Conquered by Adrienne Steele


A Nasaru of Earth Short Story

Adrienne Steele

To all the ladies that know what they want
and aren’t afraid to take it.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons — living or dead — business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2022 Adrienne Steele
All rights reserved.
They came from beyond the stars: Inanna and Ashur — the Nasaru.
Ancient humanoids of incredible power, their sole purpose is to defend the Earth from the Etu Daku, a planet-devouring swarm that scours the universe, stripping planets of life to feed their insatiable appetites.
But the Nasaru cannot do it alone, and so they travel the globe with their comitatus, recruiting Prime (humans of Earth) to fight at their side, transforming them into the image of the Nasaru — larger, stronger, winged — gifted with unearthly power and unending life.
These are the “Chosen.”
This is the story of Shamash’s Choosing.
Modern-Day Macedonia
Spring, 7180 B.C.
Year of the Choosing 453
Week 1
“The Nasaru are here.”
The words stop time, a breathless harbinger of change.
But only for me, as Trena laughs from where she’s sprawled on my lap, “Here, Aco?”
Aco ducks his head, flushing, before raising it determinedly, “They’re making camp upstream, near where the rivers meet. I saw their beasts, and then a streak in the sky.”
“So the stories are true?” Trena asks, “They have wings?”
“I saw something in the sky, but I don’t know if it was a… person.”
“A person?” I laugh.
They are gods, fabled to stand taller than any man and gilded in silver, with broad wings to fly over both land and sea. It’s said darkness follows them, shattered with lightning. But also light, learning and knowledge flowing from them like water from a spring.
A man and a woman from beyond the stars, ageless and powerful.
But none have seen a Nasaru in my lifetime, and storytellers like to lie. When your dinner is based on your ability to entertain, the truth is often tossed aside.
“Are you going to see them?” Trena asks me, and I stand, dumping her onto the floor.
“I am.”
“Shamash! I thought… Can’t you go in the morning?” Her cries fall on deaf ears; I can feel destiny calling.
And it’s not Trena.
The night is familiar to me, the moon’s low light, the flash of stars overhead. Often I leave the village in the dead of night, sometimes to hunt, sometimes to scout.
Most of the time to be alone.
Because Trena is not the only woman hunting me, but a herd of chamois cannot hunt the wolf.
Pulling my ax out of its sheath on my waist, I swing it as I walk, following a familiar path to the river. I left without my bow and arrows, but I doubt I’ll run across anything while I scout the Nasaru camp. The two rivers meet a fair distance upstream, which was probably why Aco was sweating and panting when he announced their arrival.
It would have been good if he’d stayed to confirm if they had wings, to scope out their camp, so close to our own. But Aco is young, an unblooded warrior, although he is a passable hunter.
According to the stories brought by travelers from the Western trade routes, the Nasaru are accompanied by Chosen — humans they’ve transformed into their own image. Immortal and as powerful as the Nasaru themselves, accompanying them during their travels, serving the Nasaru… in many capacities.
Snorting, I make my way up the river, wondering at the draw of an eternity of slavery. No god would make a man as powerful as himself — only a fool would make such a bargain.
The bubbling crash of the river rushing by is the only sound in the night, the melting snow turning it into a torrent. I ponder my path in life as I follow the river’s edge toward where Aco said the Nasaru have camped. Their traveling is a mystery, their arrival here, now, a fortuitous turn.
Our camp is secure, well provisioned and spring has arrived, the harsh cold of winter past. Traders will come soon, but I…
I will not be there.
The flicker of campfires dot the hill leading up and away from where the two rivers meet, much more than what’s needed for two people.
But maybe the gods like fire.
Crouching beside the river, I realize there’s more than just the two Nasaru in the camp. A contingent of servants bustle about, banking fires and packing food away as they begin to settle down for the night. There’s also two Chosen, a male and a female. I haven’t seen either of the Nasaru themselves, but just as I’m about to turn away to make my own camp, I see it.
A streak of silver, gleaming in the night like the moon itself, feathers flickering like stars as the light of the flames glimmers off them.
I fall to my knees as she lands. Long hair, blacker than the night, falls between wings of lustrous silver. She’s wearing a short white robe, her arms and legs bare — her feet, too, although the terrain is rough. The fabric is transparent in the firelight, and my cock hardens at the sight of her curved body, pouting breasts and long legs, and the shadowed secret between them.
Her face is cold perfection, and shock rushes through me as her eyes — black as night, no whites — meet mine for a moment before she’s looking away. A younger woman attends her, handing her a cup, the woman tiny beside her, and I realize the Goddess must be taller than me.
And she is a Goddess, bright and light with her curved body and startling beauty and wings that shine in the night.
I don’t sleep that night, feverishly stroking my cock to the memory of her body, limned by the firelight, her eyes, black as the Void. Images rush through my mind in a haze of the Goddess on her knees, over me, under me… any and every way a man can be with a woman. I’m spent the next morning, dunking my entire body in the river to wash away the remains of the night.
