Curses

Chapter 21 - Valkyries, a Pleasurable Promenade, and Mead

We landed in the back yard, and shed our dragon wings (which were the same as our demon wings, but Melody liked the name better). Not knowing what to expect, she kept her pony pecker for the time being. Then we made a pit stop in the basement for a pee (and a quick fuck--after all, that horse dong was just hanging there).

After that we set off to find the mystery sisters Val and Honor. We were still starkers, but I was pretty sure our cloaking was still in that zone where people could see us but not register what they saw. This seemed just as well, since we each grew at least two feet taller in transit, with boobs sized to match. I also re-acquired a dick--a huge human one to echo the stallionesque one Melody was cheerfully holding.

She looked me up and down. "Cool! I like how your clit ring always ends up fastened to your glans. Oh, and you got a Nordic blonde thing going on."

I looked down to my still bald mons.

"Topside, silly goose." She was starting to sound like Olivia.

I drew into view a handful of my now golden, and rather sweet (if tangled) hair; and was generally admiring our current upgrades when it occurred to me that I was still 'cursed'--or contracted, if you like--to service my Central Park ex-Medusa. Yet here she was, following me to my next assignment. This appointment schedule deal of Oli's was apparently another reinterpretation of curse rules of engagement.

Several passing guys gave us side-eye, either trying to focus on the hotties their brains told them should be there, or possibly--given our proximity to Oli's home base--just trying not to stare.

Anyway, we found the right house, thanks to the mailbox being boldly labeled in Oli's handwriting ... with just their first names.

The door was unlocked as promised, so we ducked our eight-foot frames through the regular-sized doorway into an entry hall. On our immediate right was a coat rack and umbrella stand. What stood out was the selection of broadswords, battleaxes, and maces they held ... as well as a short spear and three umbrellas. This didn't seem to fit our 'Sexual Fantasy Fulfillment' job description.

"Hiya, Val? Honor? Its Olivia's sisters, come to visit."

"Welcome! She told us to expect you. Come down the hall to our room. Your gear is here."

We found them lying side by side, naked and spread-eagle in the middle of a big four-poster bed. Oli had neglected to mention they were identical twins--and beautiful, with high cheekbones and almond eyes, plus ample breasts and gaping pussies. And, like Captain Jim, and Olivia's other regular clients, they'd prepared for our visit.

Although I believed (perforce) that the various kinks of my clients were a turn-on, my eyes widened a little. All of their limbs had been reduced to stumps ... each tipped with an iron cap, to which was anchored a big eye bolt.

To continue this theme, large decorative rings--also of iron--variously penetrated their tits and clits, most supporting silvery bells. The rest of their ornamentation consisted of leather collars, random scars, and Nordic tattoos. The tats on their pubic mounds, although runic in style, clearly read:

BEARER COUPLING

HERE

V

My cock came to attention as I realized I was to be a bearer; but really this only seemed the polite response, given the beauty of our hosts. Also polite were introductions: "This is Melody, and I am called Dani." I nearly added, 'and I will be bearing one of you by your notch this evening'.

"Greetings. This is my sister Honor; I am Valor. I'm glad to see that Olivia let this be our surprise." To be honest, not much surprised me after the events of the past few days; and I was sure Melody was already in the same zone. Still, I was fascinated to discover the delightful range and depth of sexual imagery most of my clients brought to the table--or, in this case, to the bed.

"Your armor and harnesses are just over there," Honor chimed in. She nodded her head to a small pile of stuff that had been laid out on a side table next to their closet ... the door of which was, as Oli had warned me, labeled 'PORTALS'.

We quickly pulled on the soft leather boots at the top of the pile before helping each other strap into the battered and patched Viking-type accessories: leather shoulder, forearm and shin guards, plus equally seasoned helmets (mine sported a broken horn). Once we'd added the harnesses that were intended to help support the sisters, they inspected us carefully before nodding their approval.

Melody certainly passed muster with her flame red hair above and below ... and some new scars, bruises and runic tattoos to add to the affect. She had also acquired--like the sisters--iron nipple rings, each with a large silver bell. Apparently, our kind were too proud to sneak up on our enemies.

Between the armor and my existing tattoo collection (plus some scars of my own added for the occasion, and a pair of those boob-bells), I was pleased to see that my reflection in the wall-mirror equaled hers, insofar as we looked like just the sort of hard-assed Valkyrie warriors who would wear their fierce, mutilated sisters to one last battle.

"That will do nicely," Val confirmed.

Shifting into character, I roughly hoisted her up and over my now drooling dong, and slammed her down as was expected of me.

"Gods, yes! That's the stuff!"

"Valor, your love-harbor is always so snug and hot!"

Basically, my cock supported her enough that my hands were free to shackle the chains hanging from my shoulder-straps to the eye-bolts that replaced her arms. Meanwhile Melody helped by securing her leg stumps to chains on my belt ... and then she turned to Honor, whose eyes were shining at the promise of a horse-cock to carry her.

We repeated the process and, once the excited Honor was enthroned (or, more accurately, impaled) on her own mount, Val announced, "Now, our lovely sisters, you shall march with us around the bounds of our lands."

