Dales - of Gods and Goddesses

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

All comments good or bad welcomed. I will try and reply to each and every one but please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read.

Another in the Dales setting, you can enjoy the previous stories for settings but this one will stand alone.

It was to be a quiet few days at the cottage. I had just finished a major rework of the client's plans and schedules and agreed it with their senior projects manager. I left them to it and would check on progress next week. My own schedule was therefore easy and a few days quiet and relaxation would be just the ticket. I parked in Lidl carpark and picked up a few things to top up the cupboards at the cottage and also got myself a nice fresh white sourdough loaf.

As I packed the food in the boot of the car my stomach growled. Well, a Wetherspoons Pub was just over the road and they do a rather nice Ramen Noodles and well, it would be rude not too, so I locked the car and headed towards the pub. I stepped out on to the road.

DARK. BLACK.

I shook my head, I felt odd. My eyes didn't seem to be working properly everything was in black and white, there was no colour. I walked across the road and began stumbling, I couldn't feel my feet and so didn't know when my foot had settled on the road, there was no feedback, how very odd. I realised that I could not feel my handbag either. I prodded my face, nothing. I could not feel anything anywhere, my sense of touch appeared to have deserted me. My sense of sight was also awry, no colour, just shades of grey. The road seemed very quiet, hardly any noise, was it me I wondered. I said my name out loud, I could hear that, so my sense of hearing was working. I wandered towards the pub but the door was locked, how very odd, perhaps they were not opening today. People were walking around, not interacting at all, just walking.

This all required extra investigation I decided. It did occur to me that I may have had a small stroke, which is why some of my senses didn't seem to be functioning properly. I knew that there was a walk in medical centre in the precinct, so I headed there to see if they could help, I didn't know what else to do. As I entered the precinct I saw a man walking in strange clothes, almost as if he were wearing animal skins, very odd in this day and age, people had stopped wearing real skins decades ago. What was particularly strange though, was that he was in colour. Everyone else, everything else was in black and white, not him though, he was in full radiant colour. I headed to him.

As I approached him I realised that he was a good six foot tall and had a large frame. He had a beard and long hair some of which was braided.

"Excuse me sir," I said, I was keen to know why he was in colour whilst the rest of the world wasn't. He ignored me, so I tapped his arm, "Excuse me sir," I said again.

He stopped walking and turned to me.

"You can see me?" He said.

"Well of course I can," I said, "how silly, why shouldn't I see you?"

"Well, you're dead of course and the dead can't see the Gods."

Dead? Oh, well that was unexpected. I didn't want to be dead, I had a quiet few days at the cottage to look forward to.

"Gods, what Gods?"

"Oh there are a few of us, but mortals can't see us."

"Well I can, so obviously I am not a mortal or you are not a God. Which God are you anyway?"

"I am Byggvir, God of Happiness and Merriment."

"Bugger? Odd name for a God," I replied trying to keep the laugh out of my voice.

"No, not Bugger, Byggvir, it is different. And you are Mica, but you should not be able to see me."

"Well I can see you, and I don't want to be dead, you're a God, so you say, so as you're a God, you can make me undead. Thank you."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Of course it can, you're a God, it can be anyway you want it to be."

"Oh no, that would displease Woden, and that is not something anyone would want to do."

"Why, what would he do, you're a God, so what could he do to you?"

"Do? Anything he want's, he is the King of God's, his power is supreme. He could cast me away to here, the Underworld."

The Underworld, that is where we were, it kind of looked like Bingley in Yorkshire to me, although a bit greyer than usual.

"If this is the Underworld, and who am I to argue, then why are you here? And why would being cast here be such an awful thing?"

"Because if you were cast here, then you couldn't leave. I am not cast, so I can come and go."

"And why are you here?"

"Oh, I come looking for sport and beautiful people to entertain me."

"In what way entertain you dare I ask?" Knowing full well that I would not like the answer.

"Entertain in the ways of the bed of course. Live mortals are so fragile, the dead less so."

"And what do those that entertain you get out of it?"

"Well, er, pleasure I suppose, and they might even get a bit of their colour back."

"And, I really hesitate to ask this, what happens when they get their colour back?"

