Medusa: Fate's Game
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2018 by Novus Animus

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Ancient Greece, in the time of the gods, monsters, titans, and heroes. Medusa, cursed and doomed to live her existence alone, makes a friend in someone she never expected. Friend quickly becomes lover, until the Fates intervene. Fantasy adventure ensues!

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fairy Tale   High Fantasy   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Squirting   Tit-Fucking   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Size   Slow   Violence  

~~Darian~~

Darian growled, louder than he wanted to, and when he glanced at Medusa, she was looking at him with a confused expression. No luck there, she’d heard them, and she lowered her human half down next to him. She kept looking at him through the corner of her eye, but the monsters before them weren’t the sort you took your eyes off of.

“It’s Darian now. Fuck off,” he said.

The three winged women glared at him, exposed their shark teeth, and scowled. But they said nothing; the masks that dangled from thread did all the talking.

“You try our patience, Bellerophontes. And we have been patient with you.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Worthless god-things. “So if it wasn’t you or the gods trying to shit down my throat, who was it? Who attacked that ship?”

“That is what we wish for you to discover.”

“ ... you don’t know. The Fates don’t know?” he said, and Medusa gasped behind him. Her whole body started to shake when she realized who they were. He gave Medusa’s worried hand a small pat, stepped toward the three creatures, their masters, and glared at each mask in close proximity. He even snickered. “You’re pathetic.”

That was too much for the she-demons. One of the winged bitches reached out with their free hand, fast enough he couldn’t react, and grabbed his shoulder. Their grip was absolute, like a titan with a hangover, and they scowled at him while they screeched and forced him to his knees.

“D-Darian!” Medusa slithered his way and readied to pounce, but Darian held up his hand.

“They won’t kill me. They won’t even injure me. Wouldn’t want to hurt their precious merchandise.”

The Erinyes growled inhuman noises and shoved him away, hard enough to knock him on his ass.

“Stubborn child. Our need is for both of our sake’s, not ours alone,” one of the masks said.

He got up, dusted off his naked butt, and folded his arms across his chest. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you.”

“They will come for you again, once they learn you are still alive, child. And your new friend will suffer for your stubbornness.”

He tightened his fists, but looked back at Medusa behind him. She looked worried, even petrified, but her worry was pointed at him. He really didn’t want to drag her into this shit show.

“That ... that will be up to her. I won’t endanger her, but it’s her choice. I’ll leave if she asks it of me.”

Medusa tilted her head to the side, maybe a little shocked at his words. Perhaps she thought he’d give some speech about how he wouldn’t risk her life, and he’d run away at the first sign of danger so she’d come to no harm. He was far too selfish for that. He didn’t want her out of his life, and he knew it.

“Bellerophontes, someone has stolen one of the Moirai masks.”

Their blend of anger and frustration in their inhuman voices earned more laughter from Darian than he’d hoped for. If he kept pushing it though, one of those winged demons was liable to hurt him just for the sport of shutting him up, no matter what their masters said.

“And what does this have to do with me?” he said once the laughter had passed.

“Whoever this person is, they are using the mask to hunt down all the children, including you, Bellerophontes. It is they who attacked you.”

“Of course they are.” He gripped his head and ran his fingers through his hair, complete with groans of frustration. “And what—”

“Enough questions!” One of the masks said, and the creature holding it stepped closer to aim the speaking slab of metal and glowing white at his face. “As we said, this is for both our sake’s, but if that is not enough to convince a stubborn fool like yourself, know that this enemy has captured your beloved Pegasus.”

Darian froze. They had Pegasus? “How ... how do you know that, if you don’t know who stole the mask?”

“And we have not come to reveal all our secrets to you, fool.”

The Erinyes started to circle him in a slow walk, each pointing their thread-bound masks at him. Medusa wanted to jump in, in fact his new friend seemed anxious to battle for him, but he shook his head when they made eye contact.

“ ... so ... I help you, and I get to save Pegasus...” He watched the demons circle him in the corner of his eye, but he didn’t turn with them. His exposed back was no worry; they needed him.

He gritted his teeth and took a moment to think. Pegasus was alive. That was good. Very good. Memories of his old friend carrying him through the sky earned a slow sigh from Darian. He could remember the cold rain, the blowing wind, the exhilaration as they flew skyward. He could remember the lightning that sent them both plummeting. Pegasus would never betray him.

