Grapeshot Pantheon

by Dragon Cobolt

  Liam surged forwards. This time, he struck true. His cock slammed into her sex and Mary’s whole body rocked as she opened her mouth wide. She didn’t even make a noise. She just looked like she had forgotten how he had felt.

  Liam had been with literal demigoddesses but Mary still managed to blow most women he had been with out of the water. Lilin were built from their toes to their horns for fucking, and Mary proved this, despite being literally the only other Christian that Liam knew personally on Purgatory. Her eyes, unfocused and blissed out, looked over his shoulder, her mouth only closing slowly. Liam realized he wouldn’t last long, not with the way that Mary’s pussy was fluttering around his cock.

  Liam grinned.

  He didn’t need to last long. His hips drove into hers and his balls slapped her ass as Mary cried out in utter bliss. “Yes! Fuck! God yes! In Mary’s name, fill me with your cum! Fuck me! Ah!” She bit down on his shoulder to try and muffle her screams before the rest of the palace could hear her. That was enough to send Liam utterly over the edge. His hips and hers pressed together with one more wet slap and his balls clenched as he spurted into her.

  Cum dripped onto the floor with a soft, wet, pattering noise.

  Mary and Liam both panted, looking at one another.

  “I did not,” Liam said between gasps. “Know how, ah, much I needed that. Thanks Mary.”

  She smiled, her voice sounding slightly slurred. “Szz okay. Didn’t know, ah, how much I needed that.” Her legs remained fastened around Liam’s back.

  Liam smiled, letting his member slowly soften inside of her sex.

  Once they could both say two words without having to pause to breathe between them, Liam finally asked: “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Huh?” Mary looked up from where she had been peering. She looked like she was trying to take in just how much damage her ass and her arousal had done to Liam’s paperwork. Liam was pretty happy with leaving that as Future Liam’s problem.

  “What did you want to talk to me about before you seduced me? Me? A married man! The Free-Lord of Babylon!” Liam exclaimed. “And you, the Hierophant of Babylon and leader of the Followers of Mary. The scandal!”

  Mary’s tail slapped his ass.

  Liam laughed.

  “And that was just the thing,” she said, nodding. “I, ahhh!” She crooned as Liam slowly pulled out of her sex, his cock escaping from her sex with a quiet pop. Mary closed her eyes, then grinned. “You’re up for election.”

  Liam blinked at her. “I what?”

  “It is in the constitution,” she said, smiling. “The one you helped to write.”

  Liam grinned. “Yeah. I guess it is?” His brow furrowed. The yearly election had been a compromise between several dozen factions, and he hadn’t minded it. The first election had been an emergency selection to give him power while Borin the Black had threatened the city. The next election had been a landslide victory for him during the War of the False God. This one was likely going the same way – another year of being the leader of the most powerful polity on Purgatory.

  So why was he feeling more dread than excitement?

  Mary drew her legs up underneath her, her head lifting up. Somehow, she managed to transform from panting, desperately eager sex-goddess to one of his best aides in the political theater within seconds. And she hadn’t even needed to get dressed.

  “And I’m running against you,” she said.

  Liam sat down in shock.

  Since his chair had gone skittering away during their fucking, he ended up sprawled on the ground, giving Mary even more height over him.

  Liam bit back the first three responses – what and what the fuck and excuse me all sounded pretty fucking stupid - and instead went right to the best question: “Why?”

  Mary’s tail flipped daintily. “Where to even start? You have, finally, after years of being on Purgatory, a chance to go home. But instead of going to see your family or your friends, you shook hands with the President, handed over the science team and the surviving military people, including Simone – and I know that you already miss her – and then came back.”

  “Ares is still a threat!” Liam exclaimed.

  “And more,” Mary said, frowning. “You haven’t seen your children in weeks. And for months before that, you only saw them every few days.” She shook her head slightly, her tail twitching again. “Liam Vanderbilt, Babylon has never been stronger and never been more secure. And, to be brutally honest...” She leaned forward. “Babylon doesn’t need you in this role.”

  Liam gawped at her.

