Chapter 25

Penelope woke up with Gudnwet gone. The demon hunter obviously slipped out sometime in the night to avoid any uncomfortableness with their parting. There is a bit of sadness that she feels, especially that she is alone. She bathed one last time, then dressed and headed out to buy a little bit of food with the little bit on money Gudnwet left her for that purpose. With a few supplies and a direction, the witch left the town and headed for the gate. With the simplicity of the road going straight out from Wallpazoohah to the gate, she was told that getting lost is impossible.

Needless to say, Penelope managed not to get lost. The road was, in fact, a straight shot to the gate. But it isn’t the gate that presents her with a new problem. The problem lies in the gatekeeper—one named Tartas.

“Well, you look like a cat to me,” the witch says, squinting with her head cocked to the side.

“Again, I am not a cat,” Tartas says. “I’m a sphynx.” He is dressed in a soft white shirt that is unbuttoned completely, and soft, black pants that are so snug, they show off the bulge of his cock.

“You have ears like a cat.”

“And?”

“And you’re sitting down like one.”

“No, I meant: what is your point?”

“That you’re a cat,” the witch says again.

“Why do I feel that we are getting nowhere?” Tartas says with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, that’s not my fault.”

“Then who pray tell is it?”

“Yours,” Penelope says smartly.

“Mine?”

The girl nods. “Yes.”

“How do you figure?” Tartas asks, not believing that he is going to be blamed for something that clearly is not his fault.

“You insist asking me stupid questions when I’ve already explained that I need to go through,” the girl explains hastily.

“They are riddles,” the sphynx corrects. “They are not questions.”

“Is there a difference?” the witch asks.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Well, for one...” Tartas stops and looks down at the young witch with unsympathetic eyes. “If you do not know the difference then you obviously do not need to be here.”

“But that’s what I’m telling you. I need to get through here,” Penelope whines.

“And I will let you pass, provided you solve my riddles,” Tartas reiterates.

“So you’re not just going to let me pass?”

“No.”

“And I have to answer your questions?”

“Riddles...”

“Yeah, those,” she corrects.

“Yes.”

“And you say you’re not a cat?”

“I’m not a cat,” he repeats.

“You look like one,” she says. “The friend I’m rescuing is one.”

“I am not a cat!”

“Alright, alright,” she says. “You don’t have to get your panties all tied up.”

“I don’t wear panties.”

“Just saying ... sheesh...”

“Are you finished with your shenanigans?” Tartas asks with a huff.

“Shenanigans?” she asks as if she were just slapped. “You’re the one playing games.”

“Have you always ... never mind,” the sphynx says with a shake of the head. “I’ll give you three chances to answer one riddle right.”

“Why three?”

“Because that’s the rules,” Tartas says.

“So what if I don’t get any of them right?”

“Then you turn around and walk back to whatever rock you crawl out from under.”

“Well, that’s not fair,” the witch complains.

“Life isn’t fair,” the sphynx retorts.

“Well it should be,” she counters.

“Are you ready?”

Penelope crosses her arms and stamps her foot. “Yeah, let’s get on with this nonsense.”

Tartas stands up proudly, his chest shoved forward. “What’s in a man’s pants that you won’t find in a girl’s dress?” he says matter-of-factly as if their previous conversation never took place.

The young witch smiles. “This is too easy. Why didn’t you say it was going to be easy?”

Tartas’ eyes narrow. “Answer the riddle, please.”

“You sure are a stuffed shirt,” she remarks. “Alright, it’s a dick.”

“Wrong,” he says. “It’s pockets.”

“For real?” she asks.

“For real,” he answers.

“I wasn’t prepared,” she says. “How about we count that as a practice question?”

“There are no practice rounds,” the sphinx says. “And they are riddles, not questions.”

“Same thing,” she mutters.

“You stick your poles inside me. You tie me down to get me up. I get wet before you do. What am I?” he continues.

“Tricky, tricky,” the young witch says, rolling her eyes. “The trick has to be in what word I use, right?” She looks at him for confirmation.”

“These are simple riddles,” he says. “A five year old can answer these.”

“Must be some dirty little boys then...” A smile comes over her face. “It’s a pussy!”

“Wrong?”

“What?”

“That’s two down, one to go,” the sphinx warns.

“You’re just not playing fair,” she argues.

“It is a tent,” he says. “And it is not my fault you cannot get your mind out of the gutter.”

“My mind isn’t in the gutter,” she says. “Those are the right answers and you know it.”

Tartas smirks. “I have a stiff shaft. My tip penetrates. I come with a quiver. What am I?”

“This has to be a dick,” Penelope answers confidently.

“An arrow,” the sphinx corrects.

“That was unfair,” the girl whines. “You tricked me.”

“How so?” he asks.

“Shaft and tip were misleading,” she answers.

“They were not.”

“I want to see your boss.”

“I don’t have one.”

“So you’re making up the rules as you go?” she asks.

“I don’t make the rules,” he informs. “They are what they are.”

“Well, I demand a redo,” she says folding her arms over her chest. “That was a trick question and I wasn’t prepared. My mind was on the first question.”

“Clearly,” he says. “And it’s a riddle.”

“Whatever.”

“Considering that I’m a guardian, I do have some leeway,” Tartas remarks offhandedly. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will give you one last chance, sort of a redo.”

A big smile spreads over the girl’s face. “Alright, this time I’ll get it.”

“What’s most useful when it’s long and hard?”

“Ha!” she shouts. “Now I know it’s a dick. That is the only thing that’s useful hard. Otherwise it’s just boring.”

“Wrong,” the sphinx says. “It’s something that you clearly need: an education.”

“I’ve got one,” she says a bit off put. “I go to the East School...”

“I don’t care where you go to school at,” Tartas interrupts. “That is not my concern. My concern is letting only those worthy of entry to pass through the gate.”

“Then there must be something I can do to prove my worth,” she says, pulling off her hat and lightly pulling at the hem of her dress.

The sphynx licks his lips when his eyes are drawn down to her thigh. “Considering where your mind seems to be, I’m quite certain that you can,” he says. His eyes roam up to her full breasts. It is as if he is noticing her for the first time. Of course he did when she first approached, but that was before he knew just how sexual of a creature she is. “But there are rules, and I cannot break them.”

Penelope smiles temptingly at him. “I’m sure you know how to bend them a little.”

He sighs, knowing that he very well does. “Of course I do,” he answers. “I know how to bend them to the point before they break.”

The witch lifts the hem of her dress just a little more, enough to give the sphynx a peek at her pussy. He swallows roughly. She moves toward him, dropping the hem and tugging at the material so that it slips down until it hangs loosely, caught by her nipples. Immediately his lips attach to her skin. He skims feather light kisses along her neck and jaw. He stakes his way up to her ear where he nips at it before sucking softly on it. Penelope murmurs. She is delighted at the feel of his warm lips and tongue. When he pulls away, she does too. Her dress falls completely from her to pool on the ground. She moves over to the wall aside the gate and leans forward, revealing her plump pussy lips. Tartas approaches her from behind, gripping her hips as she braces herself against the wall. He tilts her hips, rubbing her snatch against the bulge in his pants. He rubs himself suggestively along the girl’s length. The witch’s head drops forward and a moan escapes her lips, fingers curling on the rocks.