Igneous Ngana (1015 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Necro
Rating: 2 on 24 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Snark << snarkk.at.gmail.com (View user info) at 2005-11-29 15:50:59 EST
http://www.ubersite.com/m/79673 - Igneous Fall
http://www.ubersite.com/m/79748 - Igneous Intent
IGNEOUS NGANA
The sponge clears a path through the burnt skin, dried blood, and the bits of cloth that are cooked into it.
She moves it in slow broad stokes with strong practiced hands, like a painter priming a canvas, then pushes it into the bowl of water, herbs, and God knows what else, before doing it again.
The mixture is cool and soothing. It dribbles down my back and legs, and stains the dark wood beneath me black.
I could sleep right now. I could drift off and a shiny quarter says I'll still be standing here when I wake up, as long as Ngana doesn't stop. The pain in my back is all but gone and my ribs have settled down to a dull throb. Yeah, I could almost fall into the grey beyond, if not for the lust in me - darkly spreading - and that feeling that I have had since I left the station. That strange out-of-place feeling deep in the middle of me, like something's been knocked askew, like something's busted in my guts and it don't fit right anymore.
The basement of this place reeks of ritual and old secrets. The brick walls are dusty red and painted with bright white symbols. The lines are wavy and broken, as if the fingers of a child, or the shaking hand of an artist caught in the throws of rapture, brought them into being. There's a table full of jars and bones and half melted candles sitting against the far wall. There's a blanket concealing a doorway to another part of this strange place that feels more cave than room, more Africa than America.
There are three mats laid out in the middle of the room. The one in the center is circular and thick. It's deep brown and a picture of a faded blue river is sewn into it. The other two mats are square and just as thick. They sit on either side about three feet away from the first. Both are embroidered with images also. One depicts a slaughtered bull, the other a rising sun.
"You going kill de woman who done this too you?"
Her accent is thick like molasses, and strangely comforting, like the thick smoke from a good Havana, or that first warm coffee on a cold morning.
"She was no woman, and she beat me to it."
She moves her hands to my front and runs them over the grooves pounded into my ribs.
"And de man who did dis ting to you?"
I don't answer and she doesn't ask again.
"De woman was very powerful Mistah Kane. Her magic is deep. She must have cared for you very much."
"Yeah, I can tell by the love marks on my back."
"De marks are not Seductress magic. Dey something else... Necromantic I tink."
A wave of cold runs through me, and for a moment, all the old aches resurface as I realize things have taken a turn for the worse.
Delaney hit me too low and too hard. Something I need ain't working, which means I'm running out of time in this world. I got Martini breathing down my back, and he knows I'm beat up. The hospitals are out of the question. He'll have men watching them. I'm dying, and in the dark, and everything I own is missing. That's enough to deal with right there. That's more than enough problem for a mug like me. I don't need this too.
I figured the dame to be on Martini's payroll but that doesn't fit anymore. He's connected, and the mob don't mess with the Necros. Nobody messes with the Necros in this town. Nobody's that ain't stupid anyways. It's the way things work. It's part of the unwritten laws we all go by, like turning a blind eye to a cop taking money. You don't mess with them and they don't mess with you. I'd been worried the Necromancers might be involved the second I saw the two dead thugs come through my office door, but I didn't want to think about it. I'd done my part. I'd turned my back on more than one occasion when my work took me far enough into the shadows to reach their domain.
Every kid knows that you don't go into the closet when the Boogeyman is visiting.
I hear Ngana put the bowl on the table behind me and I turn to face her. She's looking at me with those big dark eyes. She's looking into me with them and her brow is knit in concern. I'm standing naked before her. I should be embarrassed or ashamed but I'm not, maybe because I'm hiding behind my bruises, or maybe because there's nothing about her that suggests anything but arcane interest.
She might be beautiful - this dark woman - but then again, she might not. Her face is striking but plain. Her cheekbones are high but thick. Her lips are broad but I can't help but wonder if she's ever smiled. Her hair is thick, braided, and inlaid with beads. It's pulled back and tied behind her head with a scarf that's as vibrantly orange as the loose tribal dress she's wearing.
"Can you remove it?"
