Storyteller

Ramble to me if you have anything you wanna ramble about! I love hearing about people’s writing

Hi there! Not sure if this is the kind of ramble you wanted, but it’s what was on my mind when I saw this!

I always get a bunch of different ideas for small stories when I’m listening to my music. When I finally find to time to write again, I’m thinking about doing a “song a day” series where I listen to a song and write something based on it. Think I’d even let people send me in song recs, because I always need new music anyway.

As our ship neared the island, the captain warned us to plug our ears. He said he wouldn’t be sending any of his own men to come save us if we didn’t listen. The sirens were dangerous, and would surely bring death to whomever listened to their song.

I had my own theories about the sirens, however, and deemed not to cover my ears. Even if I did wind up stranded, ships passed by this area with rather alarming regularity considering how dangerous it was. I figured that I could survive that long, provided that I wasn’t drowned or eaten alive by the very creatures I was hoping to see.

When we were within range of the song, the effects were immediate. I was out on the deck, leaning on the railing and hoping to spot them through the mist surrounding the island. For a split second, I thought I caught a strange looking shadow in the gloom, but I wasn’t sure enough to call it for what it was.

The song appeared out of nowhere, promising me fame and power if I could only reach them and slay them. While their voices were pleasant, I had no desire to do such a thing, and I was able to resist the compulsion. They sang about the money and wealth that had been amassed on their island next, and that didn’t truly sway me either. It was when their song turned to promises of love, of caring, of being cherished, that I found myself leaping overboard without a second thought.

For someone as afraid of the ocean as I am, there was no fear in my heart as I began to swim through the waves. The sirens’ call seemed to change direction, with me following close behind it. In the still-conscious part of my brain, I took notice that they were leading me away from shipwrecks.

When I reached the sirens, they stopped singing just long enough for me to recognize that they had. The sirens looked precisely as the stories has said, birds with the faces of beautiful women, but with monstrous mouths full of sharp teeth. While I wasn’t upset by their appearance to begin with, as they started to sing again they were suddenly the most beautiful creatures in existence.

Their song changed tone slightly now that I stood before them. They were still singing about wanting to take care of me, but there was an undertone in it that wasn’t there before. Before I could even realize what was happening, I was undressing.

The sirens didn’t seem to have much desire in doing it themselves, instead telling me what they wanted me to do. I was sat down on the rocks in front of them, my legs spread wide in front of them all. In spite of the spell on me, I blushed from the intensity of their stares. It felt like I was being inspected by them, until finally they told me to start touching myself.

I was completely under their control as they treated me like an experiment. They constantly had me change positions, speed, and where I was touching myself. They seemed to enjoy my whining as I got close, as they’d wait until I was almost over the line and then make me completely stop. They did it over and over again, and I could feel myself losing more and more control each time. By the time they mercifully let me finish, I could barely even think strait. As I laid there, trying to remember my own name, I heard them start singing again.

They had me clean myself up, not wasting a single drop, then went about seeing how else they could bring me over the edge again. When they asked me where I was most sensitive, I answered before I could even think about it, like I had been given a truth serum. They seemed thrilled at that aspect of their spell, and proceeded to make me admit even more to them: fantasies, fears, and loves, nothing was off limits.

By the time they finished using the knowledge I had given them against me, I was too exhausted to even move. I was completely spent, and had finished dry several times. Even their song couldn’t rouse movement from me, and their singing changed again. The flow of irresistible orders faded, and a new chorus began.

They sang about making good on their words, how they would take care of me. The cleaned me off before snuggling in against me. I thought they were arguing about which one of them my head would rest on, but I was barely conscious enough to hear them at all. They gave me one last order, which I would have followed even without a spell underlying it.

“Sleep, little one.”

When I woke next, I was in a nest surrounded by bird women. According to them, I had started shivering from the cold night air and the ocean breeze, and they piled onto me to keep me warm. It had worked, and they were every bit as thrilled as I was. They said they would take care of me until the next ship came by, but that I couldn’t stay forever. When I asked them why, they didn’t answer, but that was okay. I told them I was theirs until then.

We lived peacefully for a while. They treated me like a toy at times, like a pet at others. Once they learned that I obeyed orders regardless, they started singing only when they wanted to see me do something for their enjoyment. They’d use me to their own satisfaction, whatever that was, then clean me and put me to bed.

