The Gorgon Experience Verse I
Okay, if you guys can upload stories of people turning into dragons, I can upload this story of a herm Gorgon, done for the futanari sites way back in 2008. I've always had a big interest in mythology, and I read a lot of Greek mythology when I was a kid. The story of Perseus and Medusa was always a favorite. To me the best Medusa will always be Ray Harryhausen's terrific creation for Clash Of The Titans. Though the pretty one from the remake wasn't bad either. Megara's name, however, is from an old Hammer movie from the 60s called The Gorgon which curiously misnames the three Gorgons as Medusa, Megara, and Lucretia (The Gorgons were Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno. Megara was actually the wife of Hercules, and the only Lucretia I'm familiar with was the notoriously horny Itailian noblewoman). This is a mosnter sized story written back when i thought I could write long story driven porn and still have people read it. I have since realized my mistake. There is a second part to this story as well. Pleas comment if you like this story or a gorgon with visit you in the night.
THE GORGON EXPERIENCE
Verse I.
By Hardcover
The water splashed rhythmically on the bow of the boat as it slipped forward through the thick humid fog. I peered out into grey, formless gloom, straining to see in front of me. The outboard motor groaned noisily as it pushed the small boat forward, ever so slowly. I could see, just barely, the outline of the approaching island. Looming up out of the fog, it beckoned to me with a sinister silence, an invitation not spoken aloud, but felt through the sticky, warm fog that surrounded the island. With any luck, this was the place, the destination I had sought so fervently for such a long time.
We were near the equator, far off the coast of South America, in an area out at sea that sported a number of small uncharted islands known only to local fishermen. Deep in the Pacific Ocean, we were slipping in through a rocky bunch of outcroppings that prevented the large boat I had chartered from making the approach, thus requiring the use of the small one that I and my guide Enrique were using. We had set sail from the southern most tip of Ecuador, following Enrique and his crew deep into this distant island chain that few knew about. I was interested in one particular island that the locals referred to as La Sangre de Serpientes: "The Blood Of Serpents". The Island we were heading for now. The field is where I belonged, as I was just as outdoorsman in my personality as I was bookworm.
But allow me to introduce myself: I am Dr. James Turnbuckle. I have black hair that I keep brushed back, and dark brown eyes. I keep clean shaven, even this far out in the field. I'm in reasonably good shape, keeping a daily work out regimen. I was born in London, England, but I have spent the better part of the last ten years as a professor of mythological studies at Berkley University, Berkley being one of the few places where a man with such radical theories as mine might still find some acceptance. The thing was, my research into the myths of the ancient world had led me to believe that quite of few of them might have actually been based on fact. That, in fact, some of these creatures might have actually existed or might even still exist. It was the kind of idea that got me invited to leave Oxford, eventually finding myself in sunny California where cannabis addled students and teachers were a little bit more open to my ideas.
The current expedition that I was on concerned old Greek mythology. After a lot of research and investigation, I had come to believe that the mysterious and shunned island known as La Sangre de Serpientes was the true location of the fabled Island Of The Dead: The home of the notorious Gorgons. And if that was true, the obscure texts I had consulted had led me to believe that it might also house the Eye Of Demeter, a large engraved amulet that could lead me to some even greater discoveries.
I stared out at the boat, wiping my brow in the heat. I was dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans, hiking boots, and kaki button up shirt. My gear was all stored in my back pack. I peered out into the gloom watching the island take shape, looming out of the darkness in a way that brought up memories of King Kong on late night TV. The licking sounds of the water splashed against the bottom of the boat. Enrique continued silently guiding the boat. He had been talkative and friendly for most of the trip, but had grown silent as soon as we neared the island.
I glanced back at him. He was one of those worldly men of the sea, with eyes that sparkled with intelligence and experience. He had shipped up and down the Americas for almost forty years, from the coast of Washington to the tip of Chile, and knew the seas in ways that most men only dream of. He was the sort of man who would have been showered with an air of mystique in the old days, when sailors traveled to lands most people could only dream about.
Finally, the fog cleared and I could see the island in front of me. It rose up before me, bleak and threatening, filling me with dread and anticipation. Böcklin himself couldn't have depicted a more desolate and lifeless isle. And yet, the island was packed with dense foliage and trees, full to the hilt with dark green leaves, but they somehow seemed as lifeless and barren as the rocks themselves. Most of the island seemed to be surrounded by jagged dangerous outcroppings of rock that made approach impossible, but I spied a small beach on which we could land, and just a little ways inland, a path seemed to lead into the thick jungle. A path that indicated this island hadn't always been uninhabited.
I gripped the edge of the boat, excited. We had all heard the story before: The Gorgons were once three beautiful sisters: Euryale, Sthenno, and the famous Medusa. They were the daughters of Phorcys and Ceto, and were said to be as lovely as any women in the world. Tragedy befell them when they invoked the anger of the goddess Athena, goddess of wisdom. How changes depending on which version of the story you hear, but the most common version is that Medusa made love with Poseidon, god of the sea, in Athena's temple. This angered Athena so much that she cursed all three sisters, turning them into monstrous creatures with snakes for hair that would turn all who gazed on them into stone, and banishing them to the Island Of The Dead, where they guarded the entrance to the underworld.
And there they stayed until King Polydektes of Seriphos commanded the young hero Perseus to fetch the head of Medusa. He accomplished this with the help of the gods who equipped him with a reflective shield, curved sword, winged boots and helm of invisibility. When he fell upon Medusa and decapitated her, two creatures sprang forth from the wound - the winged horse Pegasus and the giant Khrysaor. Perseus fled with the monster's head in a sack, and with her two angry sisters following close upon his heels.
Descriptions of the Gorgons differed from story to story, with some saying that they were so hideous and frightful to look at that one turned to stone instantly, while others saying that they were still beautiful and seductive despite the snakes and turned men to stone by means of a cursed gaze. Who knew what the reality was? But it was my intention to dig up evidence of the truth.
Truth be told, I had another reason for wanting to hurry on this one. I had competition: A German archeologist name Hanz Tollber was also seeking the Island Of The Dead. I had crossed paths with Tollber several times in the past, and our differences were a lot more then professional. Tollber was a glorified treasure hunter, who wasn't above letting someone else find an artifact and then simply stealing it from them. I hated the man with a passion.
The boat landed on shore with a slight jerk. Grabbing my backpack I hopped off the boat and onto the sandy beach, eying the path through the trees. It was definitely cut by human hands. Someone had once lived on this island that was for sure. I wished I'd had a full excavation crew with me, but this wasn't the sort of expedition the university would pay for, so this trip it was only me and Enrique. Going out on my own was a risky venture, but I knew my way around surviving in the wild, and this was the only way to investigate this sort of crypto zoology. All I had to do was document something of historical significance, and I could return with the proper resources.
I turned to Enrique, "All right, I'm going to start investigating up that path. Would you care to give me a hand?"