"De symbols? No... De woman's magic? Yes."
"I should tell you. I ain't got but fifty dollars..."
She nods and smiles for the first time and I'm thinking she is beautiful, but in a rare way, a strong way... like royalty should be.
"I take no pay from you Mistah Kane. You bring many men to Mama Ngana, and most of them good men. They all pay and they all learn. I hear about you from other's who visit me. I hear you a hard man. I hear you got little feeling in you, but you fair, and fair is rare in the places we walk, you and I."
She closes her eyes and whispers something under her breath, then opens them and brings the fingers of her left hand to her lips. She kisses them then taps me firmly on both shoulders before continuing."
"Dis woman is strong in you but she can be removed. I got de majicks to do it but you must understand. I'm no Seductress. Dis olden magicks. Dis Sex Magicks, pure and true. Old magick is the hardest to perform but strong. Dis ting I gonna do; Some of it Egyptian, some of it Swahili. It's Mama's secret recipe and it work but, I need your good word that you do as Mama says no matter what happen."
"I'm not a stranger to ritual. Just get her out of me."
For a second her face becomes sad.
"You in such a hurry to get rid of her burn... "
"You know what's going on inside me. I don't have the luxury of time."
I can see by her expression that she's figured it out too. She knows I'm a dead man but doesn't want to say it.
She turns her head to the stained wood between her feet, and when she speaks her voice is soft, almost reverent,"
"De women of sex and majick are not what you think. De Seductress are not born evil, not born dirty. It is a strong gift, strongest of all maybe, and like all tings, it start out pure and vulnerable. Dey say it de Cleric who is opposite de Necromancer but dey wrong. Mistah Cleric heals but he is not life. De Seductress is life. She is de river before she is turned into lust by a man's hand. De power is not meant for lust only, just as de power of de Necromancer is not meant for death only. Dis tings are tools given to us by the Gods. Dey good things twisted by men..."
I don't have time for this. I don't have time for right and wrong and the dark alleys in between. I don't have the luxury of giving in to the mysteries of her thick tongue. I got men to kill and stuff to collect. I got things to do so I can die with some answers, and fifteen large in my cold right hand. I can't listen to her speak of the evils of men, because I've got it to do in spades, so I nod and give her a look that tells her just that.
She sees it and nods back then takes me by the hand and leads me to the mat with the bleeding bull.
"Dis your place."
I kneel on creaking knees and she claps her hands twice, hard, and then turns to the curtain. A moment later a woman steps through. She's thin and her skin is so dark, I can barely see her face in the meager candlelight. She's carrying a pig in her arms. It's small and bright pink against her.
Ngana says something to her in her native tongue then nods to me and the woman approaches and pins the animal down beside me with thin hands.
"De old God's demand sacrifice for favors" says Ngana "Dis one is yours."
She reaches into her dress and retrieves a knife. The blade is thin and razor sharp. It glints evilly in the dull light. I take it and put it under the pigs throat as Ngana bends beside us, then push it in deep and pull it across the artery on one side.
The Pig squeals and kicks, but the woman holding it is stronger than she appears and it stays in place, until its life is finished splashing into the ornately carved bowl held under it by Ngana's broad hand.
She stands and beckons me to do the same while the priestess wraps the pig in a large rag and places it on the table.
"Dis de blood of a Pig. Dis one half of de soul of man."
Ngana places one hand in the bowl then holds it up to show me. The blood glistens bright red and runs down her forearm in thick rivulets as she whispers words too low for me to hear, before pushing it firmly onto my chest, just above my heart.
She holds it there for a second then steps back and says something else I don't understand, then brings her bloody hand hard across the right side of my face, and then again across the left.
"Dis de violence of a man. Dis part of the half-soul."
I blink and resist the urge to hit her back. I will my muscles to relax and my hands to unclench, and watch as she brings the woman to stand before me.
"Dis Kiijto. Dis the river tru which the majick flow and is cleaned, from de source to me."
Kiijto moves to stand before me. Her face is thin and the lines on it are sharp. Her hair is cropped short, almost shaved, and the edges of her thin lips turn slightly upwards in a shy smile as she speaks what I guess must be a greeting.
