Reflections of Evil
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2007 by Daniellekitten

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Jolene Walker has a problem. One that seems to have no solution. The Fates had determined her death and it wasn't going to be pleasant. Could she cheat the Fates? Maybe, with Micah's help it could be possible. But at what cost?

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Magic   Fiction   Paranormal  

He breathed his last, choking on the curse, feeling the cool drops of rain against his closed eyelids as he died. A brilliant light appeared in front of him, a warmth that stole the cold blackness of death from him. Gracefully, she appeared from that light, her body surrounded by a golden halo that was more than stunning.

"W... who are you?" he asked, sitting up.

"We don't have much time, Micah. I need for you to listen." She seemed to be waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from him so he nodded, waiting for her to continue to speak.

"I can help you fulfill your curse and bring your daughter back to you. But you haven't much time to make up your mind. If you wish this to become reality, I need to know now, while you are still attached to your corporeal form."

"B... but..." he began, only to have her interrupt again.

"I can reweave the thread of Anaya's life and help you attain justice on the men who killed her. But it must be done soon, before the color runs out of her thread." She held out her fist, turning it over to let a string dangle from her fingers. The color was bright, a sapphire blue that was true and beautiful. But the ends were slowly graying, the color leaking out. "Once the color is gone from her thread, it is over. Then Hades takes over and we do not want to have to deal with him."

"What must I do?" Micah asked slowly, seeing her gather the thread of his daughter's life back inside her hand.

"Say the words," she said softly, stepping forward.

Micah was stunned, as much by her appearance as by what was happening to him now. He could feel himself drifting, almost as if he were floating and looked down, amazed to find himself sitting inside of his own dead body. His eyes darted back at the golden haired beauty that stood waiting impatiently in front of him.

"I'm dead?"

"Yes, and you will stay that way if you don't speak soon and give me your answer."

"But what do you want of me?" he persisted, for he'd heard of the gods and their trickeries.

"Micah, there is little time..." she began, only to see a stubborn look come over his old face. "My name is Atropos; I am one of the Moirai, a Fate if you will. I come to offer you a bargain. We wish your help in exchange for the return of your daughter to this world and to satisfy the need for vengeance that darkens your soul."

"My help?" he questioned, staring at her cautiously.

"It is nothing much, and in return, you would be granted great strength and powers of your own. You will live forever." Atropos leaned down, reaching out to him. "Take my hand, say you will do as we ask and I can grant this to you."

Micah glanced back at his daughter's cold, lifeless body. "You'll give her a full and happy life?"

"Yes, one filled with wealth and joy."

It was all he could ever ask for. Reaching out, he grasped her hand, feeling Atropos pull him up with a strength that was amazing.

"Say the words," she repeated, still holding his hand in her own.

"I will do as you ask," Micah breathed barely loud enough to be heard above the storm that surrounded them.

Between their joined hands, a spark seemed to ignite, pain unlike anything he'd know before starting in the tips of his fingers and spreading outward until he dropped to his knees, unable to even scream at the agony that wracked his body.

His bones shifted, growing longer, his muscles bulged and firmed. His skin stretched over the new musculature, shifting as his face changed from what it had been to one more angular, with a beauty that only a gift of the gods could give. His hair darkened, the streaks of gray that had come from age, fading, growing dark and lush with a slight curl. His shoulders widened, his hips grew lean and firm. Even his cock grew.

All the while, Atropos held his hand, staring down at him with a hint of sadistic pleasure at his pain. When it was done, she stood back, gesturing for him to rise, walking around him to gaze upon her handiwork.

"Oh yes, my sisters will be most pleased"

Micah stared down at his new body, feeling power in his new limbs and the strength of his young heart. Her words made his head come up and he stared down at her from his new height, one head and shoulders above her. "You've granted me this to make me some kind of male whore for the gods?" he asked in disbelief.

"No," Atropos laughed, waving away his words with her fisted hand. "Of course not, but if we are going to have to look at you for eternity, you might as well be a pleasure to the eyes. Now, hurry, take my hand. We must reweave Anaya's thread."

Before he could reach out to her, she stopped him, staring at his face suddenly as if he'd sprouted horns. "No, no that will not do," she muttered. Reaching out, she tapped his eyelids with her finger, sending shooting pain into his skull. When he'd opened them, gone were the brown eyes he'd been born with. In their place, blue irises gleamed, startling against his tawny skin and dark hair. "Much, much better," she sighed.


