Episode 12: RIVER RED

Aurora Dawson rubbed her palms together briskly with anticipation. After practicing for a few hours to replicate the powers of a certain A’Bomi lad who looked as if a 12-year-old in appearance she thought she had Gaiamancing down to a science. Worth a shot anyway! “Are you ready Skip?”

“You bet your gorgeous glowing green...”

“You better be thinking the word hands Tiny Tim and not the spanking kind.” Aurora narrowed her eyes at the youth, if you could call a lad who was over 200 years old, young. Skip’s obvious choice of eye contact was on her perfect, quite naked ass and delectable thigh gap. Noting the friction of her massaging palms turning green she made a point to shut him down.

“You may be 222 years old Skipper, but I can still wash your mouth out with soap. If we had soap that is!” She corrected herself then grimaced at an odor surrounding everyone within distance. “God we all smell like fish from the river. At least we washed the road dust off of our asses though.”

“You can talk about asses, and I can’t?” He stepped next to her then one step back to whistle at her butt cheeks. “Not touching, just licking my lips.”

“As long as they’re not my lips, Codger!” Aurora Dawson chuckled running her green hued right hand through the Gaiamancer’s hair. Even though he was 190 plus years older than Aurora due to his evolutionary breed he still looked and acted like a child to her. He adored her for more than just a lustful thrill, even though he had stepped beyond their boundaries in his long time stuck here alone in whatever era it was. As old as he truly was, he was hardly sexually active. Virgin, perhaps! Just his luck! So not her type but she did feel badly for the guy.

“Come on Aurora you know it’s impossible not to look at you. At least I’m behaving and not trying to tap that ass still. Unless ... you’re changing your mind?” He wiggled his brows up at her and wagged his tongue. Hopeful little guy!

“Not going to happen! Don’t go letting me distract you from your work. Check it out on your own time Geezer. Just don’t touch. By the way, I saw how edgy you were at my green palms going through your hair. You’re magic based so there’s no reason to worry about getting a receding hairline on my account.” He loved how funny she was even under tension. Skip was well aware how deadly her touch could be to living creatures that had no magic involved in their DNA. At least what he had witnessed thus far. A certain horse she accidently patted was still alive, no explanation as to how, but she was grateful to not have harmed it. “Let’s do this Skippy.”

“One bridge over troubled waters coming up.” He chuckled and stretched his muscles via concentration, those within his mind. His body was spindly and lank, but his power was off the charts. From beneath the riverbed he dislodged bedrock, creating bubbles and froth, fish swimming by darting for the safety of deeper water. Rising to the surface the muddy bedrock mounded up for as far as the eye could see. With the river extraordinarily wide at nearly miles across by the looks of approximation, the bedrock made it a dam. Which meant the water had nowhere to go and was going to rise all around them.

While Skip began hand gestures that sculpted the mounds into a flattened surface, he needed an assist to prevent tidal catastrophe. “Add to it my, Pretty Protégé. You can make a coastal wall. The hills around here rise up to both sides of us along the shoreline. We’re going to get wet if we don’t sandbag it. I do make you wet, right?” He smirked at Aurora, she knew he was talking dirty about her being wet because of his immense power and ego. That and the fact her magic embued flesh often appeared oiled up or wet in all the right places. For a hard body honey it would be shameful if she had a choice. Cloth material seemed to burn away each time she tried wearing something. An odd curse considering she could still hold harder things like metal. It was a good thing she rather liked being an exhibitionist.

Digging her feet in, legs parted as if seeking deep rooted leverage Aurora Dawson orchestrated her own mystical hand motions and began curling up the ground along the stretch of beach. The upturned soil conceived a ten-foot-tall wall that prevented flooding at their feet. To the Roman soldiers behind them it was a feat designed by the Gods. Even Aurora’s ancient wolf pack admired the handiwork of their Den Mother and this youthful elder.

Wielding forces that were incomprehensible was breathtaking. She was giddy at her achievement while finalizing her sculptures. Skip the sly, snuck behind her and knelt down just enough to look up between her thighs at her clam, which breathed a bit in her stretching about as if some sorcerer casting a spell. Saliva dripping, he heard a vicious growl and felt a heated exhale on the back of his neck. Swallowing dryly, he stood up and turned to see a curling snout and grumpy eyes. Garameth the Ghost seemed especially worried that Aurora’s powers were becoming too much for her had her back. She might let her adaptation powers consume her someday. This annoying little man was just too mischievous and needed to be set straight.