The freezing water brings clarity — a plan — and I shake my head, flinging water everywhere as I step back onto the riverbank.
For now I will watch, though.
I’m stalking a Goddess like a madman.
Each day a fever dream, each night a torment as I abuse my dick with rough hands. She gleams like the moon, shimmering like the stars — the craving I feel must be the same as the wolves whose howls wake me at night.
I’ve watched her take the Chosen, Tuma, mastering him with hands and teeth and her knife until his cries blend with her own, blood and sex and all the fury of a summer storm. Panting, I palmed my weeping cock as he took her at last, fucking the Goddess against a tree until her cries echoed across the river, her whispered enticement driving him harder, a slave to her pleasure.
I want to kill him.
I want to fuck her, claim her.
I want her to claim me…
She’s seen me — several times — the quirk of her lips an enchantment, the movement of her body bewitching. Her wings are mesmerizing, the boundless black of her eyes a challenge.
Her grace is adored by the camp, her bloody sexual appetite a trivial aberration to an otherwise thoughtful mistress. She’s cosseted like a queen, her meal hot and waiting for her to break her fast, her tent meticulously cleaned every day.
The other Nasaru — Ashur — is an arrogant prick, though.
I’ve watched him fuck the Chosen with them, Neith’s screams rending the air as his rough hands molded her against him, splaying her in front of the camp as he took her, the rainbow of her wings falling around them like a broken dream. He’s accepted the favors of the Goddess’ attendant, as well, his much more careful attention forcing cries of pleasure from the woman that had Inanna sighing with impatience.
He’s more than seen me — a heart-stopping encounter, and the memory of it has me clenching my ax in a tight fist as the Goddess takes to the air from the camp.
I’d been sleeping when the burn of his touch against my knee startled me from my dreams. Towering over me, I got my first taste of the size of the Nasaru, his silver wings, arched behind him in warning, taking up all the space around us. He hadn’t said anything, his endless black gaze caustic, a knowing smirk crawling across his lips as he took in the still-sticky cum covering my thighs.
The unnatural darkness that crowds him faded as he lifted off, silent as the dead night.
Week 2
I hunt, eating my catch hastily beside a small fire.
I sleep, visions of the Goddess’s moonlight skin and midnight hair invading my dreams until she’s all I see.
And I stalk her.
When I can.
She’d left the camp today, lifting off at dawn and it’s nearly mid-day and she hasn’t returned. I’m impatient to see her, angry that she’s gone where I cannot follow. Her powerful wings allow her a freedom of movement that’s foreign to me, and I watched, jealousy eating at me, as the Chosen in her camp lift into the sky later that morning.
They followed her, returning with the Goddess and Ashur hours later, the sun setting on the horizon.
My jealousy doesn’t abate over the course of the day, or the next, as their service to the Goddess extended to all things, a wild tangle of wings meeting my gaze as she took the two Chosen together, riding Tuma’s cock as Neith rode his face.
And in return, her gifts exceed even my wildest imaginings. I watch her train them in the way of their own power, slight compared to hers, and different. But it’s theirs — not her own, loaned out, to be taken back when she’s done with them.
I watch her teach them mysteries, secrets scratched on thin sheets, knowledge and understanding beyond what I can comprehend.
I know they communicate differently, as well. The camp is quiet, and while Ashur speaks to the Chosen, the Goddess does not. Her voice is rare to hear, and yet they move to do her bidding as if meeting her needs is instinctive.
Week 3
Her low laugh calls me from my sleep, dragging me from my rest like a trained dog.
She’s fucking him. Again.
Tuma, her first Chosen.
And he’s bleeding for her, his back bowed, the heavy storm-gray of his wings falling to either side as she cuts a thin stripe across his shoulders. The cut is healed within moments, the blood lost against his ebony skin except where her fingers have trailed through it. His rough growl has her shouting as she clutches the thick locks of his hair.
His mouth is where I want to be — between her legs.
She sighs at his groans, throwing the knife at a tree distractedly as she grinds against him, calling his name.
Ashur lands just as she’s coming, her blissed out face hidden behind his flared wings as he calls out, “Inanna, we need to go.”
Turning, his endless eyes catch mine, his face arrogant and austere, and I frown. I’ve crept too close, her cries pulling me in.
Shaking my head, I fade into the forest once more as the three of them lift into the still-dark morning sky.
Week 4
She’s bathing.
It’s harrowing during the day, her skin shining opalescent in the light, the brilliance of her wings nearly too bright under the sun. But tonight she’s decided to torment me, visiting one of the river’s natural pools under the light of the full moon.
The sound of it draws me in, the patter of water dripping from her arms, the soft gurgle as it swirls across her wings. The scent of the night is in the air, darkness all around me as I stay hidden in the shadows, watching from the trees as she steps into the pool, lit by the full moon above us.
She was made for the bright night — the moon worships her skin, glimmering in sacred harmony with the stars above.
