Goldenrod Forever

Shortly after her eighteenth birthday, Maxine began to experience a new desire. Her first attempt to gratify it occurred while she and her then-boyfriend Todd were lying naked in bed together, after having sex the usual way.

"Do it for me?"

"I don't know. It seems kind of gay."

"How can it be gay? We're a girl and a guy."

"I'm supposed to be the penetrator. I'm the masculine one." They both became aware again of Maxine's physique; she was a sexy girl though undeniably a jock, blurry shadows underscoring her burgeoning musculature, with breasts maybe too small but pleasingly perky. Todd stared at the ceiling with worry.

"I ride you all the time. Is cowgirl gay?"

"No, it isn't..." She waited a moment for him to say more. Inspiration struck her and she rolled to kiss him on the mouth while caressing his far shoulder. Her hand slid to his pelvis to find him erect, and she mounted to take him inside her. She began to rock, and he sighed, already flying.

Maxine employed her body's full power as if making a point, the bed repeatedly creaking and then slamming the wall. Todd moaned with abandon and she knew she'd won. Sparing only an instant to work out the method, she moved her hands from her adamantly grinding hips and planted them on the sheet at either side of his head. Her taut abs pressed down upon his belly as her weight fell forward to let her straighten and lift her legs, which she then dropped between his. Again she rolled her ass with his member still buried, successfully taking him in the missionary position. His head came up in confusion to study the arrangement but she caught his hair in her fingers and pulled it back down, more kisses on his wet and parted lips undoing the last of his concern. She studied his expression as the slamming intensified, bringing him inevitably to orgasm. Effectively, she had become the male in the relationship, at least for that moment.

"Take it, bitch," she taunted, and to her great surprise and delight he cried out his satisfaction. From there it was a short step to aggressively dryhumping and fingering his ass; her eyes remaining locked on him as he became increasingly distant, but also ever more obedient to her directives. Finally, she had donned her harness and positioned him on all fours at the corner of the bed.

Ready to enter his virgin rear, she stooped briefly to part him and lube the hole with her spit, exhibiting the same willingness to get down and dirty that had thrilled her and others on the soccer field. Her thumb ground the saliva in and with the speed of genuine enthusiasm she stood up and fed him the shaft with both hands, head raised to the ceiling in almost ecstatic triumph, navigating the portal by feel alone. When she'd filled him she took hold of his hips.

Her manner was restless, not knowing what to do with her hands or how to coordinate them with the thrusts of the rubber cock; she was even more awkward than she'd been the first time she'd had sex normally. Now though she was in control, and unsteadiness came from an overabundance of ideas that she wanted to try. She would only need to streamline her technique. The first time she had to press his torso back down onto the mattress, Maxine knew it would be alright.

Nearing the school year's end, she had pegged half the boys in the graduating class. Todd was ancient history at that point: she couldn't get enough men. It wasn't uncommon to see her introducing herself to a strange guy as he stood at his open locker, she with her backpack slung over her shoulder and her short brown ponytail messily splayed all over her head. The odds were very good that after such an encounter she'd be deeply inside him within a week. At that time she didn't know how to explain her good fortune except with the youthful vitality that was the golden key for so many athletes, but she soon would.

The only one who could keep pace with her libido was named Jeff. She was thoroughly charmed by the way his toes curled, his legs stiffened in the air and his thighs shook, when she first had him in the missionary pose which had become part of her signature style. No other man had sobbed gratefully when being pounded. Someone who loved pegging that much and reacted to her attention like Jeff did was all that she wanted sexually, and they became an item.

His eagerness was also why it came as no surprise to Maxine when she found him getting gangbanged by members of both teams in the girls' locker room after a volleyball game one Tuesday.

There were five players wearing strap-ons in various states of undress. Jeff was bent over and clutching the harness of the one he was blowing, who was wearing her jersey and shorts. The one who was fucking him in the ass was tall, toned and tan, had a long ponytail of straight, fine, dark hair, and wore nothing but black socks and sneakers. Her hips snapped like whip cracks. The other three girls stood by watching, waiting their turns, stroking their rubber dicks, and seething with anticipation. The young man's gaze met Maxine's from over his red, wet cheeks as they were continually inflated and deflated. The one who was fucking his mouth also looked at her.