"Jambo."
Her voice is soft and alluring and she places her hand on my chest, directly over the bloody print left by her mistress, then steps back.
Ngana takes her place before me. She's begun to chant. Her voice is low and throaty. She's holding her hand out towards me palm up, and as I lean forward to see what's in it, she blows hard, sending a cloud of bright yellow powder into my face. It shoots into my nose and throat and I gag. It tastes like soap and fruit and it stings my eyes like the smoke of a cheap cigar. I push my palms hard against them and rub the sting out, and when I open them again, the women have moved and the world isn't quite the same.
Kiijto has taken up the chant. She's standing in the center of the circular mat and her back is to me. Ngana is standing in front of her and I can't quite make out what she's doing. I turn my attention to the walls as the symbols on them shimmer then begin to undulate, and when I turn my head back, Kiijto is naked. Her exposed skin is just as dark as the rest of her. It's smooth and unblemished and the lust burning within me causes a stirring between my legs at the sight of her small shapely ass.
The chant become less guttural, it softens and draws out until it's almost a song, and I try to blink clarity into a strangely shifting world as Ngana walks naked towards me.
She's thinner than I expected but not thin. Her hips are broad but her belly is flat. Her breasts are large and sway as she walks, but they're full and capped by exquisitely shaped nipples. Her thighs are muscular and thick and the black thatch of hair standing out between them glows perfect black, like wet asphalt under a street lamp. The word 'Amazon' whispers itself in my ear.
She has a black glass vial in her hand and she uncaps it as she stops in front of me. She places the opening against the tip of one nipple, tilts it up, and then does to the same to the other. She speaks something arcane then cups one generous mound under her hand, pushes it towards me, and says "Bite."
I lean forward, and down, and place my mouth over it. I close my teeth gently around it and flick my tongue over the flesh between them despite myself.
This time the taste is sweet, and I don't hesitate when she offer's me the other breast and repeats her command.
I can hear drums now. They beat in perfect tune with the song that Ngana has joined. I search the room with my eyes for the source of the beat but find nothing, and then the Priestess is pushing me back down on my knees.
For a split second my face is inches away from her sex, and it's filled with a musk unlike any I've ever known. It's rich and alien and almost completely intoxicating and I feel my tongue making its way out of my mouth, like a charmed snake, but then she turns and strides back to kneel at her own mat.
Kiijto is beginning to sway to the rhythm sounding out ghostly from the walls. Her thin body waver's in front of me, and after a time, I feel myself leaning left then right, in unconscious union with her movements.
I look down at myself, at the drying blood and the bruised skin, and wonder what I'm doing. My cock stands stiffly against my belly but I'm not sure I can feel it. I'm not sure I can feel anything, and then the volume of the song increases and that lustful burning flares up again. It runs up my back like a whore's touch, firm and schooled, then down and into my balls, and I can't help but cry out at the intensity of it.
I look up again and Kiijto is down on her hands and knees. Her legs are spread and her ass is high in the air. I pink line of wet flesh runs down the middle of the black curls at her center, and I don't think I've wanted anything worse in my life.
I'm tempted to stand. I'm fighting to the urge to rush her and bury myself deep inside, but my legs feel like they're made of cement. I glance down to make sure they're still flesh and bone, and when I look back up, Kiijto isn't there anymore. She's been replaced by Delilah Baines, or she has become the Seductress somehow.
She's looking back at me, and moaning her brazen need. She's licking her lips and slowly pushing her pale heart shaped ass up and down in the air, as if she can't wait for me to be behind her, thrusting hard.
I blink again and Kiijto is back, and the song picks up a pace. The walls start to slide by and it takes me a second to realize that it's the mat that's moving. Except it's not moving of it's own accord so much as being pulled, and it's not being pulled so much as I am. It is merely sliding under my weight. Something is calling the lust in me. Something has grabbed the burning in my dick and it's guiding me in.
