sweetical

[sweetical]

Spic N' Span

Canada cleans the house in Prussia's absence, all the while considering their complicated relationship.

Trigger Warning / Spoilers : \\abuse | self-harm | rape hinted \\

Gilbert always expected his house to be neat and tidy, with everything in the right place but damn if he considered himself the one responsible to keep it that way. He was much too busy, he said, putting going out and working hard to put food on the table, to keep the roof over their heads apparently struggling with every workday and yet he still managed to indulge in something he liked, such as workout machine that he had used exactly once before going back to his dumbbells.

Gilbert had told Matthew that if he even thought about touching the machine, he himself was a dumbbell and was asking to have one thrown at his head. Matthew knew that Gilbert had not only the strength to physically do so but also the tenacity to actually go through with it. The only time his fingers grazed over the cushioned seat was now, as he ran dry cloth along its surface to get rid of the dust.

Gilbert deserved those kind of things. He worked hard, he played hard. Matthew on the other hand, did nothing. Nothing but sit in his room waiting for Gilbert to come home. Not that there was anything wrong with staying in the house, but if Gilbert was out busting his chops the least Matthew could do was spend his time keeping the house clean instead of wasting his time writing little stories.

Gilbert never understood the purpose of that. Yeah, its cool to have a hobby, he had said, opening his journal and scribbling a few doodles in it for the 15th time that day. But if you’re going to spend all your time doing something and not even earn any money, whats the damn point. Be happy, yeah, but be damn useful. He snapped his journal shut in Matthews face poignantly, smirking before punching him lightly on the shoulder.

Gilbert. Gilbert. Gilbert. Gilbert.

Matthew wondered for a moment, how odd their relationship felt now. How queer, stilted and slightly uncomfortable it was to think about himself. Sure, selfish was something he was being. Logically, something was not wrong. So weird. So dumb. So, well useless to still, in the words of Gilbert, be so self absorbed when a relationship was supposed to be effort compiled by a team.

Gilbert had a point. It made sense to not be selfish and to indeed help out around the house. Matthew pulled at the rag between his hands. Why was it that, when he thought of himself first his brain was a jumbled catastrophe but when Gilbert was first everything was neat, concise, systematic and purposeful. First, Second, Third. Matthew, despite his name, hated math and it seemed even now he couldn’t grasp his mind around the concept of inequalities in both mathematics and sociopaths.

He brought his rag over to the sink, turning on the water, a thin dribble to rinse off the dirt. Every time Gilbert came home he would complain of the house smelling awful despite the fact that Matthew seemed to think that it smelled perfectly fine. Of course Matthew wouldn’t notice such a thing since, according to Gilbert, he was perfectly fine smelling like moose shit half the time. A prompt wrist grab and shove into the tub and before Matthew even knew it Gilbert was giggling and scrubbing him all over with a poofy loofah, hard and rough to make sure he ex-foliated the build up of filth. Since Matthew was such a dirty boy.

The sudden chill on Matthew’s hand made him return his focus to rinsing the rag, trying to ignore the frozen sensation that traveled down his spine. It wasn’t working. He turned the faucet for the hot water as much as he could and the water gushed out, splattering on the metal of the sink and bouncing up, wetting Matthew’s shirt. It wasn’t hot enough and Matthew didn’t want to wait for it to heat up.

Another thought occurred to him. What was he thinking?! Cleaning with that rag after only a rinse. It needed to be sanitized, all the germs disintegrated. He grabbed a cup and let it fill with water, turning off the faucet and stuffing the rag into the cup. Throwing open the microwave door he shoved the cup inside and pressed the button. A low hum was made as it turned on the dish, the numbers counting down.

Matthew could hear Gilbert’s voice in his head the first time he had simply did some light cleaning. How idiotic he was to spread germs around the house. If Gilbert got sick, how were they going to get money for food, how were they going to live? Matthew stared at the microwave and thought about how it wouldn’t work when the door was open. He considered the possibility of cutting a hole at the bottom and putting his head through the hole. It was so dark inside those microwaves, until you plugged them in and punched the numbers. Then it would light up and Matthew would be able to finally see.

His first thought was how much a bother it would be to clean up the mess.

Ding.

Rushing forward he grabbed the cup turned it over in the sink. The rag was nice and steamy, surely everything bad was dead now. Grabbing a jug of pine smelling cleaner, he dumped a heap over the rag so that the stench of clean lingered in the air and tore at his eyes, grabbing at his lungs. On went the water again for a brief moment and Matthew hurriedly ran the rag over the kitchen counter, back and forth back and forth. Down onto the bottom cupboards. Circular motions, scrub scrub scrub the dirt.

The rag was far too wet and droplets of the water/cleaner mixture splattered everywhere, on the floor, in Matthews hair and there was still so much. Not clean enough it didn’t look clean enough. He went back to the sink and poured soap on the rag, wetting it again.

He was lazy. Gilbert said. Always cutting corners and trying to just do whatever was fastest. Matthew reached his rag up to try to scrub at the upper cabinets, his shoulder aching and the tips of his toes struggling to support his weight. His hands were starting to feel warm and hot from how concentrated the cleaner was, but that was good. Clean Clean. Clean house.

Matthew moved in a frenzy, doing both sides of the doors, practically punching the cloth and carving the first layer of wood away as he scrubbed. His heart was beating faster. Why had he waited so long. Why was he such a fool. Why did the nightmares assault him that made him refuse to go to bed at night and wake up this late.

Gilbert could come home and walk into the doorway. Chastise Matthew for only starting when he was coming home. Berate him for being so lazy. Shove the bristle end of a broomstick in his mouth so he could taste the shameful taste of disappointment that he had instilled in Gilbert. What a worthless man he was. Worthless. Dirty, Useless. Filthy.

Matthew collapsed.

His arm ached from scrubbing so hard, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, the fumes of the disinfectant making him feel dizzy and he had taken a step onto the slippery floor and slipped forward, knocking face first into the kitchen counter in the process.

He laid there on the floor, too tired and in agony to even move. Everything was so blurry and Matthew could see his glasses just before him, broken neatly in two across the bridge. There were odd red specks across the frames, as though little rose petals had dotted their surface in between Matthew’s fall. Then he realized.

It was his blood.

The fall had had him smash right into the edge of the counter and Matthew had no doubt that he probably had a big gash right in between the eyebrows. Gilbert would say he was so clumsy, so stupid to do fall like that, something that could have been prevented if he kept the house clean on a daily basis in the first place.

Matthew thought; “Fuck Gilbert.”

Matthew was lying in a puddle of disinfectant. The pungent smell making it feel as though he had crash landed in a pine forest after a rainfall. It didn’t matter. Matthew was already clean. He could take a shower on his own, go into the bathroom and take care of himself without having someone intently watch him to “make sure he got into the crevices” He was spotless.

Matthew found himself trying to write a poem in his head, something to express his feelings about his situation at the moment as the blood started to stream down one side of his nose and take a path down towards his lips. He always found himself struck the hardest by the muses when it was impossible to create at the moment.

Matthew shook his head, the blood dripping off his skin and landing on the floor. His hands were red, skin peeling from the overly concentrated solution, fingertips wrinkled from having so much contact with the water. It hurt to move them, but at the same time, it hurt not to move them. He wanted so much to close his hands around something and move them over and over again.

He reached out, and brought himself up with great difficulty to stand, staring blearily at the sink and feeling around until he closed his hand around something that felt so nice, with bumps conformed for his fingers. Classic comfort and a smooth weight as he pulled the knife from the rack. The sound of a door being slammed open echoed through the house, followed by Gilbert’s announcement of arrival. Matthew turned around, panting softly.

This was going to be such a pain to clean up. 

[sweetical]

France x England: Ambivalence

Arthur wasn’t sure what he liked better, the dark foggy days or the warm cloudless sunshine. There always seem to be a conflict of interest between his emotions and the environment, feeling warm and happy when the sky was dark and relatively moody otherwise. Perhaps it was an allusion to his relationship with Francis.

Anxiety attacked Arthur when they weren’t fighting about something. Fighting meant that they were being completely honest with one another. Silence stood for secrets.

The day was bright and warm and Francis hadn’t said a word, which was worrying Arthur. He lifted his head up from Francis’s chest and scowled. “Have you heard of a shower? Cologne doesn’t mask everything you know!” he said bitterly.

Francis blinked in surprise but didn’t take the bait, instead petting Arthur’s head gently. Arthur became even angrier. “What’s the matter with you!?” he exclaimed, rearing back and away from the touch, despite how comforting it was.

“And I suppose there’s nothing wrong with you?” huffed Francis, annoyed now by Arthur’s atrocious actions. “Why don’t you just relax!”

“How can anyone relax with you around?!” barked Arther, feeling uneasy. “Well, out with it then! What is it about me that’s bothering you so much!” Francis looked confused, but Arthur continued. “Don’t give me that innocent look, you’re hiding something and I don’t believe I appreciate that at all!”

Sighing, Francis raised his fist and rubbed at his eye. “I was asleep, you insecure imbecile.”

That actually made a lot of sense. Arthur flushed a dark red and lowered his gaze, gritting his teeth. “My- apologies.” He said, feeling like a fool. Trying not to make a big fuss about it, he returned to his position and rested his head on Francis’s chest again, closing his eyes. Francis’s tut tutted as he stroked England’s hair again.

“You know, sometimes you act like such a cranky little kitten. It’s so cute.”

[sweetical]

America x Canada : Cooking

���Dude, is this seriously all you eat?” asked Alfred, staring into Matthew’s refrigerator, which only held a jug of maple syrup and a bag of milk.

“Of course not.” Said Matthew. “Sometimes I go foraging and make a delicious maple leaf salad.” He said, beaming with pride. Alfred seemed less than impressed.

“I come all the way up here to freeze my balls off with you for the weekend and now you’re going to starve me too?!” he exclaimed, shuffling through the cupboards to see if the Canadian had anything else to eat. Matthew cooed, approaching to try to comfort his brother.

“Come on, it’s not so bad, I can make you a really nice maple milk tea…” he said sweetly, hugging Alfred.

“I’d thought maybe you’d have a mooseburger or something like that!” fumed Alfred, sighing and hugging Matthew back. “I’m totally not using any lube tonight, you asshole.”

[sweetical]

Spamano Salsa

Spamano prompt "dancing" for ask-teto-cat

“You LIED to me Spain. You said we were going to make Salsa!” whined Romano with a scowl, his eyebrows twitching in fury.

“I said we were going to do Salsa, Romanito.” Said Spain patiently, smiling and pressing a button on a boombox. Latin music filled the room and Romano held his head in agony.

“You’re music is shit just like you, lyin bastard.” He growled, still bitter about there being no salsa.

“Alright, we’ll see Romano.” said Spain. Grudgingly, Romano held out his hand, looking away. With an eager grin, Spain took Romano, quickly spinning him and pulling him into his embrace as though he were a human yo-yo.

“What the he-” started Romano before Spain silenced him with a smooch on the cheek. Spain pulled back and Romano was speechless for a bit, staring at Spain, his cheeks turning a tinge of pink.

Then Romano smacked him. 

[sweetical]

Prussia and Canada : Hats

Super awesome prompt from the fabulous straightasacurlyfry

“When are you going to take off that helmet?” asked Matthew, reaching for Gilbert to try to unhook the straps. Hissing, Gilbert slapped his hands away.

“SSH. I’m hiding my true identity before the fans try to get tons of autographs from me!” growled Gilbert, pulling the helmet down ever further. Rubbing his hand and feeling hurt, Matthew tried his best to convince Gilbert that he was hallucinating again.

“But there’s no one around here other than you and me…” said Matthew weakly, “Are you mad at me?

The question took Gilbert a little by surprise. He turned around and frowned, putting his hands on his hips. All Matthew could see was his pout. “You honor me the great and awesome Prussia! Why would I be mad at you?” he asked.

Canada leaned forward and shoved Prussia’s helmet down to cover his mouth, kissing him on the forehead. “That’s why.”

[sweetical]

Prussia and Canada Cuddling

Prussia and Canada cuddling request from blood-orange-handed

“Ah yes! This is why life exists, so I can spend another day being totally awesome!” exclaimed Gilbert, leaning back in a cozy chair with a lazy coo.

“There’s plenty of other reasons for living you know…” said Matthew softly, folding his arms and shaking his head at Gilbert. Finding this statement to be extremely hard to believe, Gilbert leaned forward to challenge Matthew.

“Yeah, okay maybe, but I’m the most important reason period! Case closed!” he said, throwing himself back into the chair. Matthew pouted.

“Well then.” He said, wiggling a little anxiously. “I guess…that’s fine then.” Said Matthew with a sigh, turning on his heel to leave

Suddenly, Matthew found himself being grabbed and held tightly, cuddled snugly on Gilbert’s lap. The smug boy grinned at Matthew eyes shining brightly. “You see? What’s the point of life if you can’t have me? You’re the luckiest one alive.”

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Chapter 5

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

Returning to the misfortunes of little Yugi, Dawn opened her sleepy, bright, eyes and began to cast a glow upon the scene. They had been walking for most of the night, the moon bearing witness to the dreary exodus that Yugi and the guards were embarking upon. It was absolute torture. Yugi's body shook with hunger, anger, cold and worst of all, thirst. Her tongue was like a cotton ball in her mouth, thick and dry. Her stomach felt as though it had been twisted into a knot. Yugi dragged her feet along the sand as the rope tugged her along by the neck. How she wished that she had sharp enough teeth to chew it off and run away. She longed to have enough strength to wrap this rope around the throat of her captors and squeeze until they passed out.Seeing the warm colors of the sun start to fill the sky, Yugi winced and closed her eyes. 'Ra.' she thought. 'God of the sun, bear witness to the turmoil I'm in and smite these evil men. Please, allow me to go back home.' Yugi's stomach churned as the flash of fire returned to her mind. The fact that she knew nothing of the fate of her friends or grandfather made her feel sick. '...please let there be a home for me to return to. '

Feeling the heat on her skin, Yugi finally sank to her knees with a faint gasp. She could no longer continue without some form of sustenance to keep her going. She barely had any saliva left and her throat felt as though it had been ground into dust. Her tongue flopped out as she panted. A dark leg appeared before her and Yugi swallowed with difficulty, looking up with a defiant glare. "Get up." said the guard sharply.