  He tried to not feel hurt. It didn’t work. Mary’s eyes softened and she cupped his cheek. “Liam, you were a fantastic leader. You inspired people and you gave them heart in the face of mad gods and crushing defeat. You secured victory and snatched triumph from the jaws of defeat. But...” She bit her lip, hooking one of her fangs over her lip, her eyes flicking aside. “You’re not exactly an administrator. Usually, you find people who know what they’re doing and give them their head. That’s fantastic. But it’s not an irreplaceable skill.”

  Liam took his hurt feelings and set them aside and tried to look at what she said logically. And…

  She was right.

  “W-What will I do?” Liam asked. “Well. Beyond run against you.” He grinned slightly. “I could totally whip you in an election.”

  “Likely,” Mary said, shrugging. “But then again, I’ve been spending the last year and change making friends, shaking hands, kissing babies, and demonstrating my even handedness.” Her fangs glittered with a predatory light as she leaned forward, her breasts squishing between her elbows as her hands pressed to her knees. “So it’d be a hard fight, Mr. Vanderbilt.”

  Liam was hard again.

  “Or, alternatively,” Mary said. “You can quietly step down and once I’m elected, I can use the skill you have that Purgatory, all of Purgatory, desperately needs.”

  “If you say my dick-” Liam said, noting where Mary’s eyes had drifted.

  “You’re the only Earther we have!” Mary exclaimed, blushing darkly. “You know Earther culture and Earther law. You can be our diplomat.”

  Liam grinned. “Ambassador Vanderbilt. I like the sound of that.” He rubbed his chin.

  “And,” Mary said, puffing up her chest with a smug pride. “You can bring Meg, Fizit, Liv and your kids and take them to your mom!”

  Liam blinked at her.

  Mary giggled, which set her tits jiggling. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  “Holy shit yes!” The door exploded open and Meg sprang in. Her fingers still glistened with her juices. “Say yes, Liam! Oh! And you can knock me up on Earth! In your house!”

  Liam looked at Meg’s excited face, then down at the skimpy breastband that swept across her chest, barely containing her perfect breasts. His eyes flicked to Mary – still naked and glittering and dripping with his cum. He imagined Fizit, who regularly barely fit into her shift and had a tendency to use her tail to drag Liam into bed. He pictured showing up at his Mom’s front door, carrying a child that was half-lizard and another that was half elf-half half-lizard and also the daughter of someone who had almost killed him.

  Liam whimpered.

  ***

  Ensign Donker knew that this assignment had gone from boring to interesting the instant he stepped up to the apartment door and saw that the lock had been kicked in. Hells. The door had practically been hit by a battering ram. It had rebounded and now hung mostly closed, leaving a thin slit of visible room beyond. Donker frowned and pushed the door gently open, leaning into the apartment and out of the brilliant noonday sun of Faiyum Falls. The air outside was, as befitted a city nestled right up against one of the biggest jungles in Purgatory, sticky and thick. Donker was used to it, he had been born in Faiyum Falls, and his parents had migrated to Babylon when he had been sixteen. It had only taken two years for him to fall madly in love with his new home and yet, he had always remembered Faiyum Falls
and the lands around it fondly.

  This made his posting to the Timber a rather nice, cushy sort of position. The newly up-gunned steam-ship had started life as a standard galley before a hastily modified engine and paddle wheel had been strapped to her back. It was a pathetic ship, really, compared to the triple decked galleons and primitive ironclads that prowled the Platonic Sea these days. But the Timber wasn’t in Faiyum Falls for anything more intense than pirate hunting.

  Which makes this assignment all the more, ah, unusual, he thought as he looked about the apartment. But Captain Chaser had picked him, of all the ensigns and middies aboard the ship. He stood slightly straighter, then frowned as he started to take note of what was in the apartment itself. There was definite signs of a struggle. The table in the center of the room had been knocked over, a tapestry had been torn from the walls, several bits of crockery were smashed. Even an amphora of olive oil had been tipped over, though the amphora’s thick construction had kept it mostly intact.

  What was more? He could hear whimpering coming from upstairs.