"Well, they are undead again and can return to their realm of course, you do ask such dumb questions."

"Well I am new to all this being dead malarky you see, hence the questions. And so, and again I hesitate, if I were to entertain you sufficiently, I would be alive again?"

"Well, in theory yes, but I am a God, and I have been entertained by Goddesses, I doubt that a mortal could sufficiently entertain me."

"Ha." He hadn't met me before.

"You said I should not be able to see you, but I can, so obviously I am no mere mortal."

"I have no idea what you are. You're not a Goddess."

"How do you know? I could be, in disguise."

He laughed, a loud rolling laugh that came from deep within him.

"Shall we see?" He asked pointing at the shop that we were standing outside of, Bingley Bed Boutique.

"After you, your Godship," I said. I wondered if the doors would open, the ones to the pub wouldn't for me, it was as if it were all a façade.

The door opened and I followed him in. He looked around at the beds on the ground floor and shook his head.

"Let's try the upper floor," he said taking the stairs two at a time. Crumbs, he was eager.

"Perfect," I heard him say from half a staircase behind him, well, when you're dead, stairs two at a time is a bit much.

He was stood in front of an imposing four poster, carved wood, possibly oak, painted white, it was impressive, and so was his naked body. I must have blinked but there he was all muscled and toned, even his muscles had muscles. His dick was just about perfectly sized, not too big and most certainly not too small, no cherub features remained in him then.

I removed my dress and placed it on the simpler bed next door, and then my bra and shoes, I too was naked and I reckoned I stood up well in the buff.

"Lay on the bed Byggvir and ready yourself," I said. I didn't try sultry tones of voice, there was little point, I doubted that they really worked. He jumped and landed fair square in the middle of the bed and turned to look at me. I held my breasts and then ran my hands down across my stomach to my groin, my fingers sliding down my crease. I climbed onto the bed and turned to face him sideways, bending forward I licked the end of his dick.

Interestingly there was no taste, no aroma, not even much of a sensation. I knew it was there, but the sensual feedback was minimal, this was going to be harder than I thought. His dick was, unsurprisingly intact, but then why should he mutilate himself, he was a God. I pulled his skin down his shaft and licked at the straining tissue attaching it to his dick. He mumbled something. Good, he felt that then. I rolled my tongue and pressed it at the hole in his glans and wiggled, he mumbled again. I licked around the rim of his glans, concentrating on the underneath and he squirmed and mumbled.

I straddled him, my fanny above his face but out of his reach, and sucked his dick into my mouth, sliding along his shaft until he was deep in my throat. I flexed my pelvic floor muscles, rotating them, hoping my fanny would appear to be moving, inviting him in. I moved up his dick and grabbed some breath and then back down, giving him a slow oral shag whilst flexing my fanny above his face.

As I moved along his dick I ran my tongue on his skin as softly as I could, leaving a wet gossamer trail to help ease him down my throat. I dipped down and brushed my fanny crease along his nose and then jerked back up again, I would touch him, but he could not touch me. My fingernails scratched outlines on his scrotum, running along his perineum and then along the veins that adorned his sac, lightly, scratchingly.

He was mobile beneath me, rolling from side to side, making humping movements with his hips, I wasn't ready yet, I had more minutes of this planned. A finger nail pressed and stabbed at his sphincter, but I pulled away before he could force entry, oh no, not there my friend, not today, lightly back along his perineum, and then scratched his balls before squeezing them, just a little too tightly, I heard him groan.

I released his dick, wet with my saliva it glistened beneath me, and I moved down, my head at his feet and my fanny above his dick. I reached back, held his dick and positioned it at my entrance and I lowered myself just enough to let his dick enter me.

"Look at your cock Byggvir, look how it is stretching apart my petals, see you are opening me." I lowered myself a little more, feeling him widen me.

"Can you see, look watch as I leave you."

I pulled up, feeling his cock begin to leave me, my petals relaxing, just the tip of his dick at my entrance.

"Can you see, I am back to normal, now watch," and I sank again, his dick widening me, my petals once again stretched around his girth as I took him within me. Down I went, down and he filled me and my fanny rested against him, he was inside me.