"Hey, Max. You want in on this?" she said in a friendly manner, unaware the two were dating. The tan girl stopped pumping. Maxine regarded her for a second, stared back down at Jeff, and departed. "More for us," the first one said, and pulled his hair to her crotch, gagging him. The assault on his backside resumed.

As she waited in the parking lot to walk home with him, Max felt increasingly uneasy. She observed his bike was still chained to the rack and doubled back to the field house to see what the matter was. When she got there the building was empty, and on the bench near where the girls had been running their train was a worn out paperback.

"The Golden Flower And You: Wisdom For A New Millennium," she read aloud. She put the book in her bag, and started home.

After a week, Jeff's whereabouts remained unknown. Max had told no one about the book she'd found, leaving it in her room as though it were hers. Seeing it as her only lead, she found it remarkably difficult to gain further information. Neither the author nor the publisher had any presence online, and there was nothing to be found about either at the public or school libraries. All five of the girls who had used Jeff left for a vacation they'd planned for spring break, but the word in her homeroom was that they'd been in contact with the police via phone and were said to know nothing about him.

Walking downtown the next Thursday, she saw a sign featuring a golden lotus above the entrance to the courtyard of a renovated factory. Max took the book from her bag and compared it to the image. Suddenly certain, she went inside.

It looked like the front room of a dance studio, with a reception desk, potted plants, art on the walls, and coats hung up. In a minute, a woman emerged from the other door wearing only yoga pants, running shoes and a sports bra. Her strawberry blond hair was tied back and her eyes were large and kind.

"Hi, I'm Shelly. Can I help you?"

"My name's Max. Is this book from here?" she asked, handing it over. The woman's spirits fell as she examined it.

"No, this isn't one of ours," she replied, her tone flat. "If you're interested in this sort of material, I have some pamphlets..." The disappointment in Maxine's face halted her. "Why don't I make you a cup of tea, and we can talk a while." She gently put her arm around the girl and lead her to the inner chamber.

Maxine told everything to Shelly while the older woman listened attentively, with a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was again struck by the peculiarity of her luck, how easy it was to explain her interest in pegging, just as it had been almost too simple to frequently indulge her lust for it. Rather than put her mind to rest, it was eerily coincidental when Shelly let a seven inch latex dick emerge from her pants through a hidden hole, to assure the girl that she had come to the right place. Once the story was over, the witch paced around the study thoughtfully, and suggested Max return in a week at ten in the morning, citing a strong possibility that they could locate Jeff. She accepted the invitation. Shelly told her to bring her strap-on.

When she came back, Max was conducted to a chapel filled with women sitting in audience. On the stage was a white screen with a caduceus projected on it. Shelly stood at the podium now dressed, Max thought, like a commando. When she saw the girl, she smiled, and placed her hands beside the mic. The room became silent.

"Everyone here is at a different skill level, but what I'll be discussing is important to all of us. Some of the technical data will be familiar to the more advanced; I beg their patience while I bring the others up to speed. What you see beside me is the symbol of the two levels of existence, mind and matter. The primary difference between ourselves and the dark witches is one of polarity. We see magic as the mechanics of the verbal at work in generating circumstances. They see prizes to obtain with our art, including innocents who they would subjugate. The conflict created by these opposing views has given rise to different philosophies. While we work secretly to spread the light of the Goddess, the renegades want to use her power to preserve their physical forms indefinitely."

Max looked around as a murmur spread through the room.

"It is their belief that through millennia of pegging the evolution of the human race can be guided to a new order of life, in which all individuals are Wills. Naturally, from our point of view this is a hopeless effort. We know that performing any action, good or bad, produces between the subject and object what physicists call entanglement, and a karmic deficit is the result. Time is merely an illusion inherent in the restoral of balance as it plays itself out. After cosmic justice is served, and the righteous rewarded or the wicked punished, the process can begin again. The renegades believe they will escape this cycle, that their actions can be modified to be free of consequences."

There was more muttering.