Well, that was clear enough, barring the number of laps around the block they wanted.

"Don't forget weapons," Val added as we were about to pass the umbrella stand. I wasn't keen--I'm all about lust, not war.

"The mighty Olivia prefers the hammer," said Honor. This meant that I probably wasn't going to have to bash anyone so, you know, hurray. I took one from the coat rack and hung it from my belt. Obviously, I'd also be under-dressed without a shield. I chose the smallest and slung it over my back.

Melody wasn't so fussy. She clearly felt that a weapon for each hand was necessary should a berserker charge be required of her. Of course in the meantime she needed her hands for other uses, so she stowed a broadsword through a loop at her back, and hung a morning star at her side.

A bit of history percolated--pedantically--into my head. "Those long handled iron maces were for use on horseback."

She looked down to the distant floor from her eight-foot height, and then rubbed the base of her horse-shaft where it entered Honor. "It'll do," she said.

Valor let out a snort.

"Fair enough," I admitted. Setting out the door, I found that Val's chains took most of her weight, so that she was riding my member up and down as I marched. The result was that she was grunting and moaning, while her bells tinkled, and her chains rattled and clanked like Marley's ghost. I could hear Honor making the same racket as we strode back to the sidewalk.

I randomly chose to turn left, and since the sisters didn't object (speech likely being beyond them just now) I figured a lap or two of the block would serve. They were soon orgasming, helplessly writhing as we caressed and kneaded their soft flesh ... and pumped our first rounds of cum into them. Yet to my surprise, even when I started tweaking on the rings fixed to Val's teats and clit, nobody on the street paid any attention to the four of us.

Although, on reflection, we were a brace of armored Amazons who were obviously engaged in fucking ecstatic torsos bound to our bellies ... so that probably trumped the teasing thing.

"Good evening, ladies," said an elderly woman as we neared the first corner. She was being towed by a singularly ugly little dog.

We slowed, and Honor caught her breath enough to gasp, "Good evening, Mistress Brown... oooff ... You too, Buster." Her delivery was further garbled by surplus jizz which was trickling from her nose and the corners of her mouth. But Brown simply gave us that indulgent smile elders reserve for those youths following in their carnal footsteps.

A half block up the side street, two skateboarders cruised past--the same ones I'd encountered on Monday, back when I'd stepped out wearing my skimpy pirate rig. "Better watch out for that Loki dude, my Ladies," said one, saluting us with a grin.

"Thank you for the ... acck ... warning, Toby," Val managed with a gurgled croak.

Okay, I thought, as I continued along the sidewalk with a bouncing limbless girl rolling her head against my pillowy boobs. So much for keeping under the radar. The extent to which the neighbors had accustomed themselves to weird shit was as much a marvel as the sisters' odd choice of turn-on. Little did I know.

It was a pleasant evening, so we added the next block to our procession. More folks greeted us in passing, and often stopped us to caress or kiss Val and Honor--even though they were lathered with spunk and sweat ... and milk, thanks to our now drizzling boobs. By this time they were limp from continuous stimulation (which is to say their heads rolled loose), given that any contact with their uber-sensitized skin would drive their relentless orgasms onward. Still, they were most grateful for the touch of their friends, and managed to generate purrs of satisfaction in return ... although our cocks were privy to their inner turmoil.

By the time we got back to their door our wards were both dozing. Gently, so as not to wake them, we slipped our clubs and shit back where it all belonged. And then Melody nodded her head toward a half open door to the living room. It was decorated with paintings and held a big-screen TV and stereo but, for the rest, what I saw looked like a hospital ward--there was a big two-seater cot with bedrails, where the sisters obviously slept, along with racks of towels, bedding, and sundry mystery stuff.

I stared at Melody. These two were the real deal--not Valkyries (probably) but quad-amputees. I had no idea why their fantasies didn't include limbs--why not, say, be ballet dancers?

Sobered, we walked back with them to the bedroom where the now absent (or hidden) care staff must have laid them out for us. The girls revived as soon we stepped inside. The next part of our assignment was at hand--beyond the big bed, the closet doorway/portal stood ajar.

We marched through into a large square chamber with a door on each side. The one directly opposite us was oaken, and iron hinged. Carved in its face was the word, 'Valhalla'. Val and Honor were positively trembling. Well, they were still stuffed with our massive cocks ... but they were also clearly anticipating this visit to the Viking afterworld.

And yet Honor chose this moment to say, "Thalidomide."

"Say what?" Melody asked, while turning to me so that Honor could face at least one of us.

"I was a bit out of it," she said with a still frothy smile, "but I saw you two take a look in our real bedroom. You must have wondered."

I'd heard of the stuff--a morning sickness drug with disastrous consequences. "Okay, we were curious. But, that all went down years ago. How ...?"

Val began to again gently massage the length of my rigid shaft she held inside her, and began: "True enough. But the point is we were born this way. Our birth parents couldn't cope, so our first memories are of this house and the people in it. It has lots of living space for care aids and even their families. Over the years many people have come and gone, but there's always been Mama Grace and her daughter Olivia."

