The Hive of Asgard

Kayoko grabbed his head and moved it to the fountain of her left breast, from which Golden likewise imbibed. He felt a warmth suffusing through his body, and he could no longer tell where Kayoko's body ended and his began. They were, to all intents and purposes, one being.

Kayoko then stepped over Golden, who was still sitting in the Lotus Position and straddled him. She ran her fingers over his brow, his nose, his lips, and his torso.

"You must not come before I do," Katyoko whispered. "The penalty for doing will be quite severe."

Kayoko's golden milk suffused throughout Golden's brain, what little there was left of it. He felt that they were one being, that he could never leave her side, no matter how much his limited intellect wanted to, if only to preserve his own identity. Still, he was not going to report this event to the killjoy Dean of Bacchanalia, no matter what forms of degradation he was about to experience. In fact the sisters at Upsolong Omigod Gramma had taught him just how pleasant degradation could be.

Kayoko grabbed his long blond hair firmly.

"I'm going to impale myself upon your spear, my fair-haired warrior. Are you ready to withstand my lust?"

She did not give him time to answer this rhetorical question but rose up and dropped down upon his yearning, rock-hard shaft with the full force of gravity. Golden gasped at this sudden penetration. She began to rock, and Golden's fire began to rise. He grabbed her massive tits with both paws and pressed them hard against her ribcage with all his might.

Her rocking became more intense, and he feared that he could hold out no longer. He grabbed her left breast and brought it to his mouth and drank from it mightily, so that he could feel the selflessness of their union and perhaps delay his fate for a few seconds longer. Soon no manna was left in her left mammary. He performed the same rite on her right tit, almost draining it in his thirst.

He felt her belly shuddering against his abs as she came, and an ocean of manna flooded over Golden's thighs.

"Do not come. You must drink me with your cock before we can enter into nirvana of Oneness."

"How the fuck am I going to do that?" Golden muttered.

"Just trust in the All," Kayoko said. "Just give yourself to the One."

Golden released his painful grip on her hooters and tried to withhold his own orgasm, as he sought to merge with the All-Mind. He tried to drink her hot cum with the small mouth of his burning shaft, but it was futile."

"Do not even try, my Viking . If you try, you will not succeed. Only by surrendering to the All will you gain my precious juices."

Golden tried to relax and give himself over to the flow. Suddenly he felt his cock hoovering Kayoko's innermost being like a child trying to sucking the fleeing remnants of a chocolate shake though a straw. He drew the elixir up his shaft and felt its warmth as it poured back through his urethra and into his waiting balls, suffusing his entire being.

Then he too came, shooting his love deeply into Kayoko womb. She clutched his shoulder and held him against her as she came again. She collapsed into his strong arms, pressing her head against his hard chest. He stroked her Viking hair as they fell into the Nothingness that is Everything.

After holding Kayoko tightly against his chest for what seemed like hours, Golden broached the more academic aspects of their just completed encounter. "How is that even possible?" he asked his all-too-willing vertically multiracial companion.

"It is really just a simple matter of reverse peristalsis," she said. "For instance, there are many lamas in Tibet who can reverse the flow of their ki and ingest food with their anuses, bring it all the way though their digestive systems and out their mouths. It requires the utmost spiritual discipline to achieve this feat. This is achieved by reverse peristalsis, in which the bhikkhu reverses the contractions of his digestive system."

"I hope they use a lot of mouthwash," Golden said.

"Speaking of reverse peristalsis, I think I am about to blow lunch myself." Kayoko's gallant warrior confessed.

"Do not do that. You must keep my ki within your body if you want to have any chance to of fusing with the All-Mind.

"Forgive me, but I must tell you even more," Kayoko said. "There can be no secrets between us if we venture down this path. Not only can the Tibetan adepts reverse the flow of their digestive systems, they can also draw a turd into their anuses and bring up the meal that generated said turd in all its glory, steaming hot and without the peas touching the mashed potatoes or any other gauche outcomes."

"Now I'm really going to blow my lunch. How is that even possible? It defies the laws of physics. You cannot create order out of disorder. It defies the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which states that order must decrease in an isolated physical system. A highly ordered physical system like a perfectly set out Christmas dinner must evolve into a more disordered system, not the other way 'round. A broken glass will never leap from the floor and reassemble itself. In the same way, the physics sages teach us that poopies, or in Uncle Tevya's case explosive diarrhea, could never reassemble themselves into a perfectly laid out Christmas dinner."

