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Message-ID: <42587asstr$1053688203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: shadowloup@hotmail.com (Shadowloup)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 23 May 2003 05:30:41 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Cammi Longclit Chapter 3 (Ff, spank, gods, humor)
Date: Fri, 23 May 2003 07:10:03 -0400
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Greetings.  You must be physically and metaphysically old enough to
read this.  I'm sure your children are fine, I just have no wish to
raise them.  Anyone other than ASSTR who wishes to use this story for
whatever purpose should contact me, since I can actually prove I wrote
it.  Everyone else, please enjoy.  Constructive feedback is always
welcome.  If you like it, please visit my website at
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shadowloup/www.

(Dr. Screw 2 - The Return of the Screw will be coming soon)



The Saga of Cammi Longclit 
by Shadowloup

Chapter Three
The Enmity of Vaal


The two women returned to Rumptiddyfadda, where all the men and the
priestess Kilcunny awaited them.  The villagers, upon hearing the
beast's terrible screams and fearing a sudden attack, had lit every
torch in their possession.  Now they peered nervously over the wall.

When she was within range of the firelight, Cammi, who still leaned
against Jestina, held the beast's severed genitalia aloft.

Only silence and the crackle of torches met Cammi's display.  None
knew how to interpret it.

"The beast has been vanquished!" Cammi shouted.  "We will be buggered
no more!"

"By the goddess, can it be true?" the priestess Kilcunny asked from
atop the gate.

The gates opened and the priestess and guards clustered around the two
women, staring in awe at the massive, flaccid mound of prick and balls
Cammi held.  Comprehension slowly dawned.

"Rejoice men!  The beast will trouble us no more!" Kilcunny cried.

Each man cheered, their joyous shouts making the firelight just a
little brighter.

"I personally shall nail it over the gate to our village.  Demons will
think twice before attacking us again," one man said.

It was decided that this was an excellent idea.  One guard was
dispatched to get mallet and nails while the others escorted Cammi,
Jestina and their prize into the village proper where a celebratory
feast was begun.

Alas, not everyone was delighted to be feasting.  As Jestina sat with
her friend amidst the eating, drinking, and merry men, she leaned over
to her equally imbibing companion.

"I fear that we merely wounded the beast," she confided.  "And a beast
half blind with pain could cause even greater harm.  Cammi, you and I
must track it to its lair and slay it."

Next morning Cammi and Jestina awoke early.  The mist-ridden twilight
had not broken, further convincing Jestina that she was correct.

She and Cammi ate a quiet breakfast, not wishing to awaken the still
slumbering villagers.  Afterwards they anointed each other so they
could peer into the spirit realm.  Jestina repainted the eyes which
graced the naked Cammi's rump and tits, while Cammi daubed sacred
herbs onto Jestina's forehead.  After this they set off before anyone
knew they had departed.

They traveled for half a day, uncertain of how much ground they
covered, for distances are strange and misleading when traveling in
the spirit realm.  It seemed as though they crossed a quarter of the
earth.

As they traveled through one valley, they happened upon a heard of
large, shaggy creatures.  These resembled cows, though they were
larger and covered with long, musky, straight white fur.  Nothing
could be seen of their faces, for their heads were nearly flat upon
the ground, despite their massive and mighty shoulders.  Two huge
spiraling horns further weighed down their heads.  Black hooves gouged
the rocky ground as they feasted upon the scant grasses of the valley.

"What is this heard?" Cammi asked.

"I do not know."

As they viewed the strange creatures, Cammi noticed an elderly bearded
man making his way over the crags of the mountains towards them.  He
was squat, yet possessed a large frame.   Long hair flowed over his
shoulders like snow capping a mountain.  His nose was small and
piggish, and his eyes were green, gentle and kindly.  His smile was
like sun glinting off a snowcap.  In his right hand he held a
shepherd's crook.

"Hullo!  Hullo!" he shouted as he drew closer.

"Why does that man shout?" Cammi asked.

"He wishes to attract our attention," Jestina said.

While they did not know it yet, the two women were about to meet the
god Zepharius, shepherd of the winds, who was on his own quest.  How
this came to be was due to Mother-goddess Lasciviosa taking a few
weeks absence of Father-god Vaal.  During this interval, the
gregarious Vaal had invited fellow  god Mithra for a visit.

