Book 2: Dirt Diver’s Dance
Hit Me Baby, One More Time Ch: 41
High on a rocky prominence, overlooking a night shrouded valley of peaceful forests and quiet townships, a gathering of highly unusual beings fell eerily silent, when the muscular little green witch doctor opened his cabinet of mysteries, revealing three objects of veneration.
Joy, artfully sculpted in green jadeite, weaning a mask of bone, adorned with coral red lips, Marduk, resplendent in white marble, gilt and a golden halo and Thirp…
Plump, plush, pudgy and sweetly cute, the doll’s spider body was disturbingly lifelike, while her human torso oozed sweet, sensual, innocent charm. A bra of exquisite, spiderweb lace held her massive furry breasts in constant suspension and collision, defying gravity and logic with simple sexiness. A loincloth of white silk, embroidered with stylized spider webs almost brushed her spidery front feet hid her secrets from impious eyes.
The face of that doll bore an expression of near childlike innocence and joy, drawing the gaze of Hermit, who still crouched in the shadows, as far from the others as he could manage.
“Ghnash… Have you hit your head?” The Hermit asked, his foot long fangs dripping venom, involuntarily revealing his deep concern for the chaotic, diminutive goblin.
The mind bendingly enormous, iridescent, rainbow hued, furry jumping spider crawled halfway up the wall, trailing a strand of web behind him; affection and distress evident in the stride of his eight legs. “I’m unsure…” He whispered hoarsely from his new perch.
“You can’t just come out with something like that and expect us to just accept it!” Judgment snapped at the smug, smiling goblin in green footie pajamas.
“We are going to play the Doubting Thomas now… Us?” The Star demanded with a laugh that shook the room.
“I’ll take you at your word, Ghnash; introduce me to your new friends, please.”
The Star followed his goblin brother, smiling radiantly, as always. “The supplicant needs only perform a simple rite before the Idols of Joy, Marduk and Thirp, entreating the gaze of those beings with the appropriate offerings.” Ghnash declared, a fevered light in his eyes.
“Joy needs only a heartfelt call and a yearning for her touch, directed in her holy name. Her Idol’s gaze will fall on you and if your soul resonates, she will come into your dreams.” The king of the goblins murmured softly.
“Offer lord Marduk these cakes and a cup of mint tea, with a request that he aid you in diligent study of the world around you.” The goblin intoned reverently. “That is his sacrament.”
“I assume that for the mighty and wise goddess Spider Boobs, I should reverently motorboat these divine ta-tas?” He demanded with an idiotic grin on his face, while eyeing the bodacious breasted plush drider doll sitting beside the other, more conventional idols.
Ghnash smiled and nodded in approval. “Indulge if you wish, just don’t get her dirty. My queen loves to cuddle her when we sleep. If you wish to petition lady Thirp, simply slip these under your pillow tonight.” The goblin murmured happily as he discreetly passed a small cloth object to the Star.
“For added efficacy, you could wear them on your head, or as a mask.”
The Star held up the tiny scrap of scarlet lace and silken strings, with deeply confused and amused expressions warring on his face, struggling for dominance.
“P-p-p… Panties?” He giggled, displaying the flimsy thing across his wide spread fingers, for everyone to see.
“No, no! Give them back if you don’t wish to…” Ghnash sputtered, suddenly upset over the casually revealed naughty undies. He chased after Star, who held the unmentionables up over his head for all to see; ignoring the goblin’s protests and furious attempts to snatch them back.
“No no! Don’t show them!” He gabbled and screeched in a fit of distress.
“Dude! That’s a long walk for a joke…” Star gasped, nearly crippled with laughter, as several others began to giggle or groan dramatically at the elaborate jest Ghnash had pulled off.
He passed the delicate red lace thong to Wheel of Fortune, who blushed and handed them off to the Necromancer as though they burned his flesh.
The pale man laughed for a moment, playing with the silky scrap of lace, just out of the furious goblin’s reach. After a moment he became distracted by the delicate bit of cloth in his large, pale hands. “Interesting, fine work, this…”
“No! Don’t just show your pantsu, all the magic will fade! Gahh! Double stupid and unclever!” The goblin gasped and sputtered, jumping up and trying to retrieve the undies from the much taller men all around.
