Baubo Ch. 08

byCal Y. Pygia©

The streets of Sunnydale were quiet. Had Baubo known the history of the town, she'd have understood just how quiet they were. Built by Mayor Wilkins, over a century ago, as a feeding ground for him, it was situated over one of the world's several hellmouths that routinely attracted vampires, demons, and all other manner of monsters. One of these fiends had been the Feral demon whose bite had transformed Buffy into a shemale. The bite might have the same result again, at any time, since this bizarre side effect of the demon's saliva tended to recur without warning.

From what Baubo had gathered, a vengeance demon named Anyanka had dispatched a witch named Willow to the demon dimension ruled by the devil Baphomet. In doing so, Anyanka had intended to avenge herself against a suitor, Xander, who'd jilted her at the altar. Xander, it seemed, was one of Willow's best friends. The big-eyed blonde hermaphrodite, Buffy, who called herself a "vampire slayer," had come to rescue Willow. Eventually, she'd succeeded--after she and Willow, like Baubo, had been abused and humiliated by Baphomet and his minions.

As a result of Buffy's actions, Baphomet's mountain fortress had come crashing down upon them. Baubo, whom Baphomet had imprisoned centuries before to serve as his consort, had escaped certain doom when a teleporting Kekk demon had kidnapped her and jumped into this bizarre world, which, apparently, was home to Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Anyanka.

That was how Baubo had come to be here, wherever "here" was.

It was night, and the diminutive deity could not see more than dark shapes and looming shadows. She passed trees and hedges and shrubs that grew alongside concrete sidewalks and in the front yards of houses set back forty or fifty feet from the streets that paralleled the sidewalks. Occasionally, horseless chariots with huge, fiery eyes roared past. Strange beasts strained at leather leashes or chains held by the men and women who seemed to rule this world. Not once did Baubo see a fellow deity. If there were gods and goddesses in this world, they remained hidden, even to her. Perhaps, as appearances suggested, mortals really did rule in this strange world, as absurd as the idea seemed.

Baubo had left the blonde slayer and the redheaded witch behind, in the witch's abode, which seemed humble for such a powerful sorceress. Many of the domiciles that the goddess passed as she wandered the streets were much larger than the witch's, and these larger edifices stood alone, rather than as one among a row of other, identical homes. Why didn't the witch use her magic to acquire a fortune in silver, gold, and jewels? Baubo had no idea. Over the centuries, she'd learned that witches, like normal mortals, were irrational and could never be counted upon to act in predictable or logical ways. For whatever reason--perhaps for no reason--the witch seemed to prefer her hovel to a palace.

A moment before, Baubo, as a stranger in a strange land, had sought comfort in recalling the familiar incidents of her past. Before she knew it, she slipped into reverie again, remembering the time, long ago, when, exploring an island near the Greek mainland, she'd encountered one of her country's strangest inhabitants. Naturally, in doing so, she'd had sex with it. As a sex goddess, that's what Baubo did, wherever and whenever she had the opportunity.

Hercules had faced the same threat as Baubo encountered when she met the hydra. With regard to the son of Zeus and Hera, however, the hydra hadn't had sex on its mind; it had wanted only to destroy Hercules.

It had wanted to mate with Baubo. Naturally, the sex goddess had allowed it to have its way with her. The sex was some of the most memorable in which she'd ever had the pleasure--and the pain--of being a participant.

It had been the second of Hercules' twelve labors to kill the Lernean hydra, which rose from the muddy swamp waters near Lerna to terrorize the inhabitants of the local countryside. Like others of its kind, this hydra had had a serpent's body and nine heads, and it spewed deadly venom. Of the nine heads, one was immortal. Hercules' nephew--and, according to some rumors, one of his many lovers as well--had accompanied the hero on this adventure, as he did on many other occasions, serving as his uncle's charioteer. Fast by the springs of Amymone, near Lerna, they'd found the hideous monster inhabiting a cave.

To lure the beast from its den, Hercules had shot flaming arrows at it. When it emerged, he'd seized it, but the serpent-like monster had wound a coil around Hercules' foot, preventing him from escaping. Hercules had clubbed first one, and then another, of the many heads, but no sooner had he smashed one than two more would burst erupt as its replacement.

To make matters worse, the hydra had had an ally--a huge crab that repeatedly bit Hercules' trapped foot. However, the crab had been nothing more to the demigod than a painful nuisance, and Hercules had shattered its head with a single blow of his club.

As Hercules clubbed one of the hydra's heads, he directed Iolaus to cauterize the headless tendons of the creature's wounded neck with a burning torch. Having prevented the monster from growing any new heads to replace those he'd crushed, Hercules had destroyed each of the mortal heads. Finally, he'd cut off the ninth, immortal one. Burying the decapitated immortal head beside the road leading from Lerna to Elaeus, Hercules had covered the burial site with a boulder, and, slitting open the creature's body, he'd dipped his arrows in its poisoned blood.

