metal arms softly press into me, “It’s okay. I understand you are not used to… androids, and you took quite a fall. I would like to examine your wound and repair the damage after your fall from the bed. If you could please get back on it,”
“I’m not a statue like you; I need to heal by myself,” I say.
Fringe tilts his head, “I think you don’t understand what I am. What we are. We were part of the Royal household from before it all went to… shit. We are not statues, though I understand we look like that to you. We are machines but with intelligence like yourself. We have emotions; we have personalities.”
“I am sorry. I have never met something like you. Or royals, you are family?”
The ‘android’ blinks at me, “I… No, we were helping the royal family. We are not royals ourselves. I was their physician. I know more about the human body than my own. So, if you could… get back on the bed, I can check you.”
I manage to get myself on the bed. I wince when I feel the pain in my side, but it is not as bad as I would expect after what has happened. The black android is so different from Fringe. It is more human-like. His golden markings are not painted like those on Fringe but embedded into the black surface.
“I am, or more was, a teacher of royals. I was named Claymore,” it says.
“Claymore?”
“It’s an ancient sword used by guys in short skirts.”
“Why are you named after a sword? Are you a warrior?”
Fringe’s laugh sounds like a choke; his arms shudder as if they malfunction. “He was named like that because he has a broad sword that can strike deep. And sometimes he played a warrior, yes.”
“You have a sword?” I ask.
Fringe laughs, “It’s a metaphor like you have a sheath that fits his sword.”
“I don’t have a sheath.”
Claymore smiles, “You are a girl.”
It doesn’t sound like a question, but I tell him, “Yes.”
“You have a sheath for my sword, trust me,” Claymore says.
Fringe raises a hand, “You have even three. I am pretty sure of that. I checked you thoroughly.”
I have no clue what he is talking about. It tickles when he peels off the transparent material.
“What is your name?” Fringe asks.
“Raneesha.”
“That is a beautiful name. Nice to know you, Raneesha,” Claymore says. “ I’m just curious. Where did your name originate from?”
His hand touches my arm, and it feels surprisingly warm and soft. “It means gift of Rani.”
“Rani?” Claymore asks.
“Rani is our goddess!”
“You are from an exciting culture. It must have developed after the accident.”
“What accident? Ouch!” Fringe just pressed against my wound, which still feels sore.
“Oh, nothing serious, just that the ship broke in two about a thousand years ago. We are the ass end and have been drifting in space since then.”
Fringe pulls the sheet from me. I shriek and put my hands between my legs to shield my secret.
“I need to check you there. You had quite a rash, and I want to see if it is gone.”
“Only woman may touch me there,” I say.
Claymore raises his thin golden eyebrows, “But how do you have sex? Oh! You prefer women?”
“No? I am to remain pure till merger, as Rani.”
“Merger?”
“I am to merge with a man when I am of age.”
“Ah, that explains why you had that!” Fringe shouts.
“Had what?” I feel panic.
“Eh, nothing. But I am… not a guy like Claymore there with his… sword. I am none. So I guess I was allowed to… help you there. And if not, I am sorry, but you were unconscious when I treated you. I could hardly ask for your permission then.”
I feel cold; Fringe sounds like a man. How could something be neither? I look in panic at Claymore, who then… should be a man because of his sword.
“Strange new rules your society has,” he says, “I will leave you two so you can examine her in privacy. I will try to find something to wear for Raneesha.”
I feel my heart beating in my chest when he spreads my legs. I remove my hands from my secret. The red color is gone, and so is my itch. Something warm touches me there. I feel it push and a strange feeling, a warmth spreading inside me.
How all the Cookies Crumble
With a swift and decisive strike, he cleaved through the serpent-haired horror, shattering its monstrous visage and freeing the land from its curse. Thus, the Rani’s Hero’s valorous triumph over the Medusa fiend echoed through the ages, a testament to his unwavering bravery in the face of perilous adversity.
The Teller
The floor that fell and took Raneesha with it has taken another lower section down. I need to jump a large distance to reach the other side. I have no ropes; I had not expected to need them, and taking them would have scared her. Going back would be equally difficult. The part she fell from could be repaired but was now hanging dangerously from one side. I am less certain it is safe to jump. It could also happen to me, and my jump could break the stairs. Beneath the gap is nothing but darkness. I can’t even estimate how far the jump will be. Can I even reach the other side? I need to find her; I can’t face her parents if I don’t try. I grab a railing like the one that broke away from Raneesha. I feel it crumble between my fingers like a corn cookie.
My heart races and my legs feel strange. Jerky and powerless. I take my time trying to get enough courage to make the jump. Time Raneensha may not have if she is still, by some miracle, alive. I start my run. The hot air tears my eyes, and I hear my loud steps on the metal as each fills me with more fear. My jump is weak, and I know I will not make it. My stomach smashes against the other side, and my hand barely manages to grab the railing.
My fear gives me just enough power to pull myself up, and I lay on the surface, afraid to move, my quick breathing shallow, afraid it will break as it did with Raneesha—a young girl, maybe half my weight. Carefully, I crawl further to the next section of metal.
The ladder I made for her earlier looks even scary to me, she would never have dared to use it. It was my desire that fueled the idea. I climb down and swing myself into the service tunnel a level lower.
It is not something new I discovered. Many have been here before me, but none have stayed long enough to find what I found. A space you can crawl through, hidden behind a piece of wall you can pull away, a narrow tunnel I can crawl through when I remove my backpack.
It had taken me hours to map the dark maze. I found rooms with things I still don’t understand. Machines, some still humming with their magic. I kept it my secret—my treasury—a treasury I wanted to share with Raneesha.
I know where I need to go. I crawl for minutes, my backpack dragging behind me, tied to a foot. Every now and then, I pause and think of Raneesha. Trying to hold back my tears. I wanted her to follow me into these narrow corridors so much, to see what I had seen, corridors as if they were made for things the size of babies.
I let myself fall into the dark room. The flickering of my lamp brings shadows to life, but the only footprints in the dust are mine—not the claw marks of one of Raneesha’s scary monsters, which she brings to life even now as I think of her descriptions. By Rani, now I am even scared. It takes me time to move, afraid of her imagination.
I pass the room with the pictures. I don’t understand why they are placed like this. They all show the same girl. The pictures move as you walk past them—capturing just that motion, her having sex... some show her thin vaginal lips spread around a guy’s penis. The pictures are silent, but the expression on her face... I wanted Raneesha to have that. I wanted her to have that with me. In my mind, the short-haired girl changes into the long-haired girl I love, and I even now need to open my suit to move my manhood before it becomes too painful.
My chest hurts when I think about what I have lost, and I again consider killing myself. What value is my life without her? But hope still gives me some power. I have to continue. Maybe she is still, somehow, alive. She deserves Rani to save her. I would give up my life if needed. Maybe I will find Rani down there. I will plead for her life in exchange for mine.
I stash the rope in my backpack that I had left here on another trip and walk, with heavy feet, to the only possible way down I know.
The elevator shaft I stand before is a dark void, echoing my feet’s shuffling sounds.
Water of Plenty
In the hallowed quest for the Golden Staff, Rani fought alongside Jason and his valiant band, facing down monstrous adversaries and overcoming insurmountable odds. As they ventured into the realm of myth and legend, Rani's courage and wisdom shone as brightly as the stars above, ensuring the triumph of the Argonauts in their legendary odyssey.
The Teller
Claymore brings me a box; it opens into many smaller boxes. Inside are some sort of clothes, clothes as I have only seen in pictures. When I touch the trousers, their red colors change under my fingers to a dark orange. Patterns that move like shifting dust in a strong draft.
“This was from my Princess. I am sure she would find it agreeable for you to wear,” Claymore says. “These are from when she was ten years old. I am guessing you are the same age?”
“I’m eleven cycles,” I say.
I dress myself in wide pants that feel like air.
He pulls a shirt made of the same material over my head. He hands me soft shoes that don’t look good for walking distances. I peek at my own shoes that stand beside my suit, but Claymore’s frown tells me I should not think about it. I quickly put them on. They fit me perfectly, and I enjoy wiggling my toes in them. When I walk, the patterns ripple over me. Somehow, they ‘talk’ to each other, and it is as if I am wearing something made of one piece when a ripple moves from my shirt to my pants. Even the shoes have this effect. Claymore hands me a bracelet and a golden necklace with thin red stones that sparkle like water drops. I feel like that princess he talks about.
“I am an android, but we do have smell. I would like you to clean yourself,” Claymore says.
I nod, my face warming up. I usually clean myself with fine sand and occasionally with a wet towel, and I am allowed a steam bath every month. I use homemade scents to mask my odor. But after my trip here, I smell myself.
“It’s not just that. You must keep your… secret… clean—Fringe’s orders.”
Claymore bows, and his arms make a flowing gesture to the door.
“How was she?” I ask as I follow him. My new shoes feel so nice.
“Rainey? She was more than just my pupil, someone special.”
His voice sounds strained. Maybe he still misses her.
“You liked her?” I ask.