Yugi licked her lips, shuddering with rage as she touched the rope around her neck and stared into the guard's face. "I said, Get up!" he yelled, kicking Yugi sharply in the side of her rib. She grunted and dug her fingers into the gritty sand, feeling a burning sensation spread from the blow. Struggling to find the strength to life herself up again, Yugi was kicked again in the same exact spot. She thought she was going to be blinded from the sudden agony. "Stop!" she cried, rolling over onto her back and gasping, holding her side. "Stop it!"

Yugi felt the air escape her lungs when she felt the rope around her neck being pulled suddenly, the guard wrapping the length of it around his hand and pressing his foreheads to hers. Yugi thought she was going to be suffocated not by the pressure on her throat, but by the stench of the other's breath in her face. She coughed miserably, closing her eyes and trying to hold her breath. "Get up, you nasty little whore." he whispered, flecks of spit flying out of his mouth and showering Yugi's face. "Get up right now."

Yugi quivered in disgust and wished that she could simply spit right into the guard's eye. She breathed hard and sniffed, wrinkling her nose and sneering at the guard. "I...need water." rasped Yugi, her eyes going down to the flask adorned on the guard's side. She reached for it, heart pounding painfully in her chest.

Realizing what Yugi was trying to do, the guard pulled away, laughing at her misfortune as he removed the flask and took the opportunity to drain it right in front of Yugi. He hovered the bottle above his mouth, so that Yugi could watch the clear, cool liquid dribble down into the guard's greedy mouth. He took a deep, refreshed exhale of relief before grinning at her, turning the flask upside down to let the remaining droplets of water drop to the sand in front of Yugi. "Looks like that was the last of it." he said nastily. "You'll have to wait until we get to the village, there's a well there."

Yugi had felt her anger mount to a breaking point upon being taunted. Her mind buzzed with violent ideas, all of which she knew would only end up with her on the losing side in reality. She grit her teeth, angry that she had fallen from grace. Her power as top prostitute meant nothing among these men. Yugi scolded herself once more. What on earth was she thinking? Powerless? That wasn't an adjective that fit Yugi at all. She smirked in her mind, realizing that in her brief fit of sulking, she had found a solution to her dilemma.

Granted, this option wouldn't leave her ego without a wound, but what use was pride if death was near? A wave of self hatred washed over Yugi for a brief moment, but she pushed it aside. "Please..." she crooned softly, a hint of seduction in her voice as she leaned forward and gently placed her hand on the guard's crotch. "I can't last that long..." It was a critical, unexpected move that forced all of the guard's aggression away. He looked stunned and thoroughly conflicted. The guard to to his companion on the horse quizically.

"Uhm..."

A sigh escaped the guard on the horse. "So long as you do it quickly." he said, looking at the sky as he tried to check the time.

The guard looked back at Yugi and smirked, petting her head gently. "You're thirsty...aren't you?" he purred. Yugi played along with the man's power game, nodding and batting at the cloth on his privates as though she didn't know how to remove them. She looked up at the guard with a pitiful stare, like a cat waiting to be fed. He laughed softly, completely fooled. "No wonder you were the damn best. " With that, he undid the fold on his cloth and pulled it away so that Yugi could have access.

Yugi wanted to cry. Not because of her situation, she had been in this position multiple times before, but because no matter how many dirty cocks you were confronted with, the stench could still retain enough power to make your eyes burn. She winced, tearing up a little. As though she had any more water in her body to spare. 'How ridiculous' Yugi thought, as she touched the side of his cock with a shaking hand. 'Is it really that uncommon to at least wipe here now and then?' The texture of unwashed genitalia was not foreign to Yugi, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. 'Ra, please help me do this quickly.' she begged of the god. Yugi leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to the slit of his cock to slide it around. A vicious shudder of disgust ran through her body as she tasted old urine.

The guard couldn't help but let out a stiff groan in approval at the skilled prostitute's techniques. He grabbed the back of Yugi's head and she steeled herself for what she knew he was going to eventually do. She could feel his nails digging into her scalp, his calloused fingers entangled within her hair. She wrapped her hands around his rod, gracefully sliding and massaging her finger along the crevices, moving her hands as though she were playing a harp. Yugi was using her whole arsenal of techniques to get this man to cum as quickly as possible. She only prayed that it would be worth it.

With a loud moan that was purely for show, she lowered her mouth down and took the rest of his now hard shaft into her mouth. What Yugi really wanted to do was vomit all over the guard. He tasted foul and she could feel his swollen cock pulse eagerly with every passing second. She used her tongue along the underside, sucking and massaging while she bobbed her head forward and back to glide her lips along. Yugi was in hell. She would gladly eat dirt in order to clean her mouth after this ordeal.

Air escaped her body and for a moment, she was sure that she was going to die. A quick moment to recollect herself and Yugi managed to get her breathing right again. The guard had slammed her head forward so that the entirety of his rod was within her mouth. She was deep throating him now. Inhaling hard through her nose, Yugi looked up to glare at the guard before resuming her mission and still continuing to suck, lick and nibble until she earned her prize.

Overwhelmed by Yugi's skill, the guard gave a deep groan and pulled back a bit, shuddering as he felt his pleasure reach a peak. Yugi took this moment to dive down and collect the cum, enjoying the moisture that began to fill her mouth. She couldn't care less about the taste anymore. This was purely a matter of survival. Yugi swallowed a first batch and felt a rush of courage stream through her being. No longer did she have even a hint of meek helplessness. While her fiery spirit should have been doused, she felt it blaze like an inferno within her.

Suddenly, Yugi felt her head being pulled back and a majority of the guard's semen splattered all over her face. It stuck to her cheek, nose and even caught her in the eye. She hissed bitterly and recoiled, trying to rub it off. All Yugi managed to do was smear it into her skin as though it were a cream. Murder was in her mind as she wiped the spunk off and scowled at the guard. He smiled at her tauntingly.

"What? Eheheh...Don't look at me so ungratefully, I complimented you with a cleansing bath. Now come along whore. We've dawdled enough already." he said, pulling the rope around Yugi's neck to get her to move.

Lifting herself to her feet, Yugi smirked bitterly at him. "Tch. Maybe I'm a whore, but I've made more money in a day than you'll make in a lifetime. Isn't that right?" she spat. Turning tail on the guard and walking forward. The guard on the horse laughed at the other's expense. He grumbled nastily and secured his cloth again.

"Just shut up and move it." he snapped.

Yugi smiled thinly as she continued her voyage to meet her fate. She would never relent and become something that she was not. No matter what these awful men said or did, or whatever other obstacles the gods threw in her place, Yugi wouldn't give up. She had to stoop to such a low deed to survive and on top of that, it had hardly been worth it. Even so, Yugi felt much more confident that she would be able to wait until they got to the village for a drink of actual water. She sighed, looking up and squinting into the sun , wondering how far it was. Off in the distance, a cock crowed and Yugi took it to be a sign of honor for her victory.

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Chapter 4

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

As ironic as it sounds, it was the silence that awoke me. It was far too still for sleep. Tradition for me had been to fall asleep to the sound of hustle and bustle escaping from the kitchen as they rushed to prepare the meals for the following day, but not even a gnat flew in the room. It was a silence as absolute as death.

Yawning, I turned over in bed and felt my body sink into sheets that felt as smooth as liquid, hugging my form with care. I gave a satisfied moan at the feel of the cool, soft blankets caressing my naked curves. It almost felt as though the stress in my bones were being sucked away from my body. My contours were lovingly held with the softness that a rare fluffy little cloud may have had. For a brief moment, I wondered if I was finally in the afterlife and had been blessed with luxurious possessions once again.

All of the sudden, a deep sense of longing and sadness started as a seed in my stomach and began to bud. Despite my attempt to make a sacrifice to the goddess Hathor in exchange for a friend, she had deemed it necessary to simply take me from the world. Was my life so hopeless that it would have been more productive to take it away as opposed to providing me with a companion? If that was the case, my existence must have been so horrid and dismal that no one deserved to be around me and risk having their dignity destroyed.

My emotions took a turn for the worse as I thought of nothing but reasons of why I deserved to die. I had been so foolish and stupid. Maybe I was wrong when I thought that this was actually a happy afterlife. Perhaps Ammut, devourer of the sinful souls, had merely granted my being one last blessing before he would begin tearing apart my body with glee. I could just anticipate being torn limb from limb and being licked until my skin was worn away to reveal muscle, then that too was sucked and slurped until even the marrow of my bones had been sucked dry. Then again, I probably wasn't even filling enough to substitute as a measly snack. The role of an after dinner mint seemed to be more appropriate for me. Swallowed whole, I would fall and fall until I melted in a pit of acid.

I held my breath and shook as my anxious thoughts threatened to consume me. But when I felt no teeth grazing my knees, nor tongue tasting my toes, I decided to relax and opened my eyes to take in my surroundings. Almost instantly I closed them and knew exactly where I was. After nearly being blinded from the reflection of the gold that seemed to fill every square foot of the room, I knew that I had not died, but that I was merely in the Pharaoh's Chambers. Although I was thoroughly befuddled by my being here, the sound of murmuring caught my attention before I could ponder it for too long.

Turning my head to the source of the noise, I realized that the sound was coming from the door that led downstairs to my bedroom, or to get technical, my cell. Aside from the mice, who had any business snooping around down there? I blearily tried to recall what had happened before I had lost track of my mind. The last thing I seemed to remember was smoke filling my room and everything had seemed to fade away in that moment. I flushed darkly in embarrassment. Stupid. It was never my intention to kill myself, but I had nearly done so. There was no ventilation in my room and I was simply asking to be suffocated. Then again, there was no use sobbing over a robbed tomb. Sliding the blankets aside carefully, I slid out of bed and slowly crept across the room, my footsteps muffled as I threaded on the carpet.

"Why would she do such a thing!" boomed a voice from downstairs that made me jump in surprise. It was Atemu. I shrank back in fear at his words, as though they would fly up the stairs and beat me. I had a feeling that I knew exactly what it was that had made him so angry. Even though my stomach churned and my frame rattled with my nerves, I knelt by the door in order to eavesdrop on the conversation going on down in my room. His next words confirmed my prediction.

"I've done my best to give her a comfortable life, Solomon. Even under these circumstances that tradition forces me to undergo." he continued, exhaling.

"The important thing is, Pharaoh." said Solomon, who was the Pharaoh's esteemed advisor. "That she has survived this encounter, and she owes her life to you.

I swallowed and closed my eyes. Atemu had concluded that I had tried to kill myself. Which of course, was far from the truth. I had occasionally fantasized about not waking up of course, but I never had the courage to even ponder about how I would go about ending my existence. Not to mention the fact that suicide was a sin that was severely frowned upon in the life beyond. What purpose would I have to leave this for an eternity of suffering for not having the patience to withstand my fate?

"Owes her life to me." repeated Atemu, snorting as though the matter amused him. "Solomon, if it is anyone who owes their life, it is mine to Ryou."

Solomon sputtered and I shared his sentiments. I leaned closer in wonder, amazed by what Atemu was implying. I was flattered of course, but upon thinking hard I could not imagine why the Pharaoh would be in debt to me of all people. Clearing his throat, Solomon quickly regained his composure. "Forgive me Pharaoh but, may you explain yourself further as to why you have these feelings?" he asked.

"Have you taken a good luck at her Solomon?" said Atemu indignantly, as though irritated that he had been asked such a foolish question. "She's a mess. Honestly, if she's supposed to be a, what do you call it again? Concubine of mine, she shouldn't be such a nervous wreck. She even cried on me yesterday. At first I thought it was urine, but upon closer inspection, I suspected that she had become so distressed she managed to spill tears from down below. How else can you explain such a thing? Perhaps if I adjusted the schedule, so that it isn't merely a mechanical duty she must perform every night, she would become much more comfortable."

My face felt hot with shame and I looked down to examine myself. I had been so sure that I had in fact gone to the bathroom on Atemu's leg that I had never considered any other options. Was it even possible to cry from that area? Was it tears that Atemu spilled in my mouth on the nights I had actually succeeded in having him reach his peak. The idea seemed preposterous, but if I didn't actually pee on the Pharoah's leg, that made me feel much better. Atemu was right about me being a wreck. The stress of having to deal with being treated so poorly never truly dissipates, but merely hides in the hole within me before popping out and reminding me about how worthless I was.

Solomon gave a weary groan. "We discuss this nearly every week. You cannot simply choose to have Ryou flaunt whatever she must do simply because you believe that she is not doing well."

"And why not?" asked Atemu sharply, almost as soon as Solomon had finished his sentence. "If I am the Pharaoh, why is it that my orders are for some reason any less absolute when it comes to my own servants?" His tone softened then and he seemed to plead with Solomon. "Please Solomon, I don't get very upset often, this tradition is unnecessary and obviously does more harm than good."

I was ecstatic, but tried my hardest to avoid having any expectations about what was to come. Still, my heart pounded in my chest and a feeling of elation swelled within me. Atemu was kind. Raunchy yes at times, but he was far from cruel. He had never struck me, in fact the most he had ever done was push me away due to my lack of skill. My mind wandered to yesterday's scene. He had behaved so differently. It was a scary change at first, but it hadn't felt very bad at all. In fact, I would have dared to say that I enjoyed myself. At least, until the shame settled in. At the moment, my anxiety level was at an odd mix of rocketing skyward and melting away completely.