She ducks under the water, impervious to the chill, and my cock hardens as she rises, wet and gleaming in the moonlight. She’s turned from me, her face in profile. Her body is that of a young woman, full and ripe. I wonder if Nasaru can have children, but the thought fades as she faces me. Elegant hands comb back her hair as her wings unfurl to their longest extent, the silver primaries dragging in the still water.
All I can think about is touching her — taking her.
Being taken.
And the way Tuma kneels before her, bleeding under her knife to satisfy this warrior Goddess’ violent desires.
A secret smile crosses her lips, calling to me.
Tonight is the night.
I’ve finally lured the wolf from the forest.
His hungry eyes have been devouring me for weeks, his dedicated attention gaining my own. He’s alone, appearing from nowhere and lurking in the shadows for these past three weeks, watching, waiting.
I’ve seen him, of course, his dark eyes flashing from the forest as I wake at dawn. The weight of his gaze following me as I organize the camp during the afternoon hours. The heady mix of excitement and jealousy in the air when I take Tuma.
To say it’s rare to be stalked is an understatement.
I am the apex predator on this planet.
As I was on the planet before this.
But this Prime has been pulled into my orbit — by what I cannot say — circling closer and closer as the days go by, and tonight we collide. Violence or sex are all I have to offer him, but either way, blood will be spilled.
Water glitters in the night as I comb my hair back, rising from the pool as he steps past the tree line. The water is cold and clear, chill with the springtime thaw. It whispers past my wings, ruffling along my feathers, electric with anticipation. The moon is full in the sky, heavy and bright; ripe for premonitions and superstitions.
But I know life is what you make it.
Our gazes tangle as I move to the pool’s bank, his eyes a brown so dark they look black, and a chill chases across my wings at the sight. He matches me as I walk toward him, step for step, his attention greedy as his gaze ravages me.
Let him look, though — let him know. I’m not the Goddess they name me — yet — but I’m no Prime woman for him to take, to stake his claim on.
To bow under him.
And I see the discord within him, the need to challenge, but his gaze lingers when my Chosen are prostrated before me. A conflicted alpha, and time will tell if he’ll bend.
He’s big — bigger than most Prime — tall and thick with muscle. Every movement has an animal grace that calls to me, demanding I take him. His dark hair is shorn close to his head, his chest bare, a scar cut from chest to hip, only a simple battle skirt covering his thighs.
And in one hand is a short ax, the other clutching a long knife, the blade catching the moon’s light above us.
He’s a conquest and the reward all wrapped in one — made to be Chosen, gifted to me by the Earth itself. Licking my lips, I stop before him dripping, naked, gleaming in the moon’s light. Electric excitement is thick in the air, my power building as the tension between us mounts.
“I challenge you, Goddess, in exchange for your favor.” Straight to the point, I see, and my wings ruffle as his low words wrap around me, tantalizing. His words are strong, confident in his abilities. His arrogance calls to the darkest part of me, and I feel it rise, the world shifting.
I can’t help laughing, the sound low and haunting in the night. How eager I am for this Prime to be Chosen — I’m going to fight and fuck this man — and sparks snap across my wings at the thought.
The vision takes hold of him kneeling, the powerful wings I’m going to gift him falling to the side in submission, his broad back bowed before me.
I am going to wreck this man.
“What is your name?”
“I am Shamash.” His response is simple, for all his arrogant confidence.
“Come then, Shamash,” I tell him, chills chasing across his skin at the sound of his name. “I accept your challenge. I’ll award my favor if your performance exceeds my expectations.”
“First blood?” He asks, his eyes sliding down my body once more, and my wings arch behind me as I narrow my eyes on him.
“Yes.” I pull my armor from the ether, the heavy skirt black as the Void, made from hurac leather from Tassen, my home world. It’s belted low on my waist, falling to my ankles and wide enough for easy movement. My brevor is black as well, the twisting metal matching my belt and covering me from mouth to breasts.
Our necks are the Nasaru’s most vulnerable point, but this Prime doesn’t represent any danger to me; I cannot be killed by anything but the Etu Daku, with their poison stingers and blade-like arms.
Calling my swords to hand, I smile fiercely. I know he will not be a worthy opponent — he’s only Prime — but having my swords in hand speaks to the darkest part of me. The part that’s cut through swaths of the Etu Daku, until their blood runs golden on the ground. The part that killed their queen, my wings tattered, saturated with blood and gore.
Raising my sword in a cursory salute, I rush him.
Slicing across his scar and spinning as I pass him, I stop just beyond him, my laugh underscored by his indrawn breath. Blood, rich and red and hypnotic, falls down his cobbled abdomen from the shallow cut I left, the air thick with the scent of iron.
His dark eyes are filled with lust when they meet mine, filthy and raw, his voice rough with his arousal as he accuses, “Do the Nasaru not fight with honor?”
“No — we fight to win.”
