We were not pursued. I hadn’t thought we would be, but it had been a fear. What if the cuckolded Archfiend decided that he wasn’t so happy with the arrangement after all, or more likely, if his advisors decided the whole thing was not only a little sexual humiliation for their ruler but reflected badly on Tartarus as a whole? If so, they’d send people after us, Uber Archfiend or no. But since they didn’t, I assumed all was well, and that Tartarus was in fact enveloped in a series of orgiastic rituals, where demon Princes slept with demon Ladies, and demon Lords then slept with demon Dames… if that was what they were even called.
The whole thing was rather gender essentialist, the more I thought about it. I had no problems with people getting their kicks however, and if humiliation was what got people going, as long as they consented to it that was fine with me. But I wondered how much agency the demon women had, and the next morning I voiced that over the campfire.
Lesseth nodded. “They can say no. But if they do, it reflects on their husband, and also, their husband can’t then participate in the next round.”
“It happens. It’s considered legal grounds for divorce, though.”
I blinked. “Wait, in Tartarus one can divorce one’s spouse for not fucking other people?”
“Yes. What’s amusing?”
“On Earth, in most places, you can divorce your spouse if they do.”
Lesseth shook her head. “Earth is weird.”
I didn’t dispute that. I’d known a few polyamorous couples who verbally agreed to open up the relationship, and then one filed for divorce when the other actually did what they’d agreed to. In one case, I think they had been surprised when the woman found it much easier to find partners than the man, so the man wanted out and figured claiming adultery was a good way to get an edge in the settlement. In the other, I think it was a deliberate trap. So yeah, Earth was weird, not to mention that it wasn’t a monolith, and there were places on Earth where women were chattel.
Tartarus, though, was weirder, at least than Rockville or Boston.
The others got up at that point, and I watched them get dressed. Only Valeria went through the contortions necessary to put her clothes on in the sleeping bag, so I enjoyed watching the contrast between curvy, muscular Gren and slender, delicate Lysandra.
We continued on. Lysandra rode on my bike, as it was the only one with a banana seat, and held on by groping me the entire way. In two more days’ travel we were at the outskirts of the orcish farms.
“Welcome to amorous Abbyland,” Gren said.
“It needs a name,” Gren said.
They could name it after me. Evil Enashland!
“I don’t lay claim to anything but the crypt,” I protested. “This is Zargaza’s land. You just couldn’t come up with a good z word.”
“Anything she has is yours by right of conquest,” Lesseth said. “Including her body. As I’m sure she’d agree.”
“Let’s just see if we can move on through quietly,” I said, not wanting to deal with that issue quite then. Zargaza was hot. I had no moral compunctions about sleeping with Zargaza, either. I just didn’t love her approach. Which, after the discussion I’d had about Tartarus with Lesseth, I realized was probably all cultural context. Zargaza was probably taking a perfectly ordinary orcish attitude toward wooing a mate. In most communities that was somewhat gender based, but Zargaza was both trying to get a woman in bed with her, and trying to get someone who might be a father for her children, all in the same person. It couldn’t be easy to figure out how to make all the right moves, even if she’d understood where I was coming from.
I wasn’t willing to shrug off everything simply because other cultures did things other ways. Treating women as chattel was wrong. Treating same-sex relationships as less than was wrong, and “it’s my culture” was and is no excuse. At the same time, Zargaza’s aggressiveness wasn’t wrong. It just wasn’t my thing.
Paths had been cleared to ease the transportation of farm goods, and that made it a lot easier to bike right through the middle of Zargaza’s territory than skirt around the edge. Still, our bikes made little noise, and we glided through as quietly as I’d suggested. We went right past the trading post Inka managed, not stopping in to check on things.
“Darling!” said a familiar voice.
I braked, not because I wanted to, but because anything else would be rude. And maybe my feelings were more mixed than I admitted to myself. “Zargaza!”
“If I knew you were coming, I would have worn my sexiest leathers!” she said to me, walking rapidly over and managing to swing her hips at the same time. What she had on, a leather bandeau top that stretched to contain her breasts, short leather shorts that covered less than an inch of thigh, and knee-high leather boots, was plenty sexy, as was her walk.
“You’re fine,” I told her.
“Should I let go now?” Lysandra asked.
She gave my boobs one more squeeze, and took her hands off.
Zargaza shot her a look. “You have an elf, now?”
“But you won’t even bed the orcs you own, or their chief?”
“Not won’t. Haven’t yet. Lysandra was something of an emergency.”
She raised her eyebrows, her hands on her hips, and waited for an explanation. By this time a number of her people had gathered around.
Lesseth had popped out of the bag, as she usually did whenever we stopped. “So now she’s the Uber Archfiend.”
“Uberabberubeyabby,” Gren said, in a tone of agreement.
“That’s astounding,” Zargaza said. “And only inflames my loins with desire more fiercely. Abby, do you have an hour?”
“I have five minutes,” I said, dismounting.
“That’s not enough time. Not for our first time.”
“I agree. But it’s enough time for this.”
I kissed her fiercely. Not because I owed her a kiss, or because I felt sorry for her, but because I wanted to. I held her tight, pressing her breasts against mine as I deepened the kiss.
She, not to be outdone, grabbed me more fiercely, but with one hand. The other slipped up the very pink tank top I was wearing, and the kiss turned into some kind of tongue wrestling.
She should have asked first, but it was the sort of cultural difference I was willing to let slide, mostly because it felt good. Both of my nipples tightened under her touch.
I groped back, sliding under the leather strap.
She felt good. Muscular and curvy, like Gren, but Gren tended to hold back her strength, preferring me to take the upper hand. With Zargaza it was more like a sexy struggle.
