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The 10,000 Year Itch

A Mighty Max fanfiction

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Commissioned by JadeStyx

Author's Note: Mighty Max is copyright © Nickelodeon and Bluebird Toys - the author does not own the Mighty Max setting or characters, and makes no profit from this story. This story is based specifically on a character from Episode 18 of Season 2: Dawn of the Conqueror.

Some might have called Max's mom, Maxine, a neglectful parent. There was a certain element of truth to this accusation, as Maxine was never really known for hanging around and playing the devoted housewife. Actually, her discontent with such a role was one of the major reasons that she and Max's father had separated so many years back, despite their shared interest in adventure and archeology being the main reason they had gotten together in the first place. In fact, the cap of the Mighty One was maybe the only one of the gifts from Max's father Maxine had kept around after he'd split, something she'd later on shared with Max as one of the many seemingly random gifts she sent him from a variety of exotic locales while Max kept the homefires burning.

It was because of Max that Maxine never really worried about being an absentee parent most of the time. Max (sometimes called "the Mighty One" by his strange friends Norman and Virgil) was incredibly precocious for someone his age, a clever and agile thinker who was easily the intellectual match of his mother and father combined. If Max's mother didn't trump him with her greater education and experience, to say nothing of mother's intuition, she might have been a little worried about keeping her son in line. What made sure she stayed unworried about Max's activities, however, was her knowledge that her son was driven, not by the typical selfish desires of a teenage boy, but by a sense of duty and responsibility that vastly belied his tender years.

What complicated matters, at least for Max, was Max's calling as "the Mighty One." Ever since Virgil, the Lemurian fowl, and Norman, the giant guardian of the Mighty One, had shown up, determined to help Max achieve his destiny and stop the evil machinations of Skull Master, Max had been involved in one quest after another, using his magical Lemurian cap (as it turned out, the very one Maxine had sent to her son as a souvenir, thanks to the significantly advanced planning of the ever-clever Virgil) to do more globetrotting than even Maxine had ever done in all her many travels of the globe to uncover the most rare and priceless artifacts. Of course, from Maxine's perspective, all these adventures weren't a bad thing by any means: they meant that, even if he were so inclined, Max had no time for getting into trouble.

Speaking of getting into trouble, of course, Maxine presently wished that she hadn't been quite so eager in her pursuit of one of the outposts of Atlantis. Virgil had been kind enough to give her a tip about the location of one of these fabulously rare colonies during one of her infrequent breaks back in the wilds of American Suburbia, before the fowl was once again taking her son off on another adventure, this time to thwart the machinations of the evil Skullmaster before they could take place, or something like that - even with her background in studying the ancient past, thinking about time travel still made Maxine's head swim, which was why she chose to focus on the lead Virgil had given her instead. Her eagerness to find this lost outpost before anyone else had a chance to even learn that it existed had soon led the intrepid archeologist to head as soon as she could to the Mediterranean, hiring the first ship from Crete that became available.

It was Maxine's choice of ship that now caused her some worry, and more specifically its crew. Most of the ships sailing out of Crete had outright refused all of the young archeologist's attempts to bargain, and no amount of money - at least no amount that Maxine could bring to bear - would change their minds on the subject. It was just too stormy at this time to make the attempt. But Maxine would not be deterred once she'd set her mind on something. So it was, after digging through the wharfside population for almost a full day, that Maxine at long last came upon a captain who was perfectly willing to take her out. The man was short, stout, and swarthy of complexion, with ugly eyes that seemed to constantly be fixed directly at Maxine's breasts, as though they were trying to bore holes in the orange vest and blue turtleneck she wore.

"Ah, yes, Miss American," he addressed her after she made her introductions in an accent that Maxine simply did not recognize, leaning heavily against the side of an empty fishmonger's stall, not seeming to care in the least about the heavy stench of rotting fish that remained. "Yes, is easy to get where you are hoping. Easy, and nice price, too. Only forty American. Very reasonable, you see?"

It was very reasonable, actually, which had led to Maxine's boarding his ship only minutes later, the little vessel quickly casting off before she'd even finished cinching her lifejacket tight around her.

The crew of the vessel, as Maxine quickly discovered, weren't any better than their captain. Actually, most of them were worse. There was the first mate, a tall man who was as thin as a rail, with a prominent Adam's apple that tended to bob almost all the way from beneath his chin to just above his collarbone when he swallowed, which was often. The rest of the four-man crew was composed of a man of slight build and pallid complexion who seemed to sweat constantly no matter what he was doing, and a towering, dark-skinned giant with a broad gut who Maxine never saw wear a shirt, only a pair of ratty canvas pants. None of them even bothered to pretend they weren't constantly looking her over whenever they had an opportunity, and Maxine soon decided that she might be better served spending her time belowdecks, quickly retiring to the single cabin so as to stay out of the way of the disreputable crew of this disreputable vessel. Doing her best to ignore the creaking of the boat and the many little leaks that left the floor of the room constantly damp, though she made sure the lifejacket she was wearing didn't have any leaks - she wasn't taking it off until she was safe on dry land again! - Maxine slumped into the hammock dangling from the cabin's ceiling, and quickly let her jetlag do the rest.

*

Once, he had been known as the Conqueror, a primal creature with powers so mighty, none could best him. His task, given to him by the gods themselves, was to test the Guardian of the Mighty One every ten-thousand years, to prove the bearer of that august title and see if he was worthy of the immunity to the ravages of time that came with being the Guardian. At least, that is what had had been doing, until the latest Guardian, one Norman by name, had actually managed to defeat him fairly, using any weapon he might choose, and choosing the Mighty One himself, a boy by the name of Max, as his tool of battle. The choice proved to be a wise one indeed, as Max was a cunning strategist, a master of unorthodox thinking, and it was only a matter of time before, between Max's brains and Norman's brawn, the Conqueror had finally been defeated for the first time in ten-thousand years.

Luckily for the Conqueror, defeat didn't necessarily mean death, since he was, after all, immortal, even moreso than the Guardian, made of the fortified stuff that composed the flesh of the gods themselves. He was a mighty creature, able to endure the drift of continents, the heat of volcanoes, and the fury of the mightiest storms.

What he couldn't do was find a date.

After his defeat at the hands of the Guardian and the Mighty One, the Conqueror had thought that he was now free to mingle with society, a blessing that had been denied to him since time immemorial, as his duties as the prover of Guardians overrode all his personal desires or ambitions. In truth, he was free, at least of his obligations, since the gods' injunction only lasted so long as he remained undefeated. The problem with this newfound freedom, of course, was that the Conqueror simply didn't fit in. Even if one could lay aside the hard fact that he was an anthropomorphic lion dressed in full-body dark armor and sporting a long, flowing red mane, the Conqueror had spent the last thousand years honing himself as a warrior, completely removed from any sort of polite society...or any society at all, for that matter, aside from the many would-be heroes who regularly came to battle him, their inevitable defeats the reason he didn't appear much in human myths: nobody liked stories where the hero died in the end, even in the very rare instances where spectators were present and survived the incident. In other words, he was not exactly the best of conversationalists, to put it mildly. To put it more bluntly, the Conqueror scared everyone who met him, and rather than be forced to do battle with an angry mob not long after his first badly failed attempt at reintegration into society, he had instead been forced to go into hiding, and soon began to wander the streets of his Greek island's village wearing a long cloak, traveling only at night to ensure he wasn't identified for the creature that he was.

There was, however, one very important need that drew the Conqueror back into society again and again, a need that overrode even the fear of having to face yet another angry mob, or of frightening others. That need, of course, was sex. The gods, in their infinite wisdom, hadn't stopped at simply placing a ban on the Conqueror from enjoying society while he was testing would-be Guardians and other heroes; no, their ban had gone so far as to prevent the Conqueror from taking part in any activity that didn't directly pertain to his duties. That included sex, and since the Conqueror never slept, only entering a state of dormancy in which he might as well be dead, wet dreams never had a chance to offer their own sort of relief. On the one hand, this ban on sexual release had been a tremendous help in making the Conqueror focus on his duties, and had additionally provided him with a state of almost constant tension, which just made him all the more fierce and savage in battle. On the other hand, however, it also meant that, for ten-thousand years, the Conqueror's case of blue balls had simply grown more intense, day by day, until now, without his duties in the service of the gods to distract him, he was close to becoming a nervous wreck.

Looking up at the sky, being sure not to tilt his head more than was necessary so as not to cause the hood of his cloak to fall back and reveal his true identity, the Conqueror scowled at the churning clouds, feeling the impending wrath of Zeus and Poseidon about to be unleashed upon the land and the sea. The storm would be a bad one. For the Conqueror, however, this was a perfect night for his purposes. First, it meant that there would be hardly anyone outside of their homes, thus vastly reducing the likelihood of his being discovered. Second, it meant that any porné he might find peddling their services would have to be pretty desperate.