When the middle eastern deity arrived, the two partook of copious
amounts of ambrosia while watching the gladiatorial combat in the far
away land of Emora.  Vaal stroked his long, wild beard while pondering
which mortal to bet upon.  His sedate, dark, and refined companion
studied the ripples upon his cup of ambrosia.  Both personalities were
effervescent, even when not lubricated with heavenly drink.

Boring of the combat, they had eventually started a friendly contest
which they called "Master of the Winds".  Each took a turn launch
breathtaking nether winds, the likes of which had never before blown
across the face of the Earth.  The other rated it for feculence,
pestilence, and longevity.

After one particularly hearty bout of flatulence, Vaal laughed and
leaned over to Mithra.

"My word, that should make those crossing the Aegean take notice
tonight," the Father-god roared.

"Serves the infidels right," Mithra replied.

Just then one of Vaal's porters entered, and bent close to his
master's ear.

"Sire, there is a god without the castle who demands an audience."

Laughing, Vaal used his hand to wipe some errant ambrosia from his
great brown beard, and asked "What manner of fool demands this?"

"It is Zepharius, sire, the lord over the winds of the Earth."

With that both gods burst forth in new gales of laughter which nearly
equaled their earlier gusts of wretched winds.  Vaal's beard shook
with the fury of his merriment.  Mithra's dusky countenance nearly
turned red from his own jollity.

Once again the room filled with the loud sound of thunder tearing
apart the sky.

"There.  Let him lord over that," Mithra proclaimed.

Vaal roared anew.

Finally, Vaal gained enough control over his mirth to tell the porter
to bring the lesser god inside.

It did not take long for the ancient, portly, white-haired god of the
winds to be ushered into Vaal's presence.

"Greetings fellow gods.  'Tis an ill wind that blows tonight,"
Zepharius began, only to be interrupted by an eruption of laughter
from the two gods.

Zepharius began to stammer.

Vaal managed to gasp out between chuckles, "Please excuse us..." 

Mithra seemed to laugh anew at that.

Vaal continued, almost out of breath, "But we are in the midst of a
merry jape."

"Oh," the mystified wind god said.

"But it is no matter," Vaal continued, regaining his normal composure
as he spoke.  "And we are rude.  What reason brings you to our abode?"

"Well, Sire.  I was out attending my twilight breezes, the ones which
come from just off shore, over the water.  Perhaps you have felt them?
 They are quite delightful.  So mild and gentle and playful. They love
to sneak quietly about, lightly stirring the leaves on trees, cooling
off lovers as they pant beneath the gloaming.  They really are gentle
creatures.  And they love to carry soft fragrances about..."

"To be sure," Vaal interrupted.  "But surely such gentle beings did
not cause you to make such a long journey?"

"No sir,' Zepharius said, finding again his narrative line.  "I was
tending these magnificent beings, when suddenly a foul and rancorous
wind, the likes of which I have never had the misfortune of blowing
cross my face before, arose.  It blew all my delicate little breezes
far out into the oceans.  Even now I fear that the vicious winds which
move the clouds about the sky will rip these poor, defenseless ..."

"Yes, yes.  But what has this to do with us?" Vaal asked.

"Well, sir.  As I was watching helplessly, what should arise but yet
another wind, twice as foul as that which came before.  And then
another.  And yet another!  Finally I realized those winds blew from
the cold wastes of the North.  So I journeyed here to seek the cause
of these veritable cyclones of stench."

As he spoke, the old god noticed that both Vaal and Mithra were
silently shaking, as if they were holding something inside.  Like a
sneeze.

"I followed the odors and have arrived here to apprehend the scamps,"
Zepharius said.  "Have you any idea who the culprit is?"

"I don't know if we can help you," Vaal gasped.

"However could such a stench be created?" Mithra asked with mock
concern.

"I do not know what evil intent or method was used to create these
vile winds," Zepharius said.  "But they must require a monumental
effort!"

Both Vaal and Mithra shuddered silently and violently.

Vaal cleared his throat loudly.

"Have either of you any idea as to how these awful atmospheres come
into being?" Zepharius implored.

Neither did.  The eyes of both were as innocent as new born babes. 
Albeit babes with frightful shudders wracking their bodies.

"Who is attempting to usurp my domain?" Zepharius asked.

"Perhaps it was Moab?" Mithra suggested, in a strained tone of
helpfulness.

"Moab?"  Both Vaal and Zepharius looked towards the middle eastern
god.

Mithra's face grew very sly as he spoke.