In an impotent fury, he lapsed into goblin dialect for the first time in many years. “Lat nub gruk me’s mojo! Tu bangronk wid lat!”
“You really committed to the bit, this is really nice craftsmanship.” The Necromancer passed the textile to Hermit, an acknowledged expert in the craft and art of fabrics, for a more thorough examination.
The gathered Garies groaned as one being, when Hermit clambered down and gently passed the tiny panties back to the furious goblin; who was still sputtering and cursing them in his language.
“He’s quite correct, you know. The sly, seductive magic of barely glimpsed, forbidden things are the sacrament that lady Thirp craves.” The giant peacock spider whispered in his unnerving and musical voice, produced from a complex instrument of silk and animal bones.
“So callously and distastefully displaying the secret, sacred undies dispersed their magic. Now they must be cleansed and worn in an unconsummated seduction, to replenish their power.”
The others fell silent, listening when Hermit spoke in that tone of solemn wisdom. “This night, we have plotted against one of our brothers behind his back and abused the hospitality of another… We can and should aspire to be better.”
Eight gentle, contemplative eyes filled with wisdom scanned the room slowly, finding each all too familiar face in turn.
“We should devise a way to help our brothers, without leaving Ghnash unprotected, since he cannot leave his realm.”
“Faugh… I have sealed my Contract with lady SpiderBoobs and have been cleansed of my blood curse. In a few hours I will go with the Necromancer to help Ace… If he needs and wishes our help.” The surly goblin grumbled at the group.
“The rest of you can split your efforts as you wish. I will depart at sundown… after breakfast. My ladies are awaiting my return, good day, brothers.”
He turned and prepared to go back upstairs, his back rigid and his eyes hard.
“I’m sorry, Ghnash…” The Star caught his diminutive host by the sleeve and halted him for a moment at the foot of the stairs. “I shouldn’t have made light of your… presentation.” He smiled in embarrassment and shrugged. “The butt floss caught me by surprise.”
“I understand…” Ghnash muttered finally. “Here, use these tonight.” He said, passing the larger man another small textile, this one of thin, white silk.
“More ladies undies?” He asked with a smirk.
“No, you shamefully displayed my beloved queen’s panties to the whole crowd…” Ghnash answered with a wicked grin of his own. “You can use the spare. That’s my banana hammock in your hands.”
The little green man ducked out of the Star’s grip and was halfway up the stairs before his much taller brother could do anything stupid.
“Sweet dreams, with my dirty, goblin cock sock under your pillow.”
“You are a super asshole, bro.” The Star sighed in defeat at the escaping sovereign. “I really do need to see those spidery boobies though.”
The Star shot a look at Hermit, up near the rafters again, trying to slip into the welcoming shadows there.
The smiling man chuckled merrily, as the arachnid tried to hide his massive form from the rest of the group. It was certain; the spider was… embarrassed and shy about something or other.
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Concealed in the high, shadowy corner of the common room ceiling, in an intersection of beams just below the peak of the roof; Hermit settled into his cozy little nest.
He reverently placed a neat, web bundle of giant mosquitos on his personal altar, below his nearly completed tapestry, bearing her glorious, silken image in splendid detail and rich, sumptuous colors.
She lounged across a stylized web in his incomplete work, her eight legs in a casual and relaxed pose, her eyes fixed on the viewer with startling intensity. His abdomen bobbed involuntarily in excitement, as he contemplated those radiant fangs, picked out in silver thread by his own arts.
Hermit sighed as he settled in, hoping for another glimpse of the divine being that had scuttled around the periphery of his senses for the last few nights.
Ever since molting in the goblin’s rafters, his sleep had been… ‘troubled’ by visions and hints that moved him in ways he’d never felt before.
Every night, in the depths of his slumber, a single white furred appendage would invariably pluck his web, drawing out a long, sensual bass note.
When he looked, she was always just vanishing into the shadows, granting him a fleeting hint of her coquettish beauty, a long, slender leg, a glimpse of pale, white furred abdomen or a strand of fragrant silk, drifting on an unfelt breeze.
