Great Balls of Fire
When Destiny Surprises
“The cards,” said Barin. “Cut them.”
Raz, his imp, made a rude noise.
“You expect, what, favorable omens for once?”
“I’ll not walk these final miles knowing nothing of what waits ahead.”
“Hello… we already know. It’s a dragon. But good news: there’s still time to turn back.”
“By the Gods’ wrath, you are an imp, aren’t you? A fiend, more like, eating at the remnants of my fortitude.” Barin unsheathed his sword. “I should run you through and leave your carcass for the buzzards!”
“On second thought, why don’t I cut the cards?”
From his leather backpack Raz withdrew a folded silk cloth, deep purple in hue, flawless to the eye. He unwrapped the ancient deck and began shuffling it.
“You alter course with commendable speed, Imp,” said Barin.
He’d never harm Raz. The wretched creature was just doing his job, which was to constantly test Barin’s focus, his commitment, his vision and, yes, his courage, all of which, at the moment, hung listlessly about his soul like a beggar’s tattered rags.
Raz cut the deck and turned over the first card.
Barin’s spirits sank even lower. “Eight of Swords,” he murmured.
“Endurance at its last gasp,” Raz intoned. “It’s been a long journey, master.”
“And not yet over!” Countered Barin. “Next.”
Raz glanced at the next card, then quickly placed it back on the deck. “Master, Cordova is but a short way behind us. We can rest, forget all this quest nonsense —” With his eyes he implored Barin — You don’t want to know.
“Show it.” The card was revealed. “Death,” he said, staring numbly at the skeleton wielding its scythe.
“Remember master, death is not just an ending, but a transformation into something new. Now, really, if we just go back to Cordova —”
“Silence!”
“Erp!” burbled Raz.
“The last card. Quickly.”
It was The Priestess, the primal woman, ruler of the tides and the cycles of the moon.
“A strange combination,” mused Barin. “But what does it mean?”
“It means follow my advice. In Cordova, Madame Trieste’s lovelies will show you all about transformation.”
“Now you wound me gravely. What do you suggest? That I succumb to carnal lusts? Surely I shall fail, lest I remain pure.”
“Actually, that brings up an interesting point —”
“Enough, Imp! We’ll camp here. Tomorrow… our destiny awaits.”
“That’s your plan?”
Later, when Raz heard Barin’s rumbling snores, he stole from their camp and beat a hasty retreat back to Cordova.
At four in the morning, Raz nudged Barin awake.
“Master, forgive me, but I deciphered the message of the cards.”
“What?” He shook himself awake. “Oh. Right. Those cursed cards. As confounding a spread as I’ve seen.”
“No, there is hope. The Priestess holds the key. She will restore your endurance and guide you through the transition to something new.”
“Well, there’s a worthless bit of prognostication. Where lurks this Priestess? Will she come strolling down the path with a, ‘Oh, hello Mr. Knight. I’m here to solve all your problems.’ ”
“Ummm… you might be surprised…”
And with that, a thunderclap shook the night air, and a brilliant pillar of flame ignited in the nearby trees. Billowing clouds of smoke rolled from the woods and engulfed Barin and Raz, sending both into violent coughing spasms.
“Master, look!”
“I can’t see a thing,” wheezed Barin.
“You’ll want to see this.”
And there, amidst a clearing in the smoke, emerged a woman. A sapphire adorned her forehead, a diamond hung from her neck, and a gold chain encircled her slender waist. She wore nothing else.
As she approached, her flawless form riveted Barin’s attention — breasts like ripe casaba melons, curves that rose and fell like an undulating serpent, and between her creamy thighs, the darkest of mysteries, a pathway yet to be explored by the earnest knight.
“Good sir, I have come to assist thee in thine hour of need.”
“I know not whence thou comest, but tempt me not, woman, for my heart is pure!”
“But indeed, thy balls are blue. Surely you do not risk battle without activating your shaft of power?”
“My what?”
She reached beneath his tunic and grabbed his already throbbing tool.
“Maybe you have your own name for it.”
“I cannot allow this.”
But her fingers were already dancing over the taut surface. “You have but to command me, and I’ll cease.”
A little faster now. Squeezing.
“We’ll… um…”
“I thought so. Let’s just leave everything to me?”
She raised his tunic and freed the mighty battering ram of flesh—pulsating, quivering with unfamiliar lust, sending shock waves throughout his entire body. Her fingers stroked it, lightly running from the base to the head. A small bead of clear, oily liquid quickly formed at the tip. She rubbed it over the head of his cock; when it was fully lubricated, she began to massage it with her fingers, slowly moving them up and down, stroking lightly. Then she knelt beside him, leaned over and took him into her mouth.
Barin, horrified, frightened, transfixed, lay there immobile as her tongue coated him in the most exquisite sensations imaginable. And they grew, the longer she attended to him, a mounting pressure that threatened to explode within. He moaned, arched his back, and thrust his hips against her willing mouth and buried himself all the way to the back of her throat. Never had he imagined anything like this.
Finally, she rose up on her knees and straddled him. She opened her thighs and parted her flesh, and Barin gazed into the deepest depths of that mystical realm. She moved her fingers over her shining, pink flesh, slipped them inside her, stirred them around, then brought them back out. She held them up to Barin’s lips. He tasted her juices and reached for her himself. But instead, she gripped him, guided the tip of his cock between her lips, and lowered herself onto him, slowly, letting moist flesh wrap around him bit by bit in maddening increments, until at last, she’d taken the whole of him into her.
The enclosing warmth sent Barin to an exquisite place he’d never imagined possible. As she rose and fell on him, space contracted and time slowed until all that remained of his awareness was the moist folds of her body and a rising heat in his loins that steadily obliterated thought, memory and, finally, all else. When the inevitable explosion burst out of him, it carried him away, lost in the clouds of ecstasy.
She had consumed him.
With Barin still in an ecstatic stupor, Raz walked Costanza back to her clothes and her horse.
“You went a bit thick with the smoke, didn’t you Raz?”
“I had to get his attention. Dazzle ’em with bullshit.”
“I hope it worked. A dragon? Really?”
“Not to worry. You’ve corrupted him.”
“I’d damn well better have.”
When Raz returned to the camp, Barin was recovering, dazed, but thoughtful.
Finally: “What just happened?”
“The prophesied transformation, I’d say.”
Barin nodded, and pondered.
“That dragon’s been there how long, Imp?”
“I’d say six centuries, give or take a decade.”
“Right. So… it’s not like there’s any rush?”
“He’s going nowhere.”
“Ah. So… um… this Madame Trieste of whom you speak—do tell me more.”