"They say he's an evil one, always searching for new realms to
conquer, no matter how small."

Zepharius' eyes grew wide in alarm at the thought of losing his abode.
 Vaal's eyes also grew wide, as yet another bout of mirth tickled him
from the inside.  He gently laid a fatherly hand across Zepharius'
shoulders.

"There, there," he consoled the wind god.  "We will not allow this
beast Moab, or any other god to usurp your position."

With that, Vaal gently guided the elder god towards the door.

"But if I hear one word of another god's plans to rule in your stead,
I will not hesitate to inform you.  Yes, I will even fight by your
side.  Now, good night, good luck with your quest, and a pleasant
journey."

"And good luck to your little winds," Mithra called out.  "Remember,
with a little practice they can grow to become big winds."

After the old man had left, Mithra let loose with another feculent
volley.

"Let us see if Buddhastratta still smiles when that one parts his
hair," Mithra said.

Vaal roared with laughter, but stopped when he discovered all of the
gladiators he had bet upon were losing heavily.

Meanwhile, outside the heavenly castle, Zepharius was walking slowly
and dejectedly away when yet another foul and terrible miasma swept
past him.  Reasoning that where one wind went, it might follow the
path of another, the god took off in pursuit in hopes of finding his
lost little winds.

And that was how he happened to be on the mount when Jestina and Cammi
came across him.  As he neared the breezes pick up, playfully nipping
the ears and ankles and necks of the feminine duo with a cool,
comfortable embrace.

Jestina detected a faint aura of blue otherworldliness about the man. 
 From this she knew she was dealing with some sort of god, though his
appearance seemed gentle enough.

He walked to them, his eyes looking up and down Cammi's nude body,
particularly on the eyes painted on her rump.  His manner was not
lascivious, but more like a curious child.

"Goodness," he said.  "I did not know whether you were going or
coming."

"Sometimes neither do I," Cammi responded.  "But I have noticed that I
tend to groan more when I'm comm..."

"Greetings, ancient one," Jestina interrupted quickly.  She used the
older form of address, not sure if this god would be angered at their
presence in the spirit realm, or whether he wanted to be recognized as
a god.

"Salutations back, mortal child," the congenial god replied.  "We do
not often see humans here.  I have often thought this sad, but perhaps
it is for the best, since there are many dangers here which could
cause you grievous harm.  But I do so like mortals.  My charges often
like to tickle them, and I do try to keep my more vigorous charges in
check.  Alas, I cannot do this all the time, and they can cause such
havoc.  Why, once, when I turned my back, my northeasterly wind worked
itself up into a gale, blowing ships hither and yon..."

"Your charges?" Jestina said.  She looked towards the milling goatish
creatures.  "Are they not frightfully large to be tickling mortals?"

The god looked at her, then the beasts.  He laughed a merry little
laugh.

"Oh goodness me.  This is Father-god Vaal's personal heard of
catoblepas, which he keeps for special apocalyptic occasions.  Their
poor heads are so heavy, it's a wonder they can eat.  But I suppose
that is for the best, for their faces are very, very homely.  To gaze
upon one of their faces is to risk death."

"Then what do you shepherd?" Cammi asked.

"Why, the winds and breezes, child.  Though I currently seem to have
lost some of my precious charges.  Oh, where could they have gotten
to?"

With that his smile faltered and he looked about this way and that,
searching for what he had lost.

"So you are the god of the wind?" Jestina asked quickly.  His thoughts
were as airy as his flock, she suspected.

"Why, yes I am.  Oh goodness me, where are my manners.  My name is
Zepharius.  Whatever are your names?"

"I am the priestess Jestina, and this champion is Cammi Longclit.  We
are hunting a rebbats-tub, which we wounded but were unable to kill,
before it gets up to more mischief," Jestina said.

Zepharius smiled.  "Yes, I too am searching.  A large and noxious wind
has carried off some of my charges."

"Till the gentle breezes which accompanied you blew up our skirts,
there were no winds from the direction we came from," Cammi said
quickly, seeking to avoid another meandering speech.

"Oh dear, Oh dear.  Where could they have gotten to?" 

"Perhaps we could assist each other on our individual quests?" Jestina
ventured.  A god, even one as airy as this would still be an excellent
ally, she reasoned.

Zepharius scratched his chin.  A smile like the sun breaking through
wind-torn storm clouds filled his countenance.

"There is some sense in your proposal.  What did you seek again?"