There was a stretch of silence that seemed to go on for hours. At last, Solomon sighed, exasperated. "Fine...You may adjust Ryou's schedule to your own convenience if it will make you happy." he agreed.

A hearty triumphant laugh escaped Atemu and I heard a whoomf, as though he had slapped Solomon on the back in good nature. "Splendid!" he cheered, his voice slowly becoming harder to hear. "Now then let me further explain..." Suddenly, his words were inaudible. It seemed as though he had started walking away.

Seeing that I no longer had any reason to sit here and listen to the beetles crawl the walls, I walked back to the bed and threw myself back onto the covers. As soon as my back hit the soft mattress it cracked with a satisfying sound and I groaned in satisfaction. All I wanted to do was sleep. My head was pounding, a flood of thoughts and questions sloshing around in a huge tremor. I panted softly as I tried to focus on one particular subject to no avail and I merely rolled about in the bed, feeling the sheets rub and grind against my naked body.

A brief wave of jealously passed over me as I snuggled into the covers. I recalled my bed being this nice. Until they took everything nice about it and shoved it down into a musty little cage so that I was nothing more than a little mouse for the Pharaoh's amusement. My skin crawled in resentment but then I relaxed again. Atemu had never approved of the way I had been treated. Being reminded that he wasn't a tyrant soothed my nerves and I sighed. Perhaps life would change for me now.

All of the sudden, I was slapped with a lovely aroma and was consequently enamored by the scent. My belly rumbled and I recalled that I hadn't had much to eat the previous day. The last thing I had consumed had been a pitiful breakfast of bread and cheese and that was an entire sun cycle into the past. I inhaled delicately, my skin prickling in excitement. It seemed ages since I had smelled something so delicious. My mouth watered in anticipation and I shifted nervously in bed, biting my lip and whimpering like a dying dog as my stomach made clear it's furious desire to be filled.

"My My," chuckled the Pharaoh upon entering the room. "Seems as though I arrived just in time."

My body stiffened in surprise and I felt a shiver pass through me. I wasn't altogether sure whether I should stir or be still. I ultimately decided to feign a sleepy moan, turning over in bed with a slow, dramatic air. It was probably best to pretend that I had only just woken up and give off a sense that I was naive to what Atemu had discussed with Solomon down in my bedroom.

"Mmm, What...What happened?" I asked, touching the back of my hand to my forehead, as though I had a fever.

The Pharaoh fell for it, for he too touched his hand to my forehead, considering me for a moment. I looked up into his eyes before quickly turning my gaze down before he would see me as being disrespectful. Was he truly this concerned about my well-being? Even after listening to him talk, I still had my doubts about just how sincere he was. I refused to let down my guard and allow myself to be consumed with what could just be a trap.

I then discovered the source of the delicious smell and, looking down, found a large platter of food held in Atemu's hand. He set it down slowly next to me on the bed and I sat up eagerly, every muscle in my body wanting to pounce upon it like a wild, starving dog. It looked so beautiful. Wheat cakes glistening with butter, soft rolls of bread among thin strips of fried meat. I swallowed hard, so as to not drench the sheets with my saliva.

Atemu seemed to notice my distress and smiled, gesturing to the meal. "I brought some breakfast for the two of us. You wouldn't mind eating with me would you?" he asked. I couldn't help but mirror his childish grin as I shook my head in response to the question. Desperate and hungry, I reached out with my bare hand to grab one of those fluffy rolls, when I suddenly found my wrist caught in a vice like grip just as my fingertips brushed against the bread

I looked up, glowering at Atemu. His smile only grew wider, failing to waver despite my disgusted look. Rage was starting to mount within me again. How dare he make such a kind offer only to tease me like this for his own amusement! To my dismay, he slowly started pulling the plate of food out of my reach. "I'll give you some food." said Atemu. "If you tell me what happened last night."

There was always a price that I could not pay. I stiffened, feeling my anger freeze over. Worry flooded my body and I nibbled my lip, trying to think of how to respond. I didn't want to say anything at all. They were personal matters, trivial concerns at best and I didn't want to get into even more trouble for admitting my foolishness.

"Forgive me." I said softly, turning away from him. "I cannot speak of the actions I've preformed yesterday. They are far too shameful to speak of. I've brought dishonor upon you and your palace for behaving that way and I can assure you that it will never happen again." With a huff, I looked back at Atemu and then looked away , folding my arms and keeping my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was to tell Atemu how I had managed to insult and have a temper tantrum with one of his best priests.

"Oh." said Atemu simply, seeming neither disappointed nor concerned with what I said. For a moment my hopes rose, and I thought that the explanation would be enough for him. Trying to lean forward to grab the food then, he pushed it away further and chuckled in amusement. My arm shook and I wanted to do nothing more than to punch the Pharaoh for teasing me like this. "Simply tell me why I had to find you nearly dead in your room. Then I'll allow you to eat. "

I bit my lip once again and shook my head. If I wasn't going to tell Atemu about my spat with Ishizu, why on earth would I reveal to him the personal conflict that I had with myself that had led me to turn to the gods for assistance. "That is a private matter." I said.

Atemu sighed and shrugged. "My my, I guess it can't be helped then, if you do not wish to speak." For a moment, I thought he was going to let me off the hook and finally leave me be. But to my alarm, he picked up a fork and cut a piece of the wheat cake, putting it into his mouth. I couldn't help but stare, jealousy mounting within me. My body quivered at his overly dramatic moan. "It's really such a waste, but I suppose that means the joy of partaking in these, delicious, delectable and scrumptious cakes belongs soley to me."

Did he have no mercy? My voice cracked for a moment and I had to swallow in order to clear my parched throat so that I could speak. "I-I'll talk..." I whimpered. Atemu had won the battle. He smiled and put down the fork to look at me in interest, eagerly waiting to hear what I had to say. I wished that he wouldn't be so ridiculously nosy into my affairs.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself to explain what had happened. I took a lock of hair into my hands and played with it nervously, curling and unraveling it around one finger. "I wasn't thinking clearly, alright? I simply wanted to make a sacrifice in my prayer to one of the gods." Atemu's expression turned grave and I panicked, realizing that my choice of words made it sound as though the sacrifice was my life.

"No, no!" I exclaimed, recoiling and looking into Atemu's eyes and balling up the sheets in my fist. "I used my hair! My- Look, I just ripped it right out!" I said hysterically, turning my back to Atemu so he could see my mangled mane. "Then so much smoke came up in the fire...and I don't recall anything else after that. I think I lost my breath." I said quickly, taking a deep breath of air after that and licking my lips. I had been staring at Atemu's face for far too long. Such an act was inconceivable for a servant. I averted my eyes to the food and, unable to stand tantalizing myself with what I likely wouldn't have, looked back at him.

Atemu stared back at me, not even mentioning the fact that I was pushing the boundaries between whore and man. Uncertainty and a sense of discomfort mounted within me. It felt as though Atemu was searching my soul with those piercing violet eyes, even without the assistance of the other millennium items. I was telling the complete and honest truth, and yet I couldn't help feeling squeamish.

After a few strained moments, Atemu graced me with a gentle smile and brought the plate towards me, brushing my hair down with his hand. "That's all I needed to know. It wasn't that hard to say now was it? You may eat now."

I was ecstatic and couldn't help deflating as a relieved giggle sigh escaped me, but still I hesitated, picking up the fork slowly. Upon finding that the plate wasn't pulled out from under me, I shoveled pieces of the wheat cakes into my mouth as fast as I could. The manner with which I was whorfing down the food would make any refined lady swoon in secondhand disgrace, but I cared not. It wasn't as hot, but the food was still warm, soft and sweet. Such a long time had passed since I had tasted such decadency in a dish. The texture was smooth on my tongue, sliding down my throat with ease. My lips burned from the fine flavors.

"I am so sorry that your prayer put you in peril." said Atemu. I stuffed my face as though a famine were fast approaching. He seemed to have no opinion about how fast and ferociously I was eating the food. "If you ever need assistance, you don't need to hide. I'm sure that Priestess Ishizu would be happy to help you in the prayer room."

I stopped chewing. My jaw suddenly felt stiff and for a moment I seemed to have forgotten how to eat. It was as though the cakes had turned to ashes in my mouth. With difficulty, I swallowed and put my fork down. I had had my fill.

"If I may be honest." he continued. "Although I don't exactly protest when you perform your duties..." My stomach flipped and I felt incredibly sick at the moment. I did not want to think about suckling sausages at all right now. A small quiet hiccup and I felt the bile threaten to escape me. "I want you to know that I am very concerned with your well-being, and instead of a dreary schedule, I have chosen to readjust your responsibilities on a case by case basis as opposed to daily. I simply want the both of us to be happy. You are a human too, are you not?"

"O-Of course, Pharaoh." I said softly, becoming relieved little by little. It was simply what he had told Solomon down in my Chambers. Not having to unhinge my jaw every day was something that I looked forward to very much.

A cold draft washed over me, followed by the heat of hands upon my chest. I gasped and felt my stomach lurch as I was pushed back on the bed. The weight of my large breasts knocked the wind out of me and I closed my eyes, gasping for breath. Opening them slowly, I was shocked to see Atemu upon me, cupping my breasts in his hands with a smug smile. He squeezed them together and I stiffened, a wave of strange feelings rocketing through my body. "W-What are you doing!" I exclaimed in bewilderment. What I really meant to ask was why he had suddenly gone from talking of my happiness to groping my chest.

"Ssshhh." cooed Atemu softly, kissing one of my pink nipples gently. "You seemed to enjoy this yesterday well enough. As I said, I'd like for this relationship to become less mechanical and more interesting. Not to mention that I thoroughly enjoyed this yesterday as well. They're so soft...I never expected that. Just try not to soak these sheets."

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Chapter 3

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

In a kingdom that was far to the south, outside of the pharaoh's rule, dwelled a multitude of brothels and bars that specialized in entertaining the sinful. Amazingly enough, despite the obvious lust that swept over its citizens, the people lived very comfortably. They had naught to fear from burglars or murderers, for there was an innate lack of jealousy or hatred among them. The locals all loved one another very much. Whether it was platonically, romantically or sexually, everyone understood the differences of each love and respected the unspoken rules pertaining to each bond.

Among the most popular of the establishments was a unique cabaret that was renowned as the "Fairest Paradise." Here, gender did not matter, for as long as you were fair of face and rich in silver, you were welcomed with open arms, and in some cases, legs. The weak willed were discouraged from entering, for the employees were all very haughty and had no qualms with overcharging the strange or the ugly. They were five young women, all of them very beautiful, dressed in elaborate costumes that made them seem as rich and powerful as queens. This was part of the "gimmick" that the Fairest Paradise enforced to bring customers in. Each women was meant to resemble an Egyptian Monarch and each had their own special stage names based on who they intended to be; Cleo, Tootie, Minnie, Happy and finally Atema.

Despite the lack of creativity involved in the creation of her codename, Atema, whose real name was Yugi, quickly became a sensation both in the village and in the ones that neighbored. Yugi's skin was a rich mix of light chocolate and sand. She was not as dark as those in the kingdom to the north, but she certainly was not as light as the people who had used to live in the kingdom that had been even farther north. Then again, most of the women who worked in the Fairest Paradise were in the middle in terms of skin tone. They each loved their jobs so much, eager enough to work from one glimmer of dawn to the next. Thus, they were able to stay inside and avoid the blasting rays of the sun and save their skin from damage.

At the moment, Yugi was swinging around a wooden pole, a half full glass of wine dangling precariously between her fingers. She looked bored, and swayed to and fro her gold painted clipped earrings and strings of chipped pearls moving as she did. A fake golden tiara flared upon her head like a great flame, complementing the deep purple of her long, flowing cape. The only thing that was genuine about her likeness to Atemu was the style and colors of her sharp hair. Her grandfather bragged proudly of Yugi's hair. "So strong is her will, not even her hair will be pulled towards the ground." Or "Ra loves her so much that he attempts to lift her to the very heavens to join him."

As such, being raised with such silly claims that she was favored by the gods, Yugi grew up to be very haughty and spoiled. Not so much that she would condescend her peers, but she certainly held herself in high esteem when confronted against those whom she had no obligation to be kind who had no money for example, those who wished for a free quickie. Of course she would lend a sympathetic ear to these strangers complaining of their brutish wives, but she'd never so much as touch a hair on their head without first handling some coin.

Yugi sipped her wine slowly, listening to the sounds of sex pop and slurp all about her. It was delightful background noise to relax to and she sat down upon the stage simply waiting for someone brave to approach her for a ride. She was not completely naked. Yugi was certainly bold, but she preferred to tease rather than show everything off all at once. There was no excitement in that. A simple and long clean white dress with a gold band about the waist was enough for now.

It was then that Yugi's wandering eye happened upon a new customer entering the brothel. His skin was lighter than the average villager, but he wasn't altogether completely white. Yugi tilted her head, examining the man's clothes. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a simple head wrap and a modest covering of his unmentionables with a white cloth. He was clean shaven, so he likely wasn't homeless, but the man walked with hesitation, making it seem as though he had been particular generous with himself regarding drinks.

Yugi watched carefully as the man stumbled through the crowd towards her. She sniffed delicately and shrugged. Some people smelled horribly foul after binging with alcohol, but it seemed that this one had the decency to cover up with some sort of perfume. She gave him a warm seductive smile and set her wine glass beside her. "Hello." said Yugi sweetly, brushing her sharp bangs out of her hair. "What's your name?"