Micah lifted his head as the door to his chamber was thrown open and Klotho stormed inside. Of the three sisters, she was the one that he was able to stomach for the longest. She didn't have the sadistic need to cause pain that Atropos did, or the obsessive demeanor of Lakhesis. She was also, by far, the prettiest of the three, with soft pale skin and lush pink lips that were now set in a pout.

"What now?" he growled, not bothering to rise from where he reclined upon a low backed couch.

"Where were you?" she snapped, walking up and pushing aside his feet to plot herself down on the end of his couch. "I've been searching for you forever."

"Forever? Well you must not have been searching very hard; I've been here all morning." He stretched, standing up and moving away from her even as her hand reached out to touch him.

"You don't find me attractive anymore, Micah?" she asked, using her most seductive tone. "You haven't come to me in weeks."

"Your bed hasn't been empty, Klo. You and I both know that. Besides, since your sister has gone on her rampaging tantrum, I've had way too much work to do to fix her screw ups." He yawned hugely, covering his mouth but making sure she saw it. "Now if all you've come in here for is to whine about me not servicing your needs, please, go find some other stooge to force to heel. I'm tired."

"Micah," Klotho said, changing her whine to something softer, sweeter. "Don't be this way. You know you are my favorite of all my lovers. Can I help it if I was imbibed with Zeus's libido?" She reached up, plucking loose the ties that held her gown to her shoulders, watching his eyes as they tracked the descent of the gown to her feet, leaving her naked.

Her body was toned, firm, with high perky breasts that had always been his favorite, until Lena. Now, looking at her left him cold. He felt none of the desire he'd felt for any of the sisters before. He watched as she sauntered towards him, her hips swaying with a seductive bent, her legs long and beautiful to gaze upon.

Reaching up, she unwound the small cord that held her curling tresses confined, letting them slip around her body, framing her beauty with golden silk.

"Sorry Klo. I'm too tired to rise to the occasion right now." He didn't move from the spot he was in, knowing it would just make her all the more determined to catch him. Instead, he let her run her hands over his body, press her firm breasts into his chest, stroke his cock through his pants and didn't feel a thing.

"Who is she?" Klotho asked after five minutes of trying to making him hard. "Who is wearing you out that even I can't get you up?"

"Did you ever think that maybe I'm just bored with you?" he asked, shrugging his wide shoulders and walking away from her.

"Bored with me? Impossible. There must be someone." Unwilling to give up, she snapped her fingers, watching as his leather pants disappeared, leaving him as naked as she. She stalked him, moving ever closer, running her hands over her skin in a way that would have a dead man horny enough to fuck her through a body bag.

"Knock it off, Klotho. I told you, I'm not in the mood." He stood still, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of the chase. But he grabbed her hands, stopping her from touching him, using them to push her back and away from his body.

Her blues eyes sparked, ire igniting flames of rage. For a moment, Micah had second thoughts. He knew, somewhere on Earth, someone was just starting to have one hell of a bad day. It always happened when the Fates raged and Klotho's rage was something spectacular to see.

She stepped closer, seeing his hands coming up to ward him off, instead, she just leaned closer, breathing in his scent. "There is someone else. Is it one of my sisters? Who are you fucking, Micah?"

He held up his hand, wiggling his fingers at her. "This is it, Klo. You'd think you'd realize after centuries of being your go-fer and whipping boy, I'm tired of you, of all of you and of this." He indicated the luxurious surroundings with a wave of the same hand.

"We gave you life, Micah. We gave you power and revenge upon those that would have killed your daughter again. And what do you give back? You take care of a few little slip ups, that's all we've asked of you. Now you're tired of us?"

"A few slip ups!" Micah raged, stalking toward her, this time the predator to her prey. "HA! How many times have I had to go down and make sure Death was given its due because you and your sisters were gossiping, or too busy ogling some male body or another to do your job? More times than you could possibly count. If you three would do what you're supposed to, you wouldn't even need me."

Klotho watched as he turned away, gingerly wiping her face of his outraged spittle. "Geez, you don't have to get so mad," she said. "How were we to know that you were unhappy? Did you bother to tell us?"

"Only twenty times a day," Micah growled under his breath, realizing it would do little good to argue with Klotho. She, like most of the gods on Olympus, was a selfish being, thinking of their own pleasures before that of anyone else. Yes, they could be a lively bunch and often were. But their needs always came first in their books.

"You made a pact with Atropos," Klotho said, acting as if Micah hadn't bothered to speak. "Making a pact of that sort with a god is irreversible. You know this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I learned the hard way." He waved his hand in the air, going back to his couch to recline once more, hiding the cauldron on the other side. "Now if you don't mind, I'm tired of this conversation, Klo."

 
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