"We know now how they plan to accomplish this." The slide changed to a diagram of Earth showing the western hemisphere. On and around it were fifty or so red Xs. "Beneath this building are tunnels that were long ago repurposed into a crypt. Interred there are the remains of the Goddess's consort. After their union was achieved, the man underwent a transcendental awakening, causing him to emit an aura which illuminates the invisible. The halo is still saturating these premises, and through it we have become aware of the appearance of multiple unidentified entities at various points in the planet's environment. We aren't sure what they are, but it is a fact that they are steadily driving up the ambient magical energy of our world." The slide was replaced by a photograph showing the same angle of Earth, but where the Xs had been were communications satellites, and pagan sacred sites that were labelled as homes to megaliths and dolmens. "All but one of the focal points on this web have physical counterparts with major scientific or occult values. All are connected by ley lines. How the renegades learned about it we don't know, but we must assume they also have someone on their side who has ascended, and can guide them to the last unoccupied intersection in this net."

The slide changed again, to show an extremely vibrant and affluent looking woman. Max found her familiar.

"This is Geraldine Sage, one of the young billionaires who currently treat the media as a vanity mirror. Several of the satellites in this cat's cradle are hers. Some beam out private femdom movie channels, and others supply the renegades with a secure intranet. Her appetite for pegging, though not common knowledge, is colossal. What was reported by the major networks recently, is that she has sponsored the erection of a copper monolith on a nearby, but totally deserted island. That location is the last empty node of the psychosphere."

The screen went blank and then displayed a small, wooded landmass, surrounded by sea.

"Our mission is to prevent the synchronization of this hotspot and the enemy's energy. In doing so, we will affirm our view of magic as activity based on logic and freedom, while simultaneously disproving the renegade field theory that would enslave our species to the power of the material plane. There's likely to be security protecting their ritual, so expect to encounter heavy resistance. Are there any questions? ...Then get ready, and know this: we can become entrenched in endless shows of force which profit only the agents of darkness, or the struggle for this intellectual property can end in our final victory over these heretics. It's in your hands. Goddess, be with us."

In the courtyard, Max watched in awe as the witches who'd attended the meeting took to the skies. Dicks out like dowsing rods, they rode the currents of sorcery to their destination. Shelly walked up behind her.

"You can also do it. I had to make sure you know what the risks are. Jeff is likely the one they've chosen for the ceremony. You have a right to know that, too."

"Thank you," Max said.

"No one will judge you if you choose not to come."

"But how could I..."

"Remember what I said in there. Magic is filling the world. Just let your dick stand, tap into the flow, and you too can do what you will." Shelly urgently squeezed her upper arm, and bolted up into the noonday sun, invisible to the city dwellers around them.

"I can do it," Max whispered, testing the sound of it for truth. She stood stock still for a few seconds, and then quickly took off everything but her harness. Her skin became invulnerable and insensitive to pain. She smiled. "Up I go." She gulped. Wobbling slightly, she rose a few inches. "Ha ha!" It was just like a dream. She thought of comic books, movies she'd seen of people soaring through the clouds, and she was away.

"Wooooooooo-hoooooooo!"

When Maxine arrived at the island the witches were already descending to the natural stone amphitheater, bolts of purple energy flying from their dicks to blow film equipment and computer banks loudly into atoms. The renegades fought back and soon the air was deadly with supernatural crossfire. Max spied the tan girl from the locker room kneeling behind Jeff as he waited on all fours. This time other than her strap-on she wore only an ornate shoulder mantle and a crown of golden leaves. Through the furious skirmish Max shot with steel determination to bodycheck her rival hard and send the priestess tumbling through the electrified space into the metal obelisk behind her. It collapsed with the human projectile that had hit it and cheers went up from several directions, obscured by waves of violently displaced soil and crackling sheets of searing light that were rearranging the landscape. Max slid one arm under Jeff's, and with the other she lifted his knees to carry him up into the clouds, as tornados of pure willpower dissolved what was left of the island into patches of shimmering oblivion. It was long moments before the couple could hear each other again over the battle's thunder.

"You rescued me." She smiled.

"I hope you haven't been traumatized," Max said.

"Actually, I sort of enjoyed being captive." The girl frowned.

"Well, you're all mine now."

He rested his head contentedly upon her neck, and she streaked across the troposphere, to fly them both back home.