"Now watch Byggvir as I eject you, how my petals cling to your dick, wrapping around it. Can you feel them, can you?"

I pulled up and away, not so much, his tip was still inside me, but my fanny was stretched open, gripping the saft of this God's dick. I pushed down again, his dick filling me once more, taking my petals as my fanny engulfed his dick.

"Can you feel that Byggvir, can you feel yourself sliding within my chamber, preparing, ready to flood me, can you feel that?" I asked as I began a steady shag, reverse cowgirl they call it. I was reversing a God, and I was dead. These things don't happen every day.

"Are your pleasures building Byggvir? Are your balls tightening, can you feel that clenching deep inside, the precursor to the release of your pleasures? Can you?"

I was rocking back and forth, his dick sliding easily within me, and I began to clench my fanny muscles, adding a wank sensation to his shag. He was getting into it, I could hear his gasps and his breath was gulping as I worked every trick I knew, trying to kiss his dick with my fanny lips, flexing my inner muscles on his shaft and gliding his shaft within me. I could do no more.

I began to go harder, to move faster, pressing him as deep inside me as I could, clenching my muscles as tightly as they would go, and I felt his disturbance, his dick began to pulse and he was beyond the point of stopping himself, and I pushed down harder than before and held myself, my fanny squeezing him tight as he roared and his dick erupted inside me.

I held for a moment until I could no longer feel his dick pulse and I raised myself, his dick falling from me to lay on his thigh. I rolled to the side, and looked down at myself, I had colour, at last.

"You have done well," he said, but it is not enough, you will need to pleasure another before you can return."

Bugger. So near.

"Where will I find another?"

"I don't expect you will need to look far. He rolled of the bed and into clothes, I could not fathom the transition, once minute naked, the next all clothed. He bowed in my direction and was gone. These Gods can move quick if they want to, that is for sure.

I stood and moving at my mortal pace, I dressed and took stock. I was in a bedding store, apparently dead, and seemingly in the Underworld, an Underworld that had a strange similarity to Bingley, and somehow I had to find another God to pleasure in order to return to the Overworld, or whatever it was correctly known as. I wondered if my interaction with the faeries had somehow changed me. I was strangely calm about being dead, I suppose it was because I considered dead to be a temporary status.

I wandered out of the precinct and stood on the high street looking around at all the grey people shambling along, no one talking, just milling. Oh my God. As I looked along the street I saw my Dad, it just threw me.

"Dad," I shouted.

Dad was dead, of course, he had been for a while. In fact he had in fact died whilst shagging me some years ago, quite awkward at the time. I mean obviously I was devastated at losing a parent that I loved, in every sense of the word, but him having a heart attack whilst thrusting into me was a bit of a shock. I had to get him out and then off of me, and then get him dressed, and myself, and then call the ambulance. I had told them that he said he felt a little unwell and went up to my bed to lay down. I did wash his dick before I dressed him, didn't want any traces of me showing up in the autopsy, that would have been awkward.

I ran along the path to dad and tapped his shoulder. As soon as I touched him he came out of his trance like state, and responded.

"Mica," he said, "what on Earth are you doing here?"

"Well I was just about to ask you the same, as for me, well, this is just temporary, I am working my way back, I just need to find a God."

"Well good luck with that, no one really believes in God anymore."

"No, not God dad, a God, there are lots of them, honestly, I just have to find one and seduce him."

"That reminds me Mica, we have unfinished business you and I."

Well, I guess we did. I wondered if that is why he was wandering the underworld. I mean the river Aire river in Bingley was hardly the Styx, you didn't need Charon the ferryman to cross it, in places it is so shallow you could just wade across.

"What would that be dad? It took a deal of manipulating to ensure that no one knew what we were doing when you died."

"But that extreme pleasure daughter dear, was the reason I passed, it was too great for my silly heart to bear."

"Are you suggesting that I killed you dad? That's a bit much."

"Oh no, silly girl, no, simply the pure pleasure of our shagging was too much. I wonder if that level of pleasure once more would get me out of this place and on to where I should be?"

Oh. Well now. I had been a lot younger when I was shagging dad, and shag him I did, whenever mum went out, dad and I would hit his bed and rut like animals possessed, and then after I left home we carried on, he would come around and we would do the deed, and I loved it, but that was such a long time ago, I had moved on and so had dad. I hadn't thought about dad in that way for a very long time.