The man burped.

Yugi looked around in disbelief, wondering if anyone else had seen that atrocious act. Okay, she had never really cared much for introductions anyway, but at least now she knew that she didn't want to be facing him if they happened to do it. The man staggered a bit, digging a hand into his coin purse and pulling out several silver coins. He extended this offering to Yugi with his head bowed.

Taking a single coin from his hand, Yugi turned it over in interest. It was foreign currency, but it felt heavier in her hand compared to the money she normally handled. Smirking, she scooped the rest of the money out of the man's hand and dropped them all beside her, the change jingling as it plopped into the wine and hit the glass. "You get one chance in the front." said Yugi, laying back and pulling up the bottom part of her shirt. Spreading her legs without shame, she spread apart the lips of her delicate pussy, shivering slightly in anticipation.

He may have been intoxicated, but he certainly wasn't hesitant when it came to this. Almost as soon as Yugi's fingers were out of the way, the man shoved himself inside her, eliciting a rare squeak. "Easy there!" she had to gasp, feeling as though she was literally being speared. He seemed to have heard her as he hit slightly softer, but kept the same pace.

Yugi sighed in relief and closed her eyes, enjoying the tingling feeling down there. Thankfully, he stood upright as he fucked her, ridding Yugi of the fear that he was the type to loom over her and breathe right in her face. She despised clients who did such things, it was absolutely horrid. Thankfully, this was a moment when she could just enjoy what was being offered, even if the man was a little drunk.

The little whore shuddered in delight, giving a moan as her client started going deeper inside of her. Hissing, Yugi tightened her grip on the cock inside her, panting harder as she felt every bump and ridge grind around. A nice, good, old-fashioned, sloppy quickie was a great way for the girl to unwind. Arching her back, Yugi groaned and licked her fingers daintily, moving them down to assist in reaching her peak.

Meanwhile, Yugi's client was having his own bit of fun as well. It was a given of course, he had literally paid to have his fun, and the man certainly wasn't wasting his time or money. He let out a low growl as he thrust deeper into the slut beneath him. She really was as good as everyone claimed. Atema was a radiant little flower with a packin' pussy. Speaking of which, he was just about ready to pump her full of cum in just a few more moments. He grabbed at Yugi's chest, fisting a handful of her dress and squeezing adorable little breasts.

At that moment, Yugi arched her back and let out a bestial screech of completion into the silence, her scream echoing off the walls of the establishment, which was rife with a mysterious stillness. It was almost as though time had stopped in that moment, just for her to truly enjoy the feeling of her throbbing cunt, now overflowing with seed from her client. Yugi twitched and panted, falling back and closing her eyes merrily. She was so happy and tired she could have fallen asleep at that very moment. The only thing that stopped her was the feeling of an odd, warm wetness on her stomach that was quite foreign to her. It almost felt as though she had started her flow, but it was too early, not to mention that the location was too high.

Opening her eyes and focusing her vision further, Yugi was horrified to find her client lying limp upon her, blood oozing from an unknown wound. She was too shocked to scream. Looking further up, she saw not a man, but a horrible beast pulling a spear from the back of his victim before turning to look at her. Lunging forward, he brought the spear down with a great war cry, intending to pin these whores together in death. Thinking quickly, Yugi pushed the corpse away from her and rolled away from the attack, shuddering upon feeling cream run freely down her thigh. She was too tired for this. Was this some sort of horrible nightmare? Had she been driven so bored that she had simply drunken enough wine to fall into a hallucination filled coma?

It was too soon to start pondering her situation now, for the beast came forward again, the red of his eye sparkling with evil. Yugi jumped to her feet, but was promptly shoved back to the stage, a massive hand pinning her to it. She flailed and screamed, kicking and punching at anything she could reach. It was like fighting a boulder. Yugi felt like a pathetic beetle, fighting for survival. "Get OFFA me!" she snarled, panting in exhaustion. Now that Yugi was still, the man –no- the demon grinned, lifting up a dagger to stab her. With a last burst of strength, Yugi managed to narrowly escape a fatal end by twisting away at the last second. The blade caught in her dress and tore away the right side, leaving her chest exposed.

She may not have had much to show, but the vices of men plagued them to no end. While her attacker was distracted, Yugi used that split second opportunity to grab her wine glass and smash it right into his nose. Blood, glass, wines and coins splattered everywhere in a jingle. Not satisfied with that alone, Yugi pulled the knife out from the stage and blindly threw it in the opposite direction, so that his weapon would be lost. Panting, Yugi pulled herself back to her feet and tried to get a better look at her situation.

It was as though she were looking into hell itself. For some morbid reason, Yugi felt the corners of her mouth twitch, as though to smile. Now that he had nearly been killed twice in the last two minutes, it all made sense and the irony made her gut twist in revulsion. The idea that Fairest Paradise could ever be invaded with such hate was laughable indeed, but the idea that it would actually be raided in a military fashion was unthinkable. Yet here it was. Those beasts and devils were guards of the Northern Kingdom, here to invade their country. Yugi's eyes widened as she watched two of them torch each table, capturing and harming the even the customers.

The customers. The girls! What of Yugi's coworkers? Once again snapping back to reality, Yugi turned, terrified to think of what she would do if one of those filthy animals got their hands on one of her friends. "Happy!" she called, cupping her hands in front of her mouth so her voice could carry. "Minnie!" It was starting to feel unbearable hot. Yugi shrieked when a blazing wooden beam came crashing down where she had been only seconds before. The flames were spreading, as was Yugi's fear. "Oh Ra..." she muttered, shaking her head and licking her dry lips before looking for a way out. "I am not going to die today."

"Atema!" came a soft cry. Yugi whipped around in the direction of the voice.

"Cleo!" shrieked Yugi, seeing her friend's deep black hair flash through the fog. As she ran towards her, Yugi briefly wondered how Cleo had been able to pinpoint her voice even through all this commotion. Scuttling under the cover of a table, she concluded that it was too hot to question her anxieties and was simply grateful that she had been able to reach safety. Not only was Cleo here, but the rest of the girls had taken refuge in the neighboring tables as well.

"Why is this happening...?" whimpered Happy, who was not happy at all with her surroundings. Nobody could answer her. Yugi squinted toward the exit and felt a surge of fury. She stood up, heedless of the danger.

"Unless you sluts wanna talk to Ammut, you better move your asses!" she screamed, pushing the tables over and helping her friends to their feet. "Go along the wall and run away! Hurry!" she said, pushing them towards the exit. As she saw the last strand of hair whip out of sight, Yugi smiled in relief. Now that they had escaped, she could worry about herself.

Or so she thought. Just as soon as Yugi took a single step forward, she found both of her arms held firmly in place. Her heart stopped for a brief moment. No, No it couldn't end like this. With a scream, Yugi tried to wrench herself away from the grip of the monsters. "Let me GO!" she roared, struggling in a futile attempt to escape. She had been so close. So close to freedom. With dark chuckles, her captors wrapped her wrists together with a length of tough, scratchy rope. Yugi seized, gnashing her teeth and trying to do anything she could to get away. It was no use.

She was escorted out of the brothel quickly, leaving the devastation of the once proud establishment behind them. Yugi turned her head as she panted, her heart panging at the damage. She tore her gaze away, only to look upon something even worse. She felt all the air escape her lungs in one gasp of horror. She wasn't the only victim of this raid. All down the path, bars and cottages were aflame, some of them even sunken in halfway after the foundations had collapsed. Yugi stared on, unable to look away from the brutal carnage. "N-"

Yugi didn't resist the guards as they pushed her forward, she was too entranced by the scene before her. Yugi didn't even flinch when they wrapped another rope around her neck, attaching it to the saddle of the horse, as though she were a prize camel they were going to drag back to their kingdom. Her mind was swimming with the horrible possibilities, but she didn't want to voice them. Yugi was too busy frantically praying for the safety of her friends and her grandpa. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Grandpa was a wise man, he had to have gotten away. If he hadn't…the old man wouldn't have a chance against these heartless guards.

The thought of her dear old grandfather being murdered rekindled the fire in Yugi's heart. She opened her eyes and swung her leg wildly toward the first man she saw. With a grunt of pain, he turned around, eyes wide with rage. Yugi stepped back in caution but her anger wouldn't diminish. "You're despicable!" she shouted, adrenaline surging through her veins. "What did we ever do to you?!"

Yugi could hear more laughter behind her. Before she could turn around and spit in the eye of the cackler, she felt herself lifted into the air by her waist. The sudden ascent alarmed her and Yugi felt a whimper escape her upon finding that her feet no longer touched the ground. "What haven't you done, dear 'Atema'." said the man who was holding her up. Yugi remained silent. She was by no means embarrassed by what she did, but she fumed at the implication that it was wrong. "Your village is full of so many sluts and whores that it shames the gods. But upon discovering this gimmick of yours…why, we find that unforgivable."

"Unfor-" started Yugi, clenching her fists. "You don't have anything to do with what happens here!" she yelled, starting to kick her feet again, hoping to snap a rib in half. "Why do you even care!"

The man threw her to the ground unceremoniously, where she rolled with a grunt of pain. "Why do we care?" said another voice, pinching her shoulder hard. Yugi looked up and grit her teeth, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry. It was the guard she had kicked. "We care because you're a disgrace to our Pharaoh, we can't allow a little whore like you to go unpunished."

Yugi's eyes widened and she gave a smirk that surprised the other, wiping his own smug smirk off his face. "That's funny." She said coldly. "I think your Pharaoh is a disgrace to me."

Yugi couldn't hold it in any longer. She screamed as the one in front of her started pulling her hair in fury. "Stupid SLUT!" he roared, grabbing a handful of sand and slamming it into her face. Yugi coughed profusely, spitting grains of sand out of her mouth. She snarled, lunging forward and biting the man's arm. He let go, but Yugi was met with a series of blows on the back of her head. Even so, she held on, steadfast as a shark.

Eventually, Yugi's strength simply ran out. She sighed, letting go and relinquishing to the other two. Yugi was assisted to her feet, bruised and battered from the assault. Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The man she had kicked mounted the horse while the other moved to urge Yugi on. They trudged away in a solemn march. Yugi took one last look toward the only home she had loved. She turned back forward and sighed, walking towards her judgement.

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Chapter 2

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

I ran down the staircase as fast I could, desperate to run away from that terrible situation. That Pharaoh! How dare he… How dare he make my body react like that? Sure, he may be the almighty divine ruler in this country and he may have the usual curiosity that a teenage boy has about a girl, but I never fathomed that he could such a brazen lecher! I could never, in all my life, even imagine going to the bathroom on something other than a chamber pot. Such a peak in my life that I managed to do so on, not just any leg, it had to be the Pharaoh's leg.

What made it worse was the fact that he had had the audacity to ask whether or not I did the deed. That was enough to cause my heart to explode in my frenzied panic. I kept running into the darkness, barely registering whether or not my cold little feet were even hitting the steps or if I was flying down these stairs. All that flashed through my mind was that one moment, being played out over and over again, as though it needed multiple encores in order for me be to be able to comprehend what happened. Extremely inconvenient, seeing as how I would rather pull that memory from my mind and feed it to jackals rather than recall it ever again.

My foot stopped on solid ground so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance and was forced to hold onto the rail to avoid falling on my face. I sighed, relieved as I squinted in the darkness. I tried to make out the surroundings of my own chambers, before I wound up walking into something and risk humiliating myself some more with a needless injury. Cautiously stepping to the side, I found a weak glimmer of light coming from a candle that was nearly reduced to a nub. Carefully picking up the dish that held the candle, I used the weak glow to illuminate my surroundings, trying to find the torch that hung on the wall so that I could transfer the fire and have enough light to see. By pure luck, I managed to accidentally ignite it without noticing, although I was nearly burnt to a crisp when the flames burst into existence right before my eyes. I turned away quickly, holding my hair so that it wouldn't be consumed by the hungry beasts that were the embers. As I panted, light started to fill my meager little room.

Compared to the Pharaoh's magnificent sanctum, I lived in a filthy cave. It was always dark, it was always cold and it was always dreary. From the frayed sheets on my decaying mattress to the cold stone floor, everything seemed to be tinted a miserable shade of gray. Not to mention how cramped it was. When I had first been given this room, I had measured it myself. It had ran 15 paces lengthwise by 20 paces widthwise. The ceiling was so low that I could just grace my fingertips on the rocks above with a mere hop. The only pieces of furniture I had in my despondent room were my dresser and my bed.

Although it was getting on in years, my big bed was the only memory that I had of my home anymore. I could even remember the day my parents had presented the fine gift to me. It had been a present for my 5th birthday in order to celebrate my graduation from a "baby" to a little girl. It had been hand carved from the bark of fig trees and had then been filed and sanded so that it was as smooth as the silk and satin sheets that covered the mattress. As for the mattress itself, so soft even without the sheets, it had lovingly been stitched from the leather of cows and was stuffed with goose feathers. "An angel must sleep on a cloud." My mother had quipped with a wink.

Now it was a decrepit old thing. The wood had scratches and pits in it from bumping against the wall due to my fitfull sleeping. The mattress was hard and crusty in random areas and was stained from the many tears I had shed during my first few years staying here. The luxurious sheets had long ago been confiscated to be replaced by dirty, itchy blankets that didn't smell too well. All in all, no one would have ever guessed that this had once been a gift fit for a princess. Pretty much anyone I could think of would take one look at it and shake their heads in pity for the poor soul that had to sleep in that bed. I only wish that they could help me more than by just offering their sympathies.