His eyes widen when I step closer. He’s tall for a Prime, but I am Nasaru, several hands taller, and he’s forced to look up to me. I smile at his annoyed expression — he’s not used to looking up to anyone — trailing the sharp edge of my sword up his leg. I’m careful not to nick him too deeply, not to sever anything important, but blood dots his skin along the path my blade follows.
Dark eyes dropping to the shining metal, he sheaths his knife, heat and sex and danger scenting the air when he stops my sword’s winding path with a hand around the blade.
“Careful.” My swords are thin, but sharp; strong enough to cut cleanly through an Etu Daku exoskeleton. Twisting the blade carefully, so his fingers aren’t severed by my movements, I raise a brow at his bloody hand when he releases it, stepping back once more.
“Again?” He asks, dark eyes burning with lust, and I’m mesmerized as he wipes his bloody hand down his chest. Heat shivers through me, my core clenching at his challenging expression.
“Yes,” I agree, dodging his attack — he is fast — before slicing up the ladder of his ribs, my elbow brushing my wing as I pull back so I don’t cut him too deeply. More blood trickles down his skin, dripping down his ribs as I step back.
Hooking his ax onto the belt at his waist, his burning gaze holds mine as he runs both hands across his stomach, smearing blood over his golden skin. His chest is covered in it, gleaming dark red in the moonlight, and I breathe it in, stepping closer, lured by the scent.
“Enough of this,” he murmurs, falling to his knees before me. “Come closer, Goddess; let me exceed your expectations.”
His blood isn’t visible on the black hurac leather of my skirt as he grasps it, and I gasp when his hand rings my ankle, hidden from view, sticky and slick by turns. His hand is still bleeding from when he grasped my sword’s blade; he isn’t Chosen, so he won’t heal so quickly. His eyes widen as he gazes up at me, his hand flexing at the electric pain from my touch. I am Nasaru, and to touch us is to feel the burn of our power.
Sparks cascade across my wings as I meet his eyes, the need there matching my own.
This is unexpected.
His hand charts an unsteady path up my leg as he holds my eyes, and I send my armor to the ether with a thought. His groan is loud in the night at the sight of me, bared for him. His progress is marked by the trail of blood traced up my leg, and he moves forward with a growl when the scent of my arousal perfumes the air.
His other hand joins the first, stickier with drying blood, his fingers grasping as he pulls my thighs apart. I widen my stance, tilting my hips forward as my wings arch over us. His eyes are feral when they meet mine, his teeth bared as he shuffles closer, awkward on his knees as he leans into me.
Fuck, he knows what he’s doing, though.
Throwing my head back as he goes straight for my clit, I cry out as he sucks and licks like a starving man at a feast. I cry out as bloody fingers slide into my cunt, rough, urgent. His growled curses vibrate against my clit as he fucks me, and I reach for his head, holding him against me with both hands, his hair too short to grasp.
“Just like that,” I gasp, and my words have an immediate effect, the rhythm of his fingers increasing, his other hand pulling my thighs wider as he shoves his head against my needy pussy. His other hand trails around to my ass, grasping the flesh there greedily before dragging me forward, and I throw one leg over his shoulder, leaning on him as he worships my pussy.
I’m surprised by the climax that sweeps through me when he growls against the heart of me, his fingers tightening on my ass, his lips wrapping around my clit once more as he drives me over the edge. He licks me through my climax, waves of ecstasy rolling through me as I clutch his head against my cunt.
She tastes like falling stars and danger and blood.
I’m lost in her as she cries out above me, my cock throbbing at the sound of her pleasure. Her cunt is sweet as I lick it up, wrapping my lips around the tiny nubbin at the apex of her pussy. Her low moan is profound, addictive, and I come with a groan as her hands grasp my head, clutching as she shivers against me.
I don’t want to be anywhere but here, in this heaven between her legs.
Any doubts I had about spending an eternity in service to the Goddess have fled, and in their place, a new objective. A goal so far above me I know it will take an eternity to reach.
To own her pleasure, her thoughts, her time; to stand with her for eternity.
But first, I need to obtain immortality.
Pulling back, I lick her slick from my fingers as she catches her breath. Amazement fills me — I did that; I made this Goddess lose her breath, made her cry out, my tongue and fingers shoved as deep inside her as I could get. My cock is weeping, hard again and sticky against my thighs as I kneel before her.
She collects herself, pulling all the pieces back inside that she’s let out as I devoured her.
“Well… you certainly surprised me, Shamash,” she tells me, her hand still resting on my head. Keeping me down, and my cock jumps at her casual dominance.
I hold my silence; there’s too much riding on this moment for my mouth to fuck it up.
She smiles at that, nodding slightly.
“And intelligent enough not to interrupt.” My dick is throbbing, and I realize it’s more her words than her naked body that’s got me so desperate.
I want to mount her, take her and own her, flickering visions of her bent before me, screaming as I shove my cock into her pussy. I want to lick her up until her cries echo through the forest. I want to lie back as she rides me.
Collaring my throat as she takes my cock.