Hercules' uncle, Eurystheus, who'd assigned the twelve labors to the hero as a means of Hercules' atoning for a murder his nephew had committed when he'd been half-mad with grief at Hera's murder of his children, was not impressed with Hercules' feat, contending that, because Iolaus had helped him, this labor should not count as one of the one of the ten labors that Hercules had, at that point, performed. Nevertheless, the killing of the hydra was allowed to stand, and, after this feat, Hercules completed his remaining two labors, stealing the golden apples guarded by the Hesperides and kidnapping the three-headed dog, Cerberus, who guarded the gateway to Hades.

The geographer and historian Pausanias had not been impressed with Hercules' slaying of the hydra any more than Eurystehus had been; in his Description of Greece, he argued, "At the source of the Amymone grows a plane tree, beneath which, they say, the hydra (water-snake) grew. I am ready to believe that this beast was superior in size to other water-snakes, and that its poison had something in it so deadly" that Hercules "treated the points of his arrows with its gall. It had, however, in my opinion, one head, and not several. It was Peisander of Camirus who, in order that the beast might appear more frightful and his poetry might be more remarkable, represented the hydra with its many heads."

The story of how Hercules had bested the Lernean hydra flashed through Baubo's mind in the same instant that she spied the terrible beast as it sprang upon her from the brush beside the steep mountain trail that she was following down to the rugged shore of the Aegean Sea. This hydra was not exactly like the one whom Hercules had slain, however--it was, Baubo thought, if anything, even more horrific. This hydra had more of a dragon's body than one that resembled a serpent's, although the body was equipped with nine heads, each at the end of a snakelike neck. In fact, the purple heads, which were acorn-shaped like the glans of a penis, bore a single vertical slit in lieu of a nose, upon either side of which was a tiny, lidless eye. As far as Baubo could determine, there was no mouth. Behind the head, at the top of the serpent-like neck, were folds of loose flesh, like those in evidence on penises from which, through circumcision, the foreskins had been removed. Had it not been for the tiny eye on either side of the slit of a nose, Baubo would have supposed the neck-head combinations to be what they appeared to be--huge penises.

Baubo had sought to flee from this terrible beast with its nine hideous penis-heads, but the damned thing was fast, and it wound one of his cock-heads around her feet, tripping her. Then, like the monster that had fought with Hercules, it trapped one of her feet with one of its head-penises so that she was unable to escape. The monster lost no time in having its way with the terrified goddess. One of its penis-heads slid between Baubo's buttocks, another insinuated itself within the cleft in her chin that was, in reality, the entrance to her cunt, and a third wormed its way past her lips, gagging her as it struggled to slide down her throat. What, if anything, could the monster see with its cock-heads swallowed, as it were, in the darkness of her innards? Baubo wondered.

Terrified, she fought desperately. At two and a half feet tall, she was much too small to accommodate the huge penis-heads of the hydra. Any one of them would tear her apart or split her wide open. However, the hydra was far stronger than she, and she realized almost at once that she could not resist the creature. This was the way, then, that she would come to an end--torn apart by a lust-crazed monster. Perhaps, upon her demise, Zeus would cast her into heaven, where she'd become a constellation, as he often did with dead deities. She closed her eyes against a flood of tears, hoping that the fierce pain would not be unbearable and that her end would come quickly. Should her fate be discovered, Zeus would punish this monster, Baubo knew, for such was her due as a goddess. However, she was also aware that the death of this creature, although welcome, would not have saved her; she would be just as dead as her attacker. A tear spilled from her eye, trickling down her cheek.

Would that Hercules had been assigned the task, today, of killing this hydra rather than having been assigned the task, in days long gone, of killing its Lernean cousin! Then, Baubo might have lived. Now, she would surely die.

The penis-heads that slid between her buttocks, into her mouth, and into her chin-cunt, adapted their respective circumferences to the sizes of the orifices they encountered, shrinking to fit Baubo's mouth, pussy, and asshole. Astonished, Baubo opened her eyes, staring down at the now-much-smaller prick-head that pumped itself back and forth between her lips. It fit snugly--she could feel it slide over her tongue, beneath the roof of her mouth, and past the walls of her inner cheeks as it poked into the opening of her esophagus--but it was not so large that it caused pain or even discomfort. Breathing through her nose, Baubo was able to accommodate the dickhead's reduced thickness. Her panic subsided. She relaxed. If she were to be ravished by this bizarre beast, she might as well enjoy it, as she had enjoyed making love to the Amazon Aegina and had enjoyed being fucked by the hermaphroditic lamia.

There was nothing the least bit feminine or androgynous about this creature, Baubo knew; it was all masculine. How could it be anything other when it had nine penis-heads? This was a creature that, quite literally, thought, if it thought at all, with the heads of its cocks.

