Golden

This is really the first draft of something that’s rather in the vein of Neil Gaiman’s ‘Chivalry’, if not nearly so good. Expect revisions pretty soon

Rabbit.

Chinchilla.

Mink, both white and dark.

I don’t dare to look any closer at the labels than that; I don’t want to think how much these coats cost, in more ways than one.

“I’m sorry, little guys.” I can’t help it, it slips out and I hope the terrifying sales assistant looming near the fur section didn’t hear. “I’m so sorry,” I say to a chinchilla coat, under my breath this time.

Continue reading “Golden”

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Four legs then, two legs now, raging all the while

Warning; this does feature some mentions of rape.

Say what you like about gods roaming the land disguised as various things, just looking for an attractive hole in which to force a penis of truly epic proportions. But you can’t deny that rape is just as much a human pastime as a divine one.

Well, it’s true! When you capture an enemy’s women and young boys, you divide them up as spoils and then you rape them. If you stay in a house and like the look of the pretty wiggly serving girls or tender young slave boys, you rape them.  If you defeat a king and carry off his queen, you rape her. The shepherds of your flocks, when there’s no one else around to do, may seize a ewe’s back legs, thrust them into his boots and his organ into her hole, while the beast no doubts bleats and bleeds something awful.

In fact even the most elaborate ceremonies based around your matings are play rapes half the time these days, the girl carried off by the groom and guards set outside the door to make sure she doesn’t escape. Even when it’s all arranged beforehand and the one underneath is willing, to a degree, then it’s rape.

Which brings me to my ever so famous rape.

Continue reading “Four legs then, two legs now, raging all the while”

Just a little plot bunny for a thing I am doing.

We were lucky to see any sort of metal out on the plains, except for the keys around my neck. So it was all the more alarming to see a horde of riders with weak sunlight glinting off their armour and weapons, approaching from the south.

This was in the days when the gods still rode horses, of course, not flying metal fish or cloud chariots. These were the days when they still spoke to mortals without a float in their step and a boom in their voice.

At first I thought I should get my children to run for it, but I knew we wouldn’t get far if they decided to chase us. So I ordered everyone to stay where they were, waiting to see what the warriors would do and what they’d want from us.

Continue reading “Just a little plot bunny for a thing I am doing.”