I nearly come at the wayward thought, my stifled groan loud in the night, and it’s as if she can see into my mind. She knows what I want, her arrogant smirk shuddering through me, pricking my skin with painful sparks the same as when I touched her.
Stepping back, she shakes her head, a mysterious smile crossing her lips as she tells me, “I Choose you, Shamash.”
The rest of her words are lost as I’m enveloped in light, blinding and cold as the river beside us. There’s a column above me, leading to the stars, and I look up, but the change comes from below.
My feet are bound, held immobile as the light sweeps through me, the cold a blade that scrapes away pieces of my self as I’m changed.
Then the darkness takes me.
Something has changed when I wake.
My body feels… different. Newer.
“You Chose him?” Ashur’s laughing question is thick with disbelief and I open my eyes to find both of them above me.
From here they are the gods I’ve named them, tall and strong, their wings gleaming under the moon’s light, the night air thick with power. A matched pair, with the same eyes and silver wings, but that’s where the similarities end — Ashur is tall, lean with muscle; the Goddess, Inanna, is shorter, rounded and ripe, her long black hair falling straight to her waist in a thick wave of oblivion.
“Obviously,” her response is annoyed, bottomless eyes dropping from Ashur’s to my own. They widen when they meet mine, her surprise ringing through… my mind?
“He’s awake already?” Ashur’s sly smile distracts me from the echo in my head as he wraps an arm around Inanna’s waist. “Maybe he’s defective.”
Gritting my teeth in annoyance, I struggle to sit up, bracing myself with a glowing hand on the dirty ground as the realization thunders through me — I’ve been Chosen. The Goddess’ power is still coursing through me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, irregular snaps of lightning along the crest of my wings.
I have wings. They pull forward, easy and natural as if they’ve been there all along. My back flexes as they move, and I glance down, realizing I’m naked, my clothing and weapons gone. Everything about me is… longer; my feet are further away, my hands as well, when I hold them in front of me.
My whole body is glowing, and hushed words — thoughts that aren’t my own — resonate in my mind.
It will fade.
It’s the Goddess’s voice, and her words, but I have to close my eyes, disoriented as her mouth forms an answer to Ashur’s question instead of the words drifting along my mind.
“It’s rare, but I’ve seen Chosen wake this quickly before.” Her wry response to Ashur’s… teasing… has a razor-sharp smile crossing his face before it fades into his usual impassivity. I’ve not seen the two of them together like this before; they must be closer than I’d thought.
Much closer. Frowning, I stand before them as Ashur pulls her against him, his words loud enough to hear as he whispers in her ear, “Do you want me to fuck him with you?”
“What? No,” she tells him, pushing his arm from around her with a grimace, “Stop it, Ashur.”
Laughing, he steps back, broad wings unfurling behind him, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“We agreed, Ashur,” Inanna turns to him, eyes narrowed as she crosses her arms.
“And I’m leaving you to it,” he counters, threads of darkness twining through his silver wings, “They’re yours, Inanna — do as you please.”
The Goddess’ arms drop as she nods, “Good.”
Shaking his head, Ashur lifts into the sky, the stars above us brightening as he flies back to their camp.
Our camp, now.
Because the Goddess has Chosen me.
I look down at the glow fading from my skin, flaring my wings wide as I look to Inanna for guidance. Her eyes are on my wings, though, thoughtful as they spread behind me, and I pull one forward. They’re large, like me now, mottled gray and sensitive to the touch. A shiver courses through me as I run a hand down the long feathers at the end — primaries, according to the echo in my head.
“These are primaries?” I ask, flaring the ends of my wings so the long feathers there are visible.
Inanna is startled out of her thoughts by my question, visibly surprised as she tilts her head, “You can hear me?”
“Yes, Goddess,” I answer slowly. Why is she asking this? The gleaming connection in my mind is new and strange, but I think it must be how the other Chosen are able to hear her this way. I’ve seen them turn from a task to perform some service for her before, with no words spoken.
“Stalking me hasn’t given you all the answers, Shamash,” she shakes her head with a laugh. “It usually takes longer for the connection to deepen enough for more than emotions to be conveyed.”
I’ve woken early, our connection is deeper — am I defective?
“No, you aren’t defective. If anything, you’re stronger than the other Chosen,” the Goddess tells me. I find her matter-of-fact words, spoken in answer to my thoughts, comforting, nonetheless. Also comforting is the absence of the glow on my skin, and I’m surprised to see my scars are gone.
“Your power will grow as time goes on, and you won’t scar. You’re effectively impervious to the elements now. I don’t recommend dropping into a volcano, but I have seen Chosen live through it.”
“Volcano…” She’s using words I don’t understand, and Inanna smiles.
“You’ll see one, eventually, and you’ll remember this moment like it was yesterday.”
I’m having a conversation — with the Goddess — about my new body and the promise of immortality.
Shaking my head a little, I glance at her — down at her. I’m taller by no more than three fingers, but if I stepped closer, I’d be able to shadow her with my wings. I’m at least as big as her other Chosen, more than able to take her — please her — the vision of it cascading through me, arching my wings and I fist my hands as my cock jerks to life.