A thought, like a spark in the dark, hit the back of his eyes when he glanced Medusa’s way. And then a slight grin.

“Alright, on one condition.”

The Erinyes stopped circling him, and glared with more rage on their face. He really did enjoy pissing them off.

“You have nerve, child,” one of the masks said.

“Speak,” said another.

“I ... I help you, I kill whoever it is that stole one of your masks, return it to you, and in return, you help her.” He motioned to Medusa with a nod of his head.

The gorgon blinked at him, shock blatant on her face, and she brought her hands up to her lips to bite on a nail. The Erinyes looked at her, and if Darian didn’t know better, he’d think they were jealous.

“ ... Athena’s curse is not ours to undo.”

“You’re not going to undo the curse, you’re going to arrange a meeting. Myself and Athena. Medusa too if she wishes to be there.”

The masks had no facial expressions, they were just solid slabs of metal with glowing white mist dripping from their eyes and mouths. But the silence carried more than enough weight to make up for their expressionless faces.

Medusa slithered a little closer, and the Erinyes did not stop her. “Darian, you...”

He cracked a smile her way, a quick one, and gave her a sneaky wink to go with it before he donned his stern glare again for the masks. They stared at him, still and lifeless, and he stared right back, arms across his chest and his bare foot tapping the stone beneath them.

“ ... we cannot guarantee your life, or hers, young Bellerophontes.”

Ooh, so courteous now that he was willing to help them. Predictable.

“I know.”

The winged demons looked at each other, and slurred more of their inhuman growls. The noises rose to a roar of anger, and they shoved at each other with their free hands, like squabbling birds.

“Enough!” one of the masks said. The winged creatures stopped bickering, and stood beside each other wing to wing, their harsh glares on Darian and their masters held out at arm’s length in front of them. Apparently, even their attack dogs weren’t always so perfectly obedient. “It is a deal, Bellerophontes. We have your aid then?”

“You do.” He had to bite his tongue to keep the bile in his throat down.

“Excellent. We will send a ship for you in seven days time. You will know its approach by the death’s hands and the step of hooves.”

Death’s hands, step of hooves? He squinted and tried to hide his confusion.

“It’s a deal then. Now go away.”

The monsters gritted their teeth the same way he did, and they growled at him between clenched jaws.

The masks weren’t done though. “You will need help, Bellerophontes, to find this devious entity.”

“And I suppose you have one lined up for me.”

“In a manner of speaking. You know this person well, and you know where they have gone.”

He raised a brow. “I do?”

“Indeed. You crushed their face with a rock.”

He took a step back. “ ... he’s alive?”

It was the Erinyes’ turn to laugh. They flapped their wings, kicked up dirt and water with their huge wingspans, and lifted into the air, all the while cackling. The masks did not answer him. In fact, they went deathly silent, and the white mist that glowed in their orifices faded away. The skulls that the masks were strapped to fell to dust caught in the wind of wings, leaving the masks to dangle from thread with no voice.

And they left. As quickly as they came, the wicked monsters were gone, high into the sky and nothing but a blur against the sun.

The silence that followed was painful. He looked down at the stones beneath him for a while, and listened to the little stream that flowed from the mountain into the large rock basin beside him. He looked to the sky, to the water, to anywhere but Medusa.

The gorgon didn’t move either, he’d have heard it. She stood there, still as a snake, and watched him. When he glanced her way in the corner of his eye, he could see she was still holding her hands up to her lips, and was biting a knuckle. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

And why wouldn’t they be? Shit just showed up and dumped itself all over the two of them.

He might as well talk first. It was his fault. “I ... I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” She took his voice as a queue, and slithered over to him. She’d even brought his loincloth, and he chuckled half-heartedly when she handed it to him.

“For this,” he said, and gestured to the sky where the demons were dots on the blue. “For ... not telling you my real name.” He tied on the loincloth, and did his best to avoid eye contact as he did so. He didn’t need her to see the guilt he was sure he was radiating. “For—”

She picked him up, and hugged him. He knew he was a light guy, but the gorgon literally picked him up and raised him several feet in the air, just so she could hug him while slithering about with her human half hovering high above the ground. Damn she was strong when she wanted to be.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, and she slithered around in a circle like a dance. After a few minutes of holding him like a doll, she set him down, but she kept one of his hands in hers, and she squeezed it while smiling at him. It was one of those smiles, the confident and happy kind he was the one usually wielding.