Enrique had remained seated in the boat, "Oh, no. You're on your own with this one, friend. I agreed to show you to the island and bring you here. That I've done, but I've heard far too many stories of sailors who wandered into those forests and never returned. You look like you know your own way around survival, but if you're crazy enough to go into those woods, that's your own decision. However, I am not crazy enough to follow you."
"That's a shame." I told him, "I was hoping for some help. You wouldn't want to be a part of some amazing discovery? I could sweeten the deal with some extra cash?"
"No thank you." He held up his hands, "I just want to get back to my family so they can benefit from your already generous check. I'll stay here and wait for you. I'll give you twelve hours. You're not back at the boat before then; you'll liable to have a pretty long stay on this god forsaken place."
I shrugged, "Suit yourself. I hope you brought a book."
"And crossword puzzles. Don't worry about me, worry about yourself. Are you really so set on going into that place?"
"I sure am. There's a chance the discovery of a lifetime is in there somewhere."
"Then farewell, man. And good luck, you'll need it."
I turned away and began across the beach and into the path. I was a little puzzled by Enrique's reluctance. In the time that I had known him, he had always been very practical, and at all likely to be prone to superstition. I shrugged and moved on: In all likelihood, I told myself, Enrique didn't survive so long at sea by brazenly charging in to places he'd been warned about. On a quest in the Caribbean a long time ago, many a guide had told me that it never pays to ignore native superstition: There was usually a factual reason for it. That was probably true here in South America as well. I decided it would be wise not to penetrate too deeply into the trees.
I followed the rocky overgrown path for a while, surrounded on all sides by thick trees and vines. Ordinarily, with such lush vegetation, you would hear the jungle alive around you; a million forms of life each giving out their own unique sounds. Here, I heard nothing: This jungle was completely silent except for my footsteps and the wind blowing through the trees. I was reminded again of those four "Isle of the Dead" paintings by Böcklin, and I shivered inward. But I kept on, determined to wring some hint of the truth out of this trip.
I stopped for a second and looked down: The dirt road wasn't dirt anymore, it was stone. Hand laid stone, in fact, making a rock path. Excited, I followed the pathway further, pulling out my digital camera and documenting. Somewhere up ahead, I could hear the sound of water running.
For a while the path continued until I came to a long flight of stone steps leading upwards at a steep angle. I climbed the steps, noticing small outcroppings on either side. The steps were surrounded on both sides by the thick jungle like the path. Looking off to my side, I could still perceive nothing on either side. The steps took me up to the top of a small hill, and from there, I could see light. I hurried up the steps, anxious to see what lay beyond this unwholesome tangle of trees and shrubs.
I caught my breath as I emerged: I had come out into a wide clearing on top of the hill, in the middle of which sat the ruins of what had once probably been a magnificent temple. Huge pillars and domes adorned to massive structure, in front of which lay a large wide courtyard filled with numerous sections.
The water I had heard came from a stream running in front of the temple. A huge intricately carved stone bridge with wide railing led across it. I pointed my camera, being sure to capture every aspect of the splendid find. It looked as if it not been seen by human eyes for years. Again I was reminded of the Böcklin paintings, and again I shivered. The empty, silent walls seemed oppressive somehow, and vacant. In a way, almost sad, as if the very walls mourned their loneliness.
I looked into viewer of my camera and notice a strange bulge just behind on of the domes of the temple. It was an odd sculpture of some kind, too far away to really see, but it almost reminded me of my neighbors HD Direct TV satellite dish. I chuckled to myself, not bloody likely that this place had free cable. I strolled forward on the bridge, examining the structure and carving. My heart leapt as I recognized it as ancient Greek architecture. I was definitely on the right path. I walked across the bridge and stopped dead in my tracks.
I could see a life sized stone statue at the end of the bridge, near the left side railing. As I approached, I realized that the position was odd, not common for work of sculpture. The statue was of a man, dressed in classical Greek robes. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the detail stunning. But as I said, it was the figure's pose that was disturbing. One arm gripped the railing, as if the man was trying to steady himself. The other arm was raised in front of his face, like he was trying to shield himself from something. He legs were spread wide in either direction in what looked like it might have been a painful way.
But it was his face that was the worst. The stone features were twisted and contorted with a mix of extreme agony and unimaginable fear. On closer examination the eyes seemed rolled up in the sockets, and the mouth open wide, frozen forever like he had seen something horrible.
I stared: Was it possible? Could it be that this was not a statue at all, but rather the remains of some poor soul who wandered onto this island and fell victim to the legendary Gorgons? I shuddered, a chill running through my body. I moved on past the grotesque statue and into the courtyard.
There were more statues here, scattered about. All in poses that echoed agonizing pain. As I examined each one I became aware that not all of them seemed to be of the ancient Greeks. On one side I found the form of a man dressed in ancient Arabic garb, holding a scimitar and looking for all the world like something right out of a Sinbad tale. On another side, I found a soldier from Napoleon's army, his hand on his sword, permanently unable to draw it forth. I became more suspicious then ever that these figures had to have been, at one time, human beings.
I stopped on the far right, transfixed by the statue I saw there. My stomach actually lurched when I saw it: A woman, wearing robes in the old Roman cut, her face a permanent contortion of horrific convulsions . . . holding the screaming form of a baby in her arms. I backed away from what I was looking at, horrified at its implications.
I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Surely the horrors that had once inhabited this island were no longer here. Then, I spotted something in the far left corner.
A stone figure was sprawled on the floor, its back up against the wall. Like the others, it was horribly twisted, as if seized by pain that was unimaginable. But what drew my attention was what I could make out on the arm: The unmistakable outline of a swastika. Moving closer, I could see that the figure was dressed in a full Nazi SS uniform. With a shock, I realized that I recognized the face, I had seen pictures of him: It was Günter Krieger, a high ranking SS officer, and participant in Hitler's occult instigations. He had disappeared shortly before the end of the war after setting out in a U-Boat from Berlin on some secret unnamed mission. Rumor had suggested he was looking for some kind of weapon Hitler thought might win the war.
To the left of him, there was a small flight of steps leading down into a larger courtyard. I stood at the top and looked down. This larger courtyard was filled with statues, hundreds of them, from almost every period in history you could think of. About midway in the wall of the temple, there was a door. It seemed to be, as far as I could tell, the only entrance into the temple.
I carefully went down the steps and into the larger courtyard, moving my camera and documenting as much of it as I could. The stone effigies were deeply disturbing in their appearance; so many horror-struck faces, so much unbearable hurt and suffering. Some, I saw, were Chinese and Japanese warriors. Others seemed to be pirates right out of the great age of piracy. I even found a few monks. And most frightening of all, a few modern looking figures that were no doubt the missing sailors Enrique had told me about. So many people, struck down in their search for the secrets of this island.
Common sense should have told me not to enter the temple door. But my need and desire to learn the truth of this discovery was driving me forward. Stupid, I know. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread and all that, but unless you've felt that all consuming drive to learn and to discover, you can't really understand why I plowed ahead, all by myself, into that long decaying structure.