“She was wonderful. Everybody loved her.”
“How did she…die?” I regret my question immediately and shake my head, “Sorry. I don’t need to know.”
“When the accident happened… they committed suicide. Don’t ask Fringe about it. He had to help them… pass over. It marred his soul.”
“I am so sorry,” I say.
“You remind us very much of her. You look like her as two drops of water. If you shortened and colored your hair, you would be her.”
“I don’t like long hair, but it is a custom with us. I would like to have it shorter.”
“It would lift his spirit, maybe.”
I would love to do anything for Fringe, “I can cut it. I just can’t change the color.”
Claymore’s is silent as we walk through the corridors. Everything where we were before looked the same as it does at home, but clean: no dust, trash, or dark green fungus spots. But it changes as we go deeper. The corridors become wider, and the pee-colored walls change to stone. I have never seen so much of it. Columns that reach toward the ceiling are made entirely of stone.
I want to see everything, turning around in my new shoes and admiring the magnificent details—drawings in the stone that make them look alive, growing out of the floor like a tree.
“They moved their palace inside the ship. They spared no expense. They were extremely wealthy.”
“Wealthy?” It’s again a new word.
Claymore frowns, “I guess money is not part of your society. In a way that makes you wealthier than most.”
Claymore stops in front of a huge door, maybe four times my height. Made of dark yellow metal. A reliëf shows a girl that sits under a tree; in the distance, I see a castle at the end of a winding road.
“Is that the castle?”
Claymore smiles, “No, just a fairy tale version of one. You are already in their palace. This was Rainey’s room. She was not much older than you. And she loved fairy tales.”
I don’t know who doesn’t, “I like fairytales.”
He pushes against the door, just a mere touch enough to make them swing open, “Not her fairytales, I think.”
“My mother tells me stories…” I feel a sharp ache in my chest when I think of home. “How can I go back? Home?”
“I, we, were hoping you would stay with us. At least for a while. You will have sustenance, a carefree life… pleasure.”
“Sustenance? What is that?”
“Food, drink.”
The mention of it makes my stomach growl. I didn’t eat much, and what I had eaten lay, many levels above me, splattered on the floor.
“I will make you something to eat. What would you like?” he asks.
“I usually eat bread in the morrow, and later in the day, I eat some potatoes and carroveggies.”
“Can I surprise you?”
Claymore returns my smile, but I still feel saddened by not knowing how to get to my family.
“We will find a way to return you to your home. We never tried to venture far. There never was a need.”
I blink at him and follow him through the door.
Lamps that look like a hundred candles on rings hang from the ceiling and spring to life, lighting the room.
“These were her quarters. Here, you will find a bathroom in the back. I can help you wash yourself, but I am sure you would have issues if I did this. I accept this even though it pains me.”
“What pains you?”
“You, your faith, I accept it as your choice. I am ‘wired’ to only be consensual in my teaching and service.”
“Rani is just. Thank you.”
Claymore bows and points with an arm to an arch in the wall, “I think it is best if you take residence in these quarters. I have always kept these in their original state as I… cared deeply for my princess. There may be things that you, because of your faith, can dislike. I will remove them in time to another location. Let me show you to your bedroom.”
The ‘bedroom’ he shows me is easily larger than the main square of my village: warm amber colors, accents of yellow light. The whole wall on the left is made of moving pinpricks of light. From corner to corner, it would take me twenty steps, and I would have to stand on five other me’s to touch the ceiling.
It is amazing! My mouth drops open, something Claymore sees off course. I shut it and hear my teeth clap together.
“You did see the stars before?” Claymore says.
“These are stars? They are beautiful!” I walk to the wall, stepping around the multitude of cushions in front of it in a big rectangular shape. They look wonderful. Specks of the whitest light I have ever seen, a reddish color that looks like a dust cloud in the background.
“Yes, we are at the edge of the ship. I like to watch them for hours.”
Something else draws my attention. A tapestry so beautifully made, depicting a story I know all too well. “How… you know my faith?”
He shakes his head, “I am certain I don’t.”
“This… story. It’s Rani’s quest with the Argonauts. She fights sea serpents, a witch with snakes as hair who turns people to stone when you look at her, and she finds a golden staff. Look there, she holds it!” I point at Rani, holding the staff in her hand. It is smaller than I had thought—maybe one foot.
His eyes narrow in thought. “It is not a… staff. It’s a small rod used for… This story was based on ancient lore, so there may be similarities. Funny.”
The room Claymore takes me to is hardly a bathroom like the one I have at home. It is so large I can run circles inside and be out of breath after just a few laps. The floor is made of tiny square stones—all shades of brown, with some golden ones as details. The curved ceiling is clear white with an ever-changing pattern of light as if reflected from rippling water. An arch divides the room from a smaller space filled with mirrors and some doors.
The bath is in the middle of the room. It is made of gold-flecked material and is full of… water.
“You want me to… bathe in all that water?”
“Yes, let me choose a nice scent for you.”
Claymore pushes on what I think are little mosaic tiles on the side of the bath—a jar filled with pink stuff emerges. Before I can say anything, he pours some of it into the water. Horrified, I see the pollution spread. “Why did you do that?”
He turns to me, “It’s roses, something Rainey loved, and I hope you will too.”
“But…”
Claymore smiles, “I think you don’t understand things are very different here. You will see with dinner. I will explain it to you. Enjoy your bath and think of water as if you can have as much as you want.”
“I… I will try. I just go in?”
“Can you swim?”
“Are you serious? That is something of the ages.”
He shakes his head, and I hear him mutter something. His body shudders, and he looks at me.
“Ohw… kay. Let me explain the bath to you. Just keep to the shallow side. Do you see here where it is like a place to sit? I will start some bubbles for you. It will relax you. The controls… I will explain them later. If you are ready for that.”
He touches the mosaic structure, and I see it move under his fingers, forming shapes with symbols I don’t understand—the golden surface of the bath changes. I laugh when I see little mouths open beneath the surface and blow bubbles into the water.
“You like that?” Claymore asks.
“It’s weird.”
“I will leave you to it. Please undress. You can dry by… Just walk through that arch to the mirrored room. I will pick you up when the bell chimes in fifteen minutes. We need to feed that growling stomach of yours.
I wait till Claymore has left. I leave my new clothes on a table with a wide selection of little vials. I feel so naked.
The water feels warm when I dip a foot in. I let myself slide into the underwater seat. I feel the bubbles on my legs, my back. I am so nervous I have a hard time… relaxing. The water smells so nice. I think I have a new favorite smell. Roses, he called it. I see the water evaporate into the cooler air—a waste I still can’t understand.
The controls Claymore used are strange; they disappeared a few counts after he used them. But when I move my hand above it, it reacts and becomes shapes of buttons and knobs. I turn on my belly and touch the knob. It solidifies, and I can turn it. The bubbles become less. I turn it in the other direction and feel myself lift from the bottom, floating in the water on a screen of bubbles. It tickles my skin so nicely. I lower the setting. I have some time left before Claymore will be here, but I still need to dry… somehow.
With everything going on, I forgot what I wanted to check all this time. I push my hand between my legs, and my fingers pull those lips apart. I gently touch the surface, the not-so-nice-feeling hole I pee with, and a bit further, the entrance to where babies are made. I could never go deeper than maybe less than an inch. A barrier always stopped me, a thing I should have till the merger. I carefully feel, but… it’s gone! My finger slides as deep as it can go. A strange ticklish feeling that feels… nice. The flesh inside feels strange, soft, and uneven. I have that tickle again as I move my finger inside, making my body tremble. I am not upset Fringe did this. I was already doomed anyway. And I like this feeling just as I like touching my little bee sting thing.
I try to get out of the bath on the other side so as not to touch the bubble controls. But on the other side, a panel of different buttons becomes visible under my fingers. I see all parts of my body like little embossed versions of them. My toes, my breasts, my buttocks… my asshole? My secret? And… the tiny button I had found that is so pleasurable to touch. Is this for cleaning? That is what Claymore had told me: to clean my secret.
I press the button to clean my secret.
The walls reflect my shriek as the bath changes shape. My legs drop deeper as I lie with my belly on some bulge. In front of me, two shapes appear. They look like handles for hands. A stream of water hits me between my legs. It hits my secret, but it feels so good.
“Ohw!” This is…. I feel it hit my special spot. This is better than I have ever felt. I press my eyes shut, enjoying the feeling. My entire body heats up. I moan into the water so as not to make too much sound and alert Claymore. This can continue forever. My heartbeat speeds up like I am running. My heaving chest lifts my face from the water with every shaky breath.
Something happens, something wonderful, and the stream of water changes and hits my thingy directly. It is so much stronger than with my fingers, and whatever I do, how I move, the jet of water follows me. I am panting like never before, blowing bubbles into the water like one of those golden mouths.
The feeling of a thousand sunnylights exploding inside me happens suddenly. But more strong than I have ever felt. Each wave makes me cry out. The water keeps hitting my pea. I can’t take it anymore, and I squirm in the bath. It finally stops. Slowly, my heartbeat and panting slow, my chin rests in the shallow water, and my ragged breath blows bubbles as my lips touch the water. I’ve never had it this intense before. I want this to happen again. I love this bath.