Some subtle power or being was toying with his dreams in the night, waking him with unremembered visions and sensations that left him unsure, but intrigued and desperate to learn more about the compelling, fascinating entity stalking his sleep. The unknown influence felt playful, cheeky and more than a little… sexy.
Hermit closed his eyes with a long, subsonic sigh that ended with a faint, silent gasp of some emotion he was still working through.
He slowly began to unwind the tight web of his emotions and thoughts, picking the day’s knots and tangles from the threads of his mind. Sleep descended on him slowly, sending a soft, cold trickle of mingled fear, hope and anticipation running through his body, sweetly tingling every hair on his carapace.
“Hello… Gary Ward, lost scion of my dear one.” A faint whisper sang softly through the deep, shady forest he found himself in. “You can’t begin to understand how pleased I am to finally touch your soul in this place.”
Hermit scuttled under the low hanging boughs of a mulberry tree, instinctively seeking shelter, despite the comfortable warmth the voice carried.
“L…lady Thirp?” He asked reverently, uncertainty and a hint of fear in his voice. “Are you the goddess the goblin king spoke of?”
“No.” The word rang out, carrying finality and undeniable truth. The voice seemed closer now, if distance meant anything in the strange, dreamy forest, beneath a mad, swirling sky, lit by a huge, pale golden moon and a spinning, blue and white marble drifting among the stars.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I am Aclintherios, spinner of Fates… and sweet lady Thirp’s patron deity.” The speaker continued, sounding both terrifyingly vast and unimaginably distant.
“I have come for you in her stead, child of my friend; at my beloved Thirp’s request. She will appear before you when our business is completed.”
As they spoke, with almost glacial inevitability, a pale form began to coalesce in the void. Hermit remained unsure whether the phenomenon was close enough to reach out and touch, or so distant as to beggar his imagination, he couldn’t be sure. With certainty he could say; whatever was approaching or appearing was beyond vast.
Tall as a mountain and incomprehensibly massive, a gleaming white huntsman spider crouched among the stars and whirling galaxies, just too close for Hermit’s comfort and too far away to conceal the being’s monstrous power and grandeur.
“Yes, you can perceive me now, my child, if only faintly…” The whispery voice carried the scents and essence of a warm morning in late spring, redolent of new life, growth and vigor on its drifting strains of sweet music.
“My child, Thirp cannot Contract you… for reasons of her own, this is why I am come here…” The being sighed, soft as a gentle breeze; his intent just as all pervasive and undeniable as the wind itself.
“Accept my blessing, mortal… You have been searching for something, all unknowing what it is that calls to your soul…” The entity whispered gently, lest the tiny mortal’s ephemeral dream should blow away on his breath.
“Perhaps you may discover what you have been seeking, has been seeking you all along.”
“Blessing?” Hermit stammered at last, when the entity paused, awaiting a reply. “Are you one of the deities that has blessed my brother, Ghnash the goblin king?”
“No, the goblin man has no affinity for my essence; the human soul within him is not for me. I am no god of humanity, simply a friend and confidante of the man you once were.” The mountain sized spider whispered patiently.
“You may decline my gift without fear, child. I am eternal and you will find yourself drawn to this place, seeking me time and again… Until you accept what your soul cries out for.”
“So you claim I have no choice?” Hermit asked, a little more boldly.
“All you have are choices, mortal. All you are and all you will be stems from choices… yours and the decisions of others’.”
The being began to fade from his perceptions, slowly drifting away like mist before a freshening breeze.
“Though, you are mortal… As such, time remains a problematic variable. Most find it’s best to get busy with living while you can; if you would like some unsolicited advice.”
The being sighed breathily as it faded. “Death can appear before you at any moment, my child.”
With that highly encouraging reminder, the entity departed, leaving the Hermit standing in a shadowed forest, under an alien sky. Out of curiosity, he turned his attention to the celestial bodies that dominated the firmament high above.
The moon, bright and golden in the sky, was not the moon that the human part of him had been born under. The surface bore a pattern of craters that was entirely different and its distinctive golden light was unfamiliar, though warm and pleasant.
The white and blue planet was likewise, not the earth he faintly remembered from his human recollections. The continents below… or above him bore no similarity to earth at all. To make matters more confusing, no domain he had traveled to possessed a moon of any kind, certainly not an additional planet circling in the heavens!