The educated fool, that was me.
I stepped into the large stone archway. Thick blocks lined the side, and the entrance came to an arrow head like point above my head. Quickly, I retrieved my torch (or as you Americans like to call it, my flashlight) from my pack and turned it on, viewing the other side through my camera rather then with my eyes at first. A small narrow hall led forward into the temple. I started in, cautiously.
About halfway in, I found another statue. This one sprawled on its back, stretching out the length of the hallway. This was another man dressed in ancient Greek attire, but this one was in a soldier's armor. A Spartan, from the looks of him. The figure wore a breast plate and tunic, on his head wore the traditional crested helmet. A shield was gripped in his arm, and his other hand grasped a short sword that was pointed towards the wall. Like the other's, his face was horrifying to look at.
As I looked closer, I could see that the soldier had used the last of his life to scrawl something in the stone with the tip of his sword. When terrible strength this man must have possessed to complete this act in what was obviously such terrible agony. I shined my light on the scratch marks. They were words, in Greek: ????????? ??? ????? M?????. "Fear the curse of Megara". I blinked, surprised at what I read. In Greek mythology, Megara ("great houses") was the oldest daughter of Creon, king of Thebes. In reward for Heracles' defending Thebes from Orchomenos in single-handed battle, Creon offered his daughter Megara to Heracles and he brought her home to the house of Amphitryon.She bore him a son and a daughter,whom Heracles killed when Hera struck him with temporary madness; in their hero-tombs in Thebes they were venerated as the Chalkoarai, "Those on whom fell a curse of bronze". In some sources Heracles slew Megara too, in others; she was given to Iolaus when Heracles left Thebes forever. She had absolutely nothing to do with the tale of Peruses and the Gorgons.
I stepped over the stone body of the warrior, and proceeded further down the hall. At the far end, I found another doorway, this one a simple rectangular opening and I stepped through.
As soon as I entered, a chill ran up my spine. I had the immediate sensation that I was being watched.
The door led to a large wide high ceilinged room, almost like a lounge of some kind. The room was dark and the only light was from my flashlight which I shined around. The door led in from the south wall on the right hand side. The room was tiled in marble, and a small shallow rectangular pool lay in the center of the place. Six pillars, three on each side, each square and of dark marble, ran up to the ceiling with sat high above. Detailed frescos adorned the walls all around me, depicting scenes of mythological battles. Unlit torches lined the walls at angles.
On the far side, against the north wall, the floor raised a little and a large heavy wooden door was set in the right hand side. Starting at about the mid point of the north wall a flight of steps led up to the west to a small landing and then another flight let up north until it reached a balcony. Along the steps was a stone railing, with thin struts holding up, but the balcony had a completely solid wall about three feet high along it. Against the East wall at the end of the balcony, I could see the outline of a heavy wooden door. Just to the right of the end of the balcony against the East wall, there was a rectangular window. There was definitely another room in there.
All around, were couches of stone with built in cushions on them, prsumably for guests of the temple to sit and relax. But what struck me as particularly odd was that the room didn't seem to be in disrepair, as if someone had been maintaining this for a long time. There didn't even seem to be any cobwebs or dust.
There were more statues here, much fewer then in the courtyard, but they were there.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I took a step into the room. And that's when I heard it: Hissing, as from snakes. And A lot of it.
I took a step back and scanned the room with my flashlight, looking through my camera and not with my eyes. Soon I saw the source of the hissing. Lots of snakes slithered here and there, snakes of the regular kind. I let out a sigh of relief, but I decided not to go further into the temple just yet. I would start my investigation here. After all, whoever was maintaining this room was bound to come by eventually.
I dropped my pack to the floor and removed a few things. I set the flashlight down and instead turned on the light on my camera, which gave a good enough light. I also pulled out the large machete I'd brought with me, which I knew I might need. Then I pulled out my main piece of defense: Seven rolled up paper "mirrors", made of a high reflective poster paper that I attached with mounting tape to the walls and pillars strategically around the room, to give me a clear view no matter where I was. That task finished, I shut off the light on my camera and crouched down in the dark next to one of the couches, and waited.
For a long time, I crouched there, not moving. Alone in the darkness, keeping an eye on the snakes, and thinking my thoughts. I wondered about the validity of my quest, whether I was on the proverbial wild goose chase and was wasting my time, or if this was really the discovery I hoped it would be. I wondered what a Gorgon might have truly looked like. The descriptions varied: Would they be hideous like some of the legends, or the beautiful siren like seductress' of others. And for that matter, would I even be able to capture one on tape?
Thoughts abounded through my head over the hours as I patiently waited until my train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a small whooshing sound on the far side. I looked and saw that one of the torches lining the walls had mysteriously lit all by itself and was now burning.
Before I could speculate on how, the other torches began to light, one right after another, traveling around the room like some kind of invisible kindling. Soon the whole place was bathed in the flickering light of the fires, shadows dancing on the walls and as the flames burned. I became aware that the room had suddenly gotten much hotter. Sweat was beading on my forehead. I crouched down low, keeping myself still hidden, my hand covering the light from my camera's monitor.
My heart pounded in my chest, excitement rushed through my mind and fear clawed at my belly. I turned my camera to the door at the bottom of the stairs, looking at it only through the high definition monitor. It was then that I heard the voice, which seemed to come from everywhere in the room at once. A soft, whispering voice, still powerful in its sound, and distinctly feminine.
"Have you come here to slay me, foolish man?" It whispered.
I spoke in English, with what sounded like a slight Greek accent. I stiffened in place and did not reply, staring at the doors. I glanced in one of the mirrors, keeping an eye on the other one up above. All around me the room moved as snakes slithered and hissed.
The voice echoed through the room again, "Well, assassin, have you nothing to say? Did you think you could come all this way to commit my murder? Come to gain fame and glory by taking back the head of the Gorgon? What charming foolishness."
I took a chance, betting on the echo to conceal my whereabouts.
Clearing my throat and trying to sound as diplomatic as possible, I said, "Oh, I did not come to kill you, oh Megara the magnificent. I merely came to have a look at you: to see if you were truly as great of tales said, I did not believe them."
There was a long pause, and then a soft, girlish giggle, "You came all this way, just to quote verbatim from The Hobbit?"
More giggles followed. Somehow, I found the notion of a Gorgon reading Tolkien strange. But it seems I had guessed right, the Megara the Spartan had written about was, in fact, either another name for one of the gorgons, or a previously unknown one. I gripped the camera tight, if I could just get some shots of her. My heart was pounding with excitement.
"I mean you no harm." I replied, "I am a researcher, and I have come here to learn about you, and your sisters. I only wish to meet and speak with you, to learn the truth of your story, and separate the facts from the fiction."
"You lie!" The voice hissed, "You carry a weapon."