“The handles are so you can have a better grip.”
I fall backward into the bath, sinking into the deep water. I fight for air, flailing my arms and legs as I sink deeper. Water fills my nose, a stinging pain. A strong grip on my arm, and I am pulled from the water.
“You really need to learn to swim,” his eyes look too serious to complain about him being here.
“Why are you… here?”
“I said I would be back in fifteen minutes. And you were still… busy. I just helped you reach it by adding something more.”
I scowl at him. I had forgotten about the time. “You… did that last thing?”
“Yes, if we waited for you to orgasm like that, we would be here for hours, and your dinner would be cold as the void outside.”
I knew I was red from the warm water, but knowing he was watching me… do this thing. “I am so sorry. I am not as good as you thought I was.”
Claymore goes on his knees and bends forward. His head is level with mine, and he peers into my eyes. I see his smile. He is not mad at me.
My legs are shaky as I step outside the bath. Water still flows from my skin, precious water pooling around my feet.
“Arch,” he tells me as he stands up.
My gait is irregular, and my legs do not do what I want them to. Claymore quickly walks toward me and takes my shoulders to steady me. His fingers dig into my flesh as he walks me toward the arch.
“Just walk… slowly.”
I feel the air around me heat; it moves around me, and my hair floats around me as if I am standing in the wind. “This is amazing,” I shout at Claymore. The water is blown away from my skin—such a waste. But I am also strangely at ease.
“You are amazing, Raneesha. I want to educate you.”
I know he means it. And I want him to teach me about his world, which is magical to me. I want him to teach me, and I can show this world to… I feel I am alone without my family. I miss my mother. I miss… Johar. He had seen me fall. He will have told my parents about my death by now. My picture brain shows my mother crying. I don’t want her to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Claymore asks.
“Nothing… Will I ever see my family? My people?”
“We will find a way,” he says. I trust him. I think he can do anything.
Claymore cuts my hair. It is so much better like this. He colors it a brownish-red color he calls auburn. My hair is on fire, and it looks how I felt between my legs. I love both, and I realize this was such a crazy day. I shake my head to see it move in the mirror and smile. “Thank you. It’s… beautiful.” I never see myself as beautiful, especially not when Johar jokes I am to him, the girl with a boyish body. But seeing myself in the mirror, I feel… better about myself. I want Johar to see me like this, especially when wearing princess clothes.
Claymore stares at me, “You are so much like Rainey. Not just your looks but your voice. Your little squeaks as you enjoy pleasuring your… secret.”
I hold my breath. The bath is made to do what it did for me. And Rainey… let him watch her.
Descent to Nothing
With a flickering torch held aloft, he ventured into the yawning maw of the ancient cavern, its darkness swallowing the feeble light with voracious hunger. Each step echoed in the vast emptiness, reverberating against the ancient stone walls like whispers from forgotten epochs. Yet, undeterred by the oppressive gloom, he pressed onward, his heart ablaze with determination to uncover the secrets veiled within the labyrinthine depths.
The Teller
I attach the lamp to my hip. Its flickering flame is not strong enough to see more than a few yards. On a previous trip, I opened the doors to the elevator shaft. I try to find the courage to jump to the other side. The red gleam of a metal ladder, a promise of more rooms to explore. But now… I have no choice. This will not be easy with the previous failed jump in my thoughts. I can hardly see the rungs with this light, and I will have to grab it after my jump. I have an idea that could work. I tie the rope around my chest and the other end to a metal strut in the corridor.
There is no use to wait, I try to tell myself. I run toward the shaft, starting my jump way too early. The other side rushes toward me. I see the red rungs of the ladder and clutch them. It slams painfully against my chest, and I am sure I broke some of my ribs. The pain becomes unbearable, and I scream. A loud crack answers me, and the ladder moves, breaking away from the wall. I fall, clutching the metal. When the rope is at its end, it crushes my chest, and my broken ribs hurt like someone pulled them from my chest. Pain rakes my body as I slowly swing at the end of my rope…
I wake, coughing, wheezing… I try to lift myself to ease the pain. But in the end, I need to let go when my shaking arms tire. The pain returns tenfold. My lamp is out, and I see nothing but darkness. If there is a ladder, it would be on the other side of the shaft. I place my feet against the wall and push. My head violently hits the wall on the other side. It’s almost as if I can smell the metal of the ladder. I wave frantically to see if I can grab it. I feel my fingers hit something, a painful sting to my knuckles. My next jump is less strong, but the pain in my chest is now so strong I am afraid I will lose consciousness again. I feel the ladder, and I can grab it. I climb a bit and hang with an arm around a rung as the pain slowly diminishes to an acceptable level. I feel my ribs. I think they were not broken, just bruised. But it still hurts like hell.
I try to untie the knots, but I just can’t. I am even unsure if I can climb down with this pain. I am afraid I will just faint and fall. It’s useless anyway. If I find Raneesha, she will not be able to climb up. With my knife, I cut the rope. Without her, I wouldn’t want to live anyway.
I have no idea how long I am climbing down. The pain is bearable but constant. I started counting the steps but stopped after a hundred. I don’t dare to try to fix my lamp, afraid the pain will make me faint if I do any other movement. I am in complete darkness. I think about Raneesha falling this distance, and I know there is no chance she has survived the fall. What was I ever thinking? My tears cool my face. I will lie beside her and find death with her. I will take her in my arms, and maybe we will meet again in heaven. But I will not go to heaven; I will go to hell, and she will be in heaven. My perfect Raneesha…
My knees buckle when I feel a floor under me. I’ve reached the end! In the darkness, I manage to rekindle my lamp and see I am at the end of the shaft. Strange machinery made of dark metal that shines as my light touches it. And… the fallen ladder. Ten feet above me, I see the gleam of the elevator doors, its white surface stained by ages of red dust. I bite through the pain and place the bend ladder. It creaks as I climb but holds my weight.
With the strength I have left, I can not open the doors. My fingers are unable to pry it open. I am stuck. I will die here, far away from my Raneesha, who never knew I loved her.
I sit on the floor, the machinery mocking me in silence. Some sort of square frame lies on the floor. Maybe I can use it to make a tool to wedge the doors open. It is stuck to the floor, like a part of the floor. Is that a handle? I pull it, and it opens a hatch. Below me, maybe twelve feet, I see another floor. And light! Carefully, I lower myself; there is more light here than my lamp provides.
I understand now. This is the elevator! Its doors are partially open—enough space to push myself through. I remove my backpack, ignoring the pain in my chest, and push myself through the opening. The corridors run in all directions. Much like the floor I had left. But these have working lights—more light than I have ever seen.
Raneesha must be in… that direction. I almost run to get there as fast as I can, each step as if nails are pushed into my chest. There are more corridors here than above. I realize the temperature is not what I would expect. It is… pleasant here.
I stand before a vast transparent wall. Behind it, darkness. But it is, to my relief, the darkness of the shaft as I see markings that tell me this is level zero-one. A small door should give me access. I fear it will not open, my last barrier taking away my wanted fate, die beside Raneesha. I fall through the door as I use all my remaining strength to open it—more stairs going down, like the ones far above me. The heat is unbearable here, like staring into a black fire.
I can see the sunnylight above me—not more than a distant speck, a firefly in the wheat fields at home. I go deeper, where I should find her. There is no way she could have survived this. The floor is littered with parts of fallen metal stairs. I have to climb through, over, and under. I find the remains of fallen people, heat-dried carcasses. But I cannot find Raneesha.
I shout, “Raneesha!” I am stupid. If she had fallen here, her body would have been broken by the metal. I feel panic, where is she? In my mind, I see her, my beautiful Raneesha, mutilated as some of the dead around me, their bodies crushed and severed in pieces by the structures they fell on.
My heart stops when I see blood. A large pool of it, and from there, a trail as if she had dragged herself away. Or maybe some animal has gotten her? My muscles tighten as I think of what could have happened. I begin to follow the trail.
Rainey
In a display of her divine purity, Rani, the embodiment of celestial grace, shattered the walls of the enemy fortress with the ethereal resonance of her song. As her melodious voice caressed the very foundations of stone, the fortified bastion crumbled like sand before the ocean tide, succumbing to the transcendent power of her harmonious hymn. Witnessing the awe-inspiring spectacle, the general of the opposing army, humbled by Rani's magnificence, knelt in supplication, entreating her mercy. Touched by his sincerity and moved by compassion, Rani extended her hand in friendship, weaving bonds of peace where once there were only echoes of conflict.
The Teller
I have never seen food like this. When I take my first bite, my eyes lose focus as I enjoy the taste. And each piece of food seems to taste different.
Claymore sits opposite me, his arms folded and a smile on his face. Behind him is the wall with stars. The window, he says. We are eating in her bedroom. I think he did this because I like the see-through wall with stars so much. I like the thought he did it for that reason, at least.
