The Justiceers - Part Two: Chapter Six
the next chapter in my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Two: Wave of Mutilation
2.6
Miriam found effective means to help Arthur embody his godhood.
She’d been fucking it into him. They’d not left The Nebberath since she’d been back, but this was different, they turned the last month into a vacation of most explicit sumptuousness. Miriam’s little hand had been regrowing. Not too much though — just right.
She’d actually stopped its growth chemically for Arthur.
There were lots of things different about her now that she’d come back from beyond. Arthur was constantly feeling himself shifting in her presence, transforming more into the god within.
Before, she’d always been so tame and cautious with him in the bedroom. Miriam had seen the things Arthur had been through, those triggers carried in his body she was capable of activating, and viewed it as synchronous with her own long-repressed desires to be possessed in divine sacrifice. Yet this caused her to be fearful of letting herself out, doing things which might seem aggressive, which could causing his walls to go up.
Miriam wasn’t afraid of Arthur anymore.
The way she fucked was just different now, feeling her fire unleashed upon him left Arthur shocked. How clearly, could he now reflect his repressed desires to have her take him like this.
There had been such times spent in the cabin during this time, that office space overlooking Grammaton, the kitchen, and their escape pod — a favorite of them both for some unknowably morbid reason.
Miriam hips just moved differently now, Arthur had never seen anything like it. The way she’d mount him and lose herself within her light, to his darkness, brought them such ecstasy, stoking flames of heart and soul he’d not felt with that girl before.
Every part of her was delectable, skin softer than any he’d ever felt, tasting sweeter and sweeter as this time spent devouring her went on. She was insatiable to his desires.
Miriam would do anything that made Arthur feel good, because she’d feel it with him.
Arthur stepped into the communications room which would always make him feel slightly nauseas these days, the thought of Miriam traipsing in here half-dead to speak with him on the surface of Grammaton plaguing his mind.
She’d stayed out of the regen-tank his whole way back to The Nebbertath just to see him inside of that docking hatch. Miriam told him it’d been ‘entirely worth it’, but it still hurt him to think about.
Arthur was determined to check back in with both his local contacts and The Conclave. They’d been so busy lately he’d lost track of things happening about, and he could see growing clouds of guilt on his inner horizon. To be enjoying himself in the face of such ongoing terror seemed wrong, but he’d needed the break terribly.
The Conclave was linked via subatomic phase-communication satellites which allowed The Nebberath to chain messages back and forth in days opposed to centuries. It was still not ideal.
Since the very moment Arthur and Miriam were dispatched to Grammaton, The Conclave had been readying its own party to join them; a common happening when cases of seriousness arose about The Periphery. Arthur always hated it, he’d felt their presence micro-managerial, no matter how much freedom or space they’d allow him. He was glad to see their envoys still nearly a cycle from arrival.
His contacts on the were ecstatic to hear from him. Arthur Katrinus had become a name synonymous with equity and regrowth in his time spent coordinating from The Nebberath, having established such order in face of all the chaos.
It wasn’t his responsibility as a Justiceer, at least in writing, yet Arthur’s heart and soul knew better. He was made to help people this way.
Miriam had been picking Arthur’s brain for some time with secret motives. She’d found all the people in orbit of Grammaton he’d come to respect and adore. There were many, Arthur having always been a highly caring person who so honored resilient courage, especially women’s, whom his godhood empowered to see as such a grace.
Birthday celebration for many lifestyles of The Periphery, especially those of Justiceers, was simply not a thing. On The Nebberath — Miraim demanded it work differently. All time aboard was logged, and they’d celebrate each other’s passing cycles by time they spent together in their home; this magnificent ship.
It was Arthur’s birthday today, and she’d brought every one of his favorite people — the most special surprise she could muster for her burgeoning god.
They’d fucked every last on of them too. Even the guy, he’d actually passed Miriam’s smell test. His pussy was really wet.
Not like Arthur’s though, nobody’s was like his.
This wasn’t Miriam’s plan, exactly. Yet, the possibility was strangely present in her mind when planning the gathering. As she found it beginning to happen before her, such curious looks coming their way as she’d been inspired to initiate affection with Arthur in front of them all, there wasn’t one bit of surprise within the woman.