It was a wonderful time, but I had to leave eventually.

The goodbye was tearful, and I told them that I would stop again if I was ever near this place again. They wished me well before commanding me to swim for the passing ship. The captain was shocked to see me, but was kind enough to clothe me and offer me space if I’d work off my debt. By the time we reached landfall, I had written the entirety of my adventure down.

I had known what I was looking for when I went into those woods. I had been warned off, told that there was a pack of bloodthirsty beasts, and they only got worse when the moon got full. I wanted nothing more than to see one of those monster wolves up close, so I waited until the full moon and went into the woods with nothing more than a few meager supplies.

What I hadn’t been expecting was for them to be as silent as they were ferocious. When the she-wolf pounced on me from behind, I had figured that I was dead then and there. She was going to tear me limb from limb and eat her fill of me. As I felt her claws on my shirt, I said a silent prayer to any god that might be listening, asking that it be over quickly.

Imagine my shock when, instead of digging her claws into my flesh, she merely cut up my shirt with that. My pants quickly followed, leaving me shivering in the cool forest air. She allowed me to roll over, and I got my first good look at her.

She was obviously more beast than human. Her eyes glowed a golden yellow, and her long strands of saliva hung between her long, white teeth. Her entire body was covered in thick, coarse, black fur from head to paw. Even though she could have been standing on two legs, she was crouched over me on all fours. I was still sure that I was going to be eaten alive when a peculiar scent reached my nose.

So that’s why they’re more active during the full moon, I thought as my nostrils filled with a heavy scent of arousal. Their heat cycle must have been coordinated with the lunar cycle.

I couldn’t help the reaction my own body had to her intoxicating scent, and I could swear that I saw her smile as my hardness made contact with where she wanted it the most. I could feel how damp her fur had gotten, and I swallowed thickly as I realized that she had me exactly where she wanted me.

She growled, a low bass noise that rattled my bones, and the fear within me reared its head with a demand that I run. As I tried to scramble out from underneath her, she put her two front paws on me and pinned me down. Even with my struggle fueled with raw panic, she held me down effortlessly.

The scent of her filled my nose as she kissed me, if it could even be called that. Her jaws were on either side of my head, and she forced her tongue into my mouth and down my throat. The feeling was so erotic, so filling, that I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me when she finally pulled back. Whether it was her intention or not, I had stopped struggling completely.

She cocked her head at me as if to say “isn’t that better?” right before sinking down onto me. She was warm, almost too warm to bear, as she started to ride me. She started out slowly, as if trying to take it easy on me, but she quickly lost her battle with self-restraint. Her pace was furious, the sound of our unholy union spreading throughout the forest.

My prayers to the gods rapidly changed from ending things quickly to lasting as long as possible, since I didn’t think she’d appreciate me going first. Fortunately, in a stroke of luck that I chalked up to her desperation, she reached the end of her rope first. She bit down on my shoulder as she clenched on me, and the pain mixed with the pleasure sent me over right after her. As we both came down from our respective highs, She released her vice grip on my shoulder. I could feel that I was bleeding, but there were more important things to worry about.

I had thought that one would be enough to satisfy her. What a fool I was. She didn’t even let me catch my breath, just starting again once she knew I had finished my first. I resumed struggling, the overstimulation of starting again so soon after my orgasm turning into a pleasurable kind of pain. It didn’t matter to her, however, as she took what she wanted from me. Again and again she brought herself over the edge, while it took longer for me each time. I was only half-conscious when I heard the sound of movement in the trees off to my left.

Another wolf approached me, this one obviously male. While it was smaller than the one currently on top of me, he was still easily a foot taller than myself. It must have been her mate, and dread filled me as I imagined what he would do now that he had caught us, even if I had been mostly unwilling in this union.

Instead of killing me, dropped to all fours over me. My nose was assaulted with a new smell, arousal of a different kind. I knew what he wanted from me, and I was neither foolish nor unwilling enough to disobey.

I opened my mouth.

He was larger, larger than any human I had ever seen, not that I was surprised. Like his mate, he also didn’t waste much time in seeing if I was comfortable. After making sure he could clear my teeth, he was down my throat. My gagging only seemed to spur him on as he rutted into me, and the feeling tipped me over the edge once again.