Most everywhere, no matter how small the community, there is almost always a part of town where porné can be found. The Conqueror had learned that they were called "red-light districts" in this new age from a few overheard conversations. He'd also heard that porné were called prostitutes now, but he disliked the term, preferring the name for the oldest profession from his own early years, his own time. It was always strange for the Conqueror to find that so little had really changed in the intervening years, and that, despite his obvious technological gap, he could find his way through the streets of this small seaside resort without serious trouble.

Ah, there she was! The Conqueror's eyes, as keen in the darkness of the windswept night as those of any feline, immediately picked up the glow of a cigarette in an alleyway, the brief flare of light more than enough for him to identify the porné. She was a younger slip of a girl, probably new to the profession. Already, though, she had the look of desperation about her, the look of someone who was right on the edge of total collapse, and turned to the only thing that she could think of to save herself from starvation. As the Conqueror neared, he took her scent, and though she was undernourished, he was pleased that he didn't detect any of the filth that so many porné had running through their veins, the strange poisons of this future era that could shackle the soul far more effectively than any physical chains from days when slavery was common. Yes, she was healthy enough for his needs, and pretty enough as well, with dark hair peeking out from beneath the hooded jacket she was wearing against the cold and the impending wet.

"You are for sale?" asked the Conqueror, startling the girl, who spun to face him with a gasp. The Conqueror hadn't meant to surprise her - he was simply quiet by both instinct and by long training. Gulping nervously, the girl looked up at the towering, shadow-shrouded figure before her, obviously unsure about what she had gotten herself into. All the same, she nodded. "Good. I have much need." He held out a small leather bag, a coin purse he had once taken from a would-be hero almost three-thousand years ago, and passed it to the girl. She glanced inside, her smooth brow furrowing in confusion as she saw the strange golden coins within, enough money to buy three slaves when they'd been first minted, but now, to the right collector, likely worth enough for a house in a small community like this. The Conqueror, however, cared little for wealth, as he had no need for food, nor for drink, though he had found he enjoyed the sensations of eating and drinking on those rare occasions when they'd been afforded him. But the needs of his flesh...those overrode all others.

The girl finally nodded, then cinched the purse tight and tucked it in the pocket of her hoodie, before motioning to the Conqueror to follow her up a flight of stairs leading along the outside of one of the small buildings in whose alley she'd been standing. The towering hooded lionman followed two steps behind the girl so as not to frighten her too badly - he was in far too much need right then to risk losing a chance like this - and then ducked as she opened the door to her tiny apartment.

It wasn't a very nice room, and the Conqueror made a point of not looking at it too closely, not wanting to spoil his mood with such depressing details as those of poverty. He comforted himself with the knowledge that, with the coins he'd given her, she'd be free of such distressing circumstances soon enough. All he needed from her, was relief.

The girl swallowed nervously, but then began to undress before the conqueror, who seated himself on a stool next to the bed, all the better to watch. She was actually rather pretty, even if she was underfed, with long, dark, curly hair, and smooth, olive skin, typical of the girls that lived in that region of the Mediterranean. Her eyes were large and dark as well, perhaps a little too large for what a human might find truly attractive, but the Conqueror didn't mind at all, as her eyes reminded him of the large eyes of a cat. She bit her lip as she threw the last of her clothes over a broken table near the door, not bothering with putting on much of a show, her face turned down, not looking at her client, too ashamed of what she was doing to meet his eyes, clenching her hands into fists to force herself to keep from instinctively covering her nudity. The Conqueror took his time to admire this tarnished beauty, admiring her conical breasts with their dark caramel nipples, ignoring the way her ribs were visible as he traced his gaze along her flat belly to the thick, dark bush of her curly pubic hair right between her supple legs, toned from long hours of walking and standing in various lines to get the little necessities of life. Visibly fighting back her nervousness, the girl picked up a condom packet lying on the table near the door, next to where she'd dropped her clothes, and held it out to him.

Rising to his full height, eager to begin, to finally end his millennia-long forced celibacy, the Conqueror advanced on the small human woman, an eager growl rising in his throat. The growl, however, was his undoing, as the girl's face suddenly snapped up, her eyes looking into the deep shadows of his hooded cloak. With a gasp, she looked at the huge paws the Conqueror placed on her shoulders, then slid down over her breasts before he took the condom from her hand, shaking her head in terror at the sight of sharp claws visible at the tips of each tawny-furred hand. The Conqueror, however, didn't care, his lust having risen to an almost mindless state, his cloak parting to reveal his immense, rigid member. He'd chosen to wear nothing beneath his cloak so as to increase the speed with which he could satisfy his desires, nudity hardly an issue for him, not only because of the general lack of clothing from the era he'd called home, but from his fur as well, warding off all but the most extreme of cold weather. The girl stared down in wide-mouthed shock at the immense red shaft that was prodding her just above her belly, watching the Conqueror roll the condom slowly and carefully over his hard flesh, then whimpering as she saw the terrifying-looking feline spikes that lined its length, especially right below the conical glans, which suddenly stiffened, protruding outward even more at the feeling of the condom's tightness, mistaking it for the tightness of a female. For a moment the condom held against the barbs, then they pushed through the thin latex, popping it like a balloon.

"Please me," growled the Conqueror softly, his words full of ages-old need, caring little about the flimsy implement of birth control.

The girl screamed.

No! The Conqueror nearly roared in bestial frustration as the girl backed away from him, still screaming like an unquiet spirit, before she grabbed a raincoat near the inner door f the apartment, then jerked it open and raced out into the hallway, yelling at the top of her lungs even as she hastily donned her only garment. More yells and cries could be heard from the rest of the apartment building and from the buildings on either side, doors opening, windows showing light before they were thrust upward, frightened and angry faces appearing, eager to find the cause of such disturbance.

Almost wrenched beyond his ability to endure by his anticipation now dashed, the Conqueror stood there in the now-empty apartment for several moments, trembling, his teeth and hands tightly clenched. Then, with a desperate snarl, he leapt out the outer door and easily clambered up onto the roof of the building, his immense strength and agility serving him well as he started leaping from rooftop to rooftop, determined to escape the mob that was surely already forming, eager for his blood, determined to take his life in a body when they had no chance as individuals.

Cursing the cowardly humans, cursing the gods, and cursing himself, the Conqueror fled into the night, landing lightly on the ground near the edge of town before he raced off into the night, running as much on all-fours as on two-legs as the terrain required. Another night wasted. Another night, and a day that would follow, of his godcurse-enforced celibacy. Would he never find the release he needed? Would he never be free of this curse? His heart sinking as the rain started to come down in sheets, his cloak tearing off in the driving winds that accompanied the rain, the Conqueror very nearly gave himself up to despair. For now, he would return to his cave, and there he would rest until the coming day. Perhaps some rest would help him refocus his mind, and give him new hope for the morrow.

*

Maxine jerked this way and that in the grip of the giant holding her tightly, twisting her wrists against the plastic cuffs that held them bound in front of her. Somehow she'd managed to doze off despite the ominous creaking of the leaky tub all around her, and the uncomfortable feeling of the life jacket over her clothes. When she'd woken up, it had been to the feeling of rough hands on her body, cinching white plastic cuffs around her wrists then hauling her to her feet and almost dragging her up the stairs to the deck.

There, Maxine looked around defiantly at the nasty little captain and his filthy crew, daring them with her eyes to try anything. The skinny, pale man, and the sweaty greaser were antsy, obviously wanting to do something to Maxine (what, she could guess), and the look of the short, stout captain told a similar tale, but he seemed content to wait.

"Plans have changed, Miss American," he said with a smile that on anyone else might have been almost pleasant - on him, it was almost enough to make Maxine gag. "Forty dollars American doesn't compare to forty-thousand dollars American. We're meeting your new owners in a few minutes, and I want you to see them arrive."

So saying, the ugly little man motioned out to sea, where a larger yacht was approaching, bobbing on the choppy waves. Then he glanced back at Maxine and gave her a shrug.

"Business first, Miss American," he said, obviously disappointed. "Please after. Guess we just wait to ease our sorrows with some local whores, instead of with you like we pla-"

The nasty little captain's words were cut off when, just as the yacht was pulling up alongside the smaller fishing boat, a sudden rush of wind picked up, bringing with it a solid sheet of water that blasted over the tops of both vessels. Maxine's primary weakness was acting on her impulses. This, however, was also her greatest strength, such as at times like this, when, in the moment of distraction and sudden slickness that showered down on the deck from the rage of the storm, she jerked herself free of the huge hands of the dark-skinned giant behind her and took off running toward the side of the fishing boat. Not paying any attention to the yells of the four crew members, or the cries of the men on the nearby yacht, Maxine gave a short hop onto the gunwale, and then leapt with all her might as far forward as she could, out into the raging sea.