My double-take caused Val to gasp and rattle her chains, so Honor took over. "Much later we discovered that one of our nurses, um ... knew Oli, and told her about us. So Grace and Oli bought this place for us, and quietly took over our care. One or both still come here pretty much every morning--Oli looks about twelve with us and her mom."

"Right," said Val. "We were literally little couch potatoes in those days. Still Mama or Oli would read to us, or wheel us around the park and stuff. And the neighbors and their kids would greet us or join us like we were a regular family. Everybody seemed to know Oli."

"Then, when we turned eight we had a party," Honor picked up the story again. "And after, she carried us into this closet ... and through that blue door there. She set us down in a magical meadow, and told us to go play in the stream ... and we could! We spent the whole night there--skipping and running in the sunshine--but when she put us to bed, afterward, it was ages before dawn. We spent the time comparing notes, trying to figure out how we'd both had the same dream."

Val's eyes sparkled at the memory. "Oli took us back about once a week--she'd tow us on our bed-cot instead of making two trips--and we learned to play catch, and swim and climb... and, especially, to feed ourselves. Oli always brought along a picnic from the real world."

Honor picked up the tale. "Ten years later, we celebrated another birthday." By my calculations, that would have been some forty years ago. "We'd caught up and passed Oli, age-wise, but she's magical, right? Which is why we weren't totally surprised when she showed up that evening with a big basket of food and wrapped toys ... and she was a foot taller and looked the same age as us. 'Time to learn about the birds and the bees,' she says. Although, to be fair, we'd seen each other's pussies every day of our lives and at some point had learned to lick one another ... on the sly. Anyway, she grinned and pulled off her dress, and then our blanket, before she towed us and the party basket in here ..."

It was Val's turn again: "That night, she took us through a new door--that green one. And this time, we were all three of us bare-ass. Honor and I got a detailed, hands-on lesson in anatomy and, you know, sexual response ..." --here she chuckled-- "and then we unwrapped our toys!"

"Naturally Oli showed us how and where to use them," put in Honor. "She even finally explained how her regular gig was to fulfill sexual fantasies, and how she'd been doing it since 'Christ was a cowboy'."

That, although I doubted it, might literally be true.

"Me and Valor," she continued, "were still going hard at it with our new double-ender, when Oli said she was going to let us 'get to know one another better', while she popped off to meet up with a client. And the way she said it, we knew we were way more to her than just 'clients'--we were her sisters and her lovers!"

"After that," Val finished, "Oli kept coming regularly ... hah. Only we still needed her to lug us into the closet. And we'd alternate doors. Mind you, we could all snuggle and smooch and screw behind either door. Or swim and run ... and fly. In fact they're connected. It was just a chance for Honor and I to declare how we'd like to start the day's games. Then on our next birthday Oli ... well, that brings us to what we did just now. She took us, in turns, around the block. She still does. It's totally special! It's our favorite, and Oli's, because we can do it in our own bodies, out in the real world."

Melody came over all weepy ... okay, so did I. She leaned down and gave Val a proper, long-tongued kiss. And since I couldn't yet do the same for Honor--who was now hanging horizontally from her chains--my girlfriend thoughtfully thrust the girl back and forth along the length of the meat-shaft that filled her.

We reversed this performance after Val came, her body trying impressively to crush my cock. Leaning forward helped loosen her up so I could swing her properly when I shared a kiss with Honor, who--bonus--tasted of Melody's most recent flush of tasty fresh cum.

When I finally stood back upright, Val said, "That was when she added this third door, for after-parties. Onward to Valhalla!"

"And Mead!" Honor added.

Throwing open the tall oak door revealed a fire-lit hall, with heavy plank benches and tables--several of which held wooden kegs, braced on their sides and fitted with old-school taps. It was like a scene from one of those sword and sorcery shows. In the dimness, perhaps twenty rough-looking people ate, drank ... and fucked. They were dressed much like us: as though they had been lifted from a battlefield, their weapons and their cares left behind, if not their boisterous pleasures.

But I was almost certain they were all regular folks, not fantasy 'extras'. And six of their number were our doppelgangers--three more limbless Shield-Maidens, and their proudly equipped bearers.

"Over the years," said Val, "we've found others like ourselves, but not many who managed to have much of a life. Those three 'maidens', though, we were able to ... Whoaa!"

I looked up--after all, she was facing the same way as me--and, beyond the cock-mounted girls who were sharing their bearers' mead, I spotted Oli ... and Gracie.

So did Honor. "Mama!"

I was fairly sure that up until now Grace had been stuck at forty, maybe for eons; but then the twins apparently hadn't aged since their eighteenth birthday either. Plus afterwards they'd probably seen Oli regularly bounce back and forth from twelve to twenty, depending on whether Gracie was around. If I'd lived with that sort of flexibility with time, I'd have recognized her too.

She waved at us--and I waved back, suddenly aware that my new family included two more sisters (at least). But I also grasped that my inclusion --and now Melody's--had somehow triggered a monumental change, insofar as Gracie had been 'promoted' from mother to sister, to be brought fully into Oli's fantasy world ... into our world.

Fin