Inanna stills, her own wings flaring, and I’m surprised to see sparks across the crest. “I didn’t Choose you to fuck, Shamash,” she tells me slowly, but I feel the… omission.
She didn’t Choose me to fuck her, but I’m going to, and she wants me to. Her excitement rises as we stand together, facing one another under the moonlight. I’m naked, and under her long battle skirt is the trail of my blood, leading to the prize between her thighs.
She wants me to take her. My heart pounds as she straightens.
“You’ve stalked me for weeks, Shamash,” her low words wrapping around me as she steps forward. I stiffen as one delicate finger traces a line down my chest, not touching, but close enough I can feel the heat as it trails down the tense muscles of my abdomen, before dropping away just above my cock. “I thought you’d realized by now what I require — you think to take me?”
“To claim me?”
Shaking her head, she laughs, eyes deeper than the Void holding mine as her hand rises once again, and I still. Tremors run along my wings and down my back when she wraps her hand around my throat, an electric burn that has my cock hardening even as I jerk back instinctively.
I’m surprised when she lets me go, the skin of my neck alive with the memory of her hand as she steps closer still.
“I offer only sex and violence, Shamash,” she whispers, “And if you offer yourself, I will take what I want.”
Her hand rises again and I brace myself, but this time it rests on my shoulder, a sparking pain as she strokes down my arm until her fingers circle my wrist. She twists it suddenly, and I grunt when I turn as she pulls my arm behind my back. I drop to the ground when she kicks my knee, leaning over me between my wings as she holds my arm tight, “And I will give you… unutterable pleasure. But I won’t give you me.”
“Take me then,” I growl, uncomfortable beneath her, furious that she’s put me here, but my dick is hard enough to break stone. The air is filled with her scent, her excitement, and I curse under my breath when her grip on my wrist tightens before she lets me go. Tension vibrates through me as she leans closer, her low laugh raising chills.
“Is that an order, Chosen?”
Aggression, anger — reckless desire rides me as I kneel in the dirt. The heat from her body between my wings sparks awareness, conflicting desires claiming me, to lean back against her, to stand up and turn on her.
To push her to her knees, wrap her hair around my hand…
I shudder as elegant fingers wrap around my throat once more, my wings arching and I start to rise, but her grip tightens, and she holds me down. Her smaller woman’s body is a deception — her hands hold the strength of a mountain, unmovable, and I subside, stymied by her.
Sullen frustration has me sinking further in the dirt as she straightens behind me. My back is stiff when she lets go of my neck with a hum, her fingers tracing the line of my spine.
If she requires me to be on my knees, then I will kneel before her.
“I do,” she whispers, her fingers grazing the sensitive crest of my wings as they trail back up toward my neck, “I require it, Shamash, because I can feel your dominance, and it calls to my own; it makes me want to break you, to take you and wreck you.”
“Do it,” I whisper, urging her on. “Take me, Goddess — break me. I’m yours.”
Desperate words as I struggle to remain kneeling. I need something, an outlet for the violence rising inside and I groan when her lips press against my neck, her whispered words warm, “You aren’t yet — I can feel your conflict, Shamash — but I’ll show you.”
I want her — under me, over me… I’ll take anything at this point, my goal to take her morphing into a shuddering need to be taken as her tongue traces a path to my ear, “I’ll show you what I require, Chosen.”
He’s nearly shaking under my hand, tense as I stand over him, the hoarse sound of his breath the only sound in the still night.
He’s given up standing, which is good, because the thoughts going through his head — my hair wrapped around his hand as I look up at him, tears in my eyes as he fucks my mouth — have my monster’s full attention. I struggle to push it back to the depths, my wings arched behind me, sparking with power. The hand I don’t have on him — maintaining contact so he doesn’t rise — is fisted, and I stretch it out with a shake to release the tension.
“Goddess,” his growl has my hand tightening on his shoulder, and I shake my head.
“Be quiet, Shamash.” He’s going to push me too far, the surly aggression in his words pricking my temper. I haven’t had anyone push me so far and so fast in… millennia.
Those are not good memories.
He leans forward, a frustrated breath heaving his shoulders.
It occurs to me as the air grows thick with my power — perhaps I should leave. Everything this Chosen is doing is triggering me. My vision is narrow, my monster escaping between one breath and the next, hands fisting against his skin as I fight the urge to show him exactly how far I’ll push him, until pain and pleasure are lost and he only knows me as he comes.
There’s something in Shamash that calls to the darkest parts of me, though, and I want to show him what those pieces of me need.
“Inanna…” his whispered plea decides me, and I grab a fistful of dark hair — now long enough for me to hold — before he can turn his head to look at me.
“Face forward, Chosen,” I tell him. His short nod is laced with anger as I let go of his hair.
Laughing to myself but unable to let this go — vowing I won’t take it too far — I slide my hand around to his neck, my grip high and tight under his jaw as I step closer, until his head rests against my sternum. His wings are arched on either side of me — aggressive, arrogant — but I ignore them for now.