Her party planning had been a divine undertaking. Arthur certainly thought so. Never had he been with so many incredible people at once, and definitely not like this. To reach such incredible heights of ecstasy, with so many people of the highest moral caliber, elicited a pervasive feeling of loving passion that was deeper and more intense than he ever before had.
There’d been a ping from The Nebberath’s observation drones dispersed throughout Grammaton which was of great enough concern, enough to draw Arthur to their office.
Miriam joined him and was looking out over the planet, its transformation now accelerating with such volatility, those connective veins between emergences now forming into fissures themselves and beginning to emanate its heart-light in a web of silver across the surface.
Arthur had been hunting a ghost.
There was a specter in his data, gut grumbling about it since first residing over the planet in support, a part of him knowing from the very beginning. In the following time, it’d became more than clear that unseen forces were operating on Grammaton with most vicious intent.
Miriam was being cagey when he’d mention it to her. Arthur fucking hated it.
The way she’d not told him about the bomb, still such a puzzling occurrence which hadn’t resolved itself with any discernible motive or culprit, frustrated him deeply. When he’d questioned Miriam on her deception, she’d tell him there were certain things she’d not be allowed to say, and that it was condition of her coming back. Which didn’t make it piss him off any less.
Now, there was clearly something else she knew of on that approaching horizon of time. Arthur’s gut knew it be far worse than that bomb, and the fact it was also felt tied to this mysterious anomaly had just been another layer of betrayal he felt.
Still, his respect for the goddess Miriam was had become a mirror for his own shortcomings. Seeing how his attachment to figuring things out was held in ways beyond that of healthy curiosity in this ever-changing and uncontrollable universe. A part of him knew this test of her coming back, with knowledge she wasn’t able to share, had been written into the fate of his own journey as a test to help him grow.
He respected Miriam for holding it all so well. The girl she’d been in the past wouldn’t have been able to contain herself with anything that might interest him, so eager to let everything pour through.
This alert Arthur had come to check on was from a drone he’d had completing deep scans of the dark side. Grammaton was an incredibly large planet, within the highest percentiles of The Periphery, to map it was a challenge for even this most expansive drone fleet of The Nebberath.
His ghost was responsible. Arthur knew it in his gut, and he’d be back to do some digging when the time was less ripe for pleasure. Their party was still running wild in the galley. Gut spoke something to Arthur when he’d looked back over to Miriam, still peering out over the planet, reflecting on his stowed bitterness for her secrets.
Arthur would have something in store for her.
Things were evolving rapidly upon their return to the party and Miriam hadn’t seen it coming in the slightest.
A beautiful woman named Urina had accosted her at Arthurs behest, having orchestrated it all with such deviously joyous spirit. She was taking Miriam from behind and Arthur was watching from a seat in the corner, touching himself.
This was Miriam’s favorite.
She didn’t tell Arthur because her real favorite was whatever he wanted, with his own pleasure so apart of her own. Yet, apart from everything related to being in his arms, she liked this the most.
To share it back with him now, connected through such foundationally intuitive means, able to send her rapture directly into those most special places of her god, made it the sweetest pleasure she’d ever tasted.
Arthur came four times watching her body shake and rattle with her eyes so locked upon his — hearing her scream — feeling it all. It was superb.
Everyone was loaded out. Miriam had just seen Urina into her shuttle, waving her little mutilated hand goodbye.
This had been the best time she could remember. Arthur was becoming himself and she could feel it. There would be no better sensation to Miriam’s spirit.
After the shuttle had left, still quite shaky in her legs, she’d returned to the galley looking for her Arthur. Eventually, she’d found him sprawled in the lounge, smoking some of their finest herb, with the most complete smile she’d ever seen on his face. Miriam’s heart sang so loudly in witness of it.
She’d collapsed on the couch beside him, both spent.
With a dumbest grin growing wide upon her face as some well-known spirit urged her to let it speak, one whom with she felt herself so very comfortable, she’d asked the question at their request.
“Wanna go again?”
That god who Arthur was becoming certainly had.