"A rebbats-tub," Jestina repeated.  

Zepharius wrinkled his face in disgust.  "Why would two lovely ladies
seek such a heinous creature?"

"It was terrorizing a village, and Cammi was able to grievously wound
it.  Now we hunt it to put an end to its terror.  We have been trying
to follow it, but keep losing it in this mist.  Do you think a
rebbats-tub could hide among them?" Jestina asked, pointing to the
woolly heard.

"I doubt that very much, for the catoblepas are creatures who live in
tight crevices in the mountain, while the rebbats-tub prefer tight
bodily crevices in general.  In fact, there are rumors that they can
control mist, or some such.  I would gladly clear this mist if I could
find my little breezes."

"Winds would help," Cammi said.  "It has been a while since we've been
blown."

So the two women decided to help the airy shepherd before proceeding
on their own quest.

The three traveled eastwards, leaving the mountains for lower planes,
eventually reaching a large lake bounded by a sandy white beach where
small waves lapped against the shore.  A scant spear-throw away from
them sat a small town.  A weather-stained wooden jetty ran from this
town into the lake, pointing towards a small island several bowshots
from the shore.  Upon this island was a small temple, barely
discernible in the misty distance, its own jetty pointing back towards
the town.

As Zepharius walked upon the sand he heard familiar muffled sighs. 
Like all good shepherds, he recognized his charges from their bleats. 
He peered towards the island.  From somewhere on that rocky,
tree-laden isle arose the muffled moans of trapped breezes.

He pointed out the isle to the two women.

"My little breezes call out for help from there.  The are confined in
a  building towards the side of the temple."

"How did they become trapped within a structure?" Cammi asked.

"The Gorgon Celine must have had a hand with it, for that is her
island.  Mortals here about call it Dworkin's Isle.  Upon it lives a
Gorgon sorceress with mighty powers.  She can turn beings to stone. 
Or is that men's pricks to stone, pardon my language.  I fear I
forget."

"Perhaps someone at the town knows something," Jestina said.

"If they did, they would not tell me," Zepharius said forlornly. 
"Males are looked down upon in this area."

"Then Cammi and I shall go inquire."

Jestina and Cammi quickly covered the ground to the town, which only
had four buildings, all neatly kept.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed.  A young woman wearing the robes
of a priestess of the Mother-goddess approached them, spreading her
arms in greeting.

"Welcome to the land of Celine, fair Gorgon of the Isle of Dworkin. 
All that is fair and just and feminine is welcome."

"We seek winds," Cammi said, impatient as ever.  The shortest distance
between two points was that through which Cammi could force her way.

"Winds?"  The priestess blinked.  "Surely you do not look for those
foul and noxious, man-like emissions which plagued our fair land a few
days back?"

"From what we were given to understand, the ones we seek are gentle. 
The foul and noxious winds were what sent them astray," Jestina said.

The priestess paused in reflection.

"If anyone could catch winds, it would be Celine of the Isle.  Her
powers are indescribably effectual and very potent.  But to visit her
you must put aside all things male."

The priestess uneasily eyed Cammi's great oaken spear and long, pink
dangling clit.  Cammi noticed the glance.

"I am a woman," Cammi protested.  

"It does not matter.  All things male are forbidden from entering
august Celine's presence."

It was with great reluctance that Jestina persuaded Cammi to stay
behind, and then only after ten minutes of debate.

The priestess walked to the jetty where a small boat was moored.  Next
to it stood a thickly-muscled ferrywoman wearing a bright pink skirt
and lacy blouse.  Her suspiciously deep voice gave a hearty welcome. 
Her face was rather hirsute, and her adams apple bobbed.  She
resembled an iron monger more than a woman, and Cammi could not stop
staring.

"She is very strange," the warrioress said.  "Why, her bubs are even
smaller than yours."

Jestina ignored Cammi and walked alone towards the boat.

After learning Jestina sought transport to the distant island, and
haggling over an appropriate price, the ferry-woman ushered Jestina
upon the boat.  One deft thrust from her pole pushed the boat out into
the river.

The ride over the waves was swift and smooth, with the ferry-woman
giving a masculine grunt with each flick of the pole.  The sandy beach
receded.

Soon they approached the island.  As they did, the ferry-woman
fidgeted with increasing agitation, and scanned the nearby land with
intense eyes.