My room was just one of the many in the slave quarters. The quarters were about…10 feet below the rest of the palace, as a symbol that were the lowest of the lower classes. In each room, there was a staircase that served as a shortcut to another appropriate room in the palace. For instance, in the kitchen, there was a staircase that led to the dining room. In the guard's room was a staircase to the main entrance. I had just ran down the staircase from the Pharoah's room into my own. I have always held a great distaste for the placement of such.

There are times when I would have horrible nightmares about the things he has the opportunity to do. If he ever got bored of me, Pharoah Atemu could quite easily creep down those steps, quiet as a mouse, and plunge a knife into my belly. He would curse me for my lack of talents, thrusting his blade into my breasts over and over, screaming nonsensically. "You don't deserve these!" he would say, his eyes filled with psychotic bloodlust when he finally cut them off and threw them to the side. My tears would do nothing to calm him and would only serve to infuriate him even more. "Stop!" I would sob, writhing in agony as my dying screams fell upon unsympathetic ears. But he would not stop. He would keep going, slicing and slashing until I was a mound of severed meat, my soul stained with the shame of being murdered so callously.

I came back to reality with a shudder and immediately regretted doing so. Now that I thought about it, looking around my pathetic excuse for a room, death probably would be a better option to living like this. I wrinkled my nose up, sneering at my bed as though it were a servant that had spilled my meal, willing it to suddenly regain its lost luster. It did nothing. With a disgusted groan, I walked over to the dresser, opening the top drawer. All of my clothes were torn, tattered, itchy, smelly or gray. I pulled out a gray gown that looked to be made completely of dust, eaten away in places where the bugs had gotten to it. Dropping it, I kicked the disgraceful cloth away. It was hard to believe that it used to be one of my favorites. I reached in further into the dresser, pulling cloth aside until I pulled up a robe at the bottom that didn't look too bad.

It was filthy of course, but it seemed to cover the most of my body. I pulled it on over my head to see how it fit. I could hardly remember wearing this, so I hoped that I hadn't outgrown it. Smoothing it out, it didn't seem so bad. It was torn completely at the shoulder, and there was a ripped seam running up my leg but other than that, it was…acceptable. I tried to pull to hem down as far as it could go without exposing my chest. It stopped just above my knee. I suddenly had an intense wish to have my mirror back again.

My chest felt tight tight and I wondered if I could get away with loosening it a little so that I wouldn't have to suffocate for the sake of looking presentable. I truly did wish that I had Mana's modest bosom. Perhaps if that was the case, the Pharoah would not have been so interested in me and forced me to do…what I did. Thinking of such, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to put on underwear. With a robe this high, that would have been a disaster if I had walked out without some.

For health purposes, (more on the part of the Pharoah than my own) my underwear was regularly laundered, so I at least at the confidence in knowing that mice could hardly get the chance to do sordid business in them. I opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a plain pair, stepping into them and making sure that I was completely covered from front to back. Now I was ready to go and see what Priestess Ishizu wanted to talk to me about. I could only hope that she had not yet heard about what had happened between Atemu and I not too long ago.

I crept into the hallway that led to the kitchen, carefully sneaking past the workers in order to get to the dining room across from the throne room. Ideally, I would have taken a detour to the guard's quarters, which had a staircase directly to the throne room, but the guards were a lot more hostile than the kitchen hands. In my current condition, with my rump and chest popping out and my other area barely concealed, I really did not have any desire to go near a horde of frustrated men. I may have been the Pharoah's personal concubine, but who knows what a hot temper could do to a man?

Scurrying up the stairs, I walked across the dining hall to the entrance of the throne room, hoping that Ishizu would not be cross with my tardiness. I peeked inside, looking for the priestess. When I didn't see her, I took a few steps further, trying to figure out where she could be. Had she changed her mind? Had Mana played some sort of cruel joke on me? I looked at a jar against the wall critically, as though Mana was going to burst from it and attack me with a hug and a giggle. This certainly seemed like a sort of prank she would pull.

I suddenly heard a cool, calm voice at my side. Feeling a hand being placed on my shoulder, I turned my head quickly, finding myself face to face with Priestess Ishizu herself. I gasped sharply, shocked by her sudden appearance. She might as well have just stepped out of the ether or teleported by some sort of mystical means. Aside from Mana, Ishizu was one of the more spiritually tuned women I knew; it certainly made sense that she would have the ability to conceal herself. More likely was the fact that I simply wasn't paying close enough attention and walked past her in a daze. I often got lost my own thoughts, whether they were unspeakably miserable or spectacularly joyful. I stepped back carefully and bowed deeply, my long white hair falling forward and brushing against the dust on the floor. "It is…an honor to see you my Mistress." I said softly, slowing returning to full height.

Ishizu nodded, her own dark hair swaying from her curt gesture. "I see that Mana has told you the details of our conversation." She said, her face as blank as the dessert sand. Ishizu touched the eye of the golden necklace she wore, looking thoughtful for a moment, before continuing.

"You may voice your concerns to me as you see fit."

I stared warily at her. I knew that the Priestess held the power to predict the future, a power that both intrigued and terrified me. I wondered if I should even bother opening my mouth at all. She probably had hours, maybe even days to come up with responses that would shut me down. I was curious as to why she even asked me to speak up. Frowning, I averted my gaze so that it wouldn't seem like I was trying to challenge her authority. "Forgive me…" I said carefully, looking back at her. "But- Mana has confided in me that you do not wish for her to be friends with me anymore." I tried not to let the sense of betrayal and anger I felt leak into my words, but judging by the Priestess's widening of her heavily outlined eyes, I think she had caught it nonetheless.

"I said no such thing." She said crisply. "What I told her…" she said, smoothing out her the skirt of her robe and taking out her irritation on the wrinkles. "Was to be cautious around you." Touching her necklace again, I suddenly felt a hateful urge to rip it from her throat and smash it against the wall. Ishizu glanced at me and then did a double-take. I bit my shuddering lower lip and tried to fix my face, but it seemed that, at the moment, I had forgotten how to display an emotion that didn't revolve around rage. "Because…" She continued slowly. "I have sensed that your future, as well as those of everyone around you, will become bleak if you do not resist temptation."

My confusion returned my face to normal as I pondered Ishizu's last statement. My past was bleak, my present was bleak, and it was no mystery at all that my future would hold no luxuries for me. What made even less sense was how I would affect anyone, much less everyone, around me with my own bad luck. Whatever did she mean by resisting temptation? I froze, biting my lip in fear. If Ishizu could predict the future…could she read minds as well? Had she sensed my urge to defy her and disrespect her in the worst of ways? I shook my head to myself quickly, trying to calm down. No. The Millennium Eye was the item that allowed the wearer to see the thoughts of others. Besides, I had controlled my desires to run away and be disobedient for seven long years in Hell. It would be ridiculous to tell me how to behave after all of this time.

"Forgive me." I said again. "But whatever do you mean by that?"

Ishizu closed her eyes and clasped her hands around the necklace. After a moment of silence, an unbelievably light started to radiate from the Eye of Horus. I gasped, shielding my face and turning away from the blinding glow. After a few seconds that felt like hours, the brightness slowly faded away and Ishizu's eyes cracked open. I wasn't sure if I was mistaken as I pulled my hands away from my face, but she seemed to be glowering at me.

"You must be extremely wary of who you trust, for no one shall win if you take this path that I foresee." She said darkly. "If this destiny is fulfilled, it will surely be the end." She removed her hands from the necklace and let them rest at her sides.

I fell silent. Trust? Who could I trust in this castle? In the world? Mana was likely the only exception, but aside from her, trust has gotten me nowhere. I went from Northern Kingdom Princess to Southern Egyptian Whore. The only reason I suppose that I am still pure is because I relentlessly pray every single day to the Goddesses Isis and Bast to preserve my virginity. Aside from the Gods and Mana, how could I trust anyone at all? Kitchenhands ratted on me if I snuck food when I was starving. Maids screamed at me, because supposedly I defiled their work by simply being near. My own father had offered me to the other kingdom in order to keep his slaves. I opened my eyes, which glistened with the wetness of tears not yet spilt. "I do not think that you need to worry about such things Ishizu…" I said softly.

"Eh- Excuse me?" said the Priestess. She didn't seem all too surprised by my response or my tone of voice, but she seemed insulted by my address of her nonetheless.

"I believe you know what I mean." I said, growing a stern voice. "You don't have to worry about me trusting anyone, anyone at all. Especially, anyone in the castle." I spat.

Ishizu stood quiet, but narrowed her eyes at me in a belittling gaze. I could sense impending doom, but I could not shut up now. My emotions were spilling out involuntarily. After being forced to hold them in and keep them down, they had rocketed back up, spilling through my mouth in a frenzy. All I could do was guide them.

"Half of the people in this castle." I continued, "Are too wrapped up in their own silly ways to please the Pharaoh to even take a 2nd glance at me, let alone try to use me for whatever plot they may have. Even my own flesh and blood attempted to pawn me off. My dignity was worth less than the usefulness of my father's slaves. So how can I ever let the word "trust" creep past my lips when everyone I thought was capable of my trust has flung the spear through my heart?" I swallowed hard, feeling a single tear slide down my cheek. I raised my voice and closed my eyes. "NO one can be trusted!" I screeched growing slightly maniacal. "How can you when you're all pure evil…AND ALL EVIL NEEDS TO DIE!"

The slap was quick and hard, like a dragonfly crashing into a wall. I could hear my neck snap from the collision and I fell slowly onto the hard tiled floor at Ishizu's feet. Cracking my eyes open, I lifted my hand to press them against my sore lips, which had been struck upon impact. "You need to understand that you're no longer a princess." Ishizu said softly. "How dare you act so selfish?" she scoffed. "If Seth were to hear you speak such nonsensical slander you'd be better off with your foolish family in the stomach of Ammut." She turned away and started to leave briskly.

Her bitter words stung worse than her strike. They burned like fire ants upon my skin, tingling and biting at me in malice. I tried to conceal the pain in my heart as I started to rise, my arms shaking from the effort. The sound of Ishizu's shoes clapping against the floor was echoed throughout the room. I stayed silent as I stood up. Stopping at the doorway, Ishizu turned around. "Oh." She added. "Don't bother waiting for Mana when you take a bath anymore…" she said softly.

I blushed lightly at the fact that Ishizu knew I waited for her out of respect. I suppose that now it would be fine to go in first without her-

"I do not want her." Continued Ishizu softly, giving me an ugly look of pure hatred. "To stink of a skank!"

I gasped as my knees buckled under my weight and I fell to the ground in despair. I felt a gust of freezing wind creep up my spine and pierce my heart. As Ishizu left, tears gushed from my eyes like the Nile's flood. They poured down my cheeks and spread like fire. A skank. To stink of skank. I could not be friends with Mana anymore and it was all my fault. I just couldn't learn to keep my mouth shut. And now I was going to be alone.

I sobbed and stood up, running throughout the palace. I hated my life! It was a neverending cycle of happiness and hope spiraling into depression and crushed dreams. I ran down the stairs to my room, running past the shocked kitchenhands without a word. I heard a slanderous whisper that I was forbidden from any dinner. I hated my life! I ran into my room and picked up the bowl of soot and ash that the now burnt out candle had been in and turned them upside down over my "skanky body" I HATED MY LIFE!

I threw my ragged, disgusting body onto the floor in dark hopelessness. I sobbed and screamed in fury at myself. I pounded my fists on the floor like a spoiled brat. I was all alone in this world. Not even a fly would respect me. Dirt would be disgusted that I dared to walk upon it. I truly needed help.

Trying to stifle my cries, I dragged myself up to kneel on my knees, rubbing my wet, itchy eyes. I felt around for the bowls that I had overturned through the blur of my tears. I found them and turned them over to their proper positions. With the light provided from the torch on the wall, I saw that there was still a thumb-sized amount of filth in them. Grabbing the torch from the wall, and ripping a strip of cloth away from my robe, I set the fabric on fire, dropping it into the bowl. Removing the rest of my clothing, I shredded it in a fury, feeding it into the fire until it flared like a blazing sun in the bowl. I blew out the torch and threw it across the room. In the nude, I clasped my hands over my breasts and whimpered shuddering with emotion.

"Great Goddess Hathor," I prayed. "Ruler of love and friendship. Please accept this meager yet precious sacrifice in return for a companion." Reaching back, I grabbed a section of my hair by the roots biting into my lip until it bled. I pulled hard, snatching a lock of white hair from my scalp, a horrible sound of ripping ringing in my ears. Gasping, I dropped it into the roaring fire. The flames devoured it hungrily, like beggars at a feast. My hair twisted and danced in the fire which suddenly began belching up a thick, black smoke that started to fill the entire room. I remained in my position, steadfast to make sure that my prayer worked. I started to suffocate then, the smoke seeping into my lungs. Coughing violently, I felt my vision begin to blur and I fell forward, knocking over the bowl. I could heard thumps and crashes going on all about. I felt my body slowly being lifted from the floor. I resisted no longer. Perhaps I could be with my mother again. With my last breath, I fell limp, my heart longing at the thought of finally being loved again.

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Chapter 1

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

After their bath, Ryou and Mana went their separate ways, with Mana heading off to play for the rest of the day and Ryou making her way to the Pharaoh's chamber. Her pitifully poor shoes slapped upon the floor of the palace, echoing in the empty corridor as though they were moans attempting to warn Ryou away. Listening to the haunting sounds, Ryou shuddered in disgust. She wanted nothing more than to turn tail and try to seek a life outside of her current one, but there was no hope for a pale skinned omen like her in the kingdom, or indeed, no hope for her within a fair 100 mile radius of anywhere she went.