“Boobalicious battle for damsel dominance,” Gren said.
Or that. I decided to just enjoy it.
Eventually, I ran out of breath. And maybe she did, too, but I didn’t think she’d admit it. I pulled away. I realized that the orcs who’d gathered around were cheering. Most of them. A couple of males had scowls on their faces.
“More?” she asked. “Surely we have time left.”
“Six minutes, thirty-three seconds and counting,” Gren said. She had her phone up near her face, in the attitude of one who was videoing the whole thing.
“Uh, private moment, Gren?” I said.
Gren shook her head. “Public performance,” she replied. “Three wives, one concubine, and a whole crowd of Zargaza’s people. I just hope neither of you sprained your tongue.”
“Do tongues get sprained?” Lysandra asked.
“Slime demons don’t get sprains,” Lesseth said.
“All sorts of body parts get a workout with Abby,” Gren said.
“Yes,” Zargaza said. “That’s part of what I love about her.” She smiled at me. “Darling, I want you to make passionate love to me, the kind that makes me not know whether I’m just getting laid or going to be laid up.”
I smiled back. “You’re an amazing kisser,” I told her, honestly. I looked down and realized my shorts had a prominent bulge in them. I’d been aware I was turned on, of course, I just hadn’t thought about the fact that it was, as Gren had put it, a public performance.
“Stretching first helps,” Valeria told Lysandra.
“Oh, she stretches me every time,” Lysandra replied. “I didn’t think it would fit!”
“Yum,” Zargaza said. “The first time, Abby, just take me. No foreplay. I want to feel it for days!”
“Well,” I said. “I guess we’d better be going.”
Zargaza pouted for only a second and then nodded. “Safe travels, darling.”
“I’ll be back soon,” I said.
“Should I wait for you on my furs, legs spread? Or would you prefer on my hands and knees, so you can take me from behind?”
“Not quite that soon,” I told her.
I got on the bike, and that was when I realized I wasn’t only hard, my panties were soaked.
Lesseth oozed back into the bag. Lysandra wrapped her arms around me, and this time put her hands much lower, so that they were rubbing my erection through the shorts.
“Hands higher,” I said. It wasn’t that I minded, so much as that I didn’t want to crash the bike.
She slid them up to exactly where I thought she would, as I started pedaling. Valeria pedaled behind me, but it took me a while to realize that Gren wasn’t with us.
“Wait,” I said, slowing. “We lost Gren.”
“Oh, she’s talking to Zargaza. She’s fine. She can handle herself,” Valeria said.
“Nice image,” I said.
“I mean, yes, she can, but she can also take care of herself. I mean, she will be fine.”
I wasn’t concerned about Gren’s health, exactly. Just because she was fine didn’t mean she wasn’t causing trouble. But whatever she was doing, I knew that Gren loved me, and was loyal. She’d proved that.
As soon as we entered the forest, a squirrel perked up and ran over to me.
He chittered and bobbed. Maybe that was meant to be a nod.
I reached into my bag and he ate some nuts from my hand.
“Who’s a good squirrel?” I asked.
He chittered, and cocked his head.
I realized how stupid that sounded. “You are,” I explained.
He bobbed again, and then scampered off.
A half-hour into the forest, we encountered a block in the path. Vines had made a fence of sorts across it, and I had to hit the brakes hard, jostling poor Lysandra. Valeria pulled up beside me, and of course Lesseth popped out.
“What’s she up to?” she asked.
“She?” Lysandra asked.
The vines parted, and sure enough, Xyla walked through the gap, with a big smile on her face and pink and yellow flowers in her dark green hair. As usual, leaves covered only the essentials, but she had a lei-like belt of pink and yellow flowers around her hips. “Tada! It’s me!” she said.
I dismounted, and kissed her.
“You taste like orc,” she said. “I expected you to taste like elf.”
“Zargaza and Abby kissed,” Valeria said. “It was epic.”
“She wasn’t in my forest,” Xyla said. “That must have been some time ago, even with these machines.”
Xyla turned on Lysandra. “What are you doing, riding right behind her and leaving her unkissed for hours? If you think you’re too good for her –”
I interrupted. “That’s just it, she was riding behind me. Hard to get an angle, and if she did, I’d probably wreck the bike.”
“I’ve been playing with her tits the whole way,” Lysandra said. “I’ve done what I could.”
That was true, and also, they were getting over-stimulated.
“Well,” Xyla said. “That’s something. I guess you’re okay, then.” She fixed me with a stare. “I expect you in my garden at nightfall.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, jokingly.
“And bring lube. Or Lesseth, I suppose.”
“Lesseth is a lot of lube,” Valeria said.
“You can never have too much lube,” I said, mostly because I’d said it before and it came out more or less automatically. If Xyla wanted me to bring lube, it was because she wanted anal.
Lesseth just smiled. “Silicone-based or water-based?” she asked. “I’ve been practicing turning into either.”
“Slippery-based,” Xyla said.
“Oh, I guarantee that.”
“Wait,” Lysandra said. “She’s going to go in your –”
“Just my hand,” Lesseth said. “That’s all the lube they need. I call it fisting.”
Lysandra looked at Valeria, as if for confirmation of some sort.
Val shrugged. “Not for me,” she said. “Not unless you tie me down first.”
“So that you have no choice?” Lysandra asked. “Abby, you wouldn’t do that, would you?”
“She’d better,” Val said. “At least the tying part. Although I do like the part where what happens after that isn’t up to me.”
“It’s okay,” I said to Lysandra. “You’ll get used to everyone.” I hoped it was true. I still wasn’t sure I’d gotten used to everyone, but hey, what is life without something new in it every day?