“What?” I mumble as I chew.
“You will need to learn to eat. Those sticks are used to put things in your mouth. But I guess fingers are perhaps the best choice at the moment.”
I smile. I don’t understand the two sticks. I take one and try to push its sharp end into one of the bites. It falls apart, and I hear Claymore laugh as little white shapes spill over my plate.
“Give them to me,” he says.
I hand him the sticks, and he puts them together in one hand.
“You do it like this,” he says and somehow picks up a piece between the two sticks. “This is called Sushi, an ancient type of food but one of Rainey’s favorites.”
I start to like her; this is by far my favorite food.
Claymore feeds me. My quickly filling stomach pushes against the side of the table each time I lean forward, and he puts one in my mouth. I can’t eat that many, even though I want to. It's such a waste of food to leave the rest. Never in my life, unless I was ill, have I left food on my plate.
“Food and liquids are created by… MR’s. There is no limitation to what you want to eat and drink.”
“Emars?” I don’t know the word, but anything that can make this food has to be something divine.”
“Molecular Rebuilders… MR’s.”
I nod as if I understand, but my wide-open eyes can’t hide my puzzlement, and his mouth widens in a grin.
Claymore leans toward me, “Your deity, Rani. Tell me about her. You said you recognized a story. Can you tell me another? Do you know anything about… walls of an enemy city?”
I know what he is asking: “Yes, she sang, and her beautiful voice made the walls of the enemy's fortress crumble to dust.” It is one of my favorite stories. I like to sing, but I think it would sooner melt ears than crumble walls.
“And your deity, she is… very chaste?”
“Yes, she is. Rani the Pure,” I look at my plate. The remaining sushi things are eyes that stare at me in disgust. I am far from pure, and Claymore knows it. Nausea comes quickly, and I feel panic. “I am so sorry,” I can’t hold my tears back as I try to recite a prayer. But I just can’t. I am such a failure. I want to be home with my mother. I’m about to cry and hide it with my arm.
Soft hands stroke my hair. I had not expected them to be like this. I feel his stomach press against the back of my head as I lift it. It does not feel like armor at all but soft and warm as skin.
“Rainey, like you, loved to enjoy her body’s pleasures. There is nothing wrong with that, my precious bird. She loved stories—stories about knights, dragons, and mythical creatures. And she loved to have sex. And combining those two.”
His hands, as they caress my head, relax me. “What do you mean?” I ask. His fingers touch my neck, and his thumbs rub my cheeks.
“Rainey loved to do what we call roleplay. She loved the idea of first experiences, playing the maiden, playing to be… pure.”
“Like Rani?” It doesn’t make sense to me. “Why would you want to be chaste but do the opposite?” I like what he does; my jaw clenches like I eat delicious sushi.
“No, she liked to act as if she was. It had to be as if it was her first time with a man, and I think she could go so deep into her play that it was again her first marvelous experience. And it must have felt the same for her partners in those plays. Her excitement, her… enjoyment of pleasure, was legendary.”
His hands are warm when he enters my shirt and caresses my chest. I feel hot, like how I am when I play with myself. My nipples harden, and I am afraid he will notice. “Wh…why,” my voice falters because of my irregular breath, “do you,” I gasp when his fingers squeeze my nipples, “tell me this?”
“Your stories about Rani are about Rainey. I know because I wrote them. You worship her, but it is a version that has changed. So, according to your faith, you can give in to pleasure as your Rani did. Please let me teach you.”
Warmth spreads through my body. I think about the idea that my faith and my fears were all wrong and the pleasant idea that I am not going to hell. I feel as if I am weightless… happy. Claymore takes me from my chair and hugs me. I wrap my arms around him. I don’t know how to hug him. I don’t know what he likes. Does he feel like me? I’ve never held anyone like this other than my mother. My body shakes as I move my hands around his butt. They feel normal, my fingers brushing over human skin. I feel like laughing. It just happens; I know it is strange, and he may not understand this. In my thoughts, I am holding a naked man.
“I am happy you can laugh. This must be a lot for you.”
“I am sorry,” I chuckle, “but are you… naked?”
He looks down into my eyes and says, “I guess you can say that. Does that upset you?”
“You don’t have that… boy thing.”
Something clicks, and the golden lines near his groin split open. Something slides outside that looks like… how I think it should look. It’s like a sausage, but where the little rope ties it together, it is open as if the contents will spill out.
A balloon shape is hanging under it, dark as the rest of his… thing. I don’t know why I do it; maybe it is my normal stupidity, but I grab it. I like to feel things with my fingers. Like…even if someone tells me it is too hot to touch, I will still touch it.
It feels warm and soft, not firm at all. Inside, I feel two little ball shapes. The rest of his sausage grows, and something like wet skin starts to emerge from the skin. A small hole, like a slit, excretes clear fluid. It looks weird, and I giggle.
“Those are my balls; it’s where sperm is stored in males. Some guys like you to touch them, even lick them. You can take them into your mouth and gently give them some love. They are very sensitive, so you can easily hurt guys if you don’t take care.”
I kicked a boy there once. I saw him double over, screaming in pain. I thought he was making a scene for no reason. But I understand now what I had hit with my ankle. I squeeze, and Claymore flinches. “I am sorry. Do you also feel like a guy?”
“In all ways possible, I am not different from human males. I have emotions and sexual desires. It is my function to have them.”
I quickly release his balls. It was my touch that must have made his thing do this.
“Is it the same with Fringe?”
“No, his function is medical care, but he does feel love for his patients—a different kind of love. He cares for your entire well-being.”
“So… the bath made me feel like that on purpose?” I try to make sense of it. What happened is still fresh in my memory.
“Yes, the button you pushed was for stimulation of your genitals, your… sheath area. And I added a stream to hit your clitoris, the thing that made you orgasm.”
I’m already feeling hot, but his description of what happened makes my face feel on fire. Johar is in my mind; he will have a sword similar to Claymore to fit my sheath. I push myself away from Claymore.
“Something wrong, Raneesha?”
I don’t know how to tell him. “There is this boy in my village, Johar. He is someone I like.”
Claymore smiles, and I swallow.
“That is good. I can teach you how to pleasure him. He will find you as adorable as I do. You will make him cum like no other woman,” he says.
He does not understand.
“I am too young. I am a child to him.”
“You are older than Rainey when she had sex with a boy for the first time.”
The android looks at me as if I had said something crazy.
“You taught her how to do that?” I ask.
He pushes me toward an area filled with red and yellow cushions. Claymore picks me up and throws me to the middle. I yell as I bounce on the soft surface.
“I think I need to explain more,” he tells me.
I nod at him. It’s strange how I feel about this. He is not a human, but he is so... human in his behavior. I feel like I can tell him things, and maybe that is what he was to Rainey—the idea that this girl was the Rani from my faith.
“Royals… they enjoyed sex as much as any other. And I was assigned to teach her. And I want to teach you.”
It is hard to change my ideas about this. But I so much want to.
“Rani, or how I knew her, Rainey, was devoted to sexual pleasure. I don’t know who made your faith so different from who she was. She had some jealous admirers. I guess one of them wanted her to remain in his memory as she was in her roleplay stories, but without them having her endings.”
I feel dizzy, and I cannot hold back my tears. I’m so happy, I think. I’m not a bad girl. I will not be in hell, at least not yet. The deity I dreaded was a deity I should love. Tears begin to well in my eyes. I hug Claymore as he moves closer to me. I think he is afraid I am again crying because I am unhappy. I feel his body click, and his boy thing moves back into his body. “No, I’m fine. It’s… I’m happy in a way. I’m stupid, don’t mind me. Just…” I don’t know what to tell him. I want him to teach me more. And I like him. Thinking about his… boy thing makes my face glow, and my belly flutters as a flock of birdies chase each other through the halls of my town.
“Can you tell me? How to… do things?” I ask.
His laugh is so lovely. It fills me with a sushi-like feeling.
His head moves sideways, his eyes squint. “I don’t teach by telling. I teach by doing.”
I feel like falling again, weightless. But it's a nice feeling. Everything is going so fast. His body is made like a hero, with muscles I have never seen on any man. I feel like Rani, my new fire-hair, part of the new me. I feel so…
“Yes, show me!” My own words scare me, but I want this.
My stomach muscles strain as Claymore pushes me backward on the pillows. I try to relax, but my voice squeaks, “What are you doing?”
“Just relax as I show you some of your more important erogenous zones, zones that will give you pleasure. You will find out which ones you like best, and, for me, a quest to find those. My pleasure is, in part, to give you pleasure. And you will learn, in time, it will also give you pleasure to do that to the ones you love.”
I can only nod, and a small ‘eh’ is all I can utter; his black body leans over me, and I see nothing but black. He gives me a kiss, soft lips on my head. It is as my mother does to show her affection. I put my hands on his sides and touch his warm skin, the firmness of how I imagine muscles should feel under my fingers. I feel him shudder.
His eyes move to mine, and I see the same eagerness in his as he must see in mine.