“This is utter lunacy.” He whispered into the silent forest surrounding him. “Is this madness?”
“He’s a sharp cookie.” A sweet, feminine voice murmured from behind him.
“Madness indeed… He has eyes to see!” An additional sweet, lilting call joined the growing chorus of invisible speakers.
“Hmm… a truly clever being would have accepted Aclintherios without hesitation.” Another voice replied, when he leapt about to find who had spoken, finding no one. He whirled again… and was again alone.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Sealing just any chance met immortal to one’s soul would be foolish… our new friend is certainly not the Fool.” Another whisperer joined the conversation, while also remaining unseen.
“I wonder how long we can keep this up…” Yet another female being sighed from the forest boughs.
“Girls…be nice.” A man stepped from beneath a spreading fig tree at the edge of the small glade, dressed all in black and draped in a hooded leather cloak. His voice carried just a little firmness, and a great deal of affection for the hidden speakers. “This is just one of the reasons we get so few visitors.”
He turned his dark hood on the Hermit and sighed. “They are reluctant to show themselves to you, Hermit. Trust me that they mean you no harm.”
“It’s you! The man with the borrowed snake…” The arachnid gasped, startled by the sudden appearance of yet another entity in the shadow haunted glade.
“Is that what you call me?” The man asked, sounding disappointed.
“I never get super edgelord titles…” The concealed man complained in a voice that was annoyingly familiar. “I’m working really hard here, buddy!”
“Ghnash was right… you are one of us…” The massive, colorful spider whispered unhappily. “He said your name is Ward… and some other stuff.”
The fellow carried on, as if the spider hadn’t spoken. “...I get no respect! Gary is called ‘Shadowmounted’ when he’s with Eponna’s herd, ‘Deathshadow’ among the Aracneans, ‘The Mad Witch’ to most humans… and the Beastfolk have dozens of super chunni names for him… I get ‘Borrowed Snake’!? It’s really not fair!”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, so I’ll be going… somewhere, I guess.” Hermit muttered, as he tried to slip into the forest, hoping to escape before anything ridiculous could happen.
“No, my friend… you need my guidance. I’ll be helping you through this difficult phase in your development.” The mad, cloaked man sighed happily and sat down in a cozy, plush velvet wing chair in the woods… where no chair had been a moment before.
“Sit with me and talk for a while; about who you were, who you are and who exactly you want to be…”
At his words, a strange sensation washed over the Hermit, a profound feeling of ease welled up from within, as his vision blurred and distorted for a moment.
Hermit’s sober, tranquil, ascetic mind, honed through diligent and solitary practice over many years, slowly began to betray him. The man’s words churned up old memories and thoughts, bubbling from the depths of his psyche in this entity’s presence.
Like Ghnash, the Star and many of the others, this being had a deeply rooted taint of madness and a profoundly unserious streak.
“Much better, Ward. This is much less distressing.” A sweet, feminine voice whispered behind the confused arachnid, causing him to wheel about clumsily, nearly tripping over his feet.
‘Feet?’ He thought briefly, before getting distracted.
A small, dark haired asian woman… or perhaps a child, with shocking violet eyes stood just a few feet away, draped in exquisite robes of plum purple, banded with golden knotwork. A garland of living plum blossoms crowned her head, glistening with dew under the moonlight, lending her an air of regal splendor and whimsical authority.
“Gary Ward, this is Plumeria, dryad of the eternal plum grove.” The cloaked man said proudly.
“She’s my baby’s mama!”
“Ward! That’s demeaning!” The tiny woman scolded her much larger mate, waggling her finger imperiously at him and hurling threats. “I’ll tell Mariah what you called her beloved mother!”
“Agreed!” A tall, lean woman with straight blonde hair chided him, as she stepped from the woods, wearing a gown of snowy white cotton. “Speak more courteously to your mates, young man!”
“Pine, baby, you know I’m a feminist at heart!” He wheedled and pleaded, his palms held up to ward off the angry women. He backed slowly around the little clearing, Hermit was forgotten for the moment, as Ward pleaded with a growing bevy of ladies with flashing eyes and sharp tongues.