If it weren't for her lifejacket, Maxine would surely have drowned. As it was, she was still in desperate straits, the oncoming storm having made the waters of the Mediterranean start to rise almost ridiculously high. Maxine, however, was determined, and she was in excellent shape, and though she was forced to kick off her boots in order to have any chance of kicking her legs to push herself through the water (and she'd just gotten that pair broken in, too...), she soon started to make headway through the crashing waves.

In a matter of moments, however, Maxine suddenly realized that the reason she was making headway wasn't just because she was a great swimmer. Just head of her, illuminated in flashes of lightning, she caught sight of a long stretch of beach. It must be the island where she'd paid those pirates to take her! Once she'd gotten within a certain distance of the shore, the waves started to carry her forward, hurtling her along at times, leaving her feeling weightless, her stomach turning flip-flops as she was tumbled along. It was all she could do to keep her head above water, to keep from drinking in drowning death, but at least that was all she had to do, for seemingly endless minutes until, with a thudding impact, she hit the soaking sand of the beach.

Her body tensing, Maxing forced herself to inch her way up the shore, fighting against each crashing wave that threatened to pull her back to certain doom, until suddenly there was more land than sea beneath her. She'd made it! She was still alive! But she wasn't out in the clear yet, Maxine quickly realized as she forced herself up onto her feet once more, turning back out to sea in time to see a searchlight mounted on a motorboat sweep over the shore at the level of her legs. Taking off before they could refocus that light on the rest of her, Maxine started off into the woods just beyond the beach, not daring to look back, focusing instead on finding someplace where she could hide, and wait out her pursuers somehow, until a chance to give them a proper slip would show up.

The woods were rocky, as was the shore around the beach, and soon Maxine realized that the place was actually a worn-down mountain, or perhaps a volcano that had formed and gone dormant in long ages past, allowing the thick forest around her to spring up. Knowing that, in a torrent like this, high ground would probably be her best defense against being flooded out before her pursuers could find her, Maxine started upward, gripping the rocks with her bound hands as best as she could as she began to climb where she had to, running where she could, but always heading up. Her efforts were suddenly rewarded then as, quite abruptly, she came across a dark cave. Seeing the flashlights of her pursuers in the forest below and behind her, Maxine didn't hesitate another moment, and dove into the darkness.

Oof!

What the-? There was something...furry in here! Maxine had stumbled over something as she entered the cave, and this had sent her tumbling forward, only to land heavily on something huge and covered in surprisingly soft, well-groomed fur. That little detail was quickly shoved into the back of Maxine's mind as the creature she'd fallen upon began to move, dumping her unceremoniously onto the smooth floor of the cave as it rose up, towering over her. Was it a bear? There weren't supposed to be many bears in the Mediterranean she'd heard, but knowing her luck on this whole messed-up trip, she guessed she might have run right into the cave of one of the last ones around.

Then the "bear" spoke. Maxine was so astonished at this that she didn't even process the words she'd heard until the towering creature repeated himself (and that voice, so deep and so growly, was most definitely that of a male).

"What are you doing in my home?"

"Oh!" Maxine exclaimed, before remembering the danger and lowering her voice, pointing outside the cave. "I'm sorry to bother you; I didn't know the cave was occupied. I was just running away from the people chasing me."

The gleaming eyes of the hulking creature turned toward the mouth of the cave.

"Why are they chasing you?" he asked before glancing back at her. "Tell the truth - I can smell lies, and I dislike criminals. If you have done wrong, then I will let them have you."

"I hired them to take me to an island," Maxine said, talking as fast as she dared, sensing the impatience and irritability of this strange and unknown creature. "There's supposed to be an old Atlantean outpost around here somewhere, and these people were the only crew willing to take me out in this bad weather - I had to get there before anyone else did, you see. But it turned out they decided to sell me off as a slave or something to...I don't know who, but whoever it is, they're out there as well, and they're all looking for me." She swallowed in fear, then looked up into the luminous eyes of the mysterious creature. "Please, don't let them get me."

Instead of answering right away, the creature in the dark looked at Maxine appraisingly, as though seeing her for the first time. Hope bloomed in her heart, then, as she saw the expression in those eyes softening.

"I can see why they would want you," he said in a softer voice, and Maxine had to admit his voice was actually pleasant when he wasn't angry, deep and rolling with a slight growling undertone to it. Kind of sexy, actually. "You are...very beautiful."

"Um, thanks," Maxine said awkwardly, blushing a bit at the compliment from a creature (was it even human?) that she hadn't even seen. "But what are you going to do with me?"

"They won't have you," said the towering creature firmly, turning his back on Maxine and walking toward the entrance to the cave. "You spoke the truth to me. I could see it in your eyes as well as smell it on your body." Then he shivered, pointedly not looking at her as he added, under his breath "among other things." He quickly recovered, though, and looked over his shoulder at Maxine with eyes that were now surprisingly gentle. "I will keep you safe. I promise you that."

With those words, the creature leapt out into the driving rain and was gone. For several long minutes Maxine waited in the dark, not knowing what would come out of that dark and stormy night, whether friend or foe. After the ordeals she'd endured, however, Maxine's adrenaline couldn't hold out forever, and before she knew it, her eyes were closing once more, and she was drifting off into sleep.

*

How long Maxine slept, she would probably never know. All she knew was that it was still quite dark outside as she opened her eyes and turned them towards the cave entrance, but she could see faint glimmerings of light through the rain-shrouded haze; it was daytime. The cracking of thunder and crackling of lightning had diminished from their fury of the night before, but the wind and the rain were heavier than ever, reducing visibility to almost nil. There was no way she was going out in that storm if she could help it: she'd catch her death of cold.

Speaking of which...brr! Hugging herself, Maxine's gradually-wakening mind realized why she'd awoken in the first place: she was freezing! In her sudden exhaustion following her near-miss with those pirates or whoever they were, she'd completely forgotten about the need to get dry before dozing off, and had simply fallen asleep far too close to the cave's mouth for comfort's sake. Now her clothes were wet and cold, and she could feel her skin breaking out in goosebumps.

"Gotta start a fire," Maxine said to herself, not seeing anyone else who might object to the practice. "Nothing out there dry enough for tinder, obviously. What about in here...?"

Stepping a little deeper into the cave, Maxine soon discovered that, if only she'd gone further inside before falling asleep, she might not be in her present state of near-hypothermic distress, as it was quite dry, and out of the wind once you got a fair distance away from the cave's mouth. There was even a soft flow of warm air from somewhere further into the dark tunnel. Not caring as much about modesty as her health, Maxine quickly stripped off her frigid clothes and draped them over a mid-sized boulder, trusting the lack of light to conceal her enough if that large...person should come back. Naked in the darkness, Maxine began to press onward, following the stream of warm air that she could feel against her upthrust breasts, teasing her rigid, perked nipples, which were almost painfully hard from the cold. The change in temperature made Maxine shiver a little, closing her eyes (not that it made much difference in the dark) as she stretched out her hands, feeling her way along, taking her time to make sure she didn't stub her toes on some outcropping or trip over some other obstacle.

Long minutes must have passed as Maxine made her way along in this fashion, before, quite suddenly, she noticed light on her eyelids. Opening her eyes slowly, so as not to dazzle herself, Maxine's mouth dropped open as she saw that she was standing in a long tunnel of carved rock. The light in the tunnel was coming from strange crystals embedded in ornate bronze sconces set into the walls. Reaching up, Maxine carefully withdrew one of these sconces, finding that they were easy to slide free, and held it aloft like a torch as she began to press forward once more, her eyes wide, her breathing faster now with the excitement of discovery.

Before she had gone two more steps, however, Maxine felt a massive paw on her shoulder, bringing her up short.

"What are you doing back here?" said the voice of the huge creature she'd met in the dark of the cave. "This is my home," he continued, though his voice didn't have the quality of anger that it had before. Instead, the reproachful, slightly hurt tone of the male's voice made Maxine feel quite guilty for having invaded the privacy of someone who had been so generous with his hospitality so far.

"I'm sorry," said Maxine, turning around slowly, keeping the light in her hand held high. "I just...wow."

The reason for Maxine's exclamation, of course, was her first sight of the beast in the dark, revealed at last. He was huge all right, but she'd expected that, and he certainly wasn't human. More like some sort of cross between human and lion. Handsome, too.

'Get ahold of yourself, Maxine,' Maxine chided herself silently. 'This is no time to go falling all over every naked, well-hung beefcake you come acr-...naked? Well-hung?'