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“I thought for sure I did.”

“No.” She giggled, and tugged on his hand like a young, excited girl. “I knew you had secretsss, Darian, I just didn’t know they’d be so huge. The Fatess?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s ... it’s a long story, but the short of it? I’m just a pawn in their game.”

“Game?”

“Yeah, they like to ... they...” They like to ruin lives. “They orchestrate events, big things, anything that could get spun into a tale, and throw someone like me into it.”

“Oh ... oh! Your eyes, they glowed white like ... those masks...”

The reality was starting to hit her, he could see it on her face. The last thing he wanted was for her to look at him differently.

She tugged on his hand again, closer, until she was able to lean down and put her forehead to his. “And you gave me a choice ... to stay by your side. And even more, you said you ... you’d do this to help me.”

He nodded, and let her snake hair poke at his shoulders. “Yeah, I ... I didn’t want you involved if you didn’t want to be. And I saw a chance to help you. I couldn’t waste it, right?”

A tinge of guilt crept up his back. He wanted to help her, he did. But he also saw an opportunity. Him, Athena, and a host of ways he could take advantage of that. A step closer to revenge.

But not until Medusa’s curse was fixed. Control yourself Darian, even if you get the chance, control yourself. Medusa came first.

“You couldn’t waste it.” Medusa chuckled, and she started to slither around him again. This time though, she kept close to him, very close, so close he couldn’t raise his arms. Bit by bit, she coiled around him until he couldn’t move, and she held him like a meal ready to be devoured.

He really didn’t mind. It was even comforting, trapped in her embrace, her smooth snake skin along his human skin. And when she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“So ... you’re leaving soon,” she said.

He nodded, head heavy. “Yeah. I know who they were talking about, and where he’s gone. It’s South of Sparta.”

“That is far ... I wonder if the journey will be hard on my scales.” She reached down, and patted the belly of some of her snake length.

Wait, hard on her scales? “You’re coming?”

“ ... did ... you not wish for me to?”

Arg, she had that sad, worried look on her face again that broke his will like puppy eyes.

“Of course I do. We ... it’s...” He tried to raise his arms to express his concern. No good, trapped at his side. “It’s dangerous! You could get hurt.”

She shook her head, and squeezed him with her snake coils. He couldn’t move at all anymore.

“Ssso could you! I won’t ... no, I won’t let that happen.” She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him, but he didn’t shake much trapped as he was. “You want to help me. I want to help you! And ... you gave me the choice.”

“I did, I just thought ... I figured I’d be a real jackass if I made those choices for you.”

She leaned over his trapped body, and put her forehead to his again. Those perfect yellow snake eyes gazed into him, and her snake hair nuzzled up against his neck and jaw when she smiled.

“I heard, in Sparta, women can exercise with the men, wear chiton robes like men, read and write, even earn money,” she said. “Is that still true?”

He nodded. “Last I was there, the women were walking around with the men, doing those things, yeah.” He really liked his visit, much as it had taken some convincing to let him in the city. Spartans were a defensive bunch.

“And you said the one who can help you is near Sparta?”

“I did.”

“Then ... I would like to see that. With you,” she said.

She was nice, so damn nice. So perfectly and completely nice, nicer than anyone he’d ever known. It was going to get her killed, and it was the reason he didn’t want her to go. It was also the reason he didn’t want her out of his life.

She was so close to him, with her forehead on his, her snake hair coiling around his ears and shoulders. He pushed his jaw forward, found her lips, and gave her a kiss.

She pulled back, surprised. Had he crossed a line? Last night had been a very sexual experience, and right then, it wasn’t sexual. It was different.

“You kissed me,” she said. Her voice had gone quiet again, and she put her fingers on her lips to touch where he’d kissed them.

“Sorry, just ... I couldn’t help it. Y—”

She kissed him back. Her hands found his head and neck, held onto him, and pulled him into her kiss. Her eyes were closed, her expression was blissful, and she wasn’t stopping. Her coils loosened with time, until Darian could get his arms out, but Medusa was pushing herself forward and onto him, until he was sitting on the stone and blinking up at the gorgon.

“Do ... all the women ... throw themselves at you, like this?” she said, and she laid her human body atop him in the center of a large ring of her snake length.

