Category: Sci-Fi & Fantasy Stories

A Goddess's Tail

by OX2©

It'd been almost a week since my weird encounter in the woods and I'd churned the event around in my head enough to turn it into curiosity. I made a decision to stop by the Library after work and see what they had on witch craft, arcana and other just plain weird rituals.

I walked in the door, the setting sun throwing my shadow before me. It wasn't very crowded. Overhead florescence lights lit the evenly spaced book cases. There was a very modern feel to this place. And then...something else that twitched at my gut. There was a child's reading area over in the corner to my left with a few toddlers being read to by a matronly old woman, all of them sitting on a multi colored carpet. A few high school kids sitting at the long grey metallic and Formica tables. Sound was deadened by ceiling tiles. The library had that sterile, clinical smell they all share, sorta musty but devoid of real scent.

I avoided the big wooden counter that hid all but the tops of the librarian staff's heads. After ten minutes of wandering aisles I knew I needed some help.

I walked back to the counter. There was only one person behind the counter. She was engrossed in a computer screen. This gave me a chance to look her over. Long tawny hair the color of straw with lighter highlights. A thick, luscious mane that trailed down over her shoulders. She had a round face and a cupid bow mouth. Her bra and blouse were doing yeoman's work constraining her large breasts. Full and round. The top two buttons were showing the strain. She did expose a very nice bit of cleavage. Very professional, not over done or trashy, just enough to pique a man's interest.

She clicked with her mouse then looked up at me. Her deep blue eyes met mine. For a brief second there was an almost electric jolt and a vague niggling in my brain that I knew this woman. She looked at me with somewhat of a question, as if she had the feeling too. Maybe we'd met before at a party of something. A name tag hung for its dear life from her left boob, suddenly a nipple gave it a leg up, a thick shelf to rest itself upon. She cleared her throat," May I help you?" she said. There was a lot she could help with at this time, like the sudden swelling in my dark blue cargo shorts. I got my shit together though and said," I'm looking for information on the occult."

"I bet you are." She said leaning over the desk behind the counter resting her sizeable tits and now comfortable and safe name tag that read "Morana" on the desk top. The name struck a memory but I couldn't quite place it. She had a look about her...a cat suddenly seeing a brave little rat, something interesting to play with. I was getting a little nervous. Her bright smile settled me down as she pushed back in her chair and stood up. She wasn't tall, about five four. Wide at the hips and round at the ass. Her knee length black skirt accentuated both. She beckoned me to follow with a manicured finger. The polish on it the same dark red that stained her lips.

There was a gentle tug at my middle, like a leash attached to my hips. I followed her through canyons of books, some shelves far apart others so close my shoulder brushed them. We wound around and through several passages. I was almost disoriented, the hypnotic movement of Morana's waist and perfect glutes didn't help. She must work out, and do a lot of squats I thought to myself. I found myself getting a little chubby as I followed her.

I knew that this place couldn't be this big. We went down a few steps then turned and down a flight in a well-lit stairwell "I didn't know this place was this big" I mumbled to myself.

"Oh, it is a lot bigger than a lot of people think." She waved a dismissive hand that felt as if it was brushing my chest even though she was several feet in front of me.

She stopped in front of a door and pulled a card from her waistband and pressed it against a monitor, a buzz then a click and she threw her shoulder into it pushing open the obviously heavy door. She smiled again, like the cat just before it pounces. The lights came on without hitting a switch, must have been a motion sensor in here. Morana strode to the center of the room, standing beside a square grey table. It had the same white top and stamped metal legs as the ones upstairs. She turned in a swift motion throwing her hands wide over her head. She slammed me with that brilliant smile declaring "This is our most secure room of the occult."

I looked at shelves from floor to ceiling with leather bound, cloth bound and some paperback books. I even saw a row of shelves holding scrolls. There were about ten rows in all. We stood in the middle, five to our right five to the left and a row on the back wall. There was an acrid smell to the room. Leather and beeswax in a musty mix with an almost damp, mildew smell. I looked for a dehumidifier. She pulled out a chain and with a slightly strained smile told me "Sit." Again, the jerk from my waist drew me to the wooden chair. It was stained dark with a paisley cushion.

Morana, leaned over me, her face an inch from my face. Her sapphire eyes glittering. I could smell her, it was a tantalizing mix of musk and green trees. With a trace of hickory smoke. She had a heat to her as she brushed my forehead with a warm hand. It was like spider webs being brushed from my eyes.

And there I was, not a room but a cavern, roughhewn statues only recognizable as women because of the exaggerated breasts, they were faceless and looked more like snowmen than art. They stood in double rank, at the head a male form, his phallic piece as long as his arm and thick as a thigh. I was getting up and ready to run when Morana, laughed and with a wave slammed me back into my seat.

"I knew it was you, I could smell those Celt daemons on you as you walked in."

Oh for fucks sake, here we go again.

"They thought they could gain an edge using one of their puny witches to suck your seed? We'll see about that. Tonight little man, and I don't know why they chose you, you will spill your seed into me and we will make a new, more powerful god than those wee Celts."

She lit a brazier and threw in some stuff to make it smoke and flash.