"O yea of little faith, my golden-armed warrior, some of the highest adepts do not achieve these feats through reverse peristaltic contractions alone, which would be nothing more than a cheap parlor trick. Instead, they reverse time itself within their bodies. You see such time reversal is alimentary, my dear Watson."

"Great Gatsby, woman! This would solve the problem of world hunger and waste disposal at the same time. There would be such a thing as a free lunch, after all."

"Ah my dear Odinsson, if only it were that easy. Unfortunately, most citizens balk as the idea of chugging fresh poop into their asshole. You would be surprised at the resistance we at Black Lotus have encountered."

"No I wouldn't," Golden muttered.

"But we do have a pilot program going on at Christmas, which you would be free to participate in. The Afikomen himself volunteers at many of the area's soup kitchens over the holiday season. People send him their Noel excreta. When enough samples have been collected, they are rushed in in sealed refrigerated truck to the soup kitchen. The Afikomen then squats over the poopies like a mother bird on her eggs and ingests them one by one. When he is ready, he nods to the soup line customer, who holds up a clean plate, and bingo he regurgitates a perfectly formed, steaming hot holiday dinner right onto the proffered plate, sometimes with a cold ice cream sundae on the side and never with the potatoes touching the peas.

"Not everyone is generous enough to donate their number twos. That is why our Director of Copraphagia has to make house calls. He appeals to the better natures of the anal rentives."

"Director of Coprophagia?"

"It may be roughly translated as Director of Shiteating. It is an elected and highly regarded and vital office, although I haven't seen many people inviting the Director over for supper.

"Sometimes the Director has to clean their clocks sexually to obtain the needed fecal samples. One guy, a hayseed by the name of Clem Stolzfus, claimed that he was the seventh son of a seventh son and doubled as sin eater. He insisted on taking the sample through direct oral deposit. There is no accounting for tastes."

"There's no chance I will be elected to be the Director of Coprophagia while we are visiting your parents, is there?"

"Heavens no, sweetie. The next election is in June. But you can follow Clem on his rounds if you like."

"No that's OK. Really."

Golden was somewhat amused by the way Black Lotus had morphed the one percenters' prime directive to the poor ("Eat shit and die") into the Black Lotus's slogan of "Eat shit and live." Jesus H. Christ Himself, with all his materialized fish, wine and loaves of bread, could not hold a candle to what Black Lotus was doing right here and now.

"Goldie honey, I'm so horny and thirsty," Kayoko Lokisdottir whispered. "We have to do the square root of 4,761 right now or I'm gonna burn up.

"69," Golden recited as if he were in an eighth grade math bee. How did he know that? He was normally so bad at mental arithmetic. Context, he supposed.

The leader of the Wastewater Screaming Beavers gently lay down on his back. His lovely Japanese, Viking and possibly Jewish companion straddled his face. He felt the light touch of her pendulous breasts as they traced their way down his torso. She offered them to his mouth, one by one. He drank deeply from them, and felt the warmth and vitality of their liquid manna suffusing his body once again.

He tried to engulf the entirety of her right hooter with his mouth, but it was a fool's errand, an impossible task. Kayoko cruelly removed said mammary from his grasping mouth. He felt Kayoko's erect nipples, as her divine hooters slid down his trembling abdomen, as she wrapped the fingers of her right hand around his burning shaft and bought it to her mouth. Her tongue circumnavigated the helmet and then she teased him by closing her lips around it tightly and then popping it in and out of her thirsty mouth.

He responded to her cruelty by grabbing her head and forcing it down upon his pole as he began to pump it violently in and out of her devouring mouth. She ran her hands up and down his straining thighs. She backed up on him, sliding her soaked cunt up his torso and then over his face and nose.

She began to rock on his face, to drown it in her manna. Golden reached out for the bud of her clit and stroked it in time with the sliding movements of her face. She seized his throbbing cock and balls, using them as a saddle horn as she rode Golden's pinned and drowned face. She felt his tongue as it eagerly lapped up her wetness. She grabbed his cock tightly and slid her mouth up and down on it. Then she squeezed his balls hard and was rewarded with a fountain of hot jism that poured down her throat. At the other end of the beast with two backs, Kayoko poured her essence down Golden's throat.