After her recent ordeals, and the even more recent rush of excitement in discovering what seemed to be a new and mysterious location, Maxine's mind was both preoccupied with other matters, and also a little more sluggish than she would have liked. Both of these difficulties had led her to completely miss the fact that the absolutely gorgeously-built male standing before her was buck naked, and exceedingly generously endowed, though it was a little hard to tell all the specifics, since his manhood was presently concealed inside of a more-than-sizable sheath. It was sort of like the sheaths she'd seen on horses and burros, rather than being strictly catlike, as she'd expected from his leonine head. This sheath fascinated Maxine's scientific mind as well as the part of her that secretly admitted she'd been throwing herself into her work for so long in a desperate attempt to forget all about the great sex she'd enjoyed when she'd been married, until she and Max's dad had gotten too caught up in their professional lives, and which she'd missed for much, much too long.

The great beast cleared his throat, and Maxine's head jerked up, color rushing to her cheeks as she realized she'd been staring. And he wasn't even human! Not that this was too much of a bother for Maxine. After all, she'd flirted with Virgil more than a few times, sensing a kindred spirit much like Max's dad, though the Lemurian fowl hadn't taken her up on any of her innuendo to date (though whether from lack of interest of lack of understanding, she really didn't know - Virgil could be so dense about some things at times), and she'd once, when she was a teenager, looked at a large bull giraffe's dangling bits while visiting her local zoo until the giraffe suddenly (she thought self-consciously) jerked a leg in the way of her view while giving her such a look of reproach that Maxine could still clearly remember the guilt she'd felt for violating such a beautiful creature's body with her eyes. For a moment she was worried that she might see a similar look of reproach in the eyes of the huge creature that had allowed her to share its den. But no, there wasn't any reproof in those eyes as Maxine dared to look up into them. It was more a look of...was that regret?

"Um," Maxine suddenly broke the silence with a slight clearing of her throat. "I guess maybe you'd better lead me back to the cave."

"...Yes," agreed the tawny-furred creature with a slight inclination of his head, his golden eyes looking at Maxine's bared body, making Maxine realize that she wasn't in the company of some animal at all, but around a creature that was able to find her attractive in the same way she found him attractive. It also made her more than a little embarrassed, being caught in the buff like this in the home of a strange male. What in the world would Max think if he knew his mother was in such a state?

Probably better that he not find out, Maxine decided.

"This way," growled the male, turning away from Maxine hastily, his voice husky. "I got your things from the boat. At least, I think they're yours." He glanced very briefly over his shoulder, and Maxine saw that his pink lion's nose and the insides of his ears were quite dark with a rush of blood - a lion's blush? "They smelled like you."

"Right behind you," said Maxine, doing her best - and not really succeeding very well - to avoid checking out the beautiful man-animal's gorgeous butt, accentuated all the more by his slowly lashing tufted tail.

*

Finally, she was asleep again. The Conqueror crouched by the cave's entrance, doing everything in his power to keep his eyes facing forward, not looking at the shapely, toned young woman lying on her side by the fire he'd built to keep her warm and dry her soaking wet clothes. Her things were strewn around at a slight distance from the fire, enough to keep them from scorching, while also enough to let them dry out. The Conqueror had carefully pulled out every item from the blonde woman's backpack, which he'd found on the lower deck of a small craft that had been run aground on the beach of the small jungle island, and arranged them with a degree of delicateness and care that would have surprised anyone who'd seen him in battle: one didn't get a name like "the Conqueror" for being gentle and nice, after all.

Grr! That was the problem, wasn't it, though? The Conqueror bared his fangs at the pouring rain beyond the cave's mouth, as though daring the elements themselves to taunt him for his failures in satisfying his need, his burgeoning, immortal lust. If he was truly a conqueror, then shouldn't he simply take what he wanted, rather than trying to use 'civilized' means to find relief for the ache in his full, heavy sac? Even without the divine protection that had allowed him to survive his defeat at the hands of the Guardian, Norman, the Conqueror was still far more powerful than any human, and more powerful, certainly, than anything any of these pitiful human settlements on these miniscule islands could bring to bear as an armed force. It would be a simple enough matter to conquer these pathetic humans and bend them to his will. Then he'd get respect. Then he could have as many women as he could ever desire. After all, those puny men that had been hunting the island for the woman now sleeping in his cave had tried to fight him, and they'd had guns. They'd been easily dispatched, and the Conqueror felt not a moment's guilt for their permanent removal from the world of mortals. Dominating a seaside village filled with beautiful women surely couldn't be any more difficult, not when most of these pathetic humans were little more than sheep with no more fight in them than your typical rabbit.

His mind burning with such savage thoughts, the Conqueror turned his fierce eyes toward the beautiful blonde woman lying with her back to him on the cave floor so very close by. An eager rumble started in his chest as he let his eyes trace the graceful flow of her trim back, every neat little muscle toned and clearly visible from years spent exploring the dark corners of the Earth, as well as from even more years doing aerobics. The woman's knees were tucked up against her chest, causing her sweet little bottom to be thrust outward, forming an almost perfect heart shape as she lay there on her side. Licking his chops as he felt the drool rising, felt his savage, darker instincts come to the fore, his immense shaft soon hardening until it stood out before him like a javelin, the Conqueror felt his desires to be a part of society slipping away from him as he began to walk forward, eager to claim what his instincts told him was rightly his by the savage laws of conquest, red in tooth and claw: he'd slain all the males that had wanted her for themselves, and that made her his.

Just before he reached the sleeping woman, however, the Conqueror felt his toes kick against something, one of the objects he'd taken from her pack and spread out with all the rest of her things. It was a book, a paperback he vaguely recalled hearing they were called. Perhaps he would have continued to overlook it then as he had when he'd first unpacked it from the woman's things, but now his eyes were immediately drawn to the picture on the front cover, showing a handsome and deeply-tanned human man with a bare chest (though if he was wearing anything below the waist was unclear, since the edge of the cover cut off his lower body) clutching a feebly-resisting human woman to him, her bodice almost completely pulled down, exposing nearly the entire expanse of her generous, creamy cleavage, minus the parts that would have let titillation give way to full-blown pornography. The title of the book, however, is what really caught the Conqueror's eyes at that moment, for it reflected what he'd been planning to do, striking him to the heart like an accusation. The title of the book was "The Ravisher." Gritting his teeth as he gradually regained control of himself, the Conqueror seated himself on a nearby rock and scooped up the still slightly damp paperback in one massive paw before carefully thumbing it open. The book, like most of the blonde woman's things, had been packed into a watertight plastic baggie within her backpack, which had kept it from being ruined, though it hadn't saved it completely from the drenching conditions outside. After all, a little excess moisture was one thing, and a deluge was quite another.

Glancing briefly at the book's author, the Conqueror gave a soft snort of derision, as it was obviously a made-up name, and a cheesy one at that, one that he promptly put from his mind as inconsequential. Flipping into the book a short distance, just to peruse it, the Conqueror told himself he was doing this to distract himself, to keep from doing...whatever he'd been about to do to the woman lying asleep on the floor nearby. She was his guest, after all, and whatever else he might be feeling, he had no right to violate the ancient laws of hospitality. There was simply no excuse for such...oh. Oh my.

Eyes widening at the passage he'd found by random chance, the Conqueror felt his erection throb, the barbs of his shaft extending as he reached full hardness, only a little stimulation needed now to put him right over the edge. The Conqueror didn't want to resort to such degradation, however, having masturbated enough times already, and having decided that such acts were humiliating to one of his stature and importance, his pride outweighing his lust, at least until it grew too powerful for him to resist any longer. All the same, the passage was heady stuff, actually pretty good writing for what was meant to be pornography for females. The protagonist of the book, a beautiful young woman, had been taken prisoner by pirates. This was the very end of a chapter, and the Conqueror allowed himself to be lost in the advancing plot as the next chapter opened with her being dragged out onto a hidden island cove by the unwashed, evil ruffians, who only laughed at her pleas for mercy as they undressed themselves, taking pleasure in making her see naked men for the first time, violating her eyes before their intended violation of her body. Soon, though, the captain of the pirates stepped forward, a dashing, handsome man, surely the accurate inspiration for the gorgeous male on the front cover, and surely the one who would save the poor, hapless protagonist from her peril, whisking her away to a fairytale ending where she could live happily ever after with her pirate king.