He swallows against my palm as my other hand drifts down my body, grazing against the sensitive feathers along his spine.
“Quiet,” I order again, and I smile as a growl escapes him, rumbling against my hand. He subsides when my hand tightens, furious but undeniably aroused. His cock is hard, weeping pre-come as I hold him, his breath coming quicker as my fingers reach my cunt.
He learns fast enough, though, stifling his next outburst when I push two fingers between my legs, the slick sound loud in the still night. His breath heaves as pleasure shudders through me, flowing along our link as he’s trapped against me. His hand raises to cover mine on his neck before dropping when I lean forward, biting his shoulder as I thrust my fingers into my dripping pussy.
Bracing one hand on his thighs, he grips his cock in the other as his growl rips through the night. Licking the blood from his shoulder, my hand tightening on his neck as I lean against him. A shiver arcs through me at the brush of my thumb against my clit, moaning long and low against his skin as the wet sounds from my cunt grow louder.
“Do you feel my pleasure?” I ask him, knowing the answer but wanting to see his reaction.
It doesn’t disappoint. The tension stealing across his body bunches his thick muscles in a display of power that has me moaning.
Smiling when he doesn’t answer, I lick the taut line of his neck, whispering in his ear, “I want your cock inside me, Shamash, but you keep pushing. So I’m going to make myself come, instead. I’m going to fuck my wet cunt until I’m screaming in your ear, and then you’re going to lick my fingers clean.”
He shifts with a growl and I bite his ear, flexing the hand I have wrapped around his throat as I remind him, “Face forward, Shamash. Or I’ll leave you here after I come and find my pleasure elsewhere.”
“These are simple directions, Chosen,” I warn, but his breathless plea sends heat shivering through me.
Eyeing his cock, I add a third finger — I might have been too generous making this Chosen — leaning against him with a breathy groan as I slip them inside my grasping cunt. I’m rough, the way he was earlier, fucking myself with jerky movements that have me rubbing against his back.
The spine, the centerline of our wings, is one of the most sensitive areas for Nasaru, and doubly so for newly Chosen. Every touch has Shamash twitching under me, groans falling from his mouth with every hard thrust of my fingers as I lean against him. Sweat covers his skin, gleaming in the moonlight, and I lick his shoulder.
My low moan echoes in the night, his skin hot against my mouth as I come, shuddering against him. My hand clutches his neck, flexing around his throat, his growl vibrating against my palm. As promised, I lift my wet hand to his mouth, shoving my fingers past his lips. Desperate groans fall from his mouth as he licks them clean, his hand gripping my wrist to keep it there as he sucks on my fingers.
Letting him go, I pull my hand free of his mouth and walk around to the front of him. His eyes are wild, his hands fisted against his thighs. He’s come — probably when I did — his cock, his hands and thighs, covered in glistening cum. He’s already hard again — one of the joys of the Chosen, since we don’t reproduce — and my cunt clenches when the tip weeps as I pull a knife from the ether.
Not mine; this is for Shamash to keep… when I’m done with it. Similar in design, but proportional to his new body, it’s nearly identical to the blade he challenged me with, the plain hilt is short, the tapered blade long and sharp. He recognizes it, his eyes widening as he tracks the gleaming edge cautiously, even as his cock jerks when I set the tip against his chest.
“Lie back,” I tell him, gratified when he does so. The thick length of his cock calls to me as he lays back, shifting cautiously on his wings. They’re not fragile, though, heavy with muscle, and he settles quickly, wary eyes on me.
“You have need to be cautious, Chosen,” I tell him, lifting into the air with a sweep of wings. I don’t stay in the air, though, landing on his chest softly, my knees cushioned by gray wings. My pussy rubs against his chest, and I grind into him as his growl vibrates against me.
Hands over your head, I tell him along our link, and he stiffens under me before lifting both hands to rest above his head. His development is significantly further than what I’m used to for newly Chosen, and I vow to investigate it later. For now, I’m going to fuck my newly Chosen until the ground is wet with his blood and he’s crying out underneath me.
Shamash senses my thoughts, tense under me as I rise to kneel over him, placing his hands so his palms are stacked together before driving the knife through them, burying it to the hilt.
“Fuck!” he yells, and I hold his wrists so he doesn’t tear his hands off the knife.
“Stay still,” I order, holding his wrists until he nods, eyes wide as I straighten over him.
Reaching back, under my wing, I grip his still-hard cock, his hips jerking under me as he shouts. None of his focus is on his hands after one firm stroke, his groan echoing across the water when I squeeze the head before letting go. Leaning forward, I crawl over his big body, his eyes dark with lust when I stop over his face.
“Lick me clean.”
He forgets his hands are pinioned above him at first, tugging them in an abortive movement to grab my hips, but his curse is lost as I lower my cunt to his mouth. His tongue, his lips, even without his hands he devours me, grunts escaping as I grind against him. I cry out when he fucks me with his tongue, lifting his head and shifting under me to get closer, get more.