  Donkor reached to his belt and pulled his pistol. The flintlock wasn’t loaded – this was a relatively safe town. Sobek was a hard god, and his guards didn’t often give criminals second chances to make trouble. But Donkor had read enough newspapers and novels and heard enough stories about the kinds of things that went on when one got into the orbit of Liam Vanderbilt and his friends. He quickly tamped down the gunpowder, loaded the shot, then cocked back the hammer before he started up the stairs. He moved softly up the stairs – and as he moved up, the whimpering noise he had heard in the first floor resolved.

  Without a doubt, that was a woman with a gag. In considerable pain, if Donkor didn’t miss his guess. He clutched his pistol in both hands, the humid heat seeming to grow more and more intense with every step he took towards the half-opened door at the end of the corridor. More signs of disarray were marked here. Tattered bits of clothing. A leather strap? There, a sword, still in its scabbard. It lay across the corridor, as if it had been struck from someone’s belt before they could even draw it.

  Donkor stepped up to the doorway. He nudged it open with his toe and heard the wet smack of a palm against someone’s cheek, and a quiet snarling voice: “Yeah, come on bitch, squirm.”

  Donkor kicked the door in and snapped his pistol up. “Babylonian Navy, hands uuuuuuuuhhhhhh.”

  The two goblins in the room were, without a doubt, the goblins he had been sent to collect. The more slender one – Quinn – was tied to the bed with a pair of leather straps. Her green thighs were spread wide, and her mouth was stoppered up by a gag of red painted leather. Her eyes were wide and her hair, a luminous white, spilled around her shoulders and tangled up underneath her. The other goblin, Kailee, was the one who had been smacking Quinn, leaving bright, shining red marks on emerald green skin. Those marks were soon eclipsed by the vast tracts of blush that exploded across Quinn as she squirmed. Kailee remained perfectly still – caught between thrusts – and Donkor could see that she was wearing a wooden member as smooth and well polished as anything that Donkor had seen for sale on the dockside stores that female sailors frequented.

  Kailee’s eyes slowly narrowed. The bird feathers that seemed to be a natural part of her mane of black hair ruffled upwards. A faint, ozone like scent filled the air. It reminded Donkor of the one time he had been at a war-game where the Timber had been lucky enough to have a mage aboard.

  “I, uh... I should go,” Donkor said, lowering his pistol slowly.

  He closed the door moments before the hurled mage-lamp smashed into it.

  Five minutes and one panicked gunshot into the ceiling later, Ensign Donker was trussed up like a spring lamb and hanging upside down above a rather alarming number of throwing javelins. They were military issue, back before the revolutions that had changed Purgatorian conflict from shields and spears to gunpowder and cannon. That meant they were pointed at both ends, allowing them to be thrust into the floor and provide a rather horrifyingly spiky end to any sudden drops.

  The fact that Kailee had slammed them into the stone floor of her apartment with a single thrust of her arm was just another thing that made Donkor sweat.

  “So!” Kailee said. “Here we are, enjoying our retirement!”

  “Kailee,” Quinn said, looking a bit uncertain.

  “And here you come, bursting into our house!” Kailee snarled, grabbing onto Donkor’s tunic. She dragged him forward, then let him swing backwards. This ended up almost grazing his face against the javelin points. Donkor hissed and tried to shrink upwards. “The door was locked!”

  “No, it wasn’t!” Donkor tried to sound tough and military. Instead, his voice broke and he wriggled desperately. “Look! See! See?”

  Quinn looked off. “Uh, Kailee?”

  Kailee snorted. “Who sent you?” She frowned. “Which Babylonian puke did you skin for this uniform? Was it Ares?” She snarled. “Oh, if it was that prick Manannan Mac Lir?”

  “Kailee?” Quinn asked.

  “Who?” Donkor asked.

  “It was!” Kaliee pulled out a javelin with one hand. Stone ground and crunched and powdered flecks slapped against Donkor’s face, sticking to his sweaty skin. She twirled the javelin so that the edge that hadn’t been wrecked by the stone faced Donkor’s nose, then prodded it up against his skin, setting him to wobbling slightly. “Can you tell him that, for the last time, Mom’s never going to admit that-”

  “Kailee!” Quinn shouted.

  Kailee turned around, the javelin point dipping.