“Feminist schmeminist!” Another woman scolded him from the woods, striding out completely nude, her small breasts jiggling pertly as she stomped toward the beleaguered man in the cloak.
She was short, with a small frame, smooth, pale skin and a truly astounding bottom. The damsel jiggle walked her badonka-donk right up to the tall figure and glared up into his hood, unperturbed by his height or her own nudity.
“Using disrespectful language like that toward the mother of your child…” She sucked her teeth and sighed at him in exasperation.
“Pear, my sweet darling… You know how I feel about all of you ladies…” He stammered, dropping his hood and flashing a smile that glinted bright white under the moon and stars.
“Sequoia…” Plumeria said quietly to the absurdly enormous, ruddy cheeked, pale skinned, red haired woman who was suddenly towering above the poor man.
“Dearie, please take Ward over to the hotspring and explain to him in detail where he erred; I will talk to our friend while you… attend to our wayward mate.”
She rounded on the confused spider, her violet eyes travelling up and down, examining him in a way that sent shivers down his…
“Spine?” He stammered weakly, feeling at once vulnerable and completely at ease among the slowly growing throng of beautiful, female humans around him.
“Yes, Gary Ward, or the Hermit, if you prefer…” The tiny woman in purple said softly.
“You have a spine, feet, two legs and a human man’s form in this place. Here, your body resembles your soul more faithfully. When you return to the waking world, you will once more be a man who looks like a spider.”
She met his eyes confidently and gave him a few moments to come to terms with the last few minutes. He was human again, dressed in simple clothing that was loose and comfortable, standing in a clearing that was simply swarmed with beautiful girls. They giggled and chattered, pointing at him and whispering behind their hands in ways he was obviously supposed to notice. Embarrassed and stressed to his limit by the focus of so many strangers, Hermit struggled to mull over a few things.
Really, he mostly watched in amusement, as the giant woman carried the man off into the woods, casually stripping away his clothing as they went.
“Don’t struggle, Ward baby. It’ll be easier on you if you don’t resist.”
“But resisting is the fun part!” He whined, as they vanished among the trees.
“He’s a silly one, our Ward.” Plumeria sighed fondly, smiling at the departing duo. A moment later, her wise, ancient gaze fell back onto the hapless and confused being standing among the many, many women gathered around.
They surrounded him in every variation of skin, eye and hair color, every stature and girth and all the combinations one could imagine.
“You are far less foolish than he, that’s a relief.” Plumeria muttered with a satisfied smirk curling the corners of her perfect, plump lips.
“I’m really confused, about… everything.” Hermit sighed hopelessly, as he sank into Ward’s abandoned plush chair.
“Gary… I can call you Gary, right?” She murmured, while climbing into his lap in the capacious chair and making herself comfortable.
Startled by the sudden intimacy, he nodded mutely.
“Excellent, Gary.” She kissed his cheek ever so lightly and smiled brightly at him and at the gathered ladies all around, silently watching the interaction.
“This is going very well. Run along, we’ll be fine now.” She said to the gathered host of beautiful and scantily clad women.
At her softly spoken word, they withdrew silently; within a few seconds they were entirely alone in the forest… kinda. It was a little creepy at first, as Hermit caught the soft whispery sound of rustling leaves, concealing their eager and excited chatter in the susurrus and whisper of the boughs.
“Dryads, darling. This is a forest of dryads, we are all around and in this place, we can all share this conversation, without distressing your mortal mind.”
She graced him with a dazzling smile and hugged close to his chest for a long moment, clinging to him as if he were a boon companion, finally returned after a long absence.
“We all know you aren’t really him…” She murmured in Hermit’s ear… which was weird as well, having ears again after so long without them. As if she sensed his thought, she whispered again, very gently.
“Just relax, be yourself and don’t think about how many lovely ladies are listening right now.”
The small woman in purple snuggled closer to his chest, ensconcing herself in the chair and his arms with confident hands and a fearless bottom. When she was arranged to her liking, looking up from her snug nest on his lap, she reached up and patted his cheek gently.
“You have much to learn and even more to come to grips with, young spider boy.”
The brown eyed, solemn man took a deep breath, savoring the familiar novelty of having human lungs and a mouth again after so long.