At last the isle's jetty touched the boat, and Jestina jumped out. 
Even as she looked about to survey the surrounding dock leading to a
dusty courtyard, she heard the sound of splashing.  Jestina turned to
find the boatwoman leaving the island as quickly as possible.

Jestina turned back to the small cluster of buildings.  From out of a
small marble temple came a woman in a long, flowing white robe. 
Jestina walked forward to meet her.

The two women faced each other.  Jestina was a half a foot smaller
than the square-shouldered lady who faced her wearing a hostile scowl
upon her face.

This was none other than Celine the Gorgon, who was of a suspicious
nature.  Born to the god of Fire, she had suffered a harsh childhood
because her father would have preferred a male child, and had been
unable to contain his disappointment.  While he never treated her
viciously, he was very brusque.

Over the eons the memory of her father had twisted within her mind so
that now she showed animosity towards anything masculine.  Men
unfortunate enough to be caught on her land were killed.  The act of
coitus was viewed as rape, and therefore forbidden within her domain. 
Even spears and swords were banned as they resembled hostile erect
male organs.

She finally found her calling by gaining the position of high
priestess to the Mother-goddess.

She had grown more and more paranoid about men over the last few
years, always expecting an attack or seeing a slight in the least
little thing,  personalizing the impersonal indignities of life which
afflict all living beings.

But these things Jestina did not know as she gave her simple
salutation.

"Greetings, sister-slut."

"Greetings back," Celine replied.  Her greenish hair hung in long limp
strands down her cheeks.  Which was good.  Had it undulated in the
manner of serpents, Jestina could have been turned to stone.

"I am sorry to trouble you," Jestina continued.  "I seek some errant
breezes which may have meandered this way."

Celine's scowl deepened. Dark, brooding suspicions further knotted her
brow.

"These 'breezes'," Celine pronounced that word with distaste, "which
you speak of were very large to have meandered."

"I am unaware of that which you refer to.  The breezes I refer to are
light, airy and pleasant."

"Light, airy and pleasant!"  Celine's roar echoed off the far shore. 
Her hair grew greener and scaly, uncoiling and undulating slowly yet
dangerously.  "Bitch!  Do you think me so stupid as to not recognize
the very stench of Father-god Vaal!"

Jestina looked behind her to see the boatwoman even further away, now
paddling with mad, unrhythmic strokes.  The air grew icy cold, as
though a terrible lightning storm would strike at any moment.

Possessing no weapon other than her warm smile, Jestina attempted to
overcome the demigoddess' cold anger with the power of warm
friendship.

Celine grabbed Jestina by the lobe of her ear.  The priestess was
painfully wrenched forward, nearly loosing her footing.  She had to
scramble to keep from falling, and was forced to move with the Gorgon
to alleviate the pain.

"I shall teach you a lesson you shall not soon forget!"

Celine tied Jestina to the branch of a tree using the sash from her
own robe.  As Jestina hung by her arms, her toes just touching the
sand, Celine laid into her pert rump with the flat of the hand.  The
sounds of slaps rolled off the island and echoed off the cliffs, where
Zepharius heard them.

"That does not sound good," he said as he peered through the distance.

"Can you see to the island?" Cammi asked.

"Yes, and it does not go well for your friend.  It would seem Celine
the Gorgon did not take kindly to her request, and has tied your
friend so that she dangles in the courtyard, ass thrust out, while
Celine beats upon her buttocks."

"Damn!  We must rescue her!"  Cammi started to stride towards the
dock, but was stopped when Zepharius grasped her wrist.  Despite his
elderly look, he was of equal strength to the warrioress, and she
could not shake his grip.

"Eager as I am to rescue your friend, since I myself have put her in
danger, we must make some sort of plan.  Neither of us is strong
enough, or swift enough to subdue Celine alone.  But as several winds
may join forces to fall a mighty oak, so shall we join forces to gain
victory over the Gorgon."

"Planning is not my strong point."

"Nor is it mine.  But it occurs to me that while the sight of a Gorgon
might give a human pause, so might the sight of a catoblepas give a
demigod pause as well."

"Those horned fluffy things?  An excellent plan, gray hair.  I shall
grab one, carry it to the island, and use it to subdue Celine."

"I was thinking we would use a boat, it being easier to convey a small
flock that way rather than swimming with one under your arm."

"Very well, I shall get the heard, subdue the boatwoman, and I use
that particular term loosely, convey the flock over and rescue my
friend."