"Come on Meesh, let's go and find somewhere quiet."

To be honest, everyone was just wandering around like zombies, we could have shagged in the middle of the street and no one would notice, but yes, I supposed, somewhere quieter would make it easier to concentrate on matters in hand.

"There's a bed shop in the precinct dad," I said, "we could try there."

"Oh perfect baby, lead on." He took my hand, and I felt a small something, was I becoming more alive? I took us back up the high street and into the precinct. The Bingley Bed Boutique was just where I left it, things were so weird just now I had half expected it to have vanished and become camping shop with only camp beds, but no it was there, and we slipped inside.

"Come on dad, let's look at the back of the shop."

At the back of the shop were a number of king size beds with a varying range of mattresses, different tops, and even a water bed. I sat on the water bed, oh no, goodness that would never work, it moved and sloshed around underneath me. I tried to imagine having sex on a moving platform, okay for the girl I supposed, but must be awful to be on top. No, no, moving on.

Dad was standing by a 'premium, memory foam deluxe' and looking at me, a twinkle in his eye. I smiled and walked over, 'this looks nice dad,' I said and started to take my dress off.

"Slowly baby," dad said, "let's not have a repeat of last time."

I wondered if you could die if you were already dead and decided now was not the time to find out. I stood in front of dad, slowly peeling my dress off, slipping the straps off my shoulders and letting them fall, my boobs being exposed first and then finally my all.

"Baby you are such a beauty," dad said as he pulled down his trousers and underpants in one move. His dick looked as tasty as ever and certainly showed no signs of death. It was hard and pointy, just as it should be. Now then, if incest sends you to hell, as some religious types would have, what would undertaking incest in the underworld do? Interesting concept; I moved closer to dad and took his dick in my mouth. Dad groaned, he always loved me going down on him, and I always loved doing it. It took me back into my memories of old, dad laying on my bed and me eating his pork, as he used to call it.

Was there a hint of flavour, I wasn't sure. I rolled dad's foreskin and down and sucked greedily on his glans, sucking his pee hole as if it were a straw, trying to draw his taste from within. Dad was groaning as I savoured the end of his dick, and then he pulled away.

"Lay down baby," he said as he sat up, his dick wet and ready and I was sure he was going to simply shag me and finish what he started all those years ago. I was wrong. Dad bowed down between my thighs and ran his tongue along my cease, I shivered uncontrollably. His fingers played around my entrance, teasing my petals with his gossamer light touch, me wanting him to penetrate me and fingerfuck, but no, he was not going any faster than he wanted to. The prerogative of the dead I supposed.

My pressures were growing and my pleasures increasing, electrics were charging and my breath was gasping and catching in my throat. I knew I was close to boiling over, and my fingers started scrunching, tearing into the premium memory foam deluxe, would the mattress remember us I wondered as dad took me to the pleasure palace and I unleashed a piercing scream through the silent underworld as my orgasm exploded.

"Jesus," I gasped as I lay back getting my breath back. Dad moved up, covering me and he reached down and pressed his dick into my crease and then at my entrance, forcing my welcoming petals apart as he pressed inside me. "Oh dad," I gasped.

"Time now to finish what we started baby," dad said as he pressed in, filling me, pressing back my petals and consuming me. He started a steady shag, filling and voiding, his dick sliding along my love channel as if it belonged there. My pleasures were boiling and I knew I would cum soon, very soon.

"Oh baby," dad was saying, almost on repeat, with my gasping as he pressed in deep, cooing when he almost pulled out, faster he went, harder, it felt as deep inside me as anyone ever had, his dick bruising my inner self. Dad began going faster and pushing harder and then his dick erupted inside me, filling me, my body overflowing.

"Yes baby," dad said and then he simply was gone, I was empty, my fanny grasping at nothing. I could hear a song from somewhere, my mind trying to deal with the disappearance of dad and the surreal sounds of an old song, finally recognising it, I realised it was an old Edwyn Collins song, "A Girl Like You,' and then I also heard the sound of someone clapping.