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Anthro Sex Squad Story 1 - Vibra's Story By Killenor Arc 1 - Origins Chapter 13

"The time has come. My chosen will gather. The way must be paved."

***

Elenyra returned to her senses, acutely aware of the orgasmic feelings rushing through her. At her hind end, Issa drove his delightfully large manhood deep inside. At her front, she concentrated on the familiar shaft of her mentor Doriminay. The sounds of heavy breathing and satisfaction greeted her ears as old friends and the warmth and salty taste told her that she had pleased her men.

She knew the feeling of an oracular experience, but unlike those other times she knew what had been said through her. Despite her post-coital glow, her stomach was yet a knot of cold dread. A glance at her aged teacher's face confirmed everything she had feared.

The end, and the beginning, was at hand.

***

Chrisholn thrashed against the restraints of the torture table, screaming out in rage and pain. Standing beside him, a throng of hangers-on tended him ineffectually with water and scented balms as the stony-faced badger worked at his old wounds. The expert hands of a life-long torturer surgeon worked feverishly, knowing that to fail would mean their separation from their owner.

"I am still no closer to divining the source of this particular injury milord." came Grand Royal Interrogator, "As I have said in these month past, until someone can successfully rid your body of these wounding magicks, you will have to continue allowing me to stymie the more... detrimental effects."

"The golden whore took my arm!" Chrisholn wailed wrathfully, "The finest of chiurgeons and sorcerers in all of Gurftheim have met their death at the hands of my father because of this wound, and now you dare to tell me that of which I am well aware?!"

Grand Royal Interrogator Hreugh set his expression as he would to a particularly petulant victim. Inwardly he felt a thrill of vicious delight at seeing the crown prince suffer so greatly... seeing him suffer upon his own table. After the first visit so long ago, when Chrisholn was brought into the grand halls of Gurftheim Palace, dripping blood, unconscious and dying, Hreugh could tell clearly that otherworldly magicks were at work. There by coincidence alone, he had recognized the glow of the power that had severed his prince's arm as something that could not be wrought by mortal hands... at least not without help.

Slyly, he had advised of the magicks that had done such a treasonous deed, but inwardly withheld a few small facts that would ensure his indispensability. The magic was insidious. Somehow the caster had successfully wrought together the energies of pain, death, passion, and decay into an impossibly fine blade. This combination alone should have been impossible, but the real surprise came when Chrisholn had announced that his assailant yet lived.

Long had sorcerers and scholars hoped to unlock the secrets surrounding the magicks of Rot and Necratia, but every fool who plumbed even the feeblest of workings would find their lives sapped and their bodies wracked with illness. It was well known that no one, not even the incredibly powerful Prodigies, could ever hope to harness that which defied and defined life. These things were antithesis to the very beings that hoped to use them.

Finally, the combination of passion with the other seemingly opposing powers... this troubled him. It was the fuel that kept the magicks working upon their target. Worse yet, the attempts to hinder or remove it, or indeed any of the pieces, had served only to flare the spell that ate at the prince's flesh. This, he knew, was the same passion that kept the subjects of his ministrations alive and in such agony as he could give when they could easily have had release with but an honest confession.

This spell would kill his prince eventually, but until then Hreugh made certain that all the doctors in the world would fail and that he would be seen as the saving grace of the royal bloodline. The way to prevent death, he knew, was to make the prince lust for life. He had to stoke the passion that burned within to stave off his eventual consumption... and the best way to do that was with agony. Thus it was that each talented doctor and sorcerer met his end and that every week or so, Chrisholn came in to have a little more 'treatment' from the Interrogator.

"Has there been any luck in finding your assailant since last we spoke?" Hreugh asked in the same iron-cold manner in which he asked all his questions.

"There is neither hide nor scale of the golden one," said one nervous toady, earning him a throttling from the prince's good arm.

Hreugh held back a shudder at seeing the bandages fall from Chrisholn's remaining hand. Whatever had wounded him had left its mark in a most hideous way. On one hand, Hreugh had been delighted to discover a new and terrifying technique to practice on his victims, on the other, even his cast-iron stomach turned at the thought of the mass of scar tissue that was now the prince's only hand. Often times there were no scars at the end of his work.

"I will have to remove until just above the elbow today." Hreugh said casually, praising his luck once again at having a royal visitor to his chambers, "I'm afraid it will be painful, but it should extend your life expectancy significantly."

"Do it," the prince growled between gritted teeth, "I'll not meet my end without their blood on my hands."