"An interesting variation upon the original plan, but perhaps I can be
of more assistance.  My brother-god Feciomaga, has a magic boat.  I
forget the details, but it should allow us to carry a large number of
catoblepas.  It is far larger than the small earthly barge used to
carry your friend to the island, and it moves of its own volition."

A few more minutes were necessary to reacquaint Cammi with the plan,
as words like volition and variation had the unfortunate effect of
confusing her.  But when understanding dawned, she went to find the
horned herd while Zepharius went to obtain the boat.

When Cammi arrived at the herd, she found she did not know how to get
the heavy headed creatures to move.  Other than food, nothing seemed
to motivate them.  They were contented to stay in place and graze till
the grasses were eaten and they were forced to move on.

By using her spear upon their flanks, Cammi was able to propel ten of
the woolly creatures forward.  Their accusatory "baas" floated back to
Cammi, but none lifted their heads.

It took the better part of an afternoon to usher these creatures to
the lake side, where Zepharius stood protecting the raft of the gods. 
It took more spear point urging to get the beasts to tread  upon the
boards.  But at last they were loaded.  Cammi hoped she had not wasted
too much time, and that Jestina's buttocks were holding up against the
gorgon's onslaught.

She looked to the shepherd of the wind for final guidance.

"This raft is magic," Zepharius explained.  "Merely look to where you
wish to go upon the water, and it will take you there.  And remember,
do not meet the gaze of the Gorgon, or she will turn you to stone, I
think.  Or does she turn men's bones to stone?  I wish I could
remember."

Cammi looked towards the isle of Celine.  The raft scraped the sand as
it moved from the shore as though guided by a powerful underwater
current.

****

On the island, Celine studied her handiwork.  Jestina's dusky buttocks
now possessed blotches of red, thanks to the liberal use of both whip
and hand.

Celine stepped in front of Jestina's downcast head, firmly gripping
the dark hair and yanking the poor priestess' tear-stained face
upwards.

"Did those light slaps loosen your tongue?  Or would you like more?"

A soft, far off baaing noise was Celine's answer.  Puzzled, she let
Jestina's head drop and looked towards the shore.

What she saw puzzled her exceedingly.  For out in the middle of the
lake, but approaching rapidly, was a fair-sized raft with several
white and woolly creatures sailing upon it.  Behind them stood a tall
blond naked woman hefting a very long spear.

Celine's lips curled with anger.  Her hair again undulated and
slithered.  The air grew very cold as the gorgon called on all the
surrounding power.

As the raft neared the shore of the isle, Celine settled her steely
gaze upon the hapless catoblepas.  Three nearest the edge hardened
into stone.

Sensing disaster, Cammi tried to find her balance and hurl her spear
while not meeting the gorgon's gaze.  She failed.  Her spear went very
wide of its mark, sailing far over Celine's snakey-haired head.  It
embedded itself in the wooden door of the storehouse where Celine kept
the winds captive.  The door cracked, then split. The lesser breezes
slipped out the narrow fissure, whistling at their new found freedom.

On the raft, the extra weight of the stony catoblepas at its front
caused it to tip dangerously.  Other catoblepas slid into the water,
baaing their displeasure.  Cammi hung onto the further edge with both
hands until the stony former creatures spilled off the shoreward edge.
 The raft slapped down into the water, knocking the breath out of
warrioress.

Meanwhile, the powerful foul winds noticed the escape of the gentle
breezes.  They too pressed against the door, longing for escape. 
Large gashes appeared.  Shrapnel blew out as the door gave, allowing
the winds to blow freely upon the planet again.

As they howled out in their newfound freedom, they passed Celine,
pushing her upon her back and roughly knocking her to the ground.  She
scrambled to arise, only to be inundated by the faces of catoblepas
which fled the water.  Their horrid, piercing eyes beneath their wet
bedraggled coats stared straight into the gorgon's.

Celine was overcome by the horror, and ran screaming for her temple as
the foulest winds swept past her.  These were so powerful they even
caught up some of the catoblepas as they stormed the shore.

It took Cammi a few seconds to regain her breath.  When she did, she
found she was alone on the island's beach.  Further up on the slope, a
heard of catoblepas milled about, lowing in displeasure at their
dripping coats.  Jestina was still bound to the tree.  Of the gorgon,
there was no sign.

Cammi grimaced as she viewed her friend's swollen hindquarters.

"Are you all right?" the warrioress asked as she untied her friend.

Jestina fell to her knees and rubbed her writs, then her buttocks.