"Do you know who I am?" she said as she gently ran her hands through my short hair. It came together in a flash as I looked into her eyes. Morana, Slavic goddess of death. She was often described as a demon and my old Czech grandmother would tell me she was the bringer of night mares and the cold winter. Awe shit.

Well, I was truly fucked. Now I was just waiting to see what happened next. To tell the truth I was somewhere between terrified and tantalized.

Her hand was warm as she reached behind my neck to mash my head into an extremely passionate kiss. Her lips were soft. Her tongue danced with mine and I found myself responding, all fear gone, just animal lust surging to the fore.

We were tearing at each others clothes. I pushed her against the stone alter that the desk had become. She leaned against it, her back to me, her bare feet flat on the floor, her hands bracing on the alter stone. She was slightly shorter than I was so I bent my legs to enter her. "Take me, now, fuck me!" Morana demanded. She was so slippery it was like sliding my cock into hot melted butter. I slid in with an uncontrolled fury so hard that I lifted her heels off the floor. Lifting her hips and heels with every thrust, she was impaled by my thick cock deep inside of her.

After several of these thrusts she bent over, laying on top of the alter stone, her huge tits flattening against it, taking thrust after thrust, pushing back as hard as I gave, screaming encouragement and ordering me not to stop. She gasped and grunted as I put my full force behind each thrust. She was licking one nipple, her other hand cutting furrows in the stone with her nails. I could feel ghostly hands patting and rubbing my body, barely whispers in my ears encouraged, flattered and cajoled me just out of the range of my hearing. It was like the tingle of voices in your head. As I fucked her with intensity, froth and spittle, flew from my lips as did grunts and gasps. I looked down. That was NOT my dick!! Yes it was attached to my pelvis, but it was two or three times thicker than I was. More shockingly, it was the same color as the stone statues. Yet I could feel every inch of Morana stretching to accept it. Through the sweat and haze I looked up and I swear to God, if stone could smirk, the male statue was.

Her cries and moans were closer together and higher pitched. I drove on her harder, sweat dripping from me as I watched her writhe under me. She pushed back just as hard, and there was a wet smacking bruising sound of violent flesh on flesh as my hips and her ass collided. .

"Now, NOWNOW NOW!!" she screeched, pushing back from the flat stone and shoving herself along my entire length. Her pussy locked my manhood in a fierce grip and flashed with a searing heat. She held me there, immobilized inside her, a phantom finger, as real as any proctologists, smashed into my rectum and crushed down on my prostate, blasting every ounce of sperm down my cock and into her searing pussy. It Splashed her walls and filled the whole of her but she was so hot it felt like it was boiling my cum. I heard a loud long tortured scream of pain mixed with release and realized it was coming from my own throat. Her juices, like hot honey coated her inner thighs and dripped down my balls. This was way more intense than with the other witch.

After a few sobbing breaths both from her and myself she relaxed her death grip and her pussy spit me out. I expected to see carnage where my dick and balls were. They were intact, a little red but no blisters. They were also my own. I remembered too late that every spring effigies of Morana were burned from Poland, Czech, Slovakia and across Russia. That explained a lot.

Morana pulled herself up on the alter, still laying on her belly, her pussy starting to ooze my cum. She was panting, and catching her breath. She mumbled something to the rank of statues, and in the shadows they almost seemed alive.

"What do you think?" She directed the question back at the statues not me. There was a murmur like a brook running over stones and a crackle like fire mixed. She cocked her head to listen. Morana nodded closing her eyes and hanging her head in exhaustion. Sweat matted her dark blonde hair. She rolled to her back and spread her legs, lifting them to the ceiling. Her pendulous breasts fell to the sides of her chest. She grabbed them, pushing them together, rolling her dark nipples between her fingers.

I just stood there, sweat dripping down my heaving flanks and belly. Spent. Not very amused at being used by not one but two deities or whatever. I looked down and there was the glowing sigil that the other witch had left on my belly. Pearly in its luminance.

"Now I see why they used you." Morgana said to the ceiling and, I guess, me. "You were strong enough to take all of that."

She rolled to her side bending one leg up, propping her head on her hand. "Come here." I staggered over to the edge of the stone. She reached between her legs and gathered a clot of our gooey mix on two fingers. She traced two symbols, one over each of my nipples. Smearing them through my chest hairs and burning them on to my skin. I flinched from a touch as cold as frost and leapt back. Morana fell back with a hearty laugh.

"Little man, you don't appreciate the protection from fire and water that I give you?" She looked more amused than anything else. She closed her eyes and again addressed the statues. "Soon, I will deliver this child to you and it will be a rival for those damn Celtic cousins of ours."

She pushed herself off of the stone and retrieved a robe from a small cabinet against a wall. She walked over to me, fastening me in place with her sapphire eyes. She pulled me tight in a passionate embrace, I could feel her hot naked skin all along mine welding her to me. She breathed warm, soft breath into my ear, reminding me of a sunny spring day "Thank you for your Time, I'm sure you have better things to do today."

I was in the drive thru at McDonalds on Skibo road when it occurred to me that I didn't remember driving here. Must have just been one of those days when you're so tired after a long day at work that you move along on auto pilot. I paid for my meal and went home. I did notice it was warmer and had to crank the AC up to max.

Written by: OX2

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Story Tags: librarian, sci-fi

Category: Sci-Fi & Fantasy Stories