Hreugh smirked at the irony of such a statement as he began his cut.

***

Piercing cries echoed through canyons and off the sides of mountains. They were cries of pain. The sort of pain that only a mother could know.

These last months Andris had been a wonderful mate. He was attentive, very sensual, and ever willing to expand his knowledge of pleasing a female. Vibra's patience and creativity fueled his own, encouraging him to spend his idle hours improving their domicile, furnishing it with tanned skins and goods traded from traveling caravans, and learning what there was to know of Aaluran, letters, and the folk that populated the world.

None of that mattered now. Panic and fear gripped deep upon him.

He had seen it coming though, and he had seen it before in mates past. Vibra had swollen with eggs over the last months, becoming more ponderous daily as he fed her every appetite, both for meat and for mating. It seemed as though her demands grew with her, and as the laying day approached he found his free time ever shrinking. Only yesterday he had carried load after load of game, large and small, from all around the mountain to feed his mate and future children. A great smokehouse had been built with his own two hands to accommodate the daily demands for meat, its smoldering fires having not stopped for weeks now.

But today would see it all worth his efforts.

Another scream of birthing pains rattled through the walls of his sturdy nest, stunning him with its shrillness as he clutched Vibra's hand. His fingers were sore and twisted with the force of her grip as she bore down and pushed.

Between the shimmering white thighs, glistening with color where moisture touched her feathers, he could see her flesh distending. A peek of deep scarlet flesh heralded the coming of the first egg, passing through an opening that had never been exposed to anything more than fluids and fingers. Luckily, despite his fears, Andris had seen this before. He whispered words of encouragement and comfort to his mate, his heart fluttering as he glimpsed the first peek of the silver-pink shell emerging from her slickened passage.

Vibra grunted with effort, her normally fine features scrunched as if they too were working to force the egg from her. Her breath came quickly through her nostrils and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes waiting to streak down in a cascade of color along her cheeks.

The first egg came with a squirting sound as it was ejected along with a copious amount of clear, slick fluid. Immediately Vibra relaxed, though she knew the ordeal was far from over. Gasping for breath, she fought the urge to lean forward and check that her egg was safe.

"The first is out of you and safe in the nest," Andris said with love and pride, "the rest should be much easier now. Worry not; I'll keep the shells from striking."

Vibra had only a moment to breathe and consider her child's safety before the next contraction stole her concentration away. Pressure, it felt mostly of great pressure now. The pain was mostly behind, more like an afterimage left when one closed their eyes on a bright day. The first egg had been by far the most difficult, though its passage had paved the way for the second that followed closely behind. Shouting out in her strain, Vibra pushed with all her might.

"I have the second egg my love!" Andris beamed, "As beautiful as the first and safe from harm!"

Another moment of breathing and relaxation, made sweeter by the ease of the second egg's passing. More than anything she felt thirsty just then, her mouth dry from panting and shouting. With very little warning the third contraction came upon her, the third egg forcing her nethers open once again as the muscles within pushed the new life forth into the nest. Now the pain had faded from all but the edges of Vibra's mind, calming her with the knowledge that the next eggs would be so very much easier.

Out came the fourth, sliding even easier than those that preceded it, into Andris' waiting hands. Never had he felt more delighted than as he set his fourth child aside the others. For a moment he reflected on the many lost opportunities to witness this miracle of life with his previous mates. With them it had been nothing but mating and nest-making. No love, no enjoyment, and a simple departure as the time came near for laying. What a wondrous person this Vibra was! The first female with whom he had ever even exchanged names!

But now, something was wrong. Vibra could feel it within her. There was another egg, but try though she might, it simply would not come! Pain returned, but deeper within, a twisting ache that threatened to set her screaming without stop. Worse yet, she couldn't bring herself to speak. Her face contorted into a mask of agony that only allowed Andris to see that she suffered. She struggled to push, her muscles spasming desperately, searching for something upon which to grip.

"Aaluran! Oh please my god, help!" Vibra managed to scream at last as her mind fought through the pain.

And in an instant, the hermaphrodite deity answered.

***

Suddenly, the pain was gone. I was adrift in a senseless field of shimmering light. There was a presence all around me, smothering me though I could still find breath. It was then I noticed that I could not feel anything of my own body. I tried to look at myself for anything; hands, feet, feathers... nothing was there, not even the end of my beak which I only ever really noticed when I crossed my eyes. Try though I might, I could not find myself.