“Many do,” he said. When she raised her head and frowned at him, he snickered like a child. “But, I always said no.” That got her smiling again.

“No? Why would you say no?” She reached for his hands and netted her fingers into his while her weight pinned him to the earth. Her snake length beneath the hips rested between his legs, and her stomach was flat on his. From there, she put her lips onto his again, and moaned, just barely, into his lips.

“None of them were ... kind.” He put his arms on her hips, and held on while the deadly gorgon bathed him in kisses. Not a single one of those women had been as kind as the monster in his arms.

“That is a sad story.” Satisfied, she sat up, and laid her body out across her snake length. “Now I see images of Darian – Bellerophontes – pursued by women, but always alone.”

“It wasn’t ... yeah, I guess I was pretty lonely.”

“Then I hope to keep you company on your journey,” she said.

“That journey is going to be a hard one, Medusa.”

“I can imagine.”

He shook his head. “People could die.”

“Probably.”

“People are going to see this,” he said, and pointed to his forehead where he carried his slave mark. “If not, they’ll definitely see you.”

“We will deal with it if it happens.”

“And it will be a long journey.”

“The better for us to get to know each other? Not even ten days and you’ve shared my bed. I feel like a harlot.”

He laughed. She may have said that, but she was grinning like a guilty cat.

“You ... really want to help me on this, don’t you? You don’t even know who Pegasus is, and you barely know me.” And you don’t know what I’m capable of.

“I know you are also doing this to help me ... and that you are the first to ever look at me with those eyes.” Again she reached out and tugged on his hand. “Am ... am I to give a speech for you? Like a poem for Aphrodite, stroking your ego with talk of infatuation and attraction?” She joked, but her finger caressed his knuckle, the same as he had done for her the night before.

“I am a man. Best way to make me happy is to inflate my ego.”

“Oh, I see.” She tugged his hand again and brought him closer. “Then, you are the first to make me laugh, and smile, and feel safe in a very, very long time, Darian. Not even when I was human did I ever enjoy someone’s company as much. And ... and I know there is a lot about you that I don’t know, but ... I am hoping you’ll tell me.”

“I know.” He winced at the thought of dredging up old, ugly stories. “And I will tell you, if you give me time?”

She nodded. “I will. It’s a good thing it’s a long journey then.”

Damn she was a treasure, and way too forgiving. How had a century of solitude and warriors come for her head – warriors she’d killed – not hardened her? He’d hate to be the one responsible for destroying her beautiful personality.

But he’d hate it more if he was responsible for her getting killed.

“Alright. If we’re going to sail and trek across Greece, I’m going to need to teach you to fight.”


~~Medusa~~

It did not take much time for Medusa to realize, she was a horrible fighter.

Darian, or was it Bellerophontes now? He had found them both some sticks to use as swords and spears, and he was trying to teach her some forms. From the dead, he’d removed their shields, one for him and one for her. Dead men’s shields. She frowned each time she looked at the thing on her arm.

“One-on-one combat is a different beast, compared to phalanx combat. In a phalanx, you’d be against a wall of larger shields and spears. But when it’s a duel, or maybe two on one, you need to be able to move and block.” He demonstrated by quick stepping side to side, but also keeping his sword and shield up.

Apollo’s light cast down on them in the midday, and the murmurs of the sea were behind her. Out on the dock, she could stare up at the two sisters she never wanted, Sthenno and Euryale from the names carved at their feet, and wish she could lay under the shade they cast, but Darian would have none of it. Instead, he kept them out along the dock where there was little room to move, unless she wanted to fall into the sea. She considered slithering down into the water, just to help alleviate the heat. Her human half could sweat, but her snake half could not; staying cool in the sun was a problem.

She tried to emulate his quick movements. There was no chance, not with her snake body. The best she could do was hover her torso in the air from side to side. Her torso had a few bruises too; Darian took his training seriously, and had thwaped her more than thrice.

“But ... I have no legs, and...”

“Yeah. I know, and — yeah.” He scratched at the back of his neck, just as confused as her. “And it could all very well be a moot point. If you try dodge me, I’ll just—” he leaped in with disturbing speed, a blur, and when she tried to move her human half out of the way, she succeeded. But it didn’t matter, Darian just went past her torso and attacked her snake half. He was kind enough to not smack the scales hard enough to bruise that flesh, but the point was clear nonetheless.

“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?

 
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