Ngana is on her back. Her eyes are closed and her mouth makes the words that fill the room. Her thighs are apart and her mat has moved as well. Her pelvis is out of my view below Kiijto's head, and her hands are kneading her breasts as she chants. She chants her chant in sing song language and now I'm feeling it as much as I hear it. It presses against me in waves. It moves up and down my body like pleasure looking for a home and I do my best to open myself to it, to let it's rhythm decide my own, until I'm one with it; Each thrust a drum beat, each beat a grunt.
The priestess senses my surrender and pushes back against me, her cries become loud and guttural, but they're almost drowned out by the Seductress power screaming within me as the roaring in my cock becomes an unbearable pressure. She arches her back to take every last inch of me inside the dark continent between her legs, and I'm close but I can't find release. The lust won't leave. It likes its new home.
I think Ngana senses it too, she's increased the rhythm of her chant and my thrusts are coming faster now. I'm slamming into Kiijto hard. My world is instinct. It's thrust and drumbeat and shimmering air. I'm almost dead, yet more alive than I've ever been and I would gladly ride her cries into eternity. I want to lose myself to her musk and wet promise but Ngana won't have it. She wants this done. Beads of sweat stand out on her forhead. It's creased with effort and she's huffing like a woman giving birth. She sits up and reaches out. She wraps long fingers in my hair, pulls me forward and fills my mouth with her tongue; fills me with her own lust until it pushes Delilah out, and I'm yelling and cumming deep inside Kiijto's quivering hole.
My release is as much torture as rapture and it comes in waves. It's all consuming and earth splitting and I'm lost in it like a ship in a storm, until I hear her voice. I open my eyes and the drums stop. Ngana is saying something but all I can hear is the ringing in my ears and Kiijto's deep moans. I close my eyes again but Ngana's hand strikes my cheek hard and her words finally find a way inside.
"Out! Out now!"
For a second I consider staying where I am. Kiijto is so damned tight and my cock is still mostly hard. It still feels like heaven being inside her, but then something touches the tip of me. Something pushes against it as if looking for a way back in and I throw myself to the cold floor with a yelp.
Kiijto grunts as I dismount, then falls - trembling - onto her belly. She curls into a ball and groans and I'm wondering what I filled her with. I'm wondering what I've done to her because I can see the end of my dick, and I can see the lips of her pussy, and there's nothing there. There's no cum... no seed, dripping from either of us.
She twitches once, then twice, then cries out again, and this time it's not pleasure in her voice but pain.
I move to help her but Ngana signals me to stay where I am. Her face is concerned but resolute. She's worried for her priestess but I think she's telling me that Kiijto must be left to fulfill her purpose.
The priestess struggles to her hands and knees then gags as if she's about to throw up. She moves shakily towards Ngana then stops, and a wisp of greenish steam escapes from her mouth. She says something to her mistress then cries out again as Ngana lays on her back and spreads her legs.
I'm thinking something's gone wrong. I'm thinking I poisoned her somehow, or the Seductress essence is to strong to tame. I'm thinking I've killed this woman because the veins in her arms and neck look ready to burst and she's shaking like a kitten before the lion's maw.
I make to move to her. To comfort her at least, despite Ngana's warning, but she suddenly raises her head to the ceiling and screams high and loud, then buries her face between Ngana's legs, and now it's Ngana's turn to fill the room with pain.
She bucks her hips as the force of whatever's passing between them rips through her. She squirms, despite herself, but Kiijto has her firmly by the hips, and her mouth is open wide and sealed hard over her full-lipped pussy.
They stay that way for a short forever, locked together; grunting and squirming, wrestling lip-to-lip with something I can't see, but remember full well, until Ngana yells more magic into the room and finally pushes Kiijto's gaping mouth away.
They both fall to their backs and the room fills with the sound of exhaustion. I've got control over my legs again and that burning is finally out of me. My gut aches and one side feels swollen but I'm better off than I was before I got here, so I stagger my way towards Ngana to see what I can do to help.
Half way to her I stop dead in my tracks as she cries out and thrusts her hips high into the air. Her pussy lips move, then spread, and the head of a snake pushes its way out. It's black and shining, and its forked tongue flickers violently. It slither's the rest of the way out then comes straight for me and Ngana shouts again.
"Name it!"