His head goes lower down my body, kissing the nape of my neck, pushing a tongue into my neck that feels… wet. My head arches backward, the tickling feeling so enjoyable. His hands slide under my clothes, touching my nipples that feel hard. He bunches my shirt up so they are easy to remove, and I help him as I squirm out of them. I put my fingers behind the waistline and push them down. I hear Claymore chuckle, “I like your enthusiasm. I will come to your little wings later, my precious bird.”
I like the feeling of his warmth as he leans against me, my naked secret pressed against his warm body. I push it hard against him and sigh as the flock of birdies flies through my body.
“I think I will let you cum; you are not in the mood to have a slow explanation, I fear,” he says. “This is a pulsator, and with it, I will pleasure your clitoris.”
He holds something I have not seen before close to my eyes. It’s as dark as his skin, a thing that looks like a triangle. I feel his head on my chest, and warm air, as if he is breathing, flows over my nipple. His mouth kisses it, and it feels so wonderful. His tongue bathes it in precious saliva, which I know is only for someone you love. It warms me, it heats me, and I can not stop letting out a moan.
A hand pushes my legs apart, and I feel myself exposed, a coldness as when wet skin is cooled by air. I feel bloated—some sort of pressure inside me, in the part that is so secret, was so secret. Something touches me there, pressed against me. I am surprised to hear myself squeak as he rubs it against me. It slides through my cleft; it’s such a wonderful feeling. I arch my neck to see what he is doing, but his body blocks the view. I feel something tap against me, a tap that sends a shiver through my body, and I know he just did that to my clitori… whatever.
My mouth opens as I feel more taps hitting it, but he also rubs the shape along that little thing. I spread my legs as wide as possible, and the feeling gets even stronger. I love this; it is like the bath but different. His tongue touches my nipple, and my body scissors, or at least tries to. He holds me in place as feelings I am learning to love so much race through my body. I moan, I pant, I squirm, I squeeze my hands into fists. I love what he does for me. I love Claymore to do this for me. It comes much quicker than in the bath—that lovely, intense feeling. My whole body ripples with these pleasure spikes, wonderful muscle contractions that surge from my ass to my stomach. I think of Rani, how she loved this, my deity…
Every now and then, another wave goes through me, just a little touch by Claymore starting a new one. My stomach feels like I did some crunches, tired…
He moves away from me. The device in his hand is coated with something wet.
Claymore looks at it, “It’s your juices. This is normal.”
Part of me still fears wasting my water; my ‘juices’ coating the device in his hand makes me feel guilty. At the same time, I am ashamed Claymore knows how excited I am. And how excited I am about him… I know he…
When I look at Claymore, I feel warmth and understand what he meant by giving pleasure back to the ones you love. I know what I want.
“Can I also make you feel this happy?” I ask.
“You can, will you let me fuck you later?”
I’m shocked when he says the words that a man or woman should not speak before merger. Yet, coming from him, it is different. Not dirty or wrong.
And I want him. I want him to… fuck me. I feel my body relax in such a strange way when I think about him doing that to me.
My ‘Yes’ comes out as a sigh. Why wait?
Moving Paintings
Amidst the whispering winds and echoing whispers of ancient lore, he pressed onward, driven by an unyielding determination to find the elusive beacon of hope that was Rani. And though the journey was fraught with peril and uncertainty, he knew that the quest to find Rani was a noble endeavor worthy of the trials it entailed.
The Teller
It’s so much blood I feel my stomach sink towards my feet. She could never have survived this. Something stole her body. It must be something big, as after a few yards, the trail changes where it must have lifted her from the floor. In the dust are strange markings and a bit further spatters of blood. The distance between the markings increases as if it started running. It’s not an animal, something wearing shoes but with a strange pattern on its sole.
I can’t leave this area. I see what I think are doors, but none open for me. I feel dizzy; my search for my Raneesha stopped by this maze of strange rooms. Even dying next to her denied, I feel tears warm my face. I keep running from room to room. Maybe I missed something.
I find a room with a chair. I feel tired of all the running, the tension, my calls for her. A curious selection of objects is displayed behind glass: tools, shiny metal, some in different colors. A green one has nobs along its surface, and a yellow one has ridges like a handle. But most are made of a shiny metal in curved and curious shapes. Each is neatly placed for display on two transparent hooks.
Next to it is a dark glass pane with numbers that glow as embers move across its surface. I am mesmerized by the movement. It is time, but in a strange format—numbers, not the sand-filled wooden system in our village that clicked and chimed the hours away. The soft surface of the chair shapes itself to me when I sit on it.
The screen brightens, and I see text. The white-on-black text is like a list of chants for a sermon, and they seem to be something of lore. I recognize the stories about Rani. But the name is not Rani; the name is spelled Rainey. I guess, when said out loud, it is the same.
The time thing returns. The list appears again when I try to get out of the chair. There must be a connection. I try moving, and I shake the chair, but nothing happens. The third line differs from the rest, a thin line under the words—Rainey’s Ordeal of Tasks. I recognize the story. It is about Rani and the twelve impossible tasks. As I clutch the armrest, the line moves up and down again. There are small things that click under my hand. Square little tiles that feel loose. They control the line on the screen. The view changes, and the name of the story is now filling the screen. It fades to white, and I see people. People who do things. I can hear them! I don’t dare to move. This is magic. If this is the story of Rani, I have found something holy. The screen erupts in colors and movement. I hear people talk and laugh, and then it starts. It is a play with actors and fake swords that break even with the pretend battles. The actors have a great time. But amidst it all, the one playing Rani smiles but takes her role very seriously. It is a girl with hair as copper, but much younger than me. As far as I know, it’s the end of the story when Rani has completed the tasks and returns to the king. He is not sitting on a throne but is lying in a field of pillows, surrounded by women and men.
I need to continue the search for Raneesha, but when I look at the screen as I leave the room, I see something strange, so I sit down again.
The king is on his knees, his face on the same level as Rani’s, and his lips are on hers. His hands touch inappropriately. I know she is too young, but she reminds me of the girl I saw in the pictures—a slightly older version then, one who didn’t think she was too young to do that.
My fingers clutch the armrests when the king tugs at her pants, and Rani… pushes them down. I know it is not Rani, but this is very wrong; Rani is purity, and this is sacrilege, but despite my anger, I want to see more. The view zooms in on her. I see every detail of her bottom—the goosebumps on her skin. The shadow of her crevice makes me think impure thoughts. The king’s fingers wrap around her buttocks and pull them apart. The shadow flees, and I see her rose-colored asshole and the king’s finger touching it.
I watch as he takes the young girl back to the pillows. The scene is like the pictures I had seen. The king disrobes, and I see his penis is as hard as mine has just become as it fills with my horrible lust.
I look around, knowing nobody is here, but watching this makes me feel even more like when I was with the pictures; pleasurable shivers run over my skin. The girl even looks like the one from the pictures. I feel my manhood getting stronger, and I unlace my crotch part. I feel miserable giving in to this feeling now I failed Raneesha again, but the desire is too great. The girl in the moving picture reminds me of her, though her hair is different. But the rest is how I imagine Raneesha when I lie in my bed stroking my swollen manhood to that point of pure pleasure. Seeing it happen in such detail and hearing it makes my heart race. The king’s hardness has split her lips open, and I watch them stretch around it as he enters her. Precious moisture I don’t expect to see coating his penis as it continues to slide inside the moaning girl, and I imagine it feels like my hand does to mine. Despite all the other sounds, I hear faint slurping sounds from their joining, the claps as his hips slam against her buttocks.
It starts, those pleasant twitches in my ass, that sensation I want to prolong each time, but I cannot as I want to have that wonderful release of my sperm. As I look at the girl on the screen crying out, I scream. I have never had it this strong. My sperm shoots out in an arc and lands on my suit. The movie continues as my lust slowly wanes. My hand is coated with white goo, and I wipe it off on the chair.
The scene of the girl and the man has changed, and I see other people in an undressed state, doing things I have never seen before. The viewer moves closer to a couple, and I see his penis go into a woman’s ass. She seems to like it. I can’t see her face, but her hands pull her buttocks apart so he can enter her as deep as possible. The idea… to fuck an ass. I need to know if this Rani girl tried this. I move the buttons on the chair, reading the lines of text, but they don’t tell me what I want to find. The controls are not that hard, and I can move forward in time. I can speed up time. It takes me some time to find it, pausing to see Rani have sex in positions I had never thought about. I see her sitting on a guy, sliding her hips back and forth as she sucks on his nipples. I feel myself grow again and remove my suit. I no longer care; the temperature is fine here, and nobody will see me. Naked, I sit on the chair, the heels of my feet against my ass. I slowly start stroking my penis as I watch more of Rani. I touch my nipple, and I understand what makes them so pleasurable. I had no idea they were this sensitive. My ass clenches, and even that… feels different. I touch the sphincter with a finger. A little spike of pleasure is my reward. It feels so soft, so sensitive. I can’t imagine having something like a penis inside it. But I do see it happen in the movies. And not just with women, but guys… fucking guys...in their butts. I look at a woman who sucks a guy’s penis in her mouth. And then I see it… Rani, fidgetting to aim the penis under her, into her… ass. She spits in her hand, precious saliva, and rubs it on the pink star. It looks crazy, her asshole stretching around that penis. Her moans are different, but she enjoys it. She adds more spit and her movement speeds up. Rocking back and forth, her open-mouthed face looks at the viewer, at me. I’ve never seen her this close by. Her face reminds me so much of Raneesha. And this girl is doing what I could have done safely with Raneesha. I wish I had touched her, held her, hugged her. But I had always been too afraid. She would have made fun of me and my affection, as she always does whenever I say something nice about her.