"I am not ruined, though I wish my buttocks were a little smaller for
the nonce," she said.  "I feel as though I could light a fire from
their heat."

Cammi nodded in agreement.

Thanks to the raft and Cammi's spear, which she retrieved from the
storage building, the two women made their way back to the mainland
shore.

Zepharius awaited them on the beach.  His smile was broad and friendly
as his once lost breezes now tousled his hair playfully.

Sensing pain in Jestina's buttocks, the breezes also caressed her
naked cheeks.

Zepharius excused himself to return the magic raft, leaving the two
women alone on the quiet beach, with only the lowing of stranded
catoblepas sounding softly from the gorgon's isle.

"However did you stave off Celine's attack?" Jestina asked, through
her pain.

"I did not look at her, though I must have somehow caught sight of her
horrific gaze for a second," Cammi mused.  "I guess Zepharius was
right.  She frightens people stiff."

Cammi pointed down to her large, pink pearl, which glistened as it sat
uncomfortably stiff and jutting out from her pubic mound.

"Oil," Jestina gasped.  "It will soothe both my ass and your clit."

And so Cammi withdrew a medicated ointment from Jestina's wallet. 
Using one hand she spread it upon her friend's bruised bottom, and
with the other upon her womanly pearl.

Both ladies achieved two very satisfying climaxes long before
Zepharius returned from his errand, and stood in front of the panting
pair.

"I thank you for your troubles, dear ladies.  To exercise the breezes
which were imprisoned, I am allowing them to blow the mist from your
land.  The rebbats-tub you seek should soon be visible.  And, as
further thanks for your sacrifices, I have a gift."

The god presented them with a bulging wine skein.

"These are some of those ferocious winds which caused my difficulties.
 I have confined them within this skein.  Should you ever need them,
just let them loose in whatever direction you would like them to go. 
Beware, they are very powerful."

"You wouldn't happen to have anything more useful?" Cammi asked. 
"Perhaps one of your little breezes blew the rebbats-tub?  Though it
might be hard to blow him now since..."

"We thank you once again, oh shepherd of the winds," Jestina said
quickly.

"I am very glad to have had your assistance," the god said.  "I and my
little breezes shall do our best to lift this wretched gloom from the
land to allow the sun to accompany your hunting."

"That would be most appreciated," Jestina replied.

****

At the abode of the Father-god, Vaal and Mithra had  now regaled each
other with tales of drunken debauchery for two weeks.  During that
time they had engaged in yet more drunken debauchery, and Vaal had
insisted that Mithra stay for a while longer, despite the imminent
arrival of the Mother-goddess.

The detritus of their long debauch now towered several arms lengths
from the floor, accompanied by the odors of stale ambrosia and the
reeking remnants of their "winds".  Servants, banned from the room,
skulked in the hall and mumbled quietly yet uncomfortably about the
"reckoning" which was coming.

Mithra and Vaal were in the midst of their seventh, or possibly ninth,
discussion on philosophical matters, which might have been about
whether middle-eastern girls were easier upon the eye than northern
women, or possibly which race possessed the perkiest rumps and
jounciest teats, when Mithra looked up from his ambrosial brew.

"Brother Vaal, do you hear a faint 'baaing' sound?"

Vaal cocked his great head, listening intently over the alcoholic roar
in his ears.

"Now that you mention it..."

The sheepish mewing grew to a crescendo as a blob of fuzzy flesh
smacked into the window directly in front of Mithra.  That god stared
straight into the face of a frightened catoblepas.

"Holy mother of fuck!" Mithra screeched, jumping up from the couch,
knocking aside the remains of foodstuffs and spilling copious amounts
of ambrosia upon the rugs.  Mithra's look of horror froze his face
into a grotesque parody of itself.  He scampered towards the door,
only to be confronted with an even greater horror.  Mother-goddess
Lasciviosa stood upon the threshold, hands upon hips, mouth working
itself into a harangue towards the two for the mess they had created.

Lasciviosa's face in turn became a mask of horror.  In his terror,
Mithra had somehow managed to vomit right between the twin towers
peeking up from her bodice.

Mithra mumbled his apologies, mumbled something about pressing
business, and scampered out the hall as fast as his unsteady legs
could carry him.

In the half second of shocked silence which followed, Vaal looked
forlornly at the catoblepas stuck in the window frame and realized
that someone, somewhere, had earned his enmity.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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