“I’m not touching her Fido.” Back to work he went. Garameth simply stared with intimidation. Sadly, the Prince, like all males did struggle with Aurora’s incredible body. Losing his mind when they first arrived in this strange world, even he took the woman to the ground, he and his entire pack. It was not by choice; her pheromones attracted their deepest bestial requirements. Males would be males! Apologies accepted, they now had control over themselves. Den Mother would be forever their Mistress.

Up on a hilltop at a safe distance the Roman General Calahaus stood with the others of the pack. To his opposite side was his youngest soldier Amoreus posed with his back to the banks so that his limbless burden Odessi Kilpatrick could witness the event with awe. The Roman soldiers themselves were divided on whether to watch the land continuing to erupt or join everyone else in focusing on Aurora’s prestinely sculpted ass. Either way they were pondering on building a granite statue of their new Goddess but in the end none of them were artistic. Her perfect body in its stance was all the statue they required. That and her slightly dangling labia through the part in her thighs, statues always added extra features. Harmless enough! Goddess yes, respect tedious. They were men after all.

“Well, I’ll be a puddle of mud in the Sahara.” Just below the hilltop Mathias Longfellow aka Yukon growled looking from side to side at Aurora’s first real large-scale attempt at stone masonry. Building their shelters last night was mostly based on Skip’s talents, but a bridge the length of the Golden Gate in San Francisco, possibly longer, was beyond remarkable. Not only that, but a humongous wall holding the river back from a tsunami that could easily have swept away everyone here was certainly a feat. “Yep! Just pissed on that sand dune. Den Momma is coming right along.”

“Who would have thought our beautiful isolationist would grow up to be so majestic.” The shape changer Boogie aka Jean-Paul Boutcher of France questioned. “A week ago, she was throwing snowballs at us for amusement. Then that damned plane crash happened.”

“Everything happens for a reason.” Blue Eyes, aka Blue, aka Dashiell Corisante also of France from the 16th century added.

“At least she’s alive.” Lingo dubbed in, “I’d miss her scratching my belly in wolf form. Nothing creepy!” As if that wasn’t.

“Look at that, A’Bomi Boy busted up boulders to make the bridge flat enough that the horses can cross.” Orion found respect. “Kid has talent. I wonder if he’d sculpt me a bust? In my Hercules form flexing my moustache.”

“I don’t trust him. If anything, he’s going to build these here Roman’s a lot of tombstones without names.” Kyoot worried. Kyoot aka Kierron McDougal had a strong sense of dread, being of Irish upbringing his accent was long gone over the hundreds of years living in North America.

“Like us, he’s immortal.” Boogie reminded them, “The Roman’s aren’t. He can’t kill us; we can’t hurt him. But the General’s posse? They’re all doomed at some point.”

Canuck stepped up from a walk along the ridge keeping track of any troll activity after their recent battle. “Let’s just hope Odessi or Aurora’s visions warn them ahead of time if the kid ever decides to betray our kindness.”

“Leaving your watch Soldier?” Orion growled.

“Bosco’s still up topside scoping the terrain. I wanted to watch the current swell. You know that wall won’t last forever. We have maybe three hours to cross before the dike is overtaken. Might be a different story if the river was smaller.”

“General Calahaus is thinking the same thing.” Blue pointed with his snout toward the hill onlooking the chaos. “I can hear him barking commands to mount up and be ready to move.”

“Then so should we.” Mathias grumbled! “Garameth is looking our way. He knows we’re eavesdropping.”

Orion turned away and headed down toward Aurora and Skip, “It is time we sink or swim brothers.”

“Rather walk!” Mathias scoffed! “Had me bath yesterday.” He and the rest of his pack followed the larger wolf. Orion was known for charging into battle. While this was not any such war, just he in the lead was worthy of noting his past. Reason being he chose to forsake his original scrawny form to become a much larger man, in the end, wolf when not set in his place by Garameth.

Finishing up their bridge sculpting Aurora dusted her hands off smiling. “This is fun. Thanks for educating me on my groundbreaking technique.” Patting Skip on the shoulder she pulled him to her hip like a true mother and stared out at their achievement with pride. “We make a pretty good team, Skipper.”

Basking under her shadow Skip cast his much smaller arm around her bare thigh and hugged her backside. At her 7-foot height compared to his 3-foot-10 inches it was obvious there was no arm around her shoulder. Admiring their finished work Aurora felt Skip’s hand rise to palm her ass cheek, even if he was playing it cool by pointing out where they could add support. Letting him have his way, she felt it harmless enough to cut him some slack as long as he didn’t ... he did.

“OWWWW! Give me back my finger?”