"Only a precaution." I said hoping it was in a reassuring manner, "I did not know if I would be welcome."
I kept my camera pointed at the door, hoping to catch a shot of her before I had to run. However, when I glanced at one of the mirrors, I saw something move in the window above. I raised the camera, something was definitely there. I heard movement as something passed the window. There was also a clattering sound, like the kind rattlesnakes make. I licked my lips and held my ground. Icy fingers seemed to crawl up my spine.
There was a groaning sound, and the upper door swung open. I heard a scraping sound and more hisses coming from above. But I saw nothing. Whatever it was, it was low, behind the wall of the balcony. The door slammed shut with a bang that made me jolt.
Along the balcony, I could hear something moving, slowly and out of site, I could hear something scrape along the length, moving towards the stairs. Again, the rattling sounded. Sweat stood out on my forehead, I followed the sounds with my camera as they moved closer and closer to the edge of the steps. I zoomed in at the top of the stairs.
There was a long pause where nothing happened. And then, a hand appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by an arm. It reached out and touched the top, pulling the rest forward. The arms was thin and soft, but was colored a light green shade. The fingernails were black and shiny. A second arm came into view, moving fluidly as it helped pull the rest forward.
And then the head came into view, slipping gracefully into my line of sight, looking down the staircase. I could see the face of the Gorgon for the first time.
Despite what the mythology had said, Megara did have hair. It flowed from her on the sides of her face, in long dark locks that curled at the ends, slightly greenish in its tint. But there they were, pushing through the strands of her hair, writhing on top of her head in perpetual motion, were the snakes. Plenty of serpents growing out of her head just like the legends said. Slightly longer ones seemed to be growing from lower on her head. The snakes moved and twisted about her hair, moving to andfro, hissing and flicking their tongues out.
My camera picked up her face perfectly. She was actually, all things considered, quite beautiful. She had a soft, round face, with wide expressive eyes and thick succulent lips. Her face was green, like the rest of her, and the iris' of her eyes were a bright yellow color. The pupils, however, were think black slits running top to bottom, slightly thicker in the middle.
At first, I thought she was wearing earrings. But then I realized my mistake: On either side of her head, hanging down near her ears, were the unmistakable tales of rattlesnakes. They shook rapidly periodically, making the familiar sound.
The Gorgon pulled her whole body into view at the top of the stairs. I was surprised to note that she was quite naked, being without a stitch of clothing. Her body, for what she was, was fine, with large round but firm breasts and curvy hips with a soft derriere. She had the body of a porn star, and I noted with surprise that her nipples were slightly erect.
She began to crawl down the stairs on all fours, peering warily out into the room. As she traveled downward, I could see a tattoo on her back, of a long snake like dragon that ran from her right shoulder blade all the way down her back, over her right thigh and then curled around her right leg.
She reached the bottom of the first flight and slid around, peering through the struts of the railing, her eyes searching the room. I was confident that I was still hidden. The urge to flee was strong, but I wanted to capture as much of her on film as I could. She crawled down the second flight, gliding spider like on all fours until she reached the floor. She crawled out onto the floor, and finally into full view.
She crouched, leaning frog like and peering into the flickering darkness. Her beautiful breasts were exposed to me, and I felt a twinge of arousal at the sight. My camera traveled down, recording her nudity. I almost cried out when I saw between her legs. There, silhouetted in the gloom, was the instantly recognizable outline of a male penis, dangling between her legs. I blanched at the surprising, unexpected sight of it.
Megarachanged positions slightly, sitting up on her haunches, squatting over the floor, her knees spread wide. Her hands slid over her knees and she stared out, searching for me. I could see tribal like tattoos surrounding her belly button and what looked like a piercing. She leaned slightly over to the left as she looked. In this position, her crotch was more in the dim light and I could see more clearly.
I was in for another shock: There, just beneath her male genitals, which I now saw included a freakishly small and tight pair of testicles, was a perfect female vagina. The Gorgon was a hermaphrodite. In the position she was in, it was almost like she had deliberately let me see that about her, as if she was showing it off to me.
Then, Megara stood. No, that's not quiet right: She slithered upwards, swaying her body like a belly dancer as she rose, moving her hips and shoulders in a sensuous back and forth movement until she was completely upright on her feet, her hands at her sides, fingers extended in each direction.
She spoke, her voice clearer now, "Well, if you didn't come to kill me, perhaps you came to steal from me? Is that why you're here, little hero?"
From here, I could tell her voice was lovely: Soft, deep and sensual. Almost like to voice of blues singer in some jazzy nightclub.
"Well, if it's treasure you seek, please be my guest." She giggled, "Come along, thief, help yourself. There's plenty and to spare."
She was baiting me, quoting The Hobbit back at me. She moved forward a bit, remaining on the raised part of the floor, her nakedness displayed with pride. The snakes writhed in her hair, in constant motion. The sound of the rattlers pierced the gloom again, chilling me to the bone.
"I have come only to learn." I said, still confident that the echos would hide me, but speaking softer as to not give away my position, "I wish to meet and speak with you, to hear you story as you would tell it. I mean no offense, but I shall leave if I am not welcome."
I became aware that I was talking like someone out of a bad Steve Reeves movie.
Even through the screen of my camera, I could tell that she didn't believe me. Also, I was still wary of her. The many statues I had found fed my distrust, especially the woman with the baby, seemingly as non threatening a visitor as you could get. I glanced at the door, wondering if I could make it out without Megara popping up in front of me to turn me to stone.
Megarabegan shifting, slowly moving her hips in an alluring manner, coaxing and inviting me with her body. I felt a terrible drawl to her, despite her rather well proportioned penis. The flickering light of the torches played over her body exquisitely.
"Well," Megara cooed, "I'm here. Come on up hear and meet me. Let me see you."
I didn't respond, still thinking of how I could make my escape. The legends spoke of The Gorgons being fast. Even with the winged sandals that let him run as fast as Mercury, Perseus could feel the other Gorgons snapping at his heals. I doubted I'd get anywhere near as far with just an ordinary pair of boots from Wal Mart.
Megaralowered herself down into a crouching position again. She gazed around the room, guardedly. The torches began to dim, rapidly, and after a few seconds had gone out, returning the room to its original darkness. I looked to the front and saw Megara crawl off the raised portion of the floor and into the darkness of the room. My chest rose and fell. Now she couldn't see me, but I couldn't see her.
I listened in the darkness. Thanks to all the damn snakes in here, I heard hissing everywhere. I backed up, with my back to a large cushioned chair. I could hear movement somewhere in front of me. I froze, holding the machete out in front of me, looking through the camera and glancing at the mirrors. I backed up further as the noise, definitely a unified sound of slithering and hissing, moved towards me.
She was out there in front of me, I knew it. I reminded myself not to look at her directly. Only through the camera or the mirrors, her gaze was deadly. The sounds moved closer, coming at me from the right, approaching slowly. I backed up further, and bumped into the chair, suddenly finding myself sitting in it as I fell backwards.
The sounds approached and I pointed the machete. My heart heaved painfully in my chest and fear swarmed through my body. The sound was near, and very close in front of me.
And then, in the dim light from the door, I saw what it was: A cluster of snakes all grouped together, rolling around on the floor. Nothing to worry about, but I had been following the wrong noise. Now I didn't know where she was.
Suddenly, from behind me, and arm reached out and grabbed me, pushing me back in the chair. I screamed, the machete falling from my hands with a loud clang. I heard the hissing of many snakes right next to my head, she was right behind me.
I squeezed my eyes shut desperately, as I felt her leg slide over my side and hold me down as well. I felt her hands holding my shoulders and suddenly she slid over the side and lay down on the right half of my body. I could feel her large, soft breast against my chest. What was worse, I could feel her penis pressing against my thigh. Her face was right near mind, I could hear the snakes, and feel her breath.
"Here I am, honey." She hissed, "Don't you want to learn about me. Open your eyes and take a look."
"Please," I wailed, my eyes shut tight, more frightened then I'd ever been, "Don't kill me. I won't hurt you. I swear, I only came because I was curious."
I couldn't reach the machete. Megara slid over me, pressing her naked body against mine, holding me down. I could feel her face right in front of me. In a second, she was straddling me. And, oh god, I could feel her penis lying against mine through my pants. I struggled but she held me fast. And then, she kissed me. Right on the lips. I felt her forked tongue flick into my mouth. I felt her rise up.
And then I felt a sharp pain as she dug into my shoulder with her finger nail. I yelped in surprise and my eyes flew open. With horror, I realized that I was staring her right in the face. I cried out and tried to prepare myself for the agony. How painful it was going to be turn to stone: this was it, I was done for. My life ended here in waves of pain, alone on the god forsaken island, yet another victim of the notorious Island Of The Dead.
But nothing happened.
A small smile spread across Megara's face, "The stone thing only works when I want it."
A massive flood of relief filled me. I would get to live. For now, at any rate.
She wiggled her hips on top of me, rubbing her dual genitals against mine, "But I have been known to make men hard a totally different way."
She giggled teasingly, running her hands over me, "You're kinda cute."
She ran her eyes over my camera, and the note pad and pens in my shirt pocked. Eyeing me up and down, she put one hand to her mouth.
"Oh, wow." She said, "You actually did come here to learn about me."
She leaned forward against me, studying my face. As she did so, her hips rolled against mine. I became aware with a chill that my penis had begun to stiffen a little; having her on me like this was turning me on. Megara looked over my face with her yellow snake's eyes, her voluptuous breasts pressed against me.
"What's you're name?" She inquired.
"Uh, I'm Dr. James Turnbuckle. I'm professor of mythological studies at Berkley University in California." I explained.
Megaragasped and a wide smile spread across her face. At first I thought that she was missing two incisors, until I realized that they were bent backwards into her mouth. Good god, they were a pair of fangs, just like a snake had. It was so bizarre, freakish and unnatural, and yet this creature was managing to arouse me. I felt confused and a little ashamed of my reaction. Megara didn't notice; an excited gleam in her eyes.
"OMG! I know you! I've read you books!" She exclaimed.
That's exactly what she said, by the way: She literally said "Oh em gee". That surprised me, but what was even more surprising was that she'd read my books. It wasn't like there was a Barnes & Nobel on this island somewhere. That thought was interrupted when she suddenly planted another long wet kiss on my lips. After she broke it, she clapped her hands excitedly.
"You rock! You work is some of the best stuff out there about creatures like me. You've come closer to the truth then any of the stuffy unimaginative stiffs that usually write about us." She pushed herself up into a sitting position.
"Yes, well, thank you. I'm sorry to bother you; I'll just be going now." I stammered attempting to sit up. She held me down with her legs.
"No, no, no!" She waved a finger at me, which seemed serpent like in its motion as well, "No, stay here. Interview me. Study me. Ask me lots of questions."
Finally, she got off me, her penis dangling in front of her comically, "In fact, why do you come up to my private room and you can interview me there: one on one."
She winked at me. Oh boy. She grabbed both my hands in hers and pulled me, again getting close to me. As I stood, I realized that she was actually quite shorter then me, and I was looking down at her. She smiled wickedly.
"Common, James." She told me, "I'll show you my own private lair. Come with me, you'll have fun.
She took me by the hand and led me to the stone steps. She swung her hips (again, serpent like) as she waked, giving her naked rear end a pleasant wiggle. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me looking at her. She smiled and winked again. I hesitated at the foot of the steps, unsure of what I should do.
Megarawent back to me and slid a hand around me waist, pulling me forward, "Oh, don't be such worrywart. I'll be nice and gentle with you, and you'll come back with all sorts of good stuff to write about, 'kay?"
She kissed me on the cheek as she took me up the steps and across the balcony, into the small door she had originally appeared out of. This led to more rooms and hallways and eventually to a large wooden door that differed from the others. It differed because it was painted pink, and a large heart shaped plaque stated in red letters, "Megara's room". I blinked; it looked like the door to some teenager's bedroom.
Megaraopened the door and we went in. The room was huge, made up of stone blocks for the walls, and stone tiles on the floor, but aside from that, this did not look like the lair of a monstrous Gorgon. In fact, it resembled to room of some Hollywood producer or movie star. Posters from various movies hung in frames on the walls, everything from golden age film noir to The Matrix decorated the walls. There were three large black couches set in a horseshoe shape in the middle of the room.
On the wall next to the door, there sat a large 52" HDTV with several different electronic components attached to it. I blinked when I noticed that one of them was a direct TV HD satellite receiver. Oh, my god, that WAS a Direct TV satellite dish I saw on the dome before! Who in the world hooked this up for her? The thought that the repairmen might be some of the permanent residents of the courtyard occurred to me and I shuddered.
"Um . . . I see you've got Direct TV?" I said, hoping to shed some light on the fact.
"Oh, yes. God forbid I should miss Weeds." Was Magara's only response.
Across from me, I could see a large computer set up, which looked top of the line: widescreen HD monitor and all. I noticed that it was hooked up with a LAN. How the hell did she get high speed broadband internet way the hell out here?
Right next to it was an impressive looking stereo set, with speakers that could have put Stonehenge to shame. Music was playing softly out of the speakers. Was that . . . Tom Jones?
A million questions were buzzing through me brain. Megara walked over to a table with contained a decanter and several glasses. She poured something from the decanter into to glasses and came back to me, offering me one. The liquid inside was a soft golden color. It looked and smelled like brandy. I took the glass politely.
Megaraclicked her glass against mine, "To discovery."
I nodded, I could drink to that. However, I waited until she drank first before I took a sip. Definitely brandy, but it had a flavoring I was unfamiliar with. I didn't drink because I thought it was a good idea, but mainly because I had a lingering feeling that pissing off the Gorgon was a potentially lethal thing to do, despite how friendly she was being.
More questions buzzed in my head, I didn't know where to start. What questions should I ask a living breathing Gorgon? So much to learn, I knew I had to ask her something of deep scientific importance.
"So, I guess you like to be naked?" I asked her idiotically.
I wanted to clap my hand over my head and do a Homer Simpson "D'oh!" as soon as I asked it. But Megara simply smiled warmly at the question.
"Yes, I do." She replied, "It's in our nature. We find clothes bothersome. I bet you don't mind it that much do you?"
I blushed a little at that, and shook my head. She smiled back at me and gestured for me to sit on the couch. I did so, sitting on the far end and putting my empty glass on an end table next to it. The couch was soft and comfortable, and looked very expensive. In fact, the whole room looked like it was filled with expensive things. Where, I wondered, did Megara get all her money? It looked like she was loaded.
Instead of sitting across from me, Megara sat down right next to me, sliding up close to my leg, looking at me with that mischievous grin that unnerved me and attracted me all at the same time. I was still struck by her amazing beauty, augmented by her naked body in full view. I was being very careful not to look down her crotch and the unsettling fact that she had a cock. Also, I was finding the constant hissing coming from the top of her head a bit distracting. I took a deep breath, and began to interview her.
A lot of surprising facts came out of the next couple hours. Megara sat close to me, cheerfully, and enthusiastically answered all me questions, speaking in detail. She was frank, open, and eager to discuss the history of her particular species. To begin with, Megara was a second generation Gorgon: Her mother was the Gorgon Euryale of ancient myth. Like any woman, she bristled at the question of her actual age, but she'd obviously been alive for a very long time. She had no clue who or what her father might have been.
All Gorgons, it seemed, were hermaphrodites. Megara, however, liked the "cuter" (in her opinion) term "futa", a word having something to do with Japanese porn comics. Megara luridly described how she had full use of both her organs, and could achieve an orgasm with each one separately, a fact she was apparently quite proud of.
Surprisingly, it turned out, apparently, that all three original Gorgons were still alive. The myth that Medusa had been mortal, and thus killed by Perseus, turned out to be false: Perseus had, in fact, taken off with Medusa's still living head. Sometime after his marriage to Andromeda, Perseus, who had been overcome with guilt since first realizing the severed head he'd born as a prize was alive and conscious, returned her head to her body, which repaired itself allowing the Gorgon to live again. After that, The Gorgons became allies with Perseus and Andromeda, and rallied to defense of Seriphos whenever needed.
The Island Of The Dead, it turned out, contained many artifacts, some of which, apparently, were so deadly that they could never fall into the hands of greedy, destructive humans. And so, at least one of the Gorgons had to remain on the island in turn to guard it. Not twenty four seven, it seems, since Megara would spend long periods away from the island, but someone had to check up on it on a regular basis. It seemed the monstrous Gorgons were not so bad after all.
When I started to ask her about The Eye Of Demeter, she suddenly became less talkative. She claimed she'd never heard of it, but I got the impression she might be lying.
The most shocking thing about the whole interview was the fact that quite a few characters and creatures of myth apparently still lived among us to this day. Quite the mind bender of revelation, though truth be told, my mind was bending all on its own.
I felt drunk, and weirdly giddy. More so then just plain brandy should have caused. I was now worried about what exactly she'd put in that glass. Megara seemed to notice the change and pushed up close to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders. I tensed up at the contact, but an uncontrollable electric charge ran through me. She rolled up next to me, pushing her breasts against my arm.
"That's enough interviewing for now," She cooed, "Wouldn't you like to just get to know me better? I mean, you did come all this way."
She began to stroke my chest with her hand. I couldn't seem to fight her, my body was betraying me, and the sensations of her caresses were weakening my resistance to her. I became aware of the myths that Gorgons seduced men to their doom. I was frightened at first until I realized that Megara could have killed me at any time while we were here.
With a start, I realized that I was now hard, pushing through my jeans. What was worse was that Megara had noticed it as well. She looked down at the bulge and smiled impishly, rolling one leg over me, moving her body against mine. The rattles near her ears moved rapidly, sounding the clattering sound. It was like she was giving me a lap dance. She moved sensually on me, her lips close to mine.
"I want you to experience every inch of me." She said softly.
And then she kissed me, deeply on the lips, letting her forked tongue slip into my mouth. The sounds of the snakes near my head were disorienting, but it was like I had no control. I kissed her back, letting my arms run along her back. She kissed deep and passionately, and then broke the kiss, looking lustily into my eyes.
"Uh . . . maybe I should be getting back." I stammered. "I don't want my guide to leave without me."
Megarareplied, "He said he'd wait twelve hours, it's only been four."
How did she know that, I wondered?
She went on, "Besides, you can't leave now, look at what you're doing to me."
I kind of froze when I realized that Magara's penis was now fully erect, pushing against mine through my pants. Despite myself, I found my body responding to it, tingling with pleasure and the feel of her cock against mine. I had never been gay, and it was disturbing to respond to it like that. She kissed me on the lips over and over again, and I returned them, wrapping my arms around her green form.
"Why don't we go into the bedroom?" Megara suggested.
I nodded, not saying a world. Instead of getting up and walking to the bedroom, Megara slid off my lap, and crawled towards the bedroom on all fours, stopping briefly to look over her shoulder at me with the proverbial "come fuck me" look. Her ears rattled. She crawled to the other side of the room, to a wide doorway that was obscured by an old fashioned beaded curtain. She pushed through them and into the room.
I followed her, no longer wishing to resist, my penis throbbing with desire in my pants. Slowly, I approached the doorway, pushing the beads apart and entering the room with the sound of the jeweled strings lightly banging into each other I as moved them aside.
The room was dark.
I heard Megara's voice, "Light switch is to your left."
I felt around and found the switch and flicked it up, letting the lights come on.
I found myself in a round room, the walls all painted a deep red color. There was a wide make-up vanity on one side, and a small closet for clothes on the other (given Megara's preference for nudity, I suspected it would be fairly empty). Another large set of top of the line electronics. TV, DVD/Blue ray/stereo ect, was present as well as four massive speakers around the room. Large and wide mirrors were placed about the room.
In the center, was a large heat shaped bed, colored the same deep red, with four posts and a heart shaped awning over it. It rotated on some kind of motor, turning it slowly like the tray in a microwave oven.
The ceiling of the room was domed, and painted like stars. In the center of it, a large disco ball hung down, spreading the flickering lights over the room. There was multicolored track lighting on the walls that flashed different colors, in addition to standard lighting. I noticed lava lamps on the vanity. Oh my god, it was like were in John Travolta's bachelor bad from the 70s.
Music poured out of the speakers . . . Bad Girls by Donna Summer.
Out of all the things I had thought I might experience upon finding this island, a horny disco Gorgon had not entered my mind.
The Gorgon lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs up in the air, moving playfully, her head propped up on her hands.
Megarabeckoned me over seductively with one finger, "Come on over here, Doc."
I started to approach, Megara rolled over on her back, moving erotically, displaying her erection to me. As I said, I had never been gay, but I was suddenly fascinated by it. Megara reached out one hand for mine.
She sang, "Bad girl. Bad girl. I'm such a dirty bad girl."
Scratch that: She sang horribly, completely out of key. It would seem that the ageless Gorgon was quite tone deaf. And I'm pretty sure those were the wrong lyrics.
I took her hand and got onto the bed with her. To my surprise, I realized that the bed was also a waterbed. I bobbed up and down with motion of the water. She rose up and kissed me, pulling me to her, the sound of the snakes in her hair surrounding me as I kissed her lips. I didn't care about it anymore, I was so stoned on whatever she had given me that I only wanted to have this unique creature in front of me.
Megararolled me on my back and unbuttoned my shirt, rapidly. Looking up, I could see that the underside of the bed's awning was covered with mirrors. Soon she had my shirt open and tossed it aside, running her hands through my chest hair, playing with my nipples. Her odd forked tongue licked her lips as she started to undo my pants. She quickly pulled my pants down along with my underwear, quickly stripping me as naked as her. My erect dick stood out in front of me, and Megara eyed it happily.
"Oh, you keep your balls shaved for the ladies: How thoughtful of you." She chortled happily.
Actually, that had more to do with personal comfort then the ladies, but I didn't tell her that.
She crawled across the bed, over me on all fours, stopping when she reached my penis. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth, shockingly extending to beyond Gene Simmons length. She took my penis in her hands and then licked it along the shaft, running her strange serpent's tongue over the flesh.
She took me into her mouth, bobbing up and down as she sucked me. Her lips ran across my cock and I moaned with pleasure, her mouth manipulating my member with the skill of several lifetimes lived. Mixed with the pleasure, was a certain remaining amount of fear. I half expected at any moment to feel venous serpent fangs sinking into my penis. Fortunately, that did not occur. I rolled my hips with her sucks, enjoying her attentions. She performed her fellatio with an absurd enthusiasm, seeming to enjoy having me in her mouth as much as I enjoyed it. She paused every once in a while to go down and lick my balls with the same gusto.
My head was reeling and the motion of the bed made my disorientation of worse. I certainly wasn't thinking strait, but it was apparently the way Megara liked it.
Megarastopped and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs wide, "Now it's your turn."
Like I said, I wasn't thinking straight. Her legs were open; both of her sets of genitals were fully exposed to me. She reached down and pulled her pussy lips open, revealing the pink inside. I moved forward, settling down between her legs, trying my damndest to ignore the presence of the erect penis near my head, concentration on her juicy, ready pussy which beckoned to me, despite the fact that the lips were greenish like the rest of her skin.
I spread her lips apart and went to work, liking at her vagina, running my tongue around her lips and sucking on her flesh. She moaned and writhed on the sheets, arching her hips at me.
I slid my fingers into her, slipping them deep into her vagina as I sucked on her green clit, moving them in and out. To tell the truth, for split, horrible second, I had thought a venomous snake might come out of there. Thank god it didn't. My imagination seemed to be running away with me. I slid my tongue along her luscious slit and I finger fucked her, her moans of pleasure turning me on even more.
I felt her hands lightly on my head and she gently pulled my head up a little bit.
"You're forgetting something." She said dreamily.
I took me a second to register what she meant. I sort of jumped when I realized she wanted me to perform fellatio on her cock. I hesitated, somehow surprised by this request.
"Um . . . I don't think . . . I mean . . . I've never . . ." I said to her in explanation.
It's embarrassing for a college professor to be at such a loss for words.
Getting testy, Megara said, "Hey, I sucked on yours. Go ahead, give it a lick. You might light it."
My brain was buzzing with disorientation, my body flooded with lust, and somewhere in all that, I made the surprising decision to go ahead. I don't know where it came from, or how I came to it, but I suddenly thought it was a good idea. I took her cock in my hand, not really sure what I was doing, and very tentatively, gave her penis a lick.
I was expecting to find it gross, but I actually felt an electric charged of excitement at the taste. I licked it again, and them some more, before I put it in my mouth and started to suck like she had. I felt my own penis crawl with sensation as I took her between my lips. It felt surprisingly good in my mouth.
Like I said, I wasn't thinking straight.
"Oh my, are you sure you've never done this?" Megara moaned, arching her back a little.
Quickly, Megara moved us around so we were in a sideways sixty nine position. I took her cock back into my mouth and sucked on her, pushing my fingers back into her pussy. I felt Megara's lips and enormous tongue on my own penis, and we lay there, sucking each other off on that rotating bed, the warmth of our bodies mingling with each other.
And then I got another shock: I suddenly felt her finger against my asshole. I gave a little yelp and was about to say something to stop her, but she pushed it in, slipping it deep inside me. I gave a small moan at the weird stimulation, with sensations running though me. Another finger pushed in and started to move in and out as she was sucking me. I found that I was unable to help myself in my dizzy disoriented state: and it felt good, really good, somehow making her lips on my penis more sensitive.
Well, two could play at that game, I figured drunkenly. I pushed my own fingers up the Gorgon's ass, which slid in fairly easily. Megara gave a squeal of delight and went back to working on my cock. We lay like that, thrusting ourselves at each other, sucking on each other's cocks and fingering each other for what seemed like a long time. The world around me seemed to spin even more rapidly as I was consumed by bliss.
When Megara finally stopped, I was so far into the clouds, that I had no idea what she intended next. She rolled me over and pulled me up onto my hands and knees. I dizzily complied. I was so drunk, that I didn't realize what she planned to do until I noticed that she was behind me. With a start I grasped that she proposed to sodomize me.
"H-hey, wait." I stammered helplessly.
"Don't worry," She told me, "That drink you drank had a muscle relaxant in it. This won't hurt a bit. And you'll like it."
And with that, she pushed the tip of her green penis inside me. I tensed and moaned, but the pushed it in further. She was right, there wasn't any pain, and soon she was moving in and out, pushing deeper inside my ass. Her ears rattled with joy.
Very quickly I began to feel it: Sensations of pleasure flowing through me as her hard cock moved deep into my body, stimulating my pancreas. I shuddered and moaned, but I couldn't help myself. God help me, I was enjoying this violation. Some part of me was rising to the occasion. Megara fucked me good, moving in and out. I rolled with her thrusts. I panted and groaned, my penis flopping back and forth. Tingling surged in my cock, like it was somehow being jerked off from the inside.
Megaranibbled at my ear, whispering, "Ah, this is great. I love a man who takes it in the ass."
The world outside seemed to cease to exist as I was introduced to this new form or pleasure. I had never imagined it could be this good, but I was crying out with delight and writhing, gripping the sheets and grunting as Megara sank herself deep into to me, moaning and crying out herself with pleasure. While opening me up, so to speak, to a whole new world.
"Oh, Doc, I'm going to cum, I can feel it." Megara wailed.
As she began to move fast, she moaned and wailed, her rattlers shaking, and she trembled above me. She cried out loud and convulsed and I felt the unmistakable feeling of wet hot semen flooding inside of me. The Gorgon had just cum in my ass. I shuddered with the feeling that I liked it.
Megarapulled out, still dribbling cum, and fell back on the bed, "Oh, fantastic, you felt great."
She slid her legs wide open, using one hand to pull open her green pussy lips. She twitched them, making her vagina seem to call to me.
"You're turn." She giggled, "Common, big boy, don't you wanna make the Gorgon cum?"
Totally out of my senses now, I crawled over her, kissing her deeply on the lips. Gripping my cock with one hand, I slipped it into her, feeling her wet pussy around my dick. She gasped and arched her back, reaching up and pulling me closer to her, deeper inside her. I started to fuck her, looking her in those wide yellow eyes as the snakes on her head slithered all around. She let out little cries as she writhed under me, pleasure controlling us both.
"Oh, oh you're a gifted man." Megara called.
Her snakes writhed and slithered, seeming to move faster the more excited she got. As I pumped her in and out, her rattlers shook periodically. All of this should have struck me a weird, but I was too consumed with lust and delight to care. I pushed up against her body as I fucked her, feeling the now limp form of her penis against my skin.
The music had changed to something else from the 70s that I didn't recognize.
As if reading my mind, Megara said, "Ah . . . The Whip . . . by Goblin . . . oh, ah . . . Italian band . . . oh oh . . . scored lots of horror films."
I couldn't care less.
Megaraarched her back under me, moaning with pleasure and gripping me tight. Her rattles shook rapidly as she squealed with pleasure, her body visibly trembling.
"Oh my gods. Oh my gods. Oh aaaahhhhhhhhh aaahhhgggggg!" She cried, convulsing with the grip of an orgasm.
He legs wrapped around me tightly, pushing me deep inside her. I was close to cumming myself, and Megara knew it.
"Cum inside me." She breathed, and then added, "Gorgons don't get pregnant that easy."
I couldn't help myself even if I wanted to. I shoved deep inside her body and felt the surge of pleasure, flowing out of my penis and radiating through my body. I shuddered and convulsed as a groaned, feeling the pleasure as I ejaculated into Megara's vagina. I came in great spurts, writhing on top of her as I did. She arched her body as I came in her, tilting her head back, moaning.
"Oh, that's what I like." She moaned.
When I was finally done, I kissed her deeply. We lay in each other's arms, making out with each other, our lips smacking softly until I finally rolled over on my back, spent. I stared I my reflection in the mirror above me.
Megaraslid up next to me and lay her head on my chest affectionately. I was starting to sober up from whatever it was she gave me, so the feeling of those snakes slithering on my chest gave me a bit of the willies, but for the most part, I didn't mind. I put an arm around her and lay on the bed. It still rocked us back and forth, in a calming motion.
"I am so glad you came here." Megara whispered dreamily, "I wasn't lying, I really do love your books. You're such a skillful investigator. Your stuff is fascinating."
She giggled, "I guess you're not going to put this in your next book. But it's alright if you do."
Before I had a chance to answer, a loud wailing alarm sound filled the room with a blaring noise. Megara jerked up in bed, her eyes wide.
"Someone's breached the vault!" She screamed.
She turned to me angrily, "Did you bring someone else?"
"No!" I protested, fearful again of getting turned to stone, "Just me and Enrique. I swear."
Megarajumped out of the bed and ran from the room, "Well, someone is here."
I grabbed my pants and followed, clumsily pulling them on as I went after her. We ran out the door and down a hallway. The whole temple was filled with the sounds of the alarm. As we passed a large window in the stone walls, I looked out and realized I could see out to the other side of the island. There was another beach over there, and I could see several figures emerging from the forest heading towards a boat.
"Megara!" I called, and pointed towards them, "There!"
The Gorgon hissed at the figures out the window. I noticed that she suddenly had long thin fangs, like that of a rattlesnake or a cobra, in her mouth. Oh my god, suddenly I realized that I had been right about why her teeth had looked so funny: The fangs had been folded backwards into the roof of her mouth like a serpent's, leaving only the small knob of the top visible where her canine teeth should have been.
Ai yi yi, and I just had my dick in there.
Megaraleaned out, "Damnit! Fuck! Who are they?"
I knew. Oh, my god. I was familiar with that boat. I belonged to Hanz Tollber. Damn him, he must have tracked me to this island and snuck in from the other side. A curse on that greedy son of bitch.
"It's Tollber's men." I told her. "A German archeologist, but he's in it for the money. Basically he's a glorified grave robber."
"I can't stone them from this far away." Megara hissed, and then she looked at the name of the ship, The Oily Seal. German registration, "I can track that boat. Hurry, we need to see what they took."
We continued down the hall and down some circular stairs until we finally reached a huge ornate metal door. It had been carelessly forces open and was hanging on one hinge. We ran inside and I found myself in a room that took my breath away. The massive chamber was filled from top to bottom with priceless objects from every conceivable part of history, my jaw dropped open.
Megaraturned this way and that, looking at the collection. There were many locked chests, but none of them seemed to have been forced. She ran around, anxious and from the look of it, frightened. Then, her eyes rested on a part of the wall in the opposite corner. There had once been a hidden door there, but now it was torn away, revealing a small room inside.
"Oh, gods. Oh no!" Megara wailed as she ran into the room. The snakes on her head slithered and waved in rapid agitated motions.
The room was empty except for a small pedestal in the center. The top of the pedestal had a small rectangular mark on it where something had once laid. Now it was empty. Megara regarded it with horror. The snakes now sunk a little, reflecting her despair.
"They took the box. Oh gods, they took the box." She groaned.
"I take it that's bad." I inquired lamely.
She nodded, "That box was one of the most dangerous things in here."
Swell, and now it was in the hands of someone who was going to sell it to the highest bidder. And I was the one who led them here. Even before she said it, I knew I was going to be stuck dealing with this mess.
"You've got to help me get it back." She told me, her snakes regaining some composure with her, "You know this guy; you can help me find him. Hell, you're probably one of the smartest guys I've ever met."
I wasn't so sure of that, after all this mess was partially my fault, "Well, Megara, I enjoy your company, but I'm not sure what I can do."
Megaraturned and opened one of the chests, dialing some kind of combination on the lock, "I need your help. Anyways, you might as well pitch in since you're on a research mission, and I'm your subject, so you go where I go. Besides, I'll sweeten the pot a little bit for you, 'cause we're gonna need something that you want."
She pulled something out of the box and held it up. It was a small golden amulet, round, with a eye shaped sapphire in the center, and lettering around the sides. I gasped, I recognized this amulet: It was the Eye Of Demeter!
Megarasaid, "I'm glad you like my company, Doc, because as of right now, I'm you're goddamn partner."