Their souls and flesh were now One. There were no longer any boundaries separating them. The cruel Other that was the material world no longer chilled their flesh. They lay in silence, lost in each other, neither of them wishing to end the Oneness that bound them together, perhaps for eternity.

But there were still floating remnants of Maya, illusion, not to mention Golden's test anxiety. These elements of samsara teased them back to their unfinished task. Golden tried to reach out to grasp the Oneness, but it was just as elusive as the pigskin he fumbled in the last year's game against the Floundering Flounders in the Cornshucking Conference championship game.

Soon his mind was partially re-encapsulated within his still rambunctious body. His state was not lost on Kayoko Lokisdottir, and she gave his risen spear a playful swat, setting it into a pendulum motion not unlike the arrow on a metronome at a child's piano recital.

"We should probably get started on my tutoring," Golden said. "Once we get to Black Lotus, we may have trouble fitting enough sessions in to pass the Diffeomorphic Transformations final. Right now, I'm like Sam Cooke. Don't know nothing about topology, don't know much cohomology, but I do know that one and one is two, and if I could be with you, what a wonderful world this would be."

Kayoko pressed her fingers against Golden's lips. "Ssssh, silly. We just completed the tutoring. Want to see?"

Golden nodded his head.

"OK, my handsome jock. What is the semiotic differential of a five-valued logical conversion field?"

"That's easy. It's just the Gronkowski inverse of its image space."

"Ok, how about the pseudo-Leibnizian cover field of a superstring differential vector space?"

"That's obvious. It is the incoherent doubletalk generated by its associate professors."

A look of pure amazement came over Golden 's hitherto quasi-moronic face.

"By George, I think you've got it," she told the glowing quarterback.

"Bernard Shaw's theorem over Pygmalion operators," Golden said, unable to stop the infinity of thoughts that were rampaging through his mind.

"How can I know all this shit?" the tousled-haired Viking asked his demi-Japanese tutor.

"You briefly merged with the all-Mind while we cleaned each other's sexual clocks a moment ago," Kayoko said. " Did you not feel it? The mixing of our fluids making us one soul, one self?"

"Indeed I did, my flaxen-haired Geisha. It felt for just a moment as though my mind encompassed the soul of this universe, that I had mastery of all real and possible knowledge."

"Which will enable you pass your Diff Trans exam with flying colors. You see, we at Black Lotus exist as a single organism, a single consciousness, a World Mind. Just as a praying mantis's prospective spouse or a spider's suitor offer the apple of their eyes their very own heads for their lovers' dining pleasure, just as soldier ants offer their own lives for the protection of the colony, we at Black Lotus are what the world-famous myrmecologist Edward O. Wilson calls a superorganism, a single being composed of spatially-separated parts."

"But I already feel some of this knowledge passing away," Golden said in an epistemological panic.

"Yes, my towheaded football chucker. You will need a series of booster shots to make this knowledge permanent."

"Booster shots?" Golden asked tremulously. Despite the astronomical number of ACL repairs to which he had been subjected in the course of his athletic career, not to mention all the electroshock treatments they had given him to snap him out of his many concussions and take them like a man, the Screaming Beavers' fearless leader was not too fond of needles.

"Like this," she said, grabbing his tumescent and still throbbing rod and guiding it to the welcoming entrance to her carving yoni.

Golden could no longer remember why he had ever been afraid of booster shots.

INTO THE HIVE

For the final five miles, the road up the mountain was so bad, they had to call the Temple of the Black Lotus and request that they send down a horse-driven carriage to take them the rest of the way. Golden was not reassured when said carriage arrived and the driver was a hunchback bearing more than a passable resemblance to Marty Feldman, who told them that the caterwauling they were hearing were just "creatures of the night."

The fragile carriage bounced violently as they ascended the last five miles. It almost overturned on two separate occasions. Its very framework threatened to come apart at the seams, and Golden feared for its structural integrity. However, to be fair to Black Lotus's groundskeeping staff, most of this bouncing and pounding was due to the unbridled sexual shenanigans of our two plucky protagonists, who occupied a vehicle that was far too fragile to contain their sexual ardor.