Drawing nearer to her destination, Ryou turned when a petal fell loose from the rose in her hair and fluttered to the ground. She stared at the forlorn flower with the sad eyes of a doe. Biting her lip and touching what was left of the flower, she tried to repress the negative feelings that were weighing down her heart and poisoning her mind. It was as if she was so depressed that the very figure of beauty and love that bloomed in her hair had to wither away in despair due to her pessimism. Feeling pity for herself and the dear rose, she decided to bury her feelings away and simply go forward with the drive finish this horrible job.

Ryou arrived upon large golden doors, engraved with hieroglyphics that apparently explained the story how the kingdom was founded revealing the conquests of each Pharaoh up until the conquering of Ryou's kingdom, led by the the previous ruler, Pharaoh Aknamkanon. Despite Ryou's previous efforts to hide her feelings, she couldn't help but feel her stomach boil with crude rage upon seeing the engravings of her old palace bursting into flames. Supposedly, it was on schedule for the engravers to sculpt Ryou's figure being taken back to the castle for her to be the Pharaoh's loyal concubine. Though she wouldn't let anyone know, the idea this would be the only token of memory people would have of her once she passed on tempted Ryou to make a hideous error in her duties. At least then, she could die with some dignity in her heart. But despite all of her big talk, Ryou knew that she wasn't as chivalrous to do such a thing like that. She just had to go with the flow, no matter how she felt.

She might as well get this over with now rather than later, and with that in mind, Ryou bowed before the mighty doors, wrapped her skinny hands around the handle of one and pulled. After exerting a great amount of effort to try to heave this grand door open, Ryou managed to reveal a small crack in which she could squeeze herself through in order to get into the room. Struggling to hold the door stable enough so it wouldn't crush her while she passed, she finally let go and bolted inside. She cringed as a booming grind of gold upon gold was heard as the door went back in place. Ryou wiped her brow, sighing in relief. She could never in her life comprehend how the Pharaoh could manage to swing those massive doors open with one hand each. Strength worthy for a divine King.

Ryou slipped out of her dingy shoes and wrapped the towel tighter against her skin. Once the Pharaoh walked in, it was her duty to bow, flatter him and then strip. He'd then tell her what to do from there. She had some time however, as the Pharaoh was still dealing with duties in the Royal Court and wouldn't be back for a few minutes. This gave Ryou a chance to admire the decor of the room.

The Pharaoh's chambers were ridiculously lush and flamboyant. The way the gold in this room shimmered made everything else look so common and earthly. A thespian could write for days in an attempt to describe all the blood and tears that were shed to produce all of the treasures in the room and would die from the sheer magnitude of such a task. Violets, lavenders and indigos of all shades and tints were use with abandon. The way every color looked next to each other and the way every light seemed to glitter made Ryou feel luminous herself.

Not to mention the strange essence that wafted in this room. Ryou had dozed off often, huffing when such an intimate aroma caught her attention. She couldn't explain it. It was so sultry and Ryou felt as though she was being wrapped in a hot, wet blanket. To say the least, it made her feel... peculiar.

Her breasts started feeling heavy and tender and she touched them gingerly and wondered if this is how a cow felt when it needed to be milked. Her heart rate rose sharply and Ryou swooned slightly, feeling a little feverish. Down below, a mysterious dampness began and the hot wetness left and wrapped around her groin. This happened all the time. A soft moan in shame escaped Ryou and she became tense, disgusted by the juice that was creaming her thighs. She always felt anxious. She had such a delicate and degrading task. Servicing the Pharaoh with one's own body might be a task of honor for a peasant woman outside the palace, but to Ryou it was a daily horror movie.

It wasn't as though the Pharaoh was ugly or old or even cruel. Rather, he had a mischievous side that hadn't left him yet. He wouldn't smack Ryou around if she did something wrong. He would, however, have a rather raunchy tongue that made her blush and correct herself as soon as she possibly could. Again, he didn't abuse her with swears or insults, but merely embarrassed Ryou by showing no discretion or shame in their acts. That wasn't to say he didn't have a limit. If Ryou's teeth pinched him enough times to get him sick, he'd dismiss her immediately with a huff, looking disgusted. It was punishment enough for Ryou, who would have to make up for this failure to bring the Pharaoh to a climax the following day in addition to that day's dues.

Ryou gasped as the mighty doors swung open and revealed the glorious Pharaoh. She felt frozen on the spot as he stepped in and closed the doors behind him to secure their privacy. Ryou respectfully averted her gaze to the floor and bent on one knee, struggling to come up with a sickly sweet comment that would please him.

The Pharaoh was a rich blend of tanned sand. His robe, a pure white that fluttered when he walked. The sacred millennium puzzle rested at his waist, suspended from a sturdy rope that was tied around his neck. He had a skinny waist, but was fit and strong. He didn't have big bulging muscles, but you could see the definition in his toned arms and legs. Not too fat, not too skinny; he was perfect.

Then the gold. Oh the Pharaoh wore so much gold. To look at him directly in daylight would be as foolish as looking directly into the sun. Earrings, arm bands, ankle bands, neck bands, the crown. Peasants often joked the reason that boy was so strong, was from carrying all that dang gon' gold around. You wear more gold than what you weigh when yous a child and you sees if you nots gons be big and strong when yous gets old. An interesting theory it was, no one ever did see the Pharaoh bench-press a goat or go for a jog or anything like that.

Then there was his hair. A windswept flare of a style, telling gravity that it could go bother someone else for a change. Tips were kissed with bold scarlet before suddenly switching to a blinding ebony before finishing off with the marigold shine of his bangs. Another object of discussion in the bars was how it looked when it got wet.

Ryou looked up at the Pharaoh with a forced smile. "My...dazzling Pharaoh." she improvised. "Please- allow me to... engage you in the process of...taking on the burden of your stress."

Terrible, thought Ryou to herself. With a gulp, she let go of the towel and let it fall to gather around her ankles, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

The Pharaoh smiled back at her softly and approached. He leaned over, for Ryou was so much smaller than he was, and took hold of Ryou's chin. Lifting her to face up, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. Her eyes wide open and rolling back in her head, she shuddered in terror at the feeling of the Pharaoh's hot tongue creeping and poking around inside of her mouth. Her own tongue went into a sort of coma, going dry and unresponsive in her panic. Pulling back slightly, she exhaled hard to catch her breath only to have her lips crushed tighter against those of her Pharaoh's. She felt him licking roughly at her and she nearly started to hyperventilate.

He separated from her abruptly and sauntered over to the bed. Gasping hard and clutching her throat, Ryou stared at him for a moment before waking up and following him. Sitting down upon the bed and propping himself up with his arms, he opened his legs apart and gave Ryou a knowing smile. Ryou played with her hair as if she didn't know what he meant by that. She could procrastinate all she wanted until he gave her a spoken command. Besides, she had to get her mind in order. Open mouth, tongue out, lips around, do not bite, do not bite. Do. Not. Bite.

"Ryou~" purred the Pharaoh, his eyelids lowering softly as he took in the delicate contours of Ryou's naked body. "May you please begin?"

With a hidden sigh, Ryou knelt down and leaned forward. Although the Pharaoh said please in every request, that wasn't to say that you had the option of refusing. She lifted the portion of the robe that hid the Great Pharaoh Atemu's Royal Cock. She set that aside and took hold of his member. She breathed hard when she felt it pulse in her hand. So big and alive, so- gross.

Giving a small moan in resignation she got closer. The Pharaoh raised his eyebrow at the noise. So sad and pitiful- yet so arousing. It was adorable. His cock quivered in Ryou's grasp, startling her when it suddenly started to harden. Atemu placed his hand on Ryou's head and ,wincing slightly, Ryou knew it was time to suck. Nodding softly she stuck her tongue out and crossed her arms out over her chest. She flicked her tongue clumsily at the tip before she opened her mouth and took in the first 3 inches.

The Pharaoh sighed and closed his eyes in bliss. She still had trouble controlling her teeth, but she had become so much better than when she first started. He looked down to observe Ryou's performance first hand. Noticing something amiss, he gave a small frown. Sure- Ryou was doing an adequate job, but she was shielding the most beautiful part of her body from him! This was not permissible! Seeing as this was her first offense, Atemu merely placed his hands on Ryou's upper arms and pushed them in opposite directions.

Ryou took the hint and gave another soft moan in protest. She slowly let her arms drop to her sides and gave a sharp gasp when her breasts fell free and bounced, sending a harsh pain through her chest. Ryou's moans tickled Atemu's ears as well as his member. Pleased, he gave a low groan and tilted his head back. Such a musical sound! He petted Ryou to encourage her.

Ryou felt the gentle pat and felt alarmed. So the Pharaoh was enjoying the noises she made? How oddly sadistic of him. She cautiously made another moan and watched Atemu tense up in his pleasure. Smiling he spoke. "H-Halt."

Oh great, now she had done it. Ryou pulled away and looked up in confusion.

"Arise."

Wiping her mouth, Ryou stood up. She gave a shudder as she felt her thighs slip and slide together from the lubrication dripping down from her virgin entrance. The Pharaoh smiled at her and drew the hem of the robe aside to unveil his thigh. Ryou gave a gasp of surprise when Atemu grasped her hips and pulled her towards him. Blushing, she let Atemu lead her forward until she hovered over his leg. Feeling pressure pulling herself down, Ryou had to resist. How could she sit down in this condition?

Atemu gave her a reassuring smile. He kept pulling at her insistently, prompting Ryou to ask in order to be sure. "M-My Pharaoh...Are you requesting that I sit-?" she asked. Atemu snorted.

"I certainly am- lower your pretty little hiney, Ryou." he said with a grin, plopping her down. A soft squeak escaped her and she reached down to rub shyly at Atemu's crotch. The Pharaoh's eyes widened at the touch and he jerked forward. His lips curled into a coy smirk. "Ooh~ Not only have you gotten better, but you've grown far more bolder as well. Nicely done." he praised, shifting Ryou on his leg so that he could reach him more easily. Blushing harder, Ryou looked down with a coo of humiliation, stroking faster.

Suddenly, Ryou gave a short scream of terror. The feeling of two large warm hands holding each of her breasts caused her to stop what she was doing to look into the Pharaoh's eyes in shock. Despite the fact that this was normally a sign of blatant disrespect, Atemu didn't seem at all offended and snickered instead. This had never happened before. Never had the Pharaoh touched her so intimately. Ryou was scared. What was she supposed to do in a situation such as this one?

Atemu squeezed and Ryou did the same to him, panting furiously. Rubbing and squeezing the soft mounds in experimentation, he elicited more delicate sounds of mixed pleasure from the young girl. He noticed that the faster he rubbed her breasts, the faster she stroked him. The tighter he squeezed, the tighter she stroked. It was as though he had finally found the controls for this normally awkward girl. He didn't notice the growing wetness sliding out from Ryou onto his leg.

Ryou was out of control. She could no longer hide the lewd, wanton noises escaping her, and she felt a burning sensation of having to go prickle at her. No- she couldn't do it here, she had to excuse herself. No such luck. Ryou couldn't even string two letters together in this condition. She felt as though her brain had dissolved into armadillo mush. "Ah...Ahga...Ahrarara..." she babbled, arching back as her eyes rolled the same direction.

She felt Atemu's climax spill into her hand, royal seed gushing out in ropes and splattering onto the floor. She shuddered hard, feeling her pulse pounding in her pussy. She had done it. Breathing hard, she felt the warmth of the Pharaoh holding her. A session had never gone this smoothly before. But at what cost? To pee (or so she thought) on the Pharaoh's leg while he fondled her chest seemed like a fate worth than death.

Speaking of which, the naive Pharaoh at last noticed that his leg was damper than it should have been. He stood up, causing Ryou to slide off onto the floor with a weak moan. He stared at the beads of arousal juices dripping down his leg. "Did- Did you just urinate on me?" he asked in disbelief.

Ryou's face turned redder than ever and, picking up the towel, she raced away. Throwing open the door beside the Pharaoh's cabinet, she slammed it shut behind her before racing down the dark stairway without so much as a glance back.

Pharaoh Atemu made a feeble attempt to call her back, but stopped when the sharp bang of the door cut off his speech. He frowned. He wouldn't punish her for that. In fact, that was actually a good reaction. Atemu would have felt rather foolish standing there discussing why she had to empty her bladder onto him. Maybe it was reaction from all the breast fondling. That seemed logical.

And yet, as Atemu sat down again and stared at his leg he felt a searing urge burn within him. He dragged his finger into the runny, sticky solution and brought it up with childish curiosity. Taking a delicate inhale of the aroma, he have it a tentative lick. He blinked and reared back, shaking his head like a dog that had just sneezed. He took another swatch and brought it up, sucking thoughtfully on his finger before pulling it out.

"I do not think...that this is urine."

[sweetical]

My Scarab Savior: Prolouge

Once a fabulous princess, poor Ryou now exists for no reason other than to be the Pharoah's plaything. But when a sassy new whore mixes her way into Ryou's life, is it a steamy recipe for newborn hope? Yuri, Genderbending, AU.

Read From the Beginning!

It was a terribly hot day outside of the palace. The slaves were not exempt from working in the scorching, unforgiving sun that blazed like a horrible fireball in the sky. As if the burning wasn't bad enough, if the slaves worked even a second too slow, the vicious sting of the whips were sure to get them moving again. It was only when the Gods decided to unleash the utmost unmerciful weather that the slaves were, at last, given a day off. Well, the guards at least gave a vacation to those who worked in the fields.

Slaves like me, ones that worked in the palace, never had a day off. The kitchen hands worked tirelessly, scrambling and working themselves to near death. The servants would spend hours cleaning one piece of furniture, for if even a speck of dirt were to be found, a beating would await them. Even the priests, divine yet mortal, had to foresee the royal court every single day. As for myself, though I never had to really do any physical labor, my job was just as tedious and I don't think I can remember the last time my mind has been at ease.