My mouth is dry, but I spit in my hand, just a dribble. A line of wetness between two fingers, little air bubbles trapped in my precious liquid. I smear it on my sphincter and hear and feel the bubbles pop. I try to reach a nipple with my tongue, just to feel how that would be, without much success. I push my finger against my anus. It defends against the intruder as it clenches. How did she ever get an entire penis inside? I try again with more force and manage to get part of my finger in. It’s a strange sensation but not extremely pleasant. I have to know! I push it deeper, and the texture under my finger changes to something smooth. Pleasing jolts shoot from my anus, my dick twitches in my hand as my sphincter contracts around my deeply embedded finger. I push it as deep as possible, wiggling it inside—little wonderful buzzes. I understand a bit how the girl feels. It’s hard to do all at the same time, but I enjoy it, my nails scratching the smooth surface and my other hand rubbing my manhood.
Rani stops. The penis that was fucking her plops out, and a little stream of white drips out of her open sphincter. It remains open, a dark hole with a red border that she even enlarges when she pulls her ass cheeks further apart. Someone else gets into view, a thing I recognize in his hand. Rani’s mouth opens wide, and her eyes shine when he pushes it home into that forbidden hole. She squeals in delight when she feels it. Rani closes her eyes, and a shiver runs over her body. He just leaves it in her, the thing pointing out of her as a small tail. It is as if nothing happens. But then I see her twitch, and her calves tremble as I have seen already with her orgasms and all her other little funny tells.
I look at the green device in the rack, and I stop breathing. I feel the pain in my chest as I stand up, but I don’t care. Sweat forms on my body, even though I am naked… It feels heavy in my hand, its sleek green surface pocked with nobs the size of a kernel of corn. I am afraid to push this inside me. It is huge. Maybe even a bit wider than two of my fingers. Rani, in the moving pictures, is still shaking, her laughter only interrupted by cries as another wave of that addictive pleasure hits her. I just need to push it in somehow. I go to my knees on the floor, spreading them to give me more access. By Rani, I don’t care anymore. I spit several times in my hand, collecting more of my precious liquid. I rub it in my asscrack, tickling my sensitive sphincter. I feel it drip along my ass cheeks. I need to be quick before it dries. I place the thing against me, find the correct spot, and lean back. The end of it hits the floor, and I feel it push painfully against me as I try to have it enter me. I close my eyes and lean backward.
The pain as it widens my asshole is like a knife cut. I cry out, and tears form in my eyes. But the moment I stop to move, the pain is slowly leaving. It can even move inside me now. When I stand up, it almost drops out. With some difficulty, I sit on the chair again. Rani is still enjoying her… this… thing. The thought this was hers, the idea of her little ass enjoying the same thing, makes me even more determined.
I turn the ring I found at the back. It starts slow. Tremors, ticks, and little movements pleasure my bowels. I expected the knobbly things to do something, but it was nothing like that. It feels as if something is… fucking me, but at the same time, it ticks against a wonderful place between my ass and balls. Expanding and contracting waves that ripple over its surface, massaging something...The feeling comes quickly; I want it to last, but the rod in my rectum is relentlessly pleasuring that part I didn’t know I had. Liquid heat erupts and coats the hand wrapped around my penis.
I watch the girl as she takes it out. I see the sweat on her body. Her eyes look at me as she blows away a piece of hair that covers an eye. The hair that suits her rounded face, the face so similar to Raneesha.
Maybe I can die here, watching these moving paintings. It wouldn’t be that bad. My manhood softens in my hand as the device still hums inside me. My trembling hands find the ring, and I turn it off.
I will die of dehydration, and not only because of not drinking, but of loss of fluids like this. I don’t care. It would be a funny death. Someone would find my corpse, my hand clutched around a shriveled sausage, and this thing stuck in my ass. It would be something Raneesha would have joked about. Her lovely humor starts to affect me. Maybe if I had told her more often about her beauty, she would have seen me as more than a friend. In so many ways, I was responsible for her death. Now, my only hope was that it would have been quick.
Soft clicking sounds become louder, like nails clicking on a floor. Instead of running, I freeze. My sphincter clenched painfully around the green device.
I jolt as I hear a voice from the door opening, “I like this one. It’s one of a kind. She didn’t like vids taken of anal fun though she loved it.”
The room gets colder when I see what has just been spoken to me.
Lessons in swordfighting
Rani, adorned in the mantle of purity, held steadfast to the sacred vow of chastity, reserving the union of hearts and souls until the sanctity of the merger was solemnized. With a heart as pure as the morning dew and a spirit untainted by worldly desires, she embraced the noble path of virtue and fidelity, cherishing the bond of love as a sacred covenant to be honored and revered.
The Teller
“Where is Fringe?” I ask. I don’t want him to see us do this.
“He is near where he found you. He tells me he will be here soon.”
“When did he tell you?” I ask.
His eyebrows shoot upward, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. We don’t use human voice to communicate. I don’t know how to explain this. It’s like… reading minds? We can use something called ‘radio’ to communicate. It’s as if you and I talk. You just can’t hear it.”
I am unsure how I feel about this; someone is talking about you, and you don’t know it. “That’s… weird.”
“I know, and that is why we have some rules. We would not use it when humans are present, and speech can be used for communication.”
“Did you tell him about what we did?”
I know the answer when Claymore stares at his feet.
“You have to understand that Fringe cares about you. And what we did. Well, he thinks it’s natural and healthy.”
“And you?”
Claymore smiles, “I think it is the best feeling in the world, and after a thousand years, I would like to…”
“Fuck me?”
“Yes, certainly that, but only if you want me to.”
I feel nervous. This is really going to happen if I don’t say no. I love Johar, but Claymore has been nice to me and makes me feel… liked.
“I want… that.” My voice breaks. I am so nervous.
He pushes me on my back into the many pillows, throwing most of them aside. One he uses to prop up my head, another one he pushes under my backside.
“I will teach you later about other ways to be stimulated, but I want to see how you react to penetration. It is the most pleasurable way for two to engage in.”
I nod, I understand… I think.
His body hovers over me, my legs pushed apart, and I feel again how bloated I get down there when I think about… sex. Like guys have their dicks grow, I have my ridges and inside grow and... get wet. “Is that why it is forbidden in my faith? Because I lose so much water when I think about… this?”
Claymore frowns, “I… don’t know. Are you stalling?”
I shake my head. His penis looks huge. I am not sure if that can ever fit inside me. I feel the hairs on my neck stand up.
“Fringe has prepared your pussy. You should not have any problems accepting a man,” he says.
“Pussy?” There are so many words that are new to me. I try to figure out what they mean, but this one is too strange.
Claymore sighs, “Pussy, an ancient word for what you call your secret. Other common ones are vagina, cunt, box, kitty, beaver. Kitty and Pussy were common house pets.”
“I don’t know them,” I say.
“I guess your people ate them, just like I will show you later how someone can eat your pussy.”
“No!”I laugh, but he smiles, and I feel like a child who does not understand the joke.
“You will love it, I promise. It is not actual eating but a word we use for cunnilingus. Oh, so many things to teach you, my little bird.”
A hand brushes along my inside thigh, splendid tickles that make me tense my stomach. Fingers dart over my secret… my pussy. As the fluttering of bird’s wings, I feel his finger’s quick strokes all over. A finger sinks inside me so unexpectedly that I groan as the delightful feeling sends little pleasure spikes to my brain. My face turns red when I feel how wet I am, ashamed my lust is coating his finger. It’s hard to let go of that feeling of losing water. He just smiles at me as he rubs it over my… cunt.
He places his wand; I can also make up funny names, at my… bleaver? His hands are next to my neck, and he pushes forward. My shoulders nudge against his arms as his wand tries to enter me. My eyes open wide when I feel him split me open. It feels so large. Like a massive no…no…don’t think that. But I can imagine it feels as if a corn cob is wedged inside me. He waits as I get used to the feeling of my stretched pussy. I think he can try to move. I give a small nod while I keep my eyes locked on his.
It’s a hundred-tickle feeling when I feel him slide inside me. I look between us. My ridges are pushed wide apart by his black wand that touches parts inside me that nothing has ever touched. I like seeing my cream-colored skin, not that red anymore, rubbing along his black magic wand.