  “The door!” Quinn said, gesturing to the doorway. “Remember? Y-You didn’t, uh, want to stop kissing me. So, you... kicked it.”

  Kailee’s brow furrowed. She looked at the door. Then she looked at the table she had walked through rather than changing course, the several plates she had shattered as she swung Quinn about, then up the stairs. She cocked her head, slowly.

  “Okay,” she said. “Why are you here, Ensign Donkor?”

  “The Admiralty wants to hire you!” Donkor said, quickly. His vision felt as if it was going gray. His head pounded. But he didn’t care, he was going to live!

  “Oh?” Kaliee asked.

  “Yes! Captain Chaser wants to speak to you on his ship, the Timber! Just cut me down and I can take you there!” Donkor said, quickly.

  “All right,” Kailee said, shrugging as she slashed with the sharp edge of the javelin. Donkor screamed out.

  Once.

  ***

  Captain Chaser frowned as he looked across the table at the two goblinesses. Quinn looked appropriately apologetic. Kailee just looked skeptical. She had spent the entire trip from the gangway to his cabin glaring at everything on the Timber as if the hodgepodged ship offended her on a deep, personal level. On the one hand, Chaser couldn’t blame her. She had captained The Morrigan’s Kiss in two of the most important naval engagements in Purgatory’s history, crippling four ships with cannon-fire, boarding another two, and sending the entire Monodeist fleet packing.

  On the other hand, the Timber was his ship. He loved every single poorly designed bolt on her.

  “So, what’s the deal?” Kailee asked.

  “Before we go on, I want to ask how and why my most promising ensign arrived with several fresh holes in his face,” Chaser said, his wings mantling slightly as he rolled his shoulders.

  Kailee shrugged. “Quinn fixed 'em.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question, Miss Kailee,” Chaser said, adding a severe frown to the mantling.

  Quinn squeaked out a quick: “It was an accident! He, uh, fell onto some javelins. That we had set up. For practice. Uh. In the living room...” She trailed off into silence.

  “I see,” Chaser said, slowly. “Well, as Ensign Donkor was healed quite effectively by you, Miss Quinn, I’m willing to overlook this. Admiral Cochrane wishes to grant a commission to you and your...”

  Kailee frowned. Considering the amount of power at the demigoddess’ disposal
, Chaser picked his next words extremely carefully.

  “...life partner,” he said, which brought a surprised snort from Kaliee and a thoughtful smile from Quinn.

  “A commission?” Kailee asked, grinning despite herself. “Uh, what for? Vanderbilt paid us enough in gold to last us our entire lives. And we plan to live a long ass time now that we’re out of the pirate trade.” She shrugged. “What could you possibly begin to offer us that would even begin to slightly tempt me back?”

  Despite her words, Chaser could see Quinn looking deeply nervous. And so, he brought out his secret weapon. It was a small envelope, sealed with magic and warded with every clever trick that Spymaster Fizit could slap onto it. The idea was that if anyone but Chaser, Quinn or Kailee looked at it, the papers would combust. Rather dramatically too. In fact, it was such a dramatic combustion that Chaser had quietly stowed his flintlock pistols as far away from the desk as he could manage without breaking regulations about officers being armed while on duty. Popping the magical seal with his thumb, Chaser tensed and then breathed a sigh of relief.

  He slid the paper across the desk and both Quinn and Kailee leaned over. They looked at the paper.

  “Holy gods,” Quinn whispered. She picked up the papers, rifling through them so quickly that Kailee had to squirm and paw at her to try and get her eyes on. She leaned forward, nudging against Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn ignored her – her eyes were shining with excitement. “But I... that’s... oh that’s clever. Oh that’s very clever.”

  “The Admiral thought that would pique your interest,” Chaser said, cheerfully.

  Kailee finally managed to get her finger on the paper. She pinned it to the desk and leaned forward to read. Quinn was now the one who squirmed and pawed at her lover to try and get at the papers. Kailee started to laugh as she finished off the first page. “Well!” she said. “I’m convinced. But what the fuck is this?”

  She pointed at the one part of the page that used English lettering, rather than Hellenic text.

  “That’s the ship’s name,” Chaser said. “Chosen by the Admiral himself.”