Medusa: Fate's Game Ch. 02

"I can't move the length of me with a jump or hop. Anyone with a sword has an advantage."

"If you let them engage like that, yeah. You'll have to kill them first to prevent that scenario."

"I...." She lowered her stick sword and looked down at the water beside her. He said the word 'kill' like it was weightless. "Do... I have to?"

He blinked at her. "Have to what?"

"Kill them first?"

"If you don't want them to kill you."

She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. Darian was the first one she had ever seen, ever, who didn't want her dead. It was a fool's hope to think others might do the same. And if she was going to come on this journey, she would be the one drawing people's ire.

But drawing the ire of people was better than letting Darian run off on some insane quest without her aid. Maybe.

"Are you still squeamish about it?" Darian said.

"About killing? Of course!" With a frustrated groan, she threw the stick into the water and turned her back to the man. The whole conversation was turning sour, and she slithered off toward the temple stairway.

Darian jogged after her. "But you've killed many."

"Always in self defense! And always after I asked them to leave."

Slithering up the stairway was never a fun experience. There were still many dead, worn with a century but still standing and taunting her with their horrified faces. Athena's curse had turned everyone on the island to stone when it happened, and that she did not blame on herself. It was the few warriors on the stairway that she felt guilty for, sorrowful for. Warriors that had come to the island, and she had killed herself.

She was careful not to touch any of the dead statues she slithered past, new or old. "I don't like fighting." I don't like hearing people's final gasps.

"Then are you sure you want to come with me?" He got out in front of her on the stairway and blocked her path with arms out to his sides. "I'm going to be fighting people. It always happens when I work with the Fates, and it's always worse than I can predict."

"I am sure. It's just... must we default to violence?"

"I don't think—"

"I'm not saying we won't fight, and I'm not saying I won't kill. It's just... can we try and avoid it first?"

Darian winced, looked to the ground, and leaned his weight onto the stick in his hand. "You think I'll just kill anyone we run across?"

"No! No, no I...." She lowered her torso until it was eye to eye with Darian, and she reached out to put a hand on his chest. "Please, I meant no offense. I just... when you saved me, that night we met, you were... very brutal."

"That was—"

"I know. And I do not regret that it happened, just... I think people would surprise you, if you showed a little mercy."

He winced again, when she said mercy, like it were salt in a wound.

"I...." He shook his head, took a deep breath, and took her hand into his. "Alright. I'll try. I hope you're there to remind me?"

She almost glowed with his response. "I will!"

"And if push comes to shove, can I remind you that sometimes, violence is the only answer?" With that, Darian pointed at one of the statues on the stairway, a warrior.

While the other statues on the stairway were running from the temple, a few warriors upon it were heading up to the temple. The one Darian motioned to was worn with time, like the others near it. Battles from long ago, when Medusa had been caught unawares and was forced to defend herself outside the temple, on the stairway. Despite how weather had smoothed many of the sharp edges on the dead man, the look of hate and anger on his face was unmistakable.

"... you can." She leaned forward onto Darian, and put her forehead against his.

Darian sighed like an annoyed parent, but relented, and nudged his forehead to hers. Her snake hair, a bit distraught and weak from the sun, slithered out to rest along his shoulders and hair. Darian rolled his eyes, but when one of the little critters drifted around his cheek and along his jawline, he turned his head just enough to give it a small kiss.

How quickly the two of them had grown so comfortable with each other. Not even a full day since she had first pulled him to her bed -- pile of blankets -- and already they were holding each other like some sort of silly young girl's fantasy. She tried not to let it go to her head, but the handsome, lean little man before her was just so delicious, and beautiful, and warm.

So she returned his kiss, with her lips and not those of her snake hair, and rubbed her thumb along his knuckles.

"Ok, if I can't use a sssword and shield, what do you ssssssuggest?" she said.

"If they're close enough? Use the stone sight Athena gave you."

It was her turn to wince again. "And if that isn't an option? Perhaps you are nearby and it'd put you at risk?"

"You still have your transformation. I saw what you did to that boar."

She frowned and pulled away a few feet. "Use the... that thing?"