Her command bounces uselessly off my ears. My mind is numb and I'm strangely terrified. I'm locked in place by fear of something I've only ever seen in movies. I'm held in place by its reptilian eyes and my mouth stays closed until it stops before me and rears up. It's mouth opens and long white fangs drip venom onto the wood floor. Its hood unfurls, revealing twin spots that look like eyes and I'm thinking no moving picture ever prepared me for its slithering presence.
"Name it! De name is your power!"
It rears back and somehow I know it's about to strike. It's about to sink those dripping fangs in me and I ain't gonna dodge it. It's gonna have its revenge for being ripped from its home, but I can't let that happen. I have scores to pay and whirlwinds to reap, so I yell the first thing that comes to my mind.
"Lust!"
The Cobra blinks then sways back and forth for a second, and then slides to me and up my leg. It circles my torso to the top of my shoulder then teases my ear with it's tongue before wrapping itself contently around my left arm.
"Lust" I repeat, as much to verify it has heard me, as to calm my shaking nerves. "You're name is Lust."
It brings its head to my ear and flicks its tongue into it once more, then rests its jaw on my shoulder, closes its eyes, and goes still.
User Reviews
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-01-25 10:00:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
PHENOMINAL.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2006-01-24 22:39:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-01-17 19:15:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
HOLY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GODDAMNIT.
that was fucking just... weird man, just fucking weird.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-01-04 15:58:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:31:57 (#)
Ranking: 2
Daaaaamn.
Didn't know I'd missed any of these. on to the next!
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-12-03 14:29:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Wow,
Thanks for checking out Necro, Hester.
Submitted by hester (user info) at 2005-12-03 01:54:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
woo hoo, lovin' stuff! it usually makes me a little uncomfortable. kind of like a peeping tom. not this, though. this just made me hot...
i read the first one and then immediately proceeded to read the entire necrosiac series. honestly, it took me a few days. i loved it!
i'm looking forward to the rest of this one. thanks.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-11-30 21:06:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Uh...
Dayum.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-11-30 14:53:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2005-11-30 14:42:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent installment.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2005-11-30 12:43:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
<masturbates furiously>
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-11-30 12:18:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks Benny,
I see exactly what you mean.
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-11-30 01:59:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Crikies...That was um pretty hot.
One small criticism would be that there felt like some repetition in the description of the room where you began three sentences with either "There's" or "There is". It would have flowed better if at least one of those sentences started differently or you could have shortened and combined a couple of them.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-11-30 00:33:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Hehehe. Try narrating during sex, like in that one 'Family Guy' episode. I'll bet that will help.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-11-29 23:52:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Pacing is so important.
You seem to pace quite well.
I am enjoying these.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-11-29 21:03:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
hehehe good point!
Like I said, I'm using this series to experiment with Erotica, I'm by no means a master at it.
Well, not in words anyways.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-11-29 20:56:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damnit, Snark, if I were a guy, I'd have the worst case of blue balls ever. Why? Because I was definitely very turned on... right up to the point where you said "quivering hole". Quite frankly, uhm, ewwwwwwwww.
Come on. I *know* there are better synonyms for the word 'vagina' than 'hole. It just really threw me off.
Don't you EVAH do that again, ya hear?
(I still luuuuuuuurrrve you anyway)
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:31:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Daaaaamn.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:20:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
These fucking WIN
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:11:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I just spooged all over the window here, jerk
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:05:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:00:20 (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit. Just......holy shit, man. Time to go read the others...
- - -
They're awesome. Thanks for links Snark.
Submitted by sg11588 (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:04:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like farting in bed and then pulling the sheets over my head so I can bask in the smell of my farts.
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-11-29 16:00:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit. Just......holy shit, man. Time to go read the others...
Submitted by wardy (user info) at 2005-11-29 15:56:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
look, look... now i'm not saying you killed her when you stuffed all those dollar bills down her throat. i'm not saying you killed her when you hit her over the head with the bar stool. i don't know these things, i'm not a doctor. but you know what didn't kill her? smoking.
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-11-29 15:55:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WHOA. pre-emptive snark +2
You're still here?????
This has previous installments??!?!?!?
I've been slacking hardcore in my ubering......forgive me.