As she was rocked by the prick-head in her mouth, the one in her cunt, and the one in her ass, Baubo began to salivate, drool running down her chin, and to lubricate--her cunt juices mingled with her saliva, wetting her chin and inner thighs. Only her poor asshole was dry. As a result, the friction of the cock-head that shoved through her sphincter and dragged its way back out before plunging into her rectum again was starting to chafe the ring of muscle and the sleek, soft flesh of her impaled buttocks. Baubo squirmed.

Fortunately, the hydra had little stamina. It reached orgasm quickly, its seed spewing into Baubo's mouth, cunt, and ass. The semen was copious, thick, and warm. The sperm that filled her mouth was also salty and a little bitter, but she swallowed it, more as a habit borne of years of experience than as the result of a conscious and deliberate decision.

The monster withdrew its cock-heads, and Baubo felt the thick, round glans slip from her flooded orifices, trail sperm across her lips, cheeks, labia, vulva, thighs, and buttocks. Although the sex had been more rape than anything else, it hadn't been as bad as Baubo had feared. Since the cock-heads had dwindled before entering her, so that they fit her mouth, cunt, and asshole, they'd been neither painful nor hazardous. She'd been filled with the monster's semen, but, at least, she hadn't been ripped or torn or split in half by its members. For her life, she was thankful, and she was grateful that, having satisfied the creature three times over, her ordeal was complete, having ended almost as quickly as it had begun.

Now, if the bastard would get the hell off her foot, she could be on her way to the nearest pool, lake, or river, to wash out her mouth, cunt, and ass, before proceeding on her way.

The hydra had other ideas, as Baubo realized when she felt the next three of its dickheads press at her orifices. She frowned, catching a glimpse of the creature's groin. Three of its necks drooped, sperm oozing from the nostril-slits between their tiny eyes. These cock-heads had been satisfied--but, in their place, two additional cocks had reared their ugly heads--now, instead of nine prick-heads, there were fifteen--the three that drooped, flaccid and satisfied, the six that she had not satisfied, and the three additional pairs that had sprung up to replace the prick-heads that she had satisfied! At this rate, with two erect prick-heads replacing each one that she satisfied, Baubo would never finish pleasing the monster. There would always be more dickheads to fuck. Even worse, the satisfied ones would recover their strength and rear their ugly heads again, demanding satisfaction; in satisfying them, still more pairs of dickheads would spring from the monster's groin. The creature's lack of stamina was more than balanced by its ability to multiply its sex organs. Baubo would be fucked forever by this same horny bastard; for the rest of eternity, she'd have to lend her mouth, cunt, and ass to this monster's lust.

Hercules had had Iolaus to assist him; Baubo had no one. How, then, could she hope to escape from--or kill--this monster?

Another threesome of the creature's prick-heads had entered Baubo, one sliding through her lips, a second through her labia, and a third through her anus. The writhing, squirming organs, having shrunk to the respective sizes of the orifices they filled, began to fuck her mouth, her cunt, and her ass.

Had she had arms, Baubo might take an additional pair of cocks in hand and masturbate them as the other three fucked her, in this way dispatching five instead of three, as it were, but she had no way to grasp the dickheads. As always, except for the counterthrusts of her cunt and ass, Baubo was condemned to play a passive role in sex. She was at this creature's mercy and, she was quite sure, the monster had none. Even if she were able to satisfy five of the cock-heads at a time, rather than three, all she'd accomplish in doing so would be to cause a greater and faster multiplication of the monster's many members! The massive prick-heads had shrunk to fit her, it was true, but the bastard might still end up fucking her to death, her immortality as a goddess notwithstanding.

Semen gushed from the cock-head in Baubo's mouth, and she tasted its salty nectar. It was, its bitterness notwithstanding, as delicious as any she'd ever sampled, but, she had the feeling that, before long, the delicious flavor would become all too vile. In sex, after all, as in all things under the sun, there could be too much of a good thing.

As Baubo walked the streets of Sunnydale, remembering her encounter with the nine cock-headed hydra, Willow Rosenberg also prowled the alleyways and lanes. However, the witch's thoughts were on the here and the now, not on incidents that had happened long ago and far away, for she was a lithe predator seeking an oblivious prey. She'd find Andrew soon enough. It was just a matter of time, whether hours or minutes, before she'd flushed him out into the open, where she could take her revenge, finally, on the last of the trio of nerds who'd killed her girlfriend Tara.

For the first time, Willow knew how Anya felt when the vengeance demon evened the scored for a spurned or jilted woman, how Anya had felt when she'd used Willow herself as a pawn to punish Xander for running out on his marriage to her. It couldn't have been pleasant to have been left at the altar, especially not for Anya. For this reason, Willow had reconsidered foregoing the pleasure of killing Anya for having dispatched her to Baphomet's demon dimension. In fact, the witch had decided to be merciful to the vengeance demon. After all, Willow could understand the need for revenge, for the thought of vengeance was deep and dark and sweet, like chocolate.

Revenge against Andrew would be delicious.

It would be better than chocolate.

. . . to be continued. . . .

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