He nodded, and when she tried to pull further away, he didn't let go of her hand. "Last resort! Honest. And besides, I think I have a better idea. Have you ever used a bow?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Digging through the dead for their things a second time put Medusa in a foul mood. She hated touching the dead, and that included the statues; rooting through their things was far worse. But it was a necessary evil, and when you're trapped on an island, you make do with what you have.

The two of them had moved back up to her little home behind the temple, and this time instead of sticks and shields, Darian had found a bow for her, with a quiver and arrows.

And they fired it for two hours. When the arrows became useless, Darian routed through the dead warriors to find more. One of the large trees nearby was riddled with scratches and holes by the end of the grueling session.

"My arms are tired," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm pushing you way too hard." Darian walked over to the tree and retrieved several more arrows. "We can stop, do a bit tomorrow, and every day. You are a very good shot though."

"Thank you." She beamed with pride. A sword or spear were such visceral and brutal things, but a bow and arrow had a certain elegance that she preferred. Maybe she just liked being far away from the violence? But she had to admit, lining up the shot and hitting the target, even a tree, was immensely satisfying. And she was good at it, she could tell each time Darian's mouth opened she landed an arrow. Again, and again, and again.

"Must be a snake's aim," he said, and walked up to her with the arrows.

She handed him the bow and quiver, and stretched out her arms, complete with a blissful sigh of release from the tension in her muscles. "Maybe. I am much preferring the bow. I can use it from positions others cannot as well, high and low." She raised her torso ten feet into the air, and then to the ground to demonstrate. "But...."

"But?" He walked into their little home, bow in hand.

"My breasts prevent me from aligning things as simply as you would. I have to hold the bow away for a couple inches." Being buxom was nothing more than a pain.

Darian reemerged from the home, laughing in that soft way he did when he teased her. She wanted to give him a bruise or two for teasing her then, but at the same time, she loved the sound of his voice when it was warm.

"The Amazons are rumored to cut off one of their breasts to deal with that, but it's nonsense. They do wear clothing that keeps their breasts tighter to their bodies though." He walked, almost skipped up to her, and pointed up -- she was hovering a few feet higher than him -- at her breasts. "Those wraps you love. I know they're soft and feel nice on the skin, but maybe you could tie another one underneath around your bust, nice and tight?"

Medusa groaned. "A breast bind? I guess. It sounds uncomfortable. Will I need to wear it all the time?"

"Only when we're moving."

More groans.

Darian reached up, took one of her hands, and pulled her down to him. "If it's any consolation, I'd be much happier if you kept them out too."

Medusa brought her hands up to her cheeks and shook her head side to side when the blushing started. "Darian!"

Just when she thought the man was going to take her into their little home, he let go of her hand. She opened her eyes to find Darian was squirming a little, and looking to the side. She tried to read his expression, but all she could tell was that he was conflicted. Her snake hair pointed down at where their fingers had been touching earlier, and how empty it felt now without his hand in hers.

"Sorry," he said, "always thinking with my dick."

Again, the man was apologizing for his sexual behavior. Why? Last night had been amazing! Just the thought of it, of him inside her, her folds spread around him, it all sent tingles from her fingertips, up into her chest and down through her snake length. And he'd said she was a seductive woman, that he'd really enjoyed it, and... and all the things that should make him want to do it again. Why did he stop?

She reached out and took his hand back. To her relief, his eyes drifted back to hers, and his smile returned.

And when she started to pull him back to the pile of blankets, his smile brightened. That smile, a beautiful thing on his trimmed beard and youthful face, must have contained some strong desires. The closer they got to the blankets, the more joyful and excited he appeared. And once he was standing in the middle of her bed, his eyes looked like they would explode with passion. Even his fingers in her hand were buzzing, and his other hand fidgeted with his tunic at his side.

He looked so happy, but refused to touch her? He... oh. Oh! The man would not touch her because of how last night had gone. She had asked him to hold still for her, for her to be the one in control. The man looked like he wanted to ravage her, but still he kept himself under control. For her.