“That’s what you get for getting greedy. I call this my Girly Guillatine. Stop poking my asshole then, before I clench tighter and give you a real boo boo. I might keep that finger as my A’Bomi butt plug!” She controlled her crevice bondage long enough for Skip to remove his index finger from her butt pucker. Shaking his fingers for circulation he pouted at her with a hint of awe. “Oh, boo fucking hoo! You deserved that crooked thing.” She frowned down at his expression of suffering. Lifting his finger to his nose he actually sniffed it then smiled. “Come up smelling like roses?”

“Fresh violets actually. How do you do that?”

“Rather it smells like shit?”

“Nooooope! But it should have a pungent ... like violets I say.” He knew she might flick him in the head and send him flying if he insulted her further. She was just that strong.

“Enough fooling around! Seeing as we’ve come to it, let’s cross this bridge. Want me to hold your hand, Baby Boy?”

“222, remember?” His hand aching he was afraid to accept her offer.

“Still my, Baby Boy! Come on Squirt let’s take the lead.”

“Piggyback ride?” He chuckled!

“I can do that. You deserve it after building that road for us. Keep in mind, this is as close as you’re going to get to riding this bitch any other way.” She razzed him with her tongue then snatched him by his upper arms launching him up over her head and around her shoulders. “Heels off the girls!” She noted the balls of his bare feet rubbing her nipples. “And keep your trousers zipped up. If I feel you jerking off in my hair I’m tossing you in the drink.”

“You ruin everything.” He laughed! “Can’t help my wanker getting hard though.”

“Uh huh!” She turned to find Orion and her pack walking up behind her, “Mount up, Boys.”

“Already mounting you.” Skip chuckled!

“That’s enough up there.” She groaned! “Mathias? You Folly, Luna, and Blue walk behind me.” She noted the General and six of his soldiers trotting their horses downhill then approaching. “General behind you guys with a single file procession going across. Garameth and the rest of the pack hang back to make certain we’re not ambushed from behind.” General Calahaus indulged her in taking charge from that point until they got across the great pond safely. “Let’s move out. Waterfall by sunset.” Thankfully, the waterfall was between she and young Kodi Prescott. That is if that spirit pig they encountered last night was leading them in the right direction.

Stepping out onto the bridge Aurora laughed then started singing. “Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, though the streams are swollen, keep them doggies rollin’, rawhide!” She used to love watching old westerns with her mom and grandparents before the elders passed away.

“Always with the dog jokes!” The entire pack in a single thought grumbled!

“I liked that old Western.” Lingo smirked!

“You would!”

Eastwood, even!

Stone’s Throw Research Base! Arctic Circle at dawn! Modern day!

The door to a private room for its staff members opened like a sealed tomb, an actual vapor expelling but subsiding quickly. The scent of death emerging with it vacated as well. Cameras rolling in the halls captured a lull in time once the door opened. The watchers dramatically found the hurried form of a certain pilot, Byron Cromwell of the Black Ops unit Illuminus, tossed out into the corridor nude, his asshole bleeding profusely. While no security detail was sent, the onlookers covering monitor duty were certainly aware. Not only was his ass trickling blood but so was his neck. Nothing new at Stone’s Throw, the place was crawling with insanity.

Pulling himself up Byron ran for his life down the hall and back to his personal quarters. Once he slammed his own door the monitors no longer considered him worth watching. Returning to the still opened doorway of the room he had vacated, they found two women now outside in the hall. One their faithful dispatcher Olga, the other? Cameras were switched off. They did not want to see any more than necessary.

The Black Ops Commander known as Overshadow stood naked with the exception of a bloody strap-on dildo dangling between them. Olga pressed against the wall, the Russian beauty enjoyed a passionate embrace with the albino, also known as Mercedes. Outside of her raven black hair she was deathly white. In a maddening Hicky fest, Overshadow bore her fangs and fed on Olga’s neck, blood abandoning the blond until the leader appeared done with her.

Drawing back licking her lips, then storming Olga’s mouth for a stimulating kiss Olga slowly slid down the wall. No intention of following her down Overshadow let her go. Turning without concern she walked away licking her lips then her fingers. Mercedes left the blond to come to her senses and crawl back to her quarters in almost a zombie-like prowl. Mercedes? She removed her strap on for a tasty suckle before hissing and tossing it aside. Too much iron!

Byron Cromwell in his private room was just happy to be alive. He would definitely never disobey his leader again. Olga, who? Vampires were not to be questioned. He knew that now. So did someone else. His uniform hanging up on a wall had a patch on its upper arm in the shape of an eye. A delicate camera within its sewing watched his every move with interest. Who? Eye won’t tell!