But no! The Conqueror's nose flared in eagerness as the handsome pirate king, rather than showing any chivalry, instead insisted that he take her first, his right as captain. The pirates seemed to think this best, actually, and soon the young woman was struggling in their vile grips as the filthy brutes seized her, their rough, work-hardened hands tearing her beautiful clothes from her shapely body, her skin so sensitive to their uncaring touch. The pirates mocked her for having such smooth, pale skin and delicate hands and feet, obviously having never done an honest day's work in her life. What they intended to take from her, they insisted, was only what she should have been doing anyway: earning her keep. The handsome pirate captain's strong hands then easily parted the young woman's thighs, his calloused palms on the delicate skin of her inner thighs, his mouth quickly descending toward her most sacred places. She cried out then, not in fear or disgust, but in the shock of a spoiled brat who had finally been forced to realize that her desires are not the center of the universe, only to have her voice cut off by the hefty bo'sun's lips crushing her own, more mouths and rough hands making the most disgusting noises as they began to squeeze and suck and slurp on her breasts like a pack of wild animals. And the most animalistic of them all was the handsome captain, his face buried in her neatly-trimmed muff, almost gnawing on her pearl-pink virgin lips like some savage beast on a piece of raw, bloody meat...

Rreh? With a start, the Conqueror almost dropped the book, looking down in shock at the long, delicate fingers now suddenly resting on his inner thighs. How had she snuck up on him? Had he truly been so enraptured by mere smut? Apparently so, for the still-naked, beautiful blonde woman was there between the Conqueror's legs on all-fours, obviously having crawled over to him.

"Hope you don't mind," she said with an apologetic glance up at his wide-eyed, gape-mouthed face as she settled herself there on the ground, resting her pert bum on the heels of her feet as she knelt before him, her fingers stroking through the softer, shorter fur of the Conqueror's inner thighs, her bright, eager blue eyes inspecting his rampant erect cock with almost kittenish curiosity mingled with the scrutinizing interest of a true scientist. "You looked like you really needed something like this." So saying, the woman gently wrapped her long, skilled fingers around the Conqueror's proudly erect shaft, her eyebrows raising as he shivered at her slightest squeeze, a spurt of precum nearly soaking her hand. "Wow," she said in awe. "You're...really pent up." Then her eyes turned up toward his face with a compassionate expression. "Must've been longer for you than it's been for me," she added with a wry smirk, to which the Conqueror could only nod, before he dropped her book, just digging his powerful, clawed hands into the rock beneath him as he fought the losing battle for control, not wanting to show this woman how weak he was, how little self-control he had left, but knowing that under such skilled hands as hers, this was a fight he had no chance to win.

"Be," he growled out, his voice low and husky as he looked down into the beautiful blue eyes of the blonde woman, "be gentle with me."

*

He wouldn't last long. Maxine knew that from the moment she'd seen the big male reading her stress relief book by the flickering light of the fire, seen how his immense shaft was leaking so copiously. She'd known it even more after the first little squeeze of her hand on his almost burning hot penis, that light touch almost enough to send him right over the edge right then and there. Instead of acting on her initial lustful impulse, and simply boffing the sexy lionman until he blew, something Maxine could tell right away would be an awe-inspiring sight in itself, like watching a force of nature in action, Maxine instead decided to draw this out, to make it last.

Taking her time, letting the beautiful male have some time to cool down a little, Maxine leaned in close, her eyes wide as she carefully inspected his full shaft, throbbing slightly in her gentle grip. She couldn't fit her fingers all the way around the immense lion penis (and promptly thought of the phrase "hung like a horse," only to smile to herself at how few human men who made such a claim could back it up like this gorgeous beast could), fascinated at how humanlike it actually was. The entire shaft of thick, heavily-veined male flesh was a uniform and very dark red color, much like Maxine knew an animal's penis was supposed to be, at least for those animals that kept their goodies tucked away in sheaths, like the Conqueror appeared to do, but it had a cap on one end that was very humanlike in appearance, like the glans of a circumcised male, though the Conqueror didn't have a circumcision scar, and Maxine, archaeologist that she was, knew that the ancient Greeks, from which this exquisite male specimen seemed to hail judging from the ancient armor she'd seen lying in the corner of the cave, and also the brief clip of him she'd once seen on television shortly before she'd gone out on her expedition (which is also how she knew who he was), didn't typically practice circumcision. Maxine realized this made sense, though, since, well, the sheath itself would have fulfilled the same biological role as a foreskin on a human. It also made sense, considering this, that the Conqueror didn't have as much of a corona at the base of his glans as a typical human, the plump mushroom cap of his cock transitioning almost seamlessly into the rest of his length. Maxine also noted, as she very lightly stroked her hands up and down the Conqueror's cock, having to use both of them to reach all the way around the nearly searing hot length, though he wasn't as sensitive around the glans of his penis like a typical human male (as Maxine knew from her college experiences), the downward-pointing barbs that lined his length, especially concentrating near the top and down near the base. The spines were quite short and small, more like bumps on a textured condom than real feline spines, and they yielded rather easily to Maxine's stroking hand, relaxing her initial trepidation at the thought of putting anything like that inside of her. As she gave the Conqueror's shaft another slightly more firm squeeze, however, another set of barbs erected fully, folding out from where they'd been nestled against the sides of his shaft, almost out of view like the blade of a folding knife, these looking like red-fleshed rose thorns, three on the top and three on the bottom in a line just below the glans of the penis, and just above where the Conqueror's penis left its sheath. The thought of such brutal implements of pleasure inside of anyone made Maxine's heart start to palpitate, and even finding how rubbery the spines were in texture and "give" didn't allay her rush of fear and arousal in the slightest.

Even if it wasn't her field, Maxine had been to enough exotic places to know a bit about animals, and she knew that feline sex hurt. Those backward-pointing spines on the penis of a lion or a housecat were made for rasping the inside of a female feline's vagina, scraping inside grooves made to receive the sharp-edged barbs, while the larger barbs extended at the moment of ejaculation to grip the inside of the female. This arrangement, while painful, also had the dual action of scraping out the sperm of other males, and stimulating the female into proper ovulation - the more times a she-cat had sex, the more likely that she'd get pregnant. Actually, Maxine vaguely remembered a bit of trivia from some nature show or other, that it took something like four matings, minimum, before a she-cat would have a change to conceive. Stroking her fingers along the undersides of each of those protruding larger barbs, feeling how rubbery they were in texture, firm but not really sharp despite their frightening appearance, Maxine thought about what kind of a male the Conqueror would have to be in order to satisfy a demanding she-cat like she imagined the females of his species were. If...if there were any left. The realization that the Conqueror might be the last of his kind, or worse yet, the only one of his kind ever to exist, filled Maxine with a rush of pity, made even more powerful as she heard the poor huge brute moan almost piteously, the sound nearly a whimper, when she squeezed her fingertips down around the protruding barbs near the tip of his cock. There wasn't anyone, anywhere to satisfy this poor male's needs, and all she was doing was teasing him by making him wait to cum!

"I'm sorry," Maxine whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on the Conqueror's firmly-sculpted belly, just to the side of his navel. "I'm torturing you, aren't I? But I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just hold on a little longer, and it'll feel even better."

*

Hearing the human's words, a woman whose name he didn't even know, the Conqueror's heart went out to her, and he was hers, body and soul. Just knowing that she was going to do for him what no female had done willingly in...he didn't know how long any more, was enough to earn his complete loyalty, more loyalty than he felt he owed the gods, certainly. Not knowing what she planned, the Conqueror just grit his teeth tightly, then tensed his stomach, forcing himself to think of other things, of death and carnage and bloodshed and the aching tedium of years of waiting in a semi-dormant state for the next would-be Guardian to come along and face him in combat - anything to keep from thinking about...about...

"Ah!"

The Conqueror couldn't hold back the cry of surprise as well as pleasure as the gorgeous blonde woman's mouth closed over the tip of his cock, suckling noisily until he heard his claws screeching as they scraped against the rock on which he was seated, all his concentration now taken up simply keeping from bursting. Would he explode into flames when he came? Maybe turn into pure light before going to become one with the stars, like in the legend of Heracles? The Conqueror didn't know, only knowing that he was certainly pent up enough that none of these possibilities were at all unlikely.

Leaning forward, the beautiful blonde woman pressed her breasts up against the shaft of the Conqueror's penis, pressing her arms together to squeeze the firm, upthrust twin mounds around his rigid length, her delicately pink nipples staring up at him like a pair of eyes. And speaking of eyes...rrrr! Those ice blue eyes the woman was looking up at him with - it was driving him crazy, seeing that look of total adoration, worshiping him like he was a god as she slowly thrust her head downward, her lips tightly clasped around his immense cock, her cheeks hollowed out as she did her best to suckle on him. Vaguely, the Conqueror remembered once or twice hearing that the porné of an earlier time might perform such acts for the right amount of coin, but it was considered degrading, even moreso than sodomy, a demonstration of complete and abject submission on the part of the one fellating you. The ancients felt that oral sex was more than just a form of birth control - it was a way to let another ravish your mind as well as your body. This woman...she knew the old ways, the Conqueror could tell from how she'd reacted on seeing the old ruins in the back. She knew what she was doing for him, what it meant. Yet she hadn't hesitated, hadn't held anything back from him as she...oh...oh...!