But before me stood a figure that glowed with light. And around this figure flew dozens, hundreds, thousands of figures like motes of dust through a sunbeam. These beings, I felt, were beneath my attention. These were the servants of the god that stood before me upon nothing at all. I tried to focus on the great being I knew to be Aaluran, to glimpse the face that lie beyond the mask.

It was Andris standing before me, but it was also myself. Reflected in that figure was a merging of my form and his, a perfect being of gold and silver, male and female whose face was a mask shaped half as me and half as him. A god may have limitless power, or so it is told by theologists of every faith and stripe, but today my god had decided to take the form of its servant.

"Blessed child." came a voice blended of mine and Andris' but yet distinct and unique, "Congratulations on your motherhood."

Would that I could have knelt, I would have then. But even as I thought this thing I knew it was only a reaction to divine presence. No sooner did I think it before Aaluran spoke again.

"I appreciate your love and your worship, but I do not wish obeisance of you. I am here because of your future. That which my beloved Elenyra spoke to you but that from which you turned away. I need you Vibra."

Aaluran needed me?! I could not believe those words at first, though the truth burned at my doubting heart. An all-powerful deity not asking, not demanding, but pleading. One bold statement that so many would consider a weakness, an admission of frailty. A god should so easily be able to cause a worshiper to do as it wished that the thought of asking or needing seemed foreign.

"I would not force myself upon one who loves me," said Aaluran, as if detecting my very thoughts, "My followers must come from freedom, for my passions cannot be bound. I require that any who do things on my behalf do so willingly and without doubt."

Understanding flooded through my mind. Aaluran was about the freedom of love, the hope for change, and the joy of passions embraced. I might pay lip-service my whole life, but if I did not take to heart these ideals I would only be lying to myself. But now that I knew, I found all the doubt fleeing from me. I had heard the messages given by the Conclave upon the divine grace of the Sacred Lover but now those messages stood before me. Of course I would help! Of course I would be there for my god, just as my god was here for me.

A smile found its way across Aaluran's features.

"I have sent someone to find you. He will come seeking to fulfill tasks. You will know him because he will seem a monster. Others will shun him and be afraid, for he is disturbing to behold and looks as though the dead walk. You shall go to him and comfort him. He will know you by this and together you shall forge a new future. With your help, my goals will be furthered and great love and passion will be rich upon the land. All this is what I need of you, but what I require most of all is your willingness to help me."

My heart was filled with wonder and joy. I would help a deity and in return the bounty of the god of love and passion would open to me. But something inside, a lingering doubt. What would become of my children? What would become of Andris and my friends? How could I throw my life aside to be this divine instrument?

"The one I spoke of will not arrive for some time. For now you should tend to your children and love your mate. Help them to flourish and teach them of my love. Your life shall always be your own, for I am a god of freedom. You may choose as you wish for your future, but know only that no plan is ever without its trials. There is much that will happen, both tragic and joyous, no matter which path you should take. However, with my path you might yet find more happiness than sorrow."

With that, and for one glorious moment, I was shown every path my life might take. Every avenue of possibility and potential. The understanding of the divine was laid before me, bare that I might know what this choice would make. Aaluran's path lay before me, a gold and silver braid stretching and blossoming into untold glorious futures all surrounded by an infinity of other paths, some just as glorious and others incredibly more tragic. Some ended immediately, my birthing having caused my death then and there, while others stretched out through so much time I could not recognize myself for age.

But then it all retracted, the knowledge, the certainty, all rolled back into the mortal 'now' as it was known to me. I forgot all of the truths I had learned, all of it shielded from the potential meddling and total indecision of a mortal. I was simply me again, uncertain what would happen even in the next second, much less toward the end of my life. What did remain, though, was the experience and the certainty of my decision.

***

"It's out!" shouted Andris, elated that his fifth egg now sat slimy in his hands. "Oh my dearest, you wonderful one, five eggs all safe!"

Vibra had never felt so exhausted. Though at the same time, she had never felt so relived. It was over. All her eggs were out and safe. The air seemed to shimmer as she rolled off the birthing pillows Andris had prepared. Grunting with effort and aided by her mate's gentle yet strong hands, Vibra moved to see the fruit of her labors.

A nest full of the most beautiful eggs she had ever beheld. Her eggs. Hers and Andris', and by the grace of Aaluran they were all safe.

Then, in a rush, her memory of the divine encounter returned. A flood of awareness filled her mind, finishing with the certainty of her decision.

"My dear Andris," she panted, "For now I must rest, but when I awaken we have much to speak of.