She smiled, released his hand, and lowered both of hers to his waist. With slow hands, she undid the belt of his chiton garb, so that the loose and flowing white of the fabric hung free. Then she reached for his shoulders, undid the buttons upon its shoulders, and let the garment fall.

Darian didn't move an inch. He smiled at her, warm, delighted, and watched her working hands. When she placed her hands on his chest though, he made a tiny sound as he inhaled sharply, and looked down to her fingers. She kneaded the hard muscle of his body, and slid her hands down further, teasing the indentations of his musculature down his sides, his abs, the Apollo's belt of his hips, and where it disappeared into his loincloth. Licking her lips, she slid her hands into those as well, slipped her fingers behind him, and kneaded her fingers into the hardness of the warrior's ass.

And still he did not move. With how close she had to be to reach behind him, her face was only inches from his, and she grinned like a young girl again when Darian's breath quickened. Her heart was getting faster, and her body was starting to shiver with its own anticipation. How many times had she cum on the man she was currently undressing, last night? Three, four times? The blur of memories already had her body growing hotter, and she could feel her nipples harden under the wrap she wore.

When she finally sneaked her hands behind him and found the loop of his loincloth, she felt her cheeks turn red and her breath stop while she slowly undid the knot. The fabric fell free, and Darian was left to stand in the nude. Still he did not move.

She backed away a little, and looked at him, his array of lean muscles, and the perfect definition that almost seemed a little out of place on his smaller frame. Not a bulky man, but a slim and powerful one. She remembered some of the massive warriors that had come for her, tall and broad and brimming with bulging muscles; Darian was not that. If they were a bull, Darian was the fox.

He was certainly a confident fox! He smiled at her, that deliciously confident but also warm and gentle smile. Basking in her gaze, no doubt, by the way he almost posed for her.

And as she watched him, her body shivering with growing desire, she stared down at his member, growing longer and taller as Darian's arousal grew right along with hers.

"I have not even touched it," she said, "and you're already hard."

Darian grinned, but she could see a hint of embarrassment when he looked down. "Well you keep staring at me. I can't help it."

Her eyes were enough to bring the man to arousal? She hugged herself and giggled a little, but also slipped her hands higher, up behind her neck to find the knot of her wrap, and she undid it with practiced swiftness. She didn't let it fall though, she caught it along her forearms instead, and pressed the collapsing fabric over the bottom of her breasts and over her swollen, large nipples. Darian's erection twitched several times, and the man groaned at the sight.

She was teasing him. Again! It hadn't even occurred to her to do it, it just came to her like fire to oil. The way he stood there, gazing at her with eyes glazed in hunger made her whole body tingle, and she could not help but indulge in those eyes by slowly letting the fabric fall from her skin. When finally her heavy breasts were exposed, pulling down against her body without the wrap to keep them supported, Darian groaned. The poor man kept his hands at his sides, but she could see his fingertips caressing the air, as if caressing her.

She undid the wrap on her hips with the same taunting slowness, and when she slid it free to expose her pink folds to Darian, his cock raised with more twitches. He wanted to be inside her, she could see it in his eyes, locked onto her body like a ravenous animal.

Still he did not move. She slithered a little closer, and made sure to lean forward so her teardrop breasts could sway with their weight. Once again only a foot from him, and still he did not move.

There was still an hour of sunlight left, and it filled the little home with enough light for her to see everything clearly, far more clearly than the night before. Looking down, she could see his shaft straining against its own tightness, lined with subtle veins. His pubic hair was trim, but the dark hair was a huge contrast to her hairless skin. She wanted touch him.

With a shy smile, she eased herself down further and further. With her body low to the ground, she found a height similar to a woman on her knees, and reached up with bold hands to take Darian's hips and align him with her.

He blinked at her, and the surprise on his face was delicious. He even tried to take a small step back, but her hands would not let him.

"Medusa? You su—"

"I want to." No doubt the man was still worried for her, given her past. But looking up at him, catching his hungry eyes from below? She was getting wet. "I want to explore! And... touch and... see everything."

Darian gulped, but nodded, and his mouth parted with quiet pants when she put her lips only inches from his raised length.