“I’ve been walking the worlds as I am for nearly three hundred years, lady Plumeria. I am no child to be guided by spirits, no matter how charming.” He fixed her with a sober gaze and waited patiently for her to digest that.
“Three hundred mortal years! She gasped in shock and wonder. “I must discover your skincare secrets, my dewy, young, mortal treat.” Her display of awe at his venerable age vanished with a girlish giggle of mirth, as she kissed his cheek once more.
“Silly child! I have been watching your antics for a while now… ever since your progenitor…” She smiled, sweetly sad and a little lost for a few seconds, before she continued.
“Well, that’s all in the past; right now we are talking about the future…” She delivered another sweet, almost childlike smile of delight, discomfiting him in ways Hermit felt unprepared to think about too deeply; like the way she fit into his embrace so perfectly.
The curve of her hip nestled in so very sweetly… and her small, silk draped breasts pressed against his chest, passing her warmth and heartbeat directly to his body in very distracting ways.
“...which is appropriate, since in this place, now is pretty much all there is. This place exists just a little outside your usual perception of linear time.”
She finished her dissertation and gave him a sweetly knowing smile once again, gently informing him that he’d entirely lost focus… And that she knew why. “Any questions?”
“Uh…?” He replied wittily, dazzling her with the cleverest thing he could think of.
“Exactly.” She whispered, nestling in against him and slipping her tiny hand inside his shirt, to rest over his heart. “For now, listen and learn. I have much to instruct you in, before we are done here.”
As if to emphasize her whispered instruction, she slowly raked her nails down the bare skin of his chest, exploring the contours of his body, drawing an involuntary gasp from his new lips, which were also super nostalgic.
“Three hundred years is a respectable lifespan for any mortal… if lived well and fully.” She whispered. “I mentioned that I’ve been watching you for a while, boy. Do you think you’ve lived well and fully, so far?”
Her breath was warm and gentle on his throat, while her other hand slowly stroked the nape of his neck, up into his hairline. Gently, Plumeria’s delicate, tiny fingers scratched and caressed his scalp and ears, roaming freely, wherever she could reach, distracting him from her other hand.
“Lady Plumeria…” Hermit whispered hoarsely, when he realized her right hand was inside his trousers, resting below his navel, right at the edge of a thatch of curly hair.
“Call me Meria… my sweet.” She breathed gently against his throat.
“I’m… I’m not sure that’s a great idea… Isn’t Ward your… husband?” He asked weakly, very weakly indeed.
“That silly lump of muscle is delightful, but a husband? No… not as such.” She smiled sweetly up at him, her almost childlike face and disturbingly ancient, violet eyes confusing him in a number of very upsetting ways. Especially since her right hand started making little scratchy circles, roaming around his lower abdomen like she owned the place.
Silence fell over the woodland, as her tiny hands roamed over his body, touching his face, chest, back belly and almost, very nearly, within a curly hair’s breadth of coming to grips with…
With something else he hadn’t had in a very, very long time.
“All those years, lived as a monk, alone in the forest, eschewing contact with others…” She whispered. “Meditation and asceticism are all well and good; in moderation, sweet child.” She sucked her teeth softly in gentle scorn and kissed his cheek again.
“To live so long without mortal love and touch… Such a pity, but such an opportunity.” She gasped excitedly, wriggling even closer to him and expanding her explorations to include his lower back, down to the swell of his buttocks.
“Even I have never seen a three hundred year old virgin before.” She gasped excitedly. “So much to teach you…”
“But, Ward… he’s your…? We just met…” He gasped, carefully struggling in her slender, but surprisingly strong arms.
“Forget him for now.” She locked her eyes with his in an instant, halting his attempts to escape with the force of her Will. “You shall obey, you must learn, you will become what is needed.” The tiny creature whispered into his throat, her teeth nipping and nibbling as she spoke.
In the silence that followed, a faint male voice drifted to their ears:
“Thank you Sequoia, may I have another!?”
Those words received only a sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh, with a resounding crack in reply, followed by a quiet yelp of pain, mixed Ward’s mad giggle of delight.
“Thank you Sequoia, may I have another!?” Ward pleaded, lost somewhere in the forest of invisible sighs and giggles.
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