When they finally disembarked from the rustbucket carriage on shaky legs, the driver, whose name turned out to Eeyore rather than Igor, bid them farewell.

"I bid you farewell," he said in some sort of Eastern European accent that Golden could not place. He whipped the horses into a galloping frenzy as he raced down the hill, apparently wanting to put as great a distance as he could manage between him and the Temple of the Black Lotus.

Watching the disappearing carriage, Kayoko and Golden turned around and began to climb the two hundred stone steps leading to the Temple proper.

Huffing and puffing, they arrived at the large oaken door to the temple. As Golden reached for the gigantic bronze knockers, the door was suddenly opened for them. A woman with Guinness-worthy hooters pulled the door wide open for them.

"Why, look everyone, it's Kayoko. The prodigal daughter returns," she said. "And this must be Skjold Odinsson, the gridlock hero you have told us so much about."

"It's gridiron, ma'am. But a woman with your delectable pulchritude can call me what you like. My friends call me Golden Arm or just plain Golden."

"Oooh, handsome and a charmer at the same time. Hi, I'm Freya Rabinowitz, Kayoko's mom, at your service". She curtsied, affording Golden a panoramic view of her immense mounds and a cleavage rivaling the Grand Canyon.

Many of the clan had gathered around to welcome the new visitor. Golden was loathe to shift his view away from Kayoko's mom's juggernauts, but did manage to catch a look at the assembled crowd out of the corner of his eye. However, his gaze rapidly returned to Freya's gargantuan gazongas. His Viking's lance rose, throbbing despite the consummated sexual antics in the carriage ride just minutes ago.

"I see you like your prospective mother-in-law's physique," Freya Rabinowitz told the Screaming Beavers' star pigskin slinger. You might as well go ahead and take them out, cowboy. You know you want to. Even if it might cost you my Kayoko's hand, it sure as hell won't cost you my hand," Freya said, grabbing Golden's balls and rhythmically squeezing both them and his risen shaft through his pants.

Golden knew that this was a test of fidelity that he could not fail, if he wanted to be with Kayoko. Yet resistance was futile. He slipped his hands into the cups of Freya's leather armor, and grabbed her bare Hebraic tits in his bare hands. The sensation was delightful. He thought he must be in mammary heaven.

His eyes nervously searched the crowd. He saw Kayoko nod her head, as a mischievous smile appeared on her face. This was evidently A-OK in her book.

"Take 'em both the way out and suck the shit out of them," Kayoko's buxom Jewish-Aryan mother commanded him, and he was powerless to resist. He freed Freya's magnificent mammaries completely from their leather prisons. He grabbed both of them in his large, strong quarterback's hands. He squeezed them so hard that he thought they might implode.

Again, he hastily scanned the crowd for their approval. His now dark-adapted eyes could see that they were all woman.

"Don't mind them, Golden," Freya said. "They want this as much as we do. Besides, look above you."

Looking upward, Golden saw that the entire ceiling was covered in mistletoe. An easy moral out if ever there was one. "In our family, if you meet under the mistletoe, you must fuck the living shit out of each other. Right out here in public, so that we all may share in the joy of the season."

She pulled his head down upon her right breast. "Drink me, football chucker. Drain my essence into your belly."

Golden took as much of Kayoko's mom's behemoth right tit into his mouth as he could manage. His entire visual field was soon filled by Freya Rabinowitz' delightful, luscious and creamy white skin.

Golden grabbed her font of all life with both hands as he attempted to drain her essence into his hungry body.

Freya held his head tightly against her as he gulped down her essence. She sniffed his golden locks. She smiled in exultation, taking another deep sniff of her prospective son-in-laws Viking hair.

"Ah, this one is of the true nectar. You have chosen wisely, daughter."

Kayoko gave her mother a mini-curtsy along with a faint smile of pride and some regret. She was not sure she would have Golden's body to herself ever again.

A black women, seemingly wearing the body of Serena Williams, emerged from the crowd. She smiled at him with a predator's gaze. "Hi. I'm Kayoko's cousin Watusi." She tousled his Viking locks with one hand and ripped the velcroed yellow jumpsuit clean off her own body with the other.

"Welcome to the family," she said as she strolled around behind him and laid her delectables on Golden's naked back, as Freya Lokisdottir continued to nurse her new charge.