For some reason, the other slaves seem to be envious of me. It puzzles me; what is it about me that there is to be envious of? My skin is a milky tone, not born of this land but from a Kingdom that used to be in the North. A kingdom where my royal family once lived in a palace where I was birthed. I suppose that my proper title would be a princess, but honestly I find it laughable to have someone compare me with such a thing now. Once pampered, now a peasant, I'm considered among the lowest worms in this entire kingdom. It is odd now, that the color of the people who used to be my own servants are now the color of my captors who treat me like their own servants. With misplaced malice and disgust, these people view me as my family once viewed their people: as one of the lower class. I'd laugh at the irony, if my laughter did not sound so bitter and maniacal.

This cold war of color was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. Each kingdom had their defined race, with the lowest class being a hue from the other side of the spectrum. The resulted social upsets caused the two Kingdoms to become very bitter with one another. It was a bitterness that caused rebels from each kingdom to sneak into the other territory, freeing slaves to bring them to a home where there would be desired. Soon, officials began to notice the issues and many arrests were held. At last, the former Pharaoh, Aknamkanon, approached my father to discuss the situation. They came to terms with an agreement that they would start using their own lower class as servants and would release all current slaves and give them as many equal rights as a commoner. Aknamkanon kept his side of the bargain, but my father, thinking he was sly, only released half of our slaves from their masters. To say the least, Aknamkanon was not pleased at all, and promptly sent out an order to raid our kingdom as punishment for the breach of contract.

When my father was at last confronted, he decided to make another bargain with Aknamkanon. To give up his one and only daughter, as long as he could keep the current slaves. (According to him, they were so good around the palace, and he just couldn't afford to let them go.) Aknamkanon grudgingly agreed and my coward of a father shook his hand in agreement. I truly wish I could end this tale here and leave my father with some dignity to hold onto in the afterlife, but my suffering didn't begin yet. The transfer was settled and the Princess of the Northern Kingdom was promptly tied up and set on a horse to follow Aknamkanon and his troops back to the kingdom.

When my father slapped the steed to get it moving, I was fast asleep in bed. How could this paradox be? Why, my dear wise father sent a slave in my place. He had covered her from head to toe in flour as if that would fool her own people into thinking she was one of us. Needless to say, it wasn't long before Aknamkanon came storming back in anger at my father's last betrayal. He showed no mercy as his army took on our own and took over our kingdom. I remember being so tiny and small, looking out my window in tears as I saw the foundations of the castle start to be lit on fire. If not for my screams of terror, no one would have flown up the flights of stairs to burst into my room and surround me with spears.

At that point I promptly fainted, and the rest is a blur. I was captured by the Pharaoh's guards and kept against my will for seven long torturous years. But it was only in the last three years that I was actually put to work as a concubine for the present Pharaoh, Atemu. I was only eleven when I first started my job, so of course I was simply clueless. I was taught to honor my Pharaoh, and my services included touching- and on some occasions licking and sucking- his…penis. Needless to say, I was horrible at the job, and I still am.

It's not like the only thing I'm required to do is perform sexual favors. That would be easy. I did work in the kitchens from time to time. It was slightly insulting that the kitchen maids demanded I wash my hands for so long. It was if they thought I would poison the food if I even grazed a fingertip across it, much less prepare a meal with it.

Despite all my social shortcomings in the palace, I did manage to have one friend. Mana, a young girl around my age that trained under Mahado with aspirations of becoming a great sorceress. She was the only one I knew that didn't look at me up and down with her nose screwed up in disgust. Whenever we both finished with our duties, we would meet up to talk, laugh, and play with each other's hair.

Today was our bi-daily bathe in precious oils that was mandatory for both of us. It benefited Mana to repower her Ka, and I had to be in it because it made me smell nice, thus enhancing my appeal to the Pharaoh (and hopefully distracting him for the fact that I was accidentally carving out teeth marks into his crotch in my befuddlement). Out of both humility and respect, I always waited for Mana to come into the bath before I went in.

I sat next to the tempting tub of heated oils in rags I'd dare not call clothes. I dipped my hand into the concoction in wonder and sighed in bliss. This was my time to relax and melt away all the troubles that pent up in my stressed body. Where was Mana?

To speak of Ammut, the door to the chamber opened and Mana ran in, attacking me with one of her signature bone crushing hugs. I gasped in surprise and returned her hug with the same enthusiasm in my glee.

"Where were you Mana?" I asked.

Mana huffed as she impatiently started to unhook her skirt. "Master made me stay some more so he could give me another boring speech." Mana's small breasts bounced gently as she tugged her shirt away to throw it aside in annoyance. She pulled her skirt down the rest of the way as she continued. "And then… Ishizu stopped me to talk."

I tilted my head as I started to take my own shirt off. "What did she talk to you about?" I asked as I struggled to get the too tight cloth off my chest. Mana watched me intently, as though she didn't hear my question just staring as I fought a losing battle with the stupid shirt. Finally, with a rip that burned my ears, I ended up with a nasty rag in each hand and a piece of cloth that slid down my back and onto the floor. I stumbled back in surprise and my breasts lept up forcefully before smacking against each other once the way back down. I groaned and rubbed them gingerly, as if scolding their jailbreak. Mana began to giggle.

"Oh Ryou," she started teasingly. "You and your monster boobs."

I sniffed, and glared sidelong at her playfully. "Oh really? You want to trade then?"

I regretted the statement when Mana's eyes glinted as if saying, "I certainly do," then leaping forward and began pulling at my breasts violently.

"OOOW! HEY, HEY, HEY!" I moaned, putting my hands on her wrists. I had begun to pant. "I was only kidding!"

With a giggle, Mana removed her hands and my minor heart attack subsided. She stepped up onto the stool and sank her leg into the pool. Mana sighed happily as she sank into the luscious oil. She lifted her arms and stretched, her chocolate skin shining thanks to the oil lamp above. I waited patiently for her to allow me in as well.

Sure enough, she motioned for me to come and I followed her motions, sinking opposite of her. Sighing, I sank low and let the oil go up to my shoulders. I was expected in the Pharaoh's chambers by dark-fall. Truth be told, I was not looking forward to it.

Mana noticed my depressed disposition and grinned forcefully. "Hey Ryou!" she chirped. "Want to see me practice some of my magic?"

I smiled softly at the mischievous sorceress in training. "As long as you don't set the bath on fire," I teased.

Kicking me playfully, Mana took a deep breath and pointed her index finger at a lavender candle close to me. "Ignite!" she cried.

My jaw dropped in surprise as it lit up, filling the room with a sweet scent. I sniffed it in and sighed. "It smells good~" I praised happily.

With another giggle, Mana cracked her knuckles and put both of her hands in the air, waving them about like a preacher. "Inferno!"

My eyes sparkled in joy as every candle in the room lit up, drowning the room in a delicious, albeit slightly overbearing, aroma. The flames brightened the room and chased the darkness away, along with my sadness. "Mana!" I exclaimed. "It's gorgeous."

Mana cackled and set the wand down beside her as she relaxed. I sighed, before thinking back to what we were doing the before. Then, I remembered the question that Mana had never answered. "So," I began. "What was it that Ishizu talked to you about?" I looked as her as I spoke so that she couldn't pretend that she had not heard me this time.

Almost immediately Mana's disposition changed and she became nervous. I mirrored her emotions, and leaned forward intently. "Well…" started Mana. "I think she's being unreasonable."

My heart leaped. I knew nothing regarding what this was about, but the curdling in my stomach told me that it wouldn't be good for me if it made even optimistic-Mana feel unpleasant. "Unreasonable about what?" I asked anxiously, my hands curling into fists underneath the oil.

Mana looked away, staring intently at a beetle that skittered across the wall. "She told me to be careful laround you," she mumbled.

I furrowed my eyebrow and frowned. "What…? Am I supposed to hurt you or something? I- I would never hurt you! Why should you be careful?"

Mana turned back at me, her lower lip quivering. She suddenly cried out and threw herself on me, sobbing painfully. "Ryou! Ryou! No- I'm sorry!" she screeched.

Surprised, I patted her back to try and get her to calm down. Sweet Ra, what was this about? "Mana! Find your head! What did she say?"

Mana pulled back and sniffed. "I-Ishizu doesn't want me to hang around you anymore."

What? No. That couldn't possibly be. My ears had beetles running through them. That couldn't be right. I inhaled sharply and clung to her shoulders, my nails threatening to delve into her skin, morphing myself with Mana so that no one could keep us apart. "No…" I said, swallowing away the lump in my throat. "She can't do that…"

Mana sniffed. "I was so mad, I told her I wanted her to talk to you when you finished your, your….your…"

"Duties?" I finished, becoming melancholy again. Why was Ishizu being so cruel? Was it because I was the Pharaoh's pet? Did I look at her wrong or over-season her food? Ishizu was one of the Pharaoh's priests, but she had a mild temper, and it was nothing like the angry and mean-spirited Priest Seth. Why would she tell Mana-

Whoa. Wait. Mana arranged for me to talk to a priest. Me. Talk to a priest? What would I SAY? "MANA!" I screamed in horror , pushing her to the edge of the pool, practically on top of her naked body. "YOU TOLD HER I WOULD TALK TO HER?"

Mana shrieked in distress when I shook her. "B-But you shouldn't need to worry!" she reasoned. "You can manage to talk to the pharaoh without being stricken! That's charisma!"

"Charisma isn't having genitals in my mouth," I hissed in anguish.

Mana laughed awkwardly. "W-Well once you're done she wants to meet you in the throne room, so you can't just bail on her... Can I wash you now?" she asked, changing the subject.

I puffed my cheeks out in fret, but begrudgingly turned around to let Mana do as she wanted. She picked up a glob of oil and massaged my scalp, running her greasy fingers through my hair to coat it well. Then, taking the lavender candle, Mana tipped it carefully over the tips of my hair to gather a small pool. Quickly, she added the oil and made a sort of thick creamy perfume. She cooled the mixture a bit, so that it wouldn't burn me, and then applied it onto my neck and pulse points to make the aroma emanate with each pound of my heart.

I repeated the process with her, but burned my fingertips a little when I tried to apply the perfume onto her. This made Mana smile a little, and she kissed my wounded fingertips as I whined. At last, Mana finished me up by summoning a single rose and affixed it to my hair. We were all done. For Mana, it was time for her to spend the rest of the day frolicking about the courtyard and practicing her magic. And as for me…

It was time for me to start pleasing the Pharaoh.

An: Thank you for reading the Prologue- please like, reblog or message me if you enjoyed this story so far.

[sweetical]

Accepting 500 Word Writing Requests! Ask Away!

Hello everyone! Sweetical here with a lovely announcement! I am taking writing requests for your favorite pairings, here to bring to fruition the ideas you have had locked away in your mind for the past week.

Simply send me an ask or fan mail with a pair and a prompt or feel free to be a little more descriptive, and request changes to personalities, body types or even species. I can write about your OC’s too, just link me to something describing their appearance and personality and I’ll do my best. I will write anything! Anything at all! My specialties regarding genre involve Romance, Erotica, Drama and Horror. Length will cap off at around 500 words.

You must be following this blog in order to make a request

[sweetical]

Jaden was just about to head on out a date with Chazz when he suddenly received a text from Syrus. "What r u doing?" asked the text. "Just taking out the trash." replied Jaden.

[sweetical]

A Brash Bribery

“I’m not doing anything! Not even if you paid me!”

“How about for 5 bucks?”

“No!”

“10.”

“No!”

“Ah, for free then.”

“Get your hands off of me!”

Syrus struggled as Chazz, the rich asshole of Duel Academy, pressed him against the wall with a smirk. Even though Syrus talked big, he was way too small for his denial to have any merit. The other towered above him, holding the wrists of the smaller boy with little effort as he squirmed and writhed, swearing under his breath. Exhausted from all his flailing, Syrus took a deep breath and glared at Chazz, his glasses sliding down his nose so that the other boy was just a blur. “I said, get your hands off of me!” he insisted.

“I don’t think so twerp.” retorted Chazz, removing one hand to flick Syrus’s nose before pushing his glasses up. How else could Syrus appreciate how handsome the guy who was restraining him was? “I said I have some buisness to do with you and I mean it.”

“I’m not interested.” Said Syrus, frowning at Chazz. “Whatever you want, it can’t be good.”

“Listen, you should be glad I’m even coming to you about this anyway, loser!” snapped Chazz, a scowl forming as a result of Syrus’s insolence.

“Why don’t you pick on someone else?” asked Syrus softly, anger fading from his voice so that it sounded more like a sad whine than a threat. Chazz closed his eyes so that the other’s attempt at trying to appeal to his tiny threshold of compassion and mercy would be futile.

“Now you’re sounding like a baby. I’m not asking you to do this okay? I’m telling you. At least, I’m offering something for you in return.” Said Chazz, still holding Syrus’s wrists against the wall in the empty hallway. His patience was running out, as was the time to do this. “I’m giving you one last chance, Syrus.” With that, Chazz reached into his pocket, pulling out a 20 dollar bill. He smirked at the money, which might as well have been Kleenex to him, and shoved it into Syrus’s pant pocket. “That’s my final offer.”

Syrus looked at his pocket in alarm and then stared at Chazz, looking miffed. With his hands held tightly like this, he was in no position to refuse was he? With a sigh, Syrus steeled himself for a kick in the gut or an escort to Swirlie City and nodded gingerly. “Fine. If you were going to do it anyway, there’s nothing I can do.”

Heat erupted onto his face as Chazz pressed his lips to Syrus’s in a soft, closed-mouth kiss. Syrus’s eyes flew open at the pressure on his mouth and he stiffened at the shock. Chazz held the position for a moment and then pulled away with satisifed sigh, as though he had just finished taking a gulp of delicious, refreshing soda. “There.” Said Chazz, licking his lips. “You can go ahead and keep the change.”