I want to feel that tickle again, that nails-over-your-back scratch feeling, but the one that is a thousand times better. I cannot stop myself from moaning when he pulls back and pushes into me again. My mouth opens in a silent gasp, and my breathing just stops. It is like the feeling with my clit, but it spreads over my entire ass and that… secret part. He fucks me slowly to give me time to get used to the feeling of being filled with the large intrusion. He looks into my eyes, I see a quick smile, and he starts fucking me faster, and I hear the sopping sounds of my lust liquid.
The feeling gets stronger. Where I could reset myself as he waited, I no longer have that time. Each thrust into me adds to this peak I climb, that peak to my cum.
“How is this? Are you enjoying?” he asks.
“Ah…mazh…ing,” I breathe.
“Would you like Johar to fuck you?”
“I don’t know, I don’t care,” I say. My head is spinning. This is so much, and the question so strange.
“Yes, you do. So, would you like him to fuck you?”
I try to think about Johar, the boy who did everything for me, the boy who I wanted for so long to do to me… what I didn’t know would feel like this. I close my eyes, and I see Johar. Claymore’s trusts become faster, the sopping sounds from my cunt stronger. My body trembles as I cum, my inner walls squeezing around that wondrously hard thing he keeps pushing into me. My back arching from the floor, and Claymore grabs me, pulling my shaking body against his as I am still impaled on his hardness. My little cum-quakes are stifled by his strong arms.
I lean against him, his wand still deep inside me. He teases me with little twitches inside me that make me giggle.
“Now for another one, one where you can just enjoy. I can touch your body all over, and you can think of Johar, who fucks you.
“You are not mad because of that?” I look into his golden eyes.
“No, I want you to fuck him.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Later, little bird, now next lesson.”
The large cushion feels warm against my belly. I feel like a spider with its long legs wrapped around a fly.
I understand what he wants to do. It is like how dogs do their thing. The only sexual education I had at home, now I think of it. The only difference with them is that I am stretched over a pillow. I bark. Claymore ignores me by not barking back.
His warm hands squeeze my middle, and he enters me. The feeling is just as wonderful but more… crazy. I love this. I try not to think about Johar. To enjoy longer without cumming.
Claymore is giving me a hard time with that plan. But it’s just amazing; he changes his pace and depth. I never know for how long a rhythm will last, and each change takes me higher to my cum. His hands stroke different parts of my body.
It feels like he fucks me forever as I count the stars behind the wall to prolong this wonderful feeling. I cum twice, my vision exploding in white hot stars that add to the ones outside. When I hear myself fart, he tells me it is my pussy, that he has pushed too much air into me. I feel his fingers reach inside me, and he tells me to push. A musical fart escapes that reminds me of the flute they play at festivities. I think I am red as a bee, but I slowly ignore it when he starts fucking me again, and he is acting as if it is normal. Maybe it is… I have never seen or heard people… fuck.
“This is how girls like it, movements that are not always predictable, touches that are made of wonder,” he says.
I agree with Claymore.
(Un)pleasantly Surprised
As the hero beheld Rani's countenance for the first time, he was ensnared by the radiant allure that emanated from her being. Her beauty, a celestial symphony of grace and purity, eclipsed the splendor of the sun and moon alike, casting a luminous spell upon his heart. In her presence, the world seemed to stand still, enraptured by the ethereal glow that adorned her form.
The Teller
I clutch the chair and hide my manhood. What I hear talking is the voice of a man, but I see a skeleton. My heart races as I look at the thing. It is wearing shadow-dark armor that hides most of its bones. I let myself fall from the chair, keeping it between us as I prepare to run away. I feel the thing slip from my ass…
“Oh, you are trying to fit in… or more fit it in?”
I grab my pants with one hand.
“I come here every day and watch my princess,” it continues, “for the last thousand, one hundred and twenty years.”
When it speaks, it is nothing like I have heard before, like feet shuffling in sand. “I mean no harm,” I tell it, my voice breaking. I hate that I sound so afraid.
“Me neither. It is funny that I would meet someone else here—at least someone who seems nice to me. If you want, you can zip it up or continue with what you were doing. I will not bite… yet.”
“Zip it up?” He must be talking about my free-hanging part… I see the skull smile, and I know it is because my face is turning scarlet.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. She had that effect on most people. She was the love of so many, the desire of even more. And now, even in death. I loved her too, just differently. I still like to see her enjoy life as in these vids. I also have holos. Do you care to watch them?”
With his last words, his smile disappears, and he stares at the floor.
As he is distracted, I step into my suit; pain makes me flinch, my ribs telling me not to move.
“You’re in pain?”
I cannot let it show my weakness; “it’s nothing.”
“If you say so. Tell me, why are you here? How did you get here? I’ve not seen a live human for a thousand years, and now…”
“I’m Johar,” I try to be friendly, “I… I was looking for someone, and I climbed down.”
“Climbing down is preferable to falling. Less messy. Many tried that method and failed to survive. Someone tried it not more than a few hours ago.”
Cold shivers run over me, “Did you just find someone?”
“Yes, someone who dropped down. I was here and heard something fall, a part of the structure from the upper levels. I went there, and then I saw her. It was pretty horrible. But…”
My heart drops to my stomach, “Did you take her body?”
The thing starts to laugh, “Her body? Let me take you to her body.”
I feel anger with his laughter, desecrating her memory, but he does not seem to see it as he extends a claw for me to shake. I need him to lead me to her. “Please! Bring me to her.”
I still hear him laughing, mumbling to himself about ‘her body’ and promising to show it and that I want to do wrong things to her body. I know he just saw me… doing bad things, but I would not do anything to… the idea horrifies me. I don’t trust the metal skeleton that leads me through the pristine, light-yellow corridors, opening doors I could not pass before.
The corridors are getting wider, and the white walls are changing into stone that, when my fingers slide over it, feels like solid dust made into intricate geometric patterns. The temperature is warmer and less dry. The smell of the air is wonderful, new, fresh. We stand before a huge door, a tree among a path that leads to towers in the distance. It swings open without a creak, and the scent of flowers welcomes me.
My manhood strengthens again when I see a girl… a girl like the pretend Rani in the videos.
The unmistakable copper-haired girl has sex in front of my eyes. She lies with her belly on a huge cushion, and I see the thick lips of her secret glide over the dark penis of a large black man. His skin is soot, a blackness where all light disappears. Strange patterns of gold line his buttocks and back, and his glistening hardness moves with irregular motion into her. Something the girl loves as she squeaks in loving surprise when he replaces his rhythm for another.
Her moans are the same as in the vid, and I can hear that squelching sound. I am ashamed to have entered a room where this girl is doing something private. I avert my eyes.
The dark blue-plated skeleton shows me his metal-teeth grin, “Your body.”
Did he not understand me?
“No, I am looking for the one who fell, not the one from the moving paintings.” My eyes dart back to the scene when the girl's wails increase. My stomach tenses when my penis fills with lust. I have to do something about it before it will break. I turn away from them and unlace my suit to guide my dick into a better position.
The skeleton whispers, “You want to fuck her?”
“No!”
“Yes, you do,” his claw touches my shoulder, “And she wants you.”
“Why?” I forget we are whispering, and the black man looks over his shoulder. He doesn’t look surprised. A hand briefly lets go of the girl’s hip to wave at me but is placed back in a smooth motion. The girl is oblivious to anything happening around her. Maybe her moans drown out the sound she hears, or she just doesn’t care and feels like me when I am near that pleasure explosion where nothing can stop me anymore. The skeleton pushes me forward toward the girl and the man. Her copper hair is long enough to hide her face, but I know her face will show that expression of desire. She looks even smaller, like a younger version of the red-headed Rani in the pictures. I am a voyeur, a bad person intruding on something between two lovers. But still, my penis is hard as my desire can fill it. I want to. I want to feel how it is different from my hand. The idea of doing this with this girl, a Raneesha-like girl… I unlace my pants, push them down to my ankles, and go to my knees. I wait beside them as the black man keeps fucking her.
“This is how girls like it, movements that are not always predictable, touches that are made of wonder.”
His hand caresses her side, fingers raking over her spine. I understand what he is doing. His movement in her is constant but changing—A pattern that changes depth and speed, which is partly predictable but ever-changing. His movements are smooth and follow each other in an amazing succession.
I am jealous of his skills, but pay attention to how he is… fucking her. His fingers kneed her thin waist, pulling her back on his dark manhood. Ever-changing fluid movement. His fingers touch her scalp and make her react with a moaned ‘Yes,’ and she lifts her head. She has her eyes closed and an ecstatic smile on her lips. I don’t know if I want to join because she is so much like Raneesha or because I can’t control my desire. Her moans have synced with her breathing and increased in volume—the high squeaks of a young girl’s voice. I try to push away my thoughts of my sin and what it has caused the one I love.
She is this Rani from the ‘vids,’ or all girls go through the same before they orgasm. The man grabs her shoulder with one hand, the other still firm on her side. His movement is now constant, quick, deep pushes into her, to slowly pull back and leave just the head of his penis inside her.
Her shudders and moans make me aware of what she experiences. Her loud cries as she peaks send tickles over my skull, and I almost have my peak when I realize I am rubbing my manhood.