Shuddering, my climax on the peripheral of my mind, I reach forward, dragging my clit against his face as I pull the knife from his hands.
Bloody hands grab my hips, slicking across my skin from the wounds on his palms. Holding me in place, he licks my clit, sucking it into his mouth before scraping it with the edge of his teeth. Screaming as I come, I drop the knife onto his wing, falling forward to brace against my hand beside it, shaking as he continues to lick my sensitive clit, groaning into my pussy.
Rising up, picking up the knife beside my hand, I push his face away, panting as I meet his feral eyes. A predator watches me from the dark depths and a slow smile crosses my face as I rise above him, standing on his wings as I decide how I want him.
“Let me fuck you.” His demand has the dominance rising in me, and my wings arch as I step back, dropping to hover over his cock.
“Fuck me?” I croon, and he lurches at the sound, the air crackling around us. “I’m taking you, Chosen.”
He’ll figure it out, though.
He cries out when I drive the knife through his wing, pinning him to the ground. Panting, his gaze is avid as I wrap my hands around his cock, the pain forgotten as I stroke him. He thrusts under me as I squeeze the thick length, twitching when I lick my lips. Settling over him, I catch his eyes as I start to lower onto him, slicking the mushroom head of his cock along my dripping slit.
“Fuck, fuck!”
His cries make me smile, his hands rising to my hips, urging me lower but I stay where I am, rubbing my sensitized clit, back and forth as I hold his gaze. His eyes are wild, his hands bruising where he holds me, but I resist, dropping only low enough to tease him with my grasping pussy before rolling my hips. His stifled groan as I slide the head up the length of my cunt has me dropping my head back, my hand holding his cock steady as I use it to come again.
I’m close, mouth open as I rub him against my clit, gasps falling with every pass over the sensitive bundle of nerves. His teeth are gritted, chest heaving as I use him for my own pleasure, and my eyes fall shut as I come, rising to my knees so I can fuck myself with my other hand, squeezing his cock as I cry out, my wings flaring in the moonlight as I come again.
His curses burn the night as he tries to sit up, but I push him back, my fingers wet with my slick.
I’m taking you, Chosen,” I tell him again, leaning forward and Shamash subsides with a groan. My eyes are slitted as I lift my fingers to his mouth.
His wings flare under him, but he opens his mouth obediently, sucking my cum from them with a growl. His teeth nip at my fingertips and I laugh, pulling them from his mouth.
Her taste on my tongue has my heart pounding, a litany of curses falling from my lips as she drops onto my cock. The wet heat of her cunt takes me in increments as she rocks against me. Her eyes close as she pulls up, before dropping back down, and I grit my teeth as she uses me, moans falling from her lips as my cock tunnels into her.
She’s tight, and I’m big, and when I thrust my hips upward those depthless eyes fly open, black as the Void as she gasps. But she takes everything, her greedy pussy grasping and tight around my cock as she finally settles on top of me. She rocks forward, her needy little clit rubbing against my skin, before rising up again. The drag of her pussy against my cock rolls through me like a summer storm.
My hands are hard on her hips as I drag her back down. The scent of blood is thick in the air as my wing shifts under us, the knife stabbed through it sharp enough to cut with every movement, but it’s all pleasure as I sink deeper. She moans as I fuck up into her, her eyes fluttering shut, and I pull her against me, frantic, greedy for sensation.
I debate rising up, ripping the knife from my wing and dragging her under me so I can fuck her deeper, harder. Her eyes open at my hoarse growl, and I shiver at her slow smile. It turns into a full shudder as fear and need tighten in me when another knife appears in her hand.
“Do you serve, Chosen?” She asks quietly, and I groan when she seats herself on me, taking me to the hilt.
“I do,” I growl, bleeding under her, my cock stuffing her pussy so deep she gasps with every thrust.
“Who?” It’s a whisper of sound as she rises, her moan as she drops full of need. Her hair brushes against my balls, draped over my thighs as I thrust into her.
“You, Goddess,” I groan, my new cock eager to come again as she slices into my chest — deeper than I thought she would, the shock as her power heals me leaving me gasping.
“Surely not,” she moans, grinding onto my cock before slicing into me again. I’m healed before the blood has a chance to flow, but I buck against her at the burn of the blade.
Stilling over me, black eyes an endless Void, her whisper resounding with power as she tells me, “I’ve been clear about what I want, Chosen. And yet,” grinding into me again, she smiles when I groan, my hands clamped on her hips, “You aren’t giving it to me.”
“I thought you were taking it?” I mutter, needy in a way I’ve never been before, frustrated that I can’t give her what she needs.
That she won’t let me.
She stills on top of me, eyes narrowed at my insolence, her power rising around us. It crackles in the night, sharp with the scent of the storm, and I raise wide eyes to hers as it drifts over me.
My shout echoes into the night as it drives into my body, my bones, sparking