[sweetical]

Perils of the Prince

“I’m afraid” said the soft whisper of a young prince, staring into the reflection of his jeweled crown. He sat in an empty throne room with nothing to greet him back but the silence and the prince was fairly sure that the crown wouldn’t suddenly start speaking. This wasn’t the time nor place for something as foolish as that to happen.

Speaking of foolishness, the mere fact that the prince admitted that he was scared was ridiculous enough. If his mother would have seen him, she would have fainted to the floor in a heap. If his father would have heard, his jowls would have blushed red with anger and it would have been the prince lying on the floor in a crumbled heap. There was no room for fear in the royal family. No space for even the whisper of self-doubt within themselves. The enemy was always waiting, waiting for them to show a sliver of weakness and then pounce in, making the family and their achievements become nothing more than mere history.

His hands shook as he pressed a finger over the diamond crested in the front, so real and sharp that he noticed a small trickle of blood leak out from his finger. If he could be wounded so badly by a mere pebble, what hope did he have to rule the entire kingdom someday? It was simple. He didn’t. Looking at the diamond in the crown he looked around at the emptiness and gave a meek smile. The castle was full of servants and soldiers, tailors and tinmen, but no one happened to be here. No one cared about his feelings.

The prince looked at his bloody finger and thought about heaven, thought about all the things he had learned from Bible Study. How it was wrong to kill others. How convenient that his parents would tack on that it was okay in cases of war. How suicide was the worst kind of murder and that God rewarded those too miserable to live an even greater misery. How all children went to heaven.

His 13th birthday was in a few hours. The prince gazed longingly at the diamond in his crown, felt the throbbing in his index finger and the thumping in his chest. With a shaking hand, he brought the crown up, close to his neck, feeling the cold of the gold on his chin. At last, the prince gave a weary sigh and pressed the diamond forward. He was too afraid; that was his fatal flaw.

[sweetical]

Starvation

What started out as an innocent swim quickly turns into a bloodbath when Yuma find himself confronted by Shark, who is simply starved for Yuma. Sharkbait, literally.

Food was far more abundant in open waters, but the animals there were way more skittish compared to the foolish and naïve humans that swam and played near the short. They were so clueless that most of them actually found the feeling of scale rubbing on their legs delightful, thinking it was a friendly fish that wanted to greet them. None of them ever suspected any sort of trouble until the felt the teeth sinking into their sides.

Unfortunately, today was a day where most of the humans actually avoided the beach in favor of staying in their cozy couches at home, curled up with loved ones as they watched bad movies from decades past. The sky was gray, and the sun seemed to be nothing more than a distant memory hidden away behind the clouds, offering only a few shy glimmers of light from the few open spaces in the sky.

This trip to the shore seemed to have been an unfortunate waste. Just as expected, seeing as how this didn’t seem to be adequate beach weather. He scowled. Shark should have known better than to trust his sister. He had already been skeptical about the abundance of food, but she had described it so passionately when she came home from a hunt that he couldn’t have helped his curiosity. The idea that he had fallen for his sister’s scheme angered Shark so badly that he was surprised the water he drifted in hadn’t started boiling.

Rising to the surface again, he looked along the horizon, searching for some portion of meat he could attack. Alas, although the sky was full, the sea was clear. He growled, showing off a row of sharp white teeth. Oh how he hated them. Glistening so pure and clean when they ought to have been dull, stained with the rich redness of blood. So starved Shark was, he had to summon every ounce of self control to resist attacking his sister when she came back. The fact that she had bragged so much about the huge meal she had should have made the revenge all the more sweeter as sweet as the tender meat she bore.

Shark shook his head violently, violet hair thrashing in the water to shake thoughts away. There was no use thinking about attacking Rio now, she was back home, probably sleeping the day away with a full belly and a smug grin. Even if Shark did try to head back home and attack her while she was sleeping, he would probably be too weak from the long journey to even manage to snap his jaws properly.

Suddenly, Shark stopped. There were vibrations in the water unlike that of the common fishes that drifted in this area. Just to make sure that this strange and powerful voice was not simply the cause of a large school of fish, he dove underwater, prompting dozens of tiny sea creatures to scatter in a panic. Oh how he hated the tender morsels, too much work for too little pay. He desired not a pathetic minnow, but juicy, heavy meat.

Rio had made human flesh sound like the most delicious thing that could been possibly provided in the world. The range of textures, from the smooth supple skin of a child to the tough and bumpy surface of a hardworking adolescent played a symphony on the tongue. The taste once you got to the muscle, a beautiful red, stringy and delectable. Even the bones could be adored once the rest was gone, for unlike the bones of fish, which were sharp and light, the human skeleton had big, round bones heavy with marrow that Rio sucked on as easily as a young girl would suck on a piece of licorice.

Shark shuddered in a mix of anger and desperation as he swam towards what he deemed to be the source of vibrations in the water. As he swam closer to whatever was thrashing about, Shark discovered a delicious aroma pierce through his being and he was stricken. He opened his mouth and would have salivated if he hadn’t been underwater, and stayed stagnant in the water for a moment letting the scent wash over him.

It was the smell of blood, which meant that something was wounded nearby. Shark grinned. He could take advantage of that injury, turn a scrape into a cut and a cut into a deep stab. He could dive his rows of huge jagged teeth and tear it apart, cutting off it’s life force and watching its soul fade away as he gobbled it all up savoring it bit by precious bit.

He swam closer, and soon enough Shark began to overhear voices.

"Maan, who put this coral here!?"

"Perhaps you should have exercised more caution."

Shark smirked at the advice. Too little, too late. He had already tracked it. He poked his head out of the water just enough to see. At first glance, it appeared to be two humans one leaning against a boulder in the water and the other… Shark felt a chill travel through his bones. The one leaning on the boulder was human, but this other one was certainly not, at least it wasn’t anymore.

Like most creatures, Shark had the ability to recognize spirits and other beings that didn’t exist on the material plane. Because of the possible danger that spirits could impose, those that could see spirits steered clear of them, only watching cautiously or moving away from the area to avoid conflict.

This however, was an emergency. To hell with the spirit, Shark needed a meal.

"What is that red fluid escaping your body, Yuma?" asked the Spirit, leaning forward and tilting its head curiously. It levitated above the surface of the water, giving off an eerie blue glow.

"Astral…" whined the human named Yuma, narrowing his eyes and looking annoyed. "Why do I always gotta explain everything to you? It’s bad enough I have to deal with this!" he exclaimed, holding onto the boulder and lifting his leg above the water and pulling up wet swim trunks. Shark could see with controlled excitement the long cut on his thigh, a slice that made a ribbon of blood dribble down to his knee and into the water, turning it into a delicious stew. Shark licked his lips, his tongue tasting the faint redness. "It’s blood!" said Yuma at last, saying the word that made Shark tremble with absolute desire.

"Blood." repeated Astral, examining the cut. "And you are hurt?" he asked.

"Well I’m not crying about it or anything!" clarified Yuma, looking to the side and scratching the back of his head with a frown. "But, yeah I guess so."

Astral straightened himself up and crossed his arms, looking pensive. “Observation Number Five.” He said smoothly. “When hurt, humans leak a red fluid known as ‘Blood’ ” He nodded, as though affirming that note into his memory. “Do you think you should get out of the water until you are no longer hurt?” he asked.

"Nah, it’s no big deal!" said Yuma, putting his leg back down into the water.

"But what about that?" asked Astral, and Shark realized with horror that Astral was pointing straight at him. He couldn’t just fantasize anymore, the time to act was now! He dove underwater and darted towards Yuma’s legs like a missle.

"What about what? I don’t see any- GYAH!"

Shark had taken the plunge. Or Yuma had, to be precise, who had been tugged underwater from the force with which Shark pulled. Shark had attached himself directly onto the cut on Yuma’s thigh and dragged him down, down, down. The force with which he squeezed Yuma’s cut made it squirt obscenely, and Shark wrapped his arms around Yuma’s leg to hold on to the source of this delicious meal which filled his cheeks rushed around inside his mouth.

Yuma continued to struggle and thrash and after some arduous effort, he managed to make it back up to the surface again, clambering onto the boulder and gasping hard for air, bringing Shark up with him who was latched onto Yuma like a leech.

Astral gave a gasp of horror that made Shark look up at Yuma. The boy seemed to be frozen in amazement and fear, his mouth agape and his face pale as he stared at the monster with hunger in its eyes, lips stained with red blood. Shark licked them with a slurp still staring into Yuma’s eyes intensely. Astral drifted closer, arms crossed and shivering slightly in alarm. “What is it, Yuma?” he asked gently.

Shark turned to look at Astral intently, still staring at him as he opened his mouth, biting back into Yuma’s wound again. As soon as his teeth sank into the flesh, Shark felt a powerful force strike him directly in the face and found himself careening down into the water, spinning deep into the depths as his body trembled with pain. His nose ached and it soon processed in Shark’s mind that the human, the one named Yuma, had kicked him in the nose with his other leg while Shark had been distracted by the spirit.

Shark brought his hand up to his nose, whimpering a little and trying to soothe it. For a brief moment, he wanted to turn around and flee, swim back home and tease Rio so that he could be saved from the shame of dying of starvation and instead be used as fuel for his sister, when he noticed another taste in his mouth that was different from the blood.

Shark had torn a piece of flesh from Yuma’s thigh and in his pain he had not realized it until now. Chewing it over and running his tongue over the skin, Shark was overcome with desire. No, it was too late to stop now. He would endeavor as hard as he could to partake of Yuma, devour this succulent human or die trying. He shook his head to clear it and scowled, making furious bubbles as he swam toward his target, steeling himself for another attack.

Yuma was making a futile attempt at escape, looking so desperate and helpless that Shark wanted to laugh in triumph. He was too far from the shore to make it without a fatal wound, and Shark wouldn’t be afraid to flop onto the sand and drag him back into the ocean to finish him off. The boy’s leg was a mess. His muscle was completely exposed, composed of delicious looking strings that Shark wanted to latch onto and suck on like Twizzlers. The best thing of all was the blood, the sheer abundance of it trailing out like a thick red flag for Shark to follow.

To Shark’s delight, the human was slowing down from fatigue which was no doubt to the fact that his thigh was nearly torn to ribbons. He started sinking into the water and Shark took this as the perfect opportunity to attack again. He dove downward his eyes trained on the body and then shot up, speeding towards Yuma with murderous intent.

"Yuma, look out!" cried Astral from above the water. Silly spirit.

Just as Shark has expected, the sight of something coming to kill him had kicked up Yuma’s adrenaline and the boy had broken the surface in renewed attempt to escape his bloody fate. Shark leapt up out of the water with teeth bared and hands outstretched as though he were a literal lion of the sea and came crashing down upon Yuma, clamping his jaws around the boy’s side and squeezing until he heard the delightful sound of ribs cracking.

"AAH! ASTRAL!" Yuma yelled, screaming hard now as Shark literally tore a hole in his chest, ripping away the useless attribute of the nipple of male anatomy away and gnawing and the raw meat with despicable delight. Maybe Rio was wrong about a few things, Humans were still a little too bony, it was hard to get a good grip on the meat. Yuma’s cries were starting to get weaker now, as an overwhelming urge of sleepiness started to overtake him, the pain reaching catastrophic levels. He held up a weak, shaky hand, as though he wanted the spirit to pull him out of this dilemma, perhaps begging for an angel to take him up to heaven quickly.

Shark looked up at the hand and scowled, letting go of Yuma’s chest to swim around and grab hold of his leg again, starting to tug his meal away. He could see Astral coming closer, looking so utterly distraught as he brought his hand closer to Yuma’s. His finger’s outstretched and Shark looked up as he saw their palms meet.

"Astral…" said Yuma softly, closing his eyes as his hand fell through air, having made the weakest high five in the world. Astral stared at his hand, feeling a sense of helplessness overcome him as Shark dragged Yuma lower and lower.

Yuma’s body had been veritable smorgasbord deliciousness. As Shark had brought the body down, he experimented with it, touching the boy’s parts and wondering which piece to take first. He still felt warm, the last piece of life clinging to him by a single thread. After nosing around his body, Shark had noticed how soft Yuma’s belly was and had resolutely torn the skin away there, encountering what was basically a precious lunch box within his abdomen.

There were minimal bones and Oh the organs had been so delicious, filled with interesting flavors. Shark dove his head inside the Yuma’s fresh corpse, cleaning out his insides while they were still warm, cracking the ribs open to the side to finish off by eating his heart for desert. That was the most delicious of all. Even if Shark had gone through all that trouble and had only managed to retrieve this one small treasure, which was about the size of a fist, it would have been all worth it in the end.

Shark no longer feared starving now and his mind was completely at ease as he slept in his underwater cove , belly full of human. His arms and legs had been stored in a ceramic pot after Shark had snapped them in two to make sure they would all fit. He would save those pieces for a sunny day and remind himself to go to the beach and start a healthy practice of hunting human in bulk. He rolled over pulled the bloody swim trunks, which he had started using as a blanket, tighter around his body. Warmth was such a wonderful thing.

Just then he felt gentle vibrations in the water and recognizing them, Shark threw off the trunks and swam out to the entrance, greeting his sister Rio who was beaming with delight. Shark crossed his arms as he looked at her and smirked. “I see you like the present I found for you. Heh.” Shark shook his head, his hair flipping in the water from his proud gesture. “That’s for the tip on prime human meat. “

Rio smirked back at her brother and gave him a nod of the head and swam past him into the cove, the key shaped pendant around her neck swinging from her movement.

AN: Thanks for the read, I’ve wanted to do this ever since I heard about Sharkbaitshipping.

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