"Oh gods!" snarled the Conqueror, feeling his sac contract, his whole body starting to tense up, hitting the point of no return and wavering right on its precipice. "It's so...you're so...I can't..."

Hearing the warning sounds of the Conqueror, the blonde woman just picked up her pace, her haste making her sloppy, filling the cave with the sounds of her messy, greedy oral attentions. Releasing her breasts, she grabbed firm hold of the Conqueror's heavy scrotum in both hands, gently squeezing and caressing the soft, tawny-furred sac and the weighty, firm, and so very full balls within. The Conqueror's claws dug deep furrows in the solid rock beneath him as he fought desperately to retain control, to hold on to the very last, his pride not letting him simply give in and enjoy. Then the woman stroked her fingers into the tender spot right behind his balls and right before his anus, and the Conqueror's eyes widened for just a moment, before they rolled back into his head, his entire field of vision exploding into white as orgasm overtook him, shattering all his senses, his impossibly strong fingers punching into the rock beneath him as he gave a mighty roar, his long and very sharp teeth bared in feral ecstasy.

The woman...how she did it, the Conqueror didn't know, but she somehow kept going, plunging her mouth down all the way, letting her throat milk him at the moment of orgasm. Of course she couldn't keep it up for too long, not with how much cum the Conqueror was pumping out, but even when she was forced to pull back, gasping for breath, she continued to pump his shaft with one hand while the other kept working that tender spot in his perineum, applying firm, steady pressure with just a little bit of vibration. After she'd had a few moments to catch her breath, the woman then closed her mouth around the very tip of the Conqueror's cock, swirling her tongue around the still-seeping slit, ignoring the splashes of cum this left on her forehead and cheeks, making his body tremble all over, his fur feeling like it was electrically charged.

Of course, the Conqueror only saw part of this, and that only through slitted eyes, which he'd barely managed to force open to as not to miss more of the beautiful female's efforts than he had to. Never in his life had he ever felt anything so intense! It must have lasted minutes on end, vastly longer than any orgasm he'd ever had by himself, and as he finally slipped into his refractory period, the Conqueror was left trembling all over, his body feeling completely, utterly, wonderfully drained. He was conquered, at the mercy of this gorgeous female. She could do with him as she pleased now, and there was nothing he could do to stop her, even if he were so inclined.

"Maxine," said the woman, lifting her mouth from the Conqueror's stiff staff, giving him a smile. "My name's Maxine."

Maxine...Max...wait...was this woman actually...?

"Are you..." began the Conqueror, forcing his eyes to come back into focus only with an effort, and then marveling for a long moment at the absolute mess he'd made of the sexy fair-haired and fair-skinned female, almost soaking her with his cum as much as she'd been by the rain. "Are you related to the Mighty One?"

"You mean Max?" the woman said with a grin as she glanced down at where the Conqueror had been staring, then giggled, obviously not minding being messy in the least. "He's my son. My goodness, you really needed that, didn't you?"

The Conqueror could only nod a little, resting a bit by leaning back, letting his weight settle onto his huge hands. Of course, this thrust his groin out a bit more, and Maxine's eyes widened as she saw that, even after as incredibly powerful as his orgasm had been, the Conqueror was still as hard as ever.

"Wow," she said, awestruck, making the Conqueror puff out his mane and chest with pride, at least, as much as he could considering the intensity of his recent experience. "You've got a lot still in there, don't you?"

Instead of answering with words, the Conqueror raised himself back to a proper sitting position and reached out, grabbing the slender woman, Maxine, by her waist, pulling her up into his lap. She squirmed and giggled some more as he started to lick her, running his broad, rough tongue over her deliciously smooth, naked body with long, slow strokes, taking his time to savor the tang of his own cum against her sweat-sheened, rain-washed flesh. Her giggles turned to gasps as he suckled on her neck, and then to moans as he began to lap and then to suck on her beautiful breasts, his huge hands stroking their yielding warmth after his tongue had gotten them clean. The Conqueror could smell this female's arousal, her own need, pent up for a long time as well, almost as badly as himself. She was a healthy female, beautiful and generous with her favors, and it struck the Conqueror as a crime of unspeakable proportions that she shouldn't experience the same sort of pleasure that she'd given him.

Thought translated almost immediately to action as the Conqueror held Maxine close with one arm, stroking her back, while the other stroked down her belly, then over the neatly-trimmed escutcheon of bright yellow pubic fuzz that covered her mound of Aphrodite. Maxine's eyes widened, her breath catching as she watched this, and when the Conqueror lovingly engulfed her comparatively tiny sex with his massive paw, working the palm of his hand into her yielding temple of Hymen?us and beginning to stroke her there firmly, bringing his muzzle down as her back arched, making it easy for him to continue suckling on her beautiful breasts, lavishing them each with the attention of his large and astonishingly agile muzzle and deliciously rough tongue, which prickled against her smooth, sensitive pink skin until she was gripping the Conqueror's shoulders as she whimpered like a baby. His finger found the opening of Maxine's vulva, and he easily squeezed himself inside of her sopping wet depths, a soft, sexy growl rumbling in his chest as he began to stroke her inner walls, feeling her whole body starting to tense up. He couldn't help but grin fiercely as Maxine's bottom began to tense and then to squirm where it rested on his thigh, her legs dangling between his own, her hips thrusting with each thrust of his finger, and then fingers as he added a second to the first, and then a third not long afterward, though this made Maxine give off the most adorable high-pitched whining sound. It made the Conqueror smile like a sharp-toothed savage as he realized that she'd never been stretched so far before, making him grow desperately eager to try her tightness with a cock that would surely spread her open so far that...well, only the Mighty One that had parted the waters of her matrix would have filled her more completely!

Realizing how large he was compared to this sexy little sweetling, how strong and how powerful, suddenly filled the Conqueror with an overwhelming sense of raw, virile might. He was the Conqueror! He would show this female the power of one created by the gods themselves! The hand supporting Maxine's back suddenly reached up, seizing firm hold of her hair, making the lithely-toned woman give a squeal of shock as the hulking lionman pulled her back suddenly, though not so suddenly that it would rip out her hair - he liked her blonde tresses, and didn't want to injure them. All the same, her hands went to her hair in shock, leaving her suspended, stretched out and utterly exposed. A moment later, Maxine gave a high-pitched scream as her hips bucked upward, the Conqueror's mighty jaws closing on one plump breast, his fangs only just barely not breaking the surface of her flawless skin. The pain only heightened her sensations all the more, however, as the massive beast started to pound her cunny with his thick, powerful fingers until she was wailing like the scream of the wind outside, her legs kicking in the air as her juices started to gush, soaking the mighty male's paw.

There would be no mercy for this female, that the Conqueror decided. Before poor Maxine had a chance to catch her breath, to even begin to come down from her orgasmic high, both the Conqueror's huge hands went to her hips, hauling her up, lifting her into the air, arranging her so that her legs were splayed, wrapped around his head. His muzzle parted, closing on the slender blonde's flushed and heavily-leaking sex, and now the Conqueror did his best to show Maxine exactly what she'd done to him with her own oral actions earlier, loudly slurping and suckling on her pussy, tugging on its inner lips until they were distended before he thrust his tongue into her with a will. Maxine's scream was the most satisfying that the Conqueror had ever heard as her back arched, her butt tense and clenching rapidly on his broad hands, her hands going to his mane, holding tightly to the male's thick hair as he greedily devoured her most succulent pink parts, the tiny rubbery barbs of his tongue lashing over her clitoris again and again until she was babbling in the midst of her orgasms, making all manner of exclamations and expletives and oaths that she'd likely learned at every port between here and the Americas, and which she surely wouldn't ever want her son, the Mighty One, to know she'd used.

Pulling his muzzle away from Maxine's fluttering cunny, the Conqueror shifted his grip once more from her buns to her hips, slowly letting her slide down his body, her thighs parting as they encountered his waist. She had only a matter of seconds to realize, looking down, that she was positioned over the Conqueror's almost obscenely-sized penis, her eyes widening, her breath quickening as he slowly lowered her down towards his waiting member. Gently mouthing the trembling human woman's neck as he nudged her labia apart with the swollen head of his cock, the Conqueror could feel her pulse pounding hard and fast, could smell the fear and arousal in her sweat, could sense with the power of instinct her uncertainty: would she be able to handle this beast?

Ready or not, she would find out.