It wasn’t long until I felt his knot slapping against my lips. I knew he wouldn’t stop until he got it in, and I also knew that it would suffocate me if he succeeded. As a compromise, I reached up and squeezed it with both hands, giving the pressure he needed to erupt inside my throat. I thought I would drown, having to hold my breath with him buried as deep into my throat as he could get, but he pulled out just before I passed out.

Once I again, I hoped that one would be enough for him. Once again, I was proven wrong.

I lost track of time after that, caught in a web of pain, pleasure, and panic. When I had nothing left to give her, she took him. When he needed some aid, they used my tongue. When she was momentarily sated, he took me. I was helpless, passed between them like a toy, completely powerless to do anything but what they wanted. The nipped and scratched at me, seeming to take pleasure in the noises I made as they had their way with me. I lost myself in it all, babbling senselessly until I couldn’t talk any more at all.

When the first rays of dawn approached, the wolves finally put me down for good and took off into the woods. On shaky legs, I stood up and limped my way back to my home. I was covered in bite marks and scratches, my lips and hips and more bruised from the force of the wolves. My clothes had been torn to shreds, so I had to sneak through the streets so as not to be caught. After getting home, shower and sleep came first, then I began my normal routine.

Some of my marks were too visible to be covered, and I fielded questions for days about what happened. I just told them that I had survived not one, but two werewolf encounters. What kind of encounters weren’t any of their business.

I also wondered if the stories were true, now that I had been bitten. As the full moon approached, I never felt any difference in my body. No cravings or odd pains. My wounds had healed up fine over the last month, leaving behind almost no scars.

Awaken the Earth

When he awakened the Earth, It felt like he was being crushed. Gravity hit him like God had just dropped several large rocks on his back, and he struggled to stay standing up. He was strong, stronger than most of the people he knew, but the weight was too much on him. As his back began to bow, he heard cracking noises. The pain was so intense that he thought it was his bones, but he could see the rock below him had actually cracked.

He continued to struggle against the force pushing him down, and suddenly felt another force from below pushing him back up. He was caught between two boulders pushing In either direction, like the earth was chewing on him. His bones splintered into fragments. His lungs squeezed until he couldn’t inhale anymore. It felt like the very life was being squeezed out of him.

He screamed as he continued to push, putting everything he had left. His load seemed to lighten, just for a moment, before it came crashing back down on him. He felt himself go rigid, unable to move. He was Atlas, holding up the entire sky with a body that seemed to be steadily getting colder.

Am I dying? Passed through his brain, right before the darkness rushed up to greet him.

When he woke up, he was in the back of a truck. There wasn’t anyone in it with him, but he could feel the gentle sway as they moved. His hands and feet were cuffed together, forcing him to lie down on the trailer floor. Something about the truck’s motion made him nauseous, like he wasn’t properly anchored to the ground.

He took count of himself as he tried to remember what happened. The pain was still fresh in his mind. He remembered the feeling of his bones breaking, and glanced down at what he was sure would be his mangled legs. Instead, they seemed almost perfectly fine, aside from the fact that he could see layered stone encasing them. When he flexed his calf, the stones moved with them, and he could even see his pulse in them. A brief glance at the rest of him proved the same. His dark skin had been replaced by darker stone.

The truck screeched to a stop suddenly, sliding him along the floor until his back hit the front wall. Screaming came from the direction of the cab, and he could suddenly feel the inside of the trailer getting hotter. A roar that sounded more like it should have come from a dragon was followed by several ground shaking booms, and several smaller thumps against the side of the truck.

The sound of metal being torn apart attacked his ears, and the back doors to the truck opened. There, backlit by the afternoon sun, was a girl.

“Found him!” She shouted towards somebody he couldn’t see. As she stepped closer, he got a better look at her. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, and her teeth were jagged triangles in her mouth. The most striking thing, however, was the tail that seemed to be made of water attached to the end of her spine.

“The girl was quickly joined by a boy, with lines of fire crisscrossing his body and smoke pouring off of him. The girls tail started to steam as he walked by her and offered him a hand.

“Already awake, huh?” The boy said, an impressed look on his face. “You must be crazy strong. I passed out for hours when I got my powers.”

“Same here,” The girl chimed in. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the sound of sirens in the distance caught all of their attentions. “We should go.”