The black man leans backward, his penis glistening with the moisture I see between the girl’s parted lips. She sighs, the sound muffled by the pillow she buries her face in. Her breathing with small interruptions as her smaller peaks pleasure her body. Shudders that diminish in strength, and her content sighs become clearer. I see her little red asshole contract just like I feel mine when I peak.
“Air!” she yells.
The man holds two fingers up to me and pushes them inside her secret. I hear air whistling as it leaves her.
“Oh, by Rani, thanks. Did you cum?” the girl whispers in her pillow.
“Not yet, my highness. Would you like some more?” the black man says.
“Just a second, this was…pfff.”
We sit there for a minute. The girl’s sighs are getting less labored.
She throws her head backward, “Yes, please.”
The dark man moves away, his hands in a gesture to me… a gesture to take his place.
It is difficult to push my manhood down, filled to strength by my lust, her secret entrance too low to enter. The man pushes my knees more apart, and my height is now better. I touch one of her ass cheeks and feel her wonderful heat. The smooth skin is so different from mine. I feel her tremble, and she pushes backward to fuck a penis that is not there. She grunts a ‘Pwhlease’ that demands me to continue. Her small feet kick me playfully, and when she feels she hits my thighs, she pushes them against them, pulling me toward her. My penis touches her. The heat there is nothing compared to my hand. I am so afraid my inexperience will anger her, this girl from the vids who knows everything about something new to me. I push forward, feeling a wonderful resistance when my penis opens her. Exquisite warmth as I slide into her. It’s not only wet; it is as slippery as oil. I see movement next to me, the dark man’s golden eyes attracting my attention. He mimics a fucking movement, his hands around imaginary hips. I do as he does; my fingers grab the thin waistline of the girl, my thumbs on her back, and my fingers push into her stomach as I push deep inside her.
It is nothing compared to my hand. When I slide inside the confines of her secret, its walls pleasure the head of my penis as I have never experienced. It is so tight, and I am sure I need to be careful not to break it. It’s because of her oily liquids I can push inside.
Rani moans like she had done with the dark-skinned man, and I feel more certain about myself. Even though I had in the beginning problems and my gland, on several occasions, left her warmth. But now I think I have mastered it. I am still getting pointers on how and where to stroke her. A hand pushes between her pillow and chest to pinch her nipple. I feel no breasts, which is confusing me. She is as flat as Raneesha. I am sure the girl in the vid had the promise of womanhood.
I think about my lost Raneesha, to withhold my peak and continue pleasuring this girl, but it has the opposite effect, and in my mind, she becomes a life Raneesha.
I feel her when I pause, her heartbeat pulsing around my manhood, making it virtually impossible to relax and prolong my peak. I focus on the sight of her ass. I can’t stop it anymore, and I fuck into her with all my lust. It’s a surprise and relief when I feel the white stuff shoot through my canal. My dick twitches as I hold it deep inside her, filling her with my child-giving liquids. I lean over her, taking her into my arms and kissing her neck. She laughs, her hand reaching behind her and patting my ass.
“I feel it when you cum,” she giggles.
She pushes herself up, and my manhood slips out of her. She stops her caress and suddenly leaps forward onto the pillow as she turns around. Wide open eyes look at me, and I fear I am in trouble. Her gaze goes from me to the dark man to the skeleton near the door. Her bottom lip trembles and I think about what possible excuse I can give her, but nothing comes to mind.
“Johar?”
I see the tears in her eyes, eyes that I recognize. I don’t have time to react when she jumps forward and wraps her arms around me. Her tears drip on my chest, and the next moment, her fists hit me.
I scream when she hits my ribs. She stops and leans backward to look at me.
“Sorry, I… didn’t mean to hurt you.”
It is the Raneesha I know, the impulsive, crazy girl I could never fully understand.
“Did Rani save you?” I ask.
“No, Fringe did.” She points at the skeleton. The skeleton waves back at me.
Raneesha sees me eye the dark man, “That is Claymore… He is a teacher of sex. He was teaching me.” Her mouth quivers, “Are you… angry with me?”
My chest feels as if something is pushing it. I don’t feel anger, more… “I don’t know what to think.”
“See it as what you did,” Fringe says.
I turn my head to the skeleton, frowning. I don’t understand him.
He sounds angry when he says, “It’s green, and was in a tight spot? Claymore is a bit more complex, but the idea is the same.”
I puff my cheeks as I try to rationalize it. I was not that much better. I just fucked Raneesha when I thought she was this girl from the vids.
“I’m sorry!” I say out loud, but Fringe still looks at me with squinted eyes.
Raneesha stirs in my lap. “I’m sorry, Raneesha. I’m stupid… and in love with you.” Her embrace pains my chest, but I don’t care. I deserve all of it. I try to smile at Claymore, who spreads his arms and smiles. His penis has disappeared as if by magic. I don’t know how I ever saw him as a real man.
“Your difference in size gives some disadvantages. But if you…” Claymore pushes me on my back, “And Raneesha sits on you like this.”
He picks up the girl with ease and positions her on my belly. I recognize the position from the vid and help her move her legs next to me. Claymore places a pillow under my head.
“Many possibilities, eye contact makes this position preferable. You can see her reactions, and you can adjust your actions to her desires. She is in control of the penetration, and she has a better view of you and how you fuck into her.”
I see Raneesha nod, and I feel Claymore’s grab my penis. Her wetness quickly envelops my manhood, and I enjoy seeing her surprised smile. Raneesha in control is like a birdy caught in a net. She has problems keeping me inside as she feverishly moves up and down, but Claymore places my penis at her entrance every time it slips out. She learns to control her movement better in time, and her later mistakes are more because of her tiredness than inexperience. I am amazed at how long I can withstand it without this… cumming.
Raneesha’s eyes open wide, and she gasps.
“He… wiggles a finger in my… ass,” she says.
I strain to look up and see Claymore’s arm between her legs. “Do you like it?” I whisper.
I feel her pussy twitch, her head resting on my chest, and the vision of what I had seen before resurfaces. I feel the warm breath of her ‘Yhes’ on my chest. I want to tell her about what I had done before. I can’t hold back anymore, and my instinct takes over. I fuck into her, the girl I wanted to be with for so long. I cum again when I think of her bowels enjoying that finger, my finger… I spew my last bit of warm cum inside her. I can’t have much left after such a day.
“I will make her cum one more time. You just relax, Johar,” I hear the dark man say.
He wedges something between us where we are joined, something cool that quickly heats with our combined warmth. I feel it vibrate against me. It has a surprising effect on Raneesha, who starts to squirm and pant like mad. She bites me, her teeth sinking into my skin. She grunts, and her body shakes more violently than the pulse between us.
The vibration ends, and I enjoy the idea Raneesha just had another cum.
She lies panting on my chest; occasionally, she squeezes my dick with her pussy, and smiles at me. I love my little girl.
Lying here with her, heat radiates through my body. It’s pure happiness, I think. It’s a new feeling. Raneesha is more than her old… usual self, throwing the smaller pillows at me now and then.
A New Me
Having relayed the tales of Rani's valorous exploits, the Teller traversed the landscape, his voice resonating with the cadence of ancient chronicles. As he moved on from recounting Rani's deeds, the Teller's gaze turned towards new horizons, where untold adventures awaited discovery.
Claymore’s golden eyes watch me as I fumble with the chopsticks. I lift a piece of sushi and dip it in this brown sauce. I smile as I enjoy the taste, but he does not smile back.
“It’s something Johar told us. About your Teller, his name.”
“And?” I pick another one, but this time, my chopsticks scissors, and I drop it between my plate and my mouth.
“We would like to find him.” Claymore looks serious.
“He’s dead a long time ago. That was ages back. And why? To return his books?” I snort and finally get Claymore to laugh.
“That was not our thought, but when Johar said his name was Herbert the Teller and told us about the shrines near your level, we thought he was someone we knew. Someone we need.”
“But he is dead now,” I say.
I want to take another bite, but Claymore takes my hands. “He is like us; he will not have died if he is that someone. The thing is… The sun powering our home is having… a few problems and neither I nor Fringe knows how to repair it.”
“So how do we find him?”
“We need to take the route Johar took in his search for you and ask… your people what they know.”
“I can see my parents again? But Johar said the way is gone.”
“It will be dangerous, but we want you two to talk to your people. And… in the end, I want you to talk to Herbert. We didn’t part as friends, and he would kill Fringe on sight.”
“Why does he want to kill Fringe?”
“Herbert worshipped Rainey, and he thinks Fringe didn’t try hard enough to keep her from her suicide.”
“Why will he listen to me?” I ask.
“I am pretty sure you will have some persuasion power. You and her look like two peas in a pod.”
I have a new suit that fits me, the girl shape I want. It’s still flat as a boy, but not with that crazy bulge between my legs—and black as Claymore, which looks absolutely crazy with my fire hair. The four of us are standing at the bottom of the shaft, ready for our journey upward. I feel nervous, happy, and also a bit scared.