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Tutty The Fruity
Tutty The Fruity

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Prompt: Of Man, Lamia, and Goddesses (P9)

Summary: In a parallel universe much like our own, a series of divine mishaps creature a world where lamia replace human females as the eternal partners for men. What follows is a series of vignettes of how this world evolved over time. Commissioned by downhillrabbit6.1 for the month of February 2023.

[Story Listing]

[FIRST PART]

[PREVIOUS PART]

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In 2018, a stone tablet was uncovered in Symi, a Greek island, during an archeological dig. It had taken more time to decipher, in part due to its rough, indecipherable carvings, and it remained an archival curiosity until modelling technologic could reach a point that it could identify the semblances of dirt-encrusted lettering and extrapolate into identifying the original passage. Curiously, carbon dating marked its creation during the same era as other, more famous recordings of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Researchers were astounded that it had turned out to be a secret poem, speaking of another one of Gilgamesh's affairs; this is partly because Gilgamesh was a legendary figure in Mesopotamian history, not of Grecian. Historians assume that this particular passage represents a reprisal of the legendary character, preparing an ancient form of erotica; this appraisal is met with criticism, considering the clashing historical backdrops from altogether different regions. Some circles, tongue-in-cheek, conclude that the passage is a hastily-cobbled diary entry from the mythical figure, Gilgamesh himself.

Speculation is ongoing as to the true nature of this tablet. Below are segments of the passage, translated from the tablet.

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...encountering a snake's tail that towered before my form, I attempted to raise my sword to slay it. As I climbed the scales and ascended over the iron hide, I climbed to the top of the layers and layers of scales... only to find that I had not, in fact, climbed to the top of such a foul beast. It felt as though its tail stretched off into the horizon... and in a matter of moments, the sky itself was consumed by coiling tails, surrounding my form on all sides.

As the shifting snake coils ebbed away, I found myself face to face with a strange beast, half woman, half snake, nestled in what seemed to be some royal bed chamber. She spoke with a refined, commanding tongue befitting that of an emperor as she loomed over me, beckoning to come closer. She introduced herself as Synt, and yearned for companionship in a troubling time that she was experiencing. Around her enormous form, several attendants wandered about to cater to her every need; some polishing her scales, some feeding her by hands, others massaging her bountiful breasts.

I attempted to decline, having my own quests to attend to, but it seemed as though Synt had sought me personally to attend to her needs. Despite this, I insisted on excusing myself. One lesson I learned that day, unfortunately, was that even the strongest men could find themselves at the whims of a cunning woman.

At her whispering, the air turned thick with a pink miasma, one that fogged the senses and whispered uncouth suggestions to the mind. My recollection from this point is hazy, for I was enraptured by a powerful desire to satisfy this woman's needs in only the ways a mighty king could. Though lesser humans lined up like thralls to attend to their purported queen, I cast aside all comers to ravish this woman myself. My attention was drawn to where her godly and bestial forms converged, a lone opening for me to enter her. Clutching her close in a state of undress, I brought all the strength I could down upon her.

Routinely, I would be wrested off by other warriors, in strange garbs, speaking strange tongues that I could not parse. In a serpentine lisp, Synt had admitted that she had invited the greatest warriors from all over the mortal realm to attend to her every need. I did not think much of this boast; for such great men, I had heard so few of their names. Many in strange, pattern garments, marrying armour and cloth, was a curious sight.

However, my greatness would not be usurped by so-called challengers, and what had began as a night of intimacy had developed quickly into a furious brawl of a harem, men sleek in sweat, shoving past each other to reach their goddess, their libidos heightened by that foul, pink miasma that flooded the room. Men tripped over each other to massage her breasts, her tail, to stroke her opening and reach deeper inside of her.

As the chaos reached a peak, several handservants and thralls seemed to thin in number; though many of the so-called champions of humanity were keen to fight each other over Synt's favour, the woman-beast was helping herself to her fill of mortal men, squirming human forms wriggling down her bulging neck. At her stature, the size of a temple, she had no difficulty grasping a servant within her palm and devouring it whole.

I had myself a laugh at some of my sex-addled rivals being devoured in the same manner, and continuing their struggles for domination within her slim gut, their physiques pressing against her insides. She looked the picture of a goddess of fertility after gorging on a legion of followers, their enraptured forms struggling and fighting inside of her belly, her stomach warping with so many writhing forms.

Such a fervent clash of desires, one would've anticipated the blood would flow freely. But with each strike, our finest swords would bounce off each other. And as wine, desserts, fruits, and other worldly desires flowed freely, the menfolk of the chamber laughed uproariously as they embraced the snake goddess' form, whether in her embrace or within her form itself. Our better minds, so thoroughly inebriated by good ale and better company, lost itself to a harem of boundless pleasures.

I rose above all others as champion of champion, king of kings, Gilgamesh, and threw myself into the waiting bosom of the woman who had demanded my companionship. Squeezing her mountainous nipples within each hand, I brought down upon her the might of a king. But though my cup spilleth over, her visage remained yearning for more. Alas, a king is no companion to a goddess, despite his best efforts.

As the spell wavered, the bedchamber, and Synt herself ebbed away, as if I had awoke from an intensely erotic dream. Waking up in a tent, alone to my own company, I felt as though my soul had trekked a thousand journeys in a single night. I swallowed the yawning sense of disappointment, dismay, and exhaustion, and steeled myself for another day, another adventure.

[NEXT PART]


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