“Go where?” The young man grabbed the boys offered hand. He noticed how warm it felt to him, even though nothing had felt warm or cold since he woke up. As he reached his feet, pain ripped up his legs as his bones seemed to sheer against each other. He almost fell back down.

“Guess you’re not immune to all the side effects.” The boy said, half-carrying him outside. “I’ll explain everything I know on the way.”

The three of them stepped into the bright sunlight, and the young man was shocked by the carnage that surrounded him. Cars overturned and on fire, scorch marks on the road, and dozens of people lying unconscious.

Had they done this that quickly?

Waking up in the early 1300’s was an unwelcome surprise. I had taken enough history courses that I knew what was coming. I also knew the best places to avoid it, but I had to have a certain amount of money saved up for that trek. Knowing what I was best at, I joined the Edwardian War, quickly proving myself as a tactician and warrior, I became a captain at a young age. I stood on the front lines with my men, rushing into battle on foot rather than horseback. We became a group of routiers known as the Devil Fangs, and though I never allowed the pillaging others did, we were still quite handsomely paid.

It wasn’t until my group met its match that I found you. We survived, all of us severely wounded, and I found myself being taken care of by you.

“You were easy to find.” You smiled at me, and the ache in my chest had nothing to do with the stab wound. “Your name seems to follow you like a shadow.”

We laughed at that, knowing the truth of the statement. For all our lives at that point, there was always a Fang.

After my wounds healed, I left the service of the crown, citing injuries, and tried to get us as far away as I could. You knew as well as I did what was coming, which is why you had gone into medicine. You had studied enough to know how we could protect ourselves.

By the time the black plague consumed our society, we lived on a farm kilometers away from anyone else. We had animals and grain and my men as farmhands, allowing us all to live freely. Our life was hard, but honest and fair. Worried about our times, we were careful to avoid children this time.

We survived the plague, using our unique mix of hindsight and foresight to make sure we were washing regularly, and keeping rats away from our farm. My men were most grateful, but they soon grew bored and left once we knew it was safe. As for you and I, we were more than happy to live alone.

Like all good things, our life had to come to an end. Life expectancy was short then, and we passed from a sickness I couldn’t name. The fevers and sweats we had brought us both low quickly enough that I’m not sure who went first.

Of course, our last words were simple.

The first time our positions were swapped. I was born an aristocrat, my father a wealthy merchant. I grew up learning everything I could from him, from my letters to ethical business practices. I took to it quicker than the old man expected, probably at least in part due to all of my other experiences in other lives. It wasn’t long until I was running the front of the shop with him, younger even than other children my age were.

As I grew up, I continually kept my eyes peeled for any sign of you. Growing up, I only ever saw the other merchant children. Once I started helping along in the shop, I started watching customers. Still, there was never any sign of you.

As times went on and on, I became a successful businessman in my own right, using the opportunities for travel as a means to widen my search. I traveled alone so I could go where I pleased, even though it put a target on my back. I killed enough highwaymen that I earned a reputation, both for my ferocity and for my handmade weapon. Once other people began asking for versions of it, I gave them the name: the fang.

Imagine my surprise when I returned home from one such venture to meet the new servant girl our house had brought in. It must have shocked the daylights out of my mother when I kneeled in front of you, old habits dying hard even after all this time.

When I stood and held your face in mine, my father finally spoke up, asking what was going on. Luckily for us, my parents were stout believers in love at first sight, after experiencing it themselves ages ago. I merely told them that I was struck by her immediately. While they may not have been thrilled that I fell in love with a servant girl, you were the only girl I had ever shown any interest in whatsoever, so they gave their full support.

Our lives were busy, busy enough that we only ever had one child. I refused to leave you behind when I traveled, even when it was through dangerous areas. I protected you as fiercely as I ever had, and the bandits soon learned that though I was getting older and now had other people with me, I was no weaker.

I also took advantage of our extremely long amounts of alone time to teach you how to defend yourself, even in the ridiculous dresses that you frequently wore. You never had to, and I made sure you were never touched, but just in case. You didn’t take to it easily, but you were good enough to take an enemy by surprise and make sure they stayed down.

It was on one of my few solo trips that I finally met my end. You had stayed home with our son to prepare for the holidays, and I left for a quick delivery. The blizzard that blew in was uncharacteristically harsh, but I thought I was too. I figured I would make it back in time, but a patch of ice sent me over the road.