She gulped too. Last night, the member in front of her had been well below her, and the whole process of sex had hidden much of what was going on, despite her attempts to see everything. Staring at his cock from only inches away though? It made her nervous. She could smell his musk. She could see his muscles tighten when he flexed his pelvic floor and caused his length to stand straight up. She could see the soft parts of it that ran underneath it, from his scrotum to the swollen tip.

With quivering fingers, she touched the softness underneath his member, and ran their tips up and down in a slow, loving caress. The reaction was instant, his cock springing upward with another flex of Darian's muscle, accompanied by a gentle moan from the man.

"You'll, um... you'll have to tell me... what feelssss good," she said. "I've never done... thissss."

"You seemed quite skilled last night."

She frowned at him. "Hey! I'm... it...." Her head lowered, and she looked to the side as more blush radiated across her face and body. "I know what I like. A hundred yearsss alone, and...." Confessing to a masturbation habit was not what she had in mind! "Ssssso I... did what I liked. And you ssseemed to like what I liked."

"I did, very much." Darian sighed, one of those deep and relaxing sighs, and he reached down with his hands to graze his fingers along her snake hair. "Here, let me lie down."

Medusa slid a little further away and spread her snake self about. She coiled around the pile of blankets with her long body, left enough room for Darian to lay on his back, head propped up on some of her scaled side. She lowered her torso to put her herself on her belly between his legs, elbows on the blankets and her chin in her palms with her face a few inches from the phallus beneath it. Just a young girl studying something intriguing. Very, very intriguing.

He reached down with one of his hands, and wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock. Seeing his fingers circle his girth made Medusa's heart rate double, until she started to pant to keep air in her lungs. "Around the base here, you can squeeze and massage it however you want. But...." He reached out with his other hand, and pulled down his foreskin. The head of his shaft was swollen, ripe, tinted red, and it looked very soft. And with how Darian grew extremely gentle when he touched it, it must have been. "This is... very sensitive. I don't like to touch it unless it's something soft, and wet."

Wet. She leaned in a little closer, let out her long snake tongue, and ran its forked tip up the underside of his glans. Darian trembled under the sensation, and let out the tiniest moan. The look of pleasure on his face, and the little noises he made when she touched the head of his member, sent more tingles down her spine. She could feel herself getting wetter already, and her silky flesh between her hips was certainly soft enough for his cock.

But her lips and tongue were also wet, and soft. She was not as sweet as Darian as sometimes thought she was. She worshiped Aphrodite and Eros. She remembered what the young men and women did in the temple garden after dark!

With a gulp, she lowered one of her hands to his thigh, and the other to his member. Darian removed his hands for her, and she slipped one of hers about his girth. Warm, and the texture of his soft skin wrapped tight against the hardness of his arousal was such a pleasant contrast. She squeezed him, lightly of course, and she grinned up at the man laying down before her when he squirmed a little under her touch.

She stroked him, and eased her hand up and down his skin with a light grip. The hand on his thigh grazed along his skin before finding his balls, and she caressed them with curious digits. Such a strange sensation, the soft skin, the things it held within. She'd seen a man get kicked in the crotch once, and then him vomiting in pain after; testicles were meant to be treated gently!

Weight on her elbows between his legs, one hand caressing his soft flesh beneath his shaft, the other massaging the hard girth of his cock, she leaned forward, and placed a sweet kiss on the swollen tip. Darian trembled a little under her touch, his face was starting to blush, and his confident smile he always wore started to fade. Instead, his eyebrows relaxed upward, and his mouth hung open enough so she could see a bit of his tongue. He was enjoying her touch.

He was enjoying her touch! She kissed the tip of his member again, and this time, bolstered by a swelling pride and joy, she did more than kiss. She knew sensitive places on her own body, and she knew what she wanted — what she thought she'd never get — from someone. Soft, warm, and massaging touches. Slow, but powerful. Grinning, she slid her lips down over his ripe glans, and made sure to bury it in her soft, warm, massaging touch. She kept him there, and with her lips wrapped suckling on the edge of the head of his cock, she pushed her tongue against it, along its sides and underneath it.