"Oh!" Maxine cried out, her voice sweet music to the Conqueror's ears as she reached up, wrapping her arms around the lionman's head to better support herself, to give herself at least some illusion of control as she felt herself starting to stretch open around that magnificent prick squeezing nice and slow into her reluctantly yielding body. "Oooooh-AAAAAHHH!"

That was the cry of a woman being filled by the largest penis she'd ever encountered in her life...and loving it. The larger, thornlike barbs extending from the Conqueror's shaft squeezed firmly against Maxine's G-spot as it first went in, and then against the lesser-known A-spot as it plunged, slow and steady, deeper into her tightly-contracting folds. As those barbs near the glans of the Conqueror's penis stroked her A-spot, her G-spot was being simultaneously stimulated by the barbs near the base. Unable to help herself, Maxine's whole body began jerking and spasming in powerful contractions as her former orgasms continued, wracking her whole body with forces beyond her control. Her legs kicked, her hips bucking desperately while her bottom clenched in powerful spasms, her inner walls almost squeezing that immense shaft right out of her, she was clamping down so tightly, even as all her thrashing and jerking almost lifted her right off of the Conqueror's cock.

"Hold...still!" snarled the Conqueror, wrapping his arms around Maxine, gripping her tightly as he pinned her bent legs up and to her sides. "Now...take it all!"

The sound of the Conqueror's heavy, furry balls slapping against Maxine's bare thighs was enough to instantly silence her, though it did nothing to stop the frantic, fluttering contractions of her thighs and trimly-muscled tummy. Holding the human woman tightly, the Conqueror shifted slightly, getting a good grip at the same time he got himself comfortable, into a good position for what he intended. What he intended, of course, was to claim her utterly, body and mind and soul.

Strength gifted from the immortal gods coursing through his body, it was easy for the Conqueror to start pumping the squirming, cumming blonde female on his shaft, slowly at first, almost gently, but not for long. As the Conqueror's thrusts grew more forceful, more aggressive, even brutal, though, Maxine's body reacted not with pain, but with pleasure. Several times her juices gushed out from around the mighty beast's thrusting shaft, the stimulation given to her by that glorious shaft more than any human was ever meant to experience. Resting his head on her shoulder, the Conqueror growled and grunted like the bestial brute he was as he pumped Maxine harder, faster, savagely rutting her with a roughness that would leave bruises on the trembling, orgasming woman's inner thighs and inner walls for weeks...all of them worth it, as her own loud, sweet cries in counterpoint to the Conqueror's animal noises proved without a doubt.

In a sudden instant, the Conqueror felt himself hit the point of no return, the place past which he couldn't stop his onrushing orgasm. By the gods, this female was good! In the midst of all the loud liquid sounds of their coupling, squelching and slurping and slapping as their bodies impacted against each other time and again, her wails of orgasm as her gorgeous body closed around his hard male shaft like a velvet vise struck the most primitive parts of his already savage brain, turning him on even more than the exquisite tightness of her depths as he sank her down onto him right up to his balls time and time again, soaking the fur of his sac and inner thighs with her copious juices as she yielded to him eagerly, greedily, like a lioness in her first heat. Then, just as she was surely feeling the first spurts of his cum splashing against the gates of her womb, making her cervix start a series of powerful contractions that were just starting to drive her beyond the point of mortal endurance, the Conqueror felt the gorgeous blonde woman kissing the underside of his chin like a mad thing, desperate to taste his body against her lips. Gritting his teeth for a moment as he felt his pleasure hitting its peak, the Conqueror suddenly bent his head downward, capturing Maxine's lips with his own as he started to thrust even more fiercely, making her breasts bounce with each hard slap of his hips against her exquisite flesh, before, suddenly, the kiss was all that was muffling the thunder of their comingled cries, her wail and his roar as the Conqueror's cock began gushing without restraint, making Maxine's body jerk upward like she'd been scalded by its searing heat and geyserlike force against her cervix as her scream reached an all-new high pitch, most of the Conqueror's divinely-powered seed squirting its way almost directly into her uterus, her mortal body's most powerful gate unable to bar entry to such potent male seed.

In a daze, the Conqueror slowly came back to himself, vaguely aware of having lowered himself and Maxine to the cave floor, curling his large body around hers protectively, a pleasant rumble in his chest soothing her to sleep as he wrapped his immense arms around her. Had he slept? It had been so long since he'd enjoyed real, true sleep, and he'd never felt so wonderfully refreshed. The crackling of the fire momentarily drew his attention, however, and the Conqueror saw that the fuel hadn't burned too low, meaning only an hour or perhaps two had passed. As the Conqueror's senses came back to him fully, however, he suddenly became aware of a pleasant wet, warm tightness around his throbbing shaft, and the soft sound of Maxine's humming, her voice muffled by a sizable mouthful. Looking forward and up, the Conqueror's mouth began to water at the sight of Maxine's gorgeous, toned buns thrust toward his muzzle as he lay on his back, her head bobbing rapidly up and down as she orally serviced him once more. Greedy for another taste of her delicious depths, the Conqueror seized Maxine's bum in his massive paws, making her squeak in startlement, before she moaned loudly as he pressed his muzzle firmly against her heavily-leaking cunny and began to hungrily stroke his thick, raspy tongue through her juicy gash. He could taste himself inside of her, and so much more besides, pushing his tongue deep, deep within Maxine's clenching folds, his eyes closing as the Conqueror licked almost at the very gate of her womb, feeling the human woman's inner walls pulsate around his probing, rasping organ.

Only a short while passed in this shared pleasuring, however, before Maxine started to crawl forward, and the Conqueror, curious as to her intentions, allowed her to escape his iron grip. Crawling onto the ground on all-fours, Maxine looked over her shoulder with a lusty, smoldering glance that set the Conqueror's lust on edge. As she continued to crawl forward slowly, keeping her head low, her smooth bottom high, she growled softly, like a wild beast herself, all the while slowly waving her bum back and forth in open invitation, her juices dripping onto the stone floor of the cave mouth.

The Conqueror didn't need a second invitation, and in an instant he was up and behind the teasing little minx. She tried to pull away from him, to tease him further, but he would have none of that, grinning at her naughty squirming, baring his teeth as he held her bottom tightly, squeezing her pink buns, rolling them, then spreading them despite all her struggles as he fit the swollen head of his shaft against her needy cunny, and thrust inside, not bothering with gentleness now that she'd taken him once before, neither of them wanting gentleness at that moment anyway. Maxine and the Conqueror cried out together once more as he started to pound her sexy rump with a will, making her buns bounce with each hard impact of his hips against her upturned tush, her breasts jiggling back and forth with the rest of her body as she thrust herself back to meet each of his thrusts, accepting her mate willingly and eagerly. This time, though, he didn't fill her quim with his seed again; no, he wanted something...tighter, more forbidden, at least in females.

Among the ancient Greeks, the Conqueror remembered sparing a few of the more attractive would-be champions and heroes that had come to battle him in the hopes of becoming legendary, or perhaps even immortal. They had been cowards when he'd overpowered them, falling to their knees to beg him for mercy, and the Conqueror had little stomach for killing cowards, so he had spared each of these pathetic specimens when they asked. There were, however, other uses for such weak males, as they'd soon found out, squealing like little girls as the Conqueror had thrust his mighty shaft without mercy into their baby-smooth bottoms. Now Maxine made a similar noise as, with far more care than he'd ever shown anyone before, the Conqueror pulled his glistening cock from her exquisite tightness, before fitting his glans into place at the clenching rosebud of her anus. For a moment the human woman tensed, glancing back at the huge lionman...and then she reached back, spreading her own buttocks to make his passage easier. Grinning at the willing invitation, the Conqueror nudged his hips forward just a little more, pushing forward a short distance, then pulling back, then forward again with more steady, insistent pressure, looking down to watch as his cock slowly spread Maxine's pink sphincter open until its creases were all gone due to the extreme amount of stretching such penetration required on the business end of so huge a cock as the Conqueror's. With a bared-tooth snarl to answer Maxine's high-pitched wail as he filled her up, the Conqueror hooked one paw around her hips, working his fingers against her clitoris even as he started pumping his hips, slapping her upturned bottom until the pink turned a bright red, his fingers working feverishly until her juices were running in rivers down his hand. On edge as he'd been already, the Conqueror didn't last long in that exquisitely tight heat, and soon he felt his balls contract, only barely restraining himself from another roar by closing his mouth firmly on the back of Maxine's neck, nudging aside her hair in the process to suckle messily on her naked skin, the restraining of his roar turning it into a long, low moan instead.

Hours passed in this way, both lovers wearing each other out with pleasure and passion, Maxine's greater experience giving her just enough of an edge to keep up with the Conqueror's superhuman sexual abilities, abilities that until that moment of stolen time he'd never known existed. Her pupil in matters sexual so eager and so biddable, Maxine even let him take her anally a second time, lowering herself down onto his erect shaft, holding it in place with her hands as he lay on his back, pressing herself down until the bend in his shaft caused by the pressure of her reluctant sphincter suddenly straightened, filling her with a sudden stuffing that, strangely enough, brought a pleasure all its own. They only did this once more, though: he was simply too big for her to be able to handle that sort of penetration very often. There were a host of other positions, though, and Maxine was eager to give the Conqueror a guided tour through some of her favorite positions, which she'd learned from sacred statuary in India, murals on the insides of Greek whorehouses, and crudely-illustrated clay tablets in temples in Mesopotamia, their sweat-slick, pleasure-fatigued bodies clashing together again and again as they writhed like civilized beasts in all the forms of lovemaking.

Both lovers awoke to the sound of birdsong, the rain of the night before having given way to the bright light of day, Helios' chariot high in the sky as he brought light and life to all beneath him. The Conqueror stroked Maxine's naked back, smiling in answer to her own smile up at him, the expression strange on his bestial face, but not unpleasant at all.

"I think your clothes are dry now, Maxine," he said in a soft rumble, making Maxine giggle.

"I guess so. Guess I oughta go and earn my pay, too," she added as she slowly, reluctantly extricated herself from the arms of her inhuman lover. "After all, I've got ruins to explore."

"Perhaps I can help you there," the Conqueror offered as he also rose to his feet, pulling on an undercloth he wore to pad his dangling parts from his armor's codpiece, even while admiring Maxine's beautiful body as she dressed. "Would you like a tour of an ancient Atlantean outpost from someone who was there when they were built?"

"Would I ever!" exclaimed Maxine in delight, shouldering her pack and hefting a large notebook she'd retrieved from its depths in her eagerness. "When can we start?"

"For you, Maxine, any time at all," answered the Conqueror with a chuckle. "Though I think now would be most to your liking."

"Yes please!"

*

"So...that's it, isn't it?" said Max, a dazed but happy expression on his young face as he stood on the front walk leading to his house, the glow of the portal he and his companions had just gone through just barely dying away. "We won, didn't we?"

It made sense that Max would be cautious. After all, he'd already been through time once in order to undo the evil of Skullmaster, and Skullmaster was notorious for being almost impossibly cunning, a master strategist who Max was only able to match with wits at the best of times, and with the help of his companions and friends, Virgil the Lemurian fowl, and Norman the Guardian.

"I think it is," said Virgil, a look of utter astonishment on his face as he absentmindedly wiped the soot and grime from his long red robes, then started to reach toward Max's own smudged face, only to have the young blonde teen push the fowl's feathered hand away. "I really didn't think it could be done, and yet...yet it honestly appears as though you've rewritten history, Mighty One. For the better."

"Skullmaster won't be bothering anyone for a long, long time," said Virgil with a smug smirk, punching his fist into his open hand with enthusiasm. "Now c'mon, I'm starved."

"Me too," agreed Max with a laugh, running up the walk, smiling as he noticed his mom's car in the driveway, meaning that she was home from that trip to the Mediterranean she'd told him about before they'd gone their separate ways. "Hey, and Mom's home, too! Guess we can try and talk her into cooking some real food for us, if she's not too tired out from digging up priceless Atlantean artifacts."

Unlocking the door and walking inside, his friends right behind him, Max immediately saw his mother's shoes in their proper place by the door, and pressed forward into the house, eager to see her again. It might have only been a few months, but it felt like...like forever!

"Mom!" Max called out in enthusiasm, hurrying a little faster when he heard the sounds of something cooking on the stove in the kitchen. "Mom, we're home, and we...Mom?"

Max's eyes widened as he stepped into the kitchen and, instead of seeing his mother, saw a familiar towering lionman, dressed in his mother's apron, and nothing else. The Conqueror glanced down at the young man and grinned toothily. Max felt a moment of fear, taking a step backward, but then felt Norman's looming presence behind him, and looked up at the intruder with an expression that was at once angry and curious.

"Where's Mom?" asked Max. "We've just been through a whole lot of work saving the world and stuff, and I was kinda hoping to get to see her now that it's all over."

"Your mother's taking a nap upstairs, Mighty One," the Conqueror said with a casual shrug, motioning with his head toward the stairs leading up. "She's been coming home pretty tired the last few days. I'm cooking stir fry; your mother showed me how after we got back, about a month ago. Want some?"

Blinking in some confusion, Max looked at the Conqueror's face to see if the big furry beast was joking or something. Seeing that the lionman was serious, he then looked up at Norman. The big Guardian just shrugged, obviously as confused as Max, and then looked toward Virgil. Virgil, for his part, was actually just coming down the stairs, having apparently gone up to check on the Conqueror's claim about where Max's mother would be. Seeing the questioning eyes of both Max and Norman on him, the Lemurian cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you shouldn't go a see your mother just yet, Mighty One," the very proper avian scholar said with a strange flush beneath the feathers of his cheeks. "She is rather indisposed right now."

"Wait, indisposed?" Max asked worriedly. "As in, she's got something wrong with her sort of indisposed?" He was just starting toward the stairs, only to have Norman's hand on his shoulder bring him to a full stop.

"Um, Mighty One?" Norman offered, his own cheeks flushing as he apparently got what Virgil had been saying, glancing back toward the nearly-naked lionman at the stove. "I think what Virgil's saying is, um...your mother's dating that guy."

It took a total of about eight seconds before Max, not terribly experienced with this sort of thing, but also extremely smart for a young teenager, suddenly got what his friends were telling him, his own face suddenly turning a bright red as well.

"Oh," he said, blinking a few times in a daze. "Oh. I...I guess I see." Looking toward the Conqueror, Max reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, uh, I guess...I guess stir fry sounds good, Mister Conqueror."

"Just Conqueror, Mighty One," said the hulking, tawny-furred male with a friendly smile. "I'll go and tell your mother you're home right after I get your food. All the work setting up a bigger expedition out to the Mediterranean, to dig up all the ruins she found thanks to Virgil there," he motioned toward the Lemurian, who smiled with more than a little pride even as he seated himself at the table in the kitchen to wait for his food. "That, and getting me a visa wasn't exactly easy either. All hard work for a pregnant woman."

Max had just been going through the fridge, Norman right behind him to take whatever Max might hand him, when he heard that. His fingers going numb, it was only Norman's fast reflexes that saved the bottles of milk and orange juice from smashing on the kitchen floor.

"I keep telling her she should slow down a little," the Conqueror continued, not seeming to notice Max's reaction as he began dishing out generous helpings of stir fried vegetables and noodles onto plates, then turning to set them on the kitchen table, nodding in response to Virgil's quiet word of thanks. "But she's determined, and she never gives up. I guess that's a big part of why I love your mother so much, Mighty One." The Conqueror grinned toothily, obviously off in his own world. "Looks, brains, personality, and she's the mother of the Mighty One on top of all that." He glanced at Max as Norman helped the obviously overwhelmed kid to a chair at the table. "But then, I guess she'd have to be all of that. After all, she raised you, and you're the one who beat me, Mighty One. That hasn't been done in ten-thousand years."

"I suppose," said Virgil in his usual calm fashion, "that your adventures aren't quite at an end just yet, Mighty One."

"Yeah," said Max, shaking his head as he worked his way through the last vestiges of his shock. "Guess there's a bigger adventure waiting for me now, isn't there?"

"Biggest adventure in the world," said Norman with a wry smirk. "Living life to the fullest."

"I don't know," Max said uncertainly as he poured out some juice for himself, and then for his friends. "It's just...I've taken on vampires, and Cyclops, and ogres, and mad scientists, and aliens, and giant spiders. But dealing with being a big brother?"

"Who better to do the job than the Mighty One?" countered Virgil. "After all, Norman and I have been with you all the way so far, and we've trained you well, if I do say so myself."

"We're still gonna be there for you, Mighty One," said Norman reassuringly, patting Max on the shoulder with surprising gentleness for such a big man. "After all, even if we've beaten Skullmaster, there's still a whole world of adventure for you out there, and we're gonna be a part of it."

"Heh, I guess you're right," Max replied with a smile spreading across his face. "But as long as I've got you two, I can handle whatever comes."

"Don't forget me," said the Conqueror as he made up another plate and started toward the stairs, tufted tail lashing behind his firmly-sculpted buttocks as they flexed with each step. "Or your mother. After all," he added with a wink before starting up the stairs, "I'm going to be your father now, Mighty One: it just wouldn't be right to let you rush off into danger alone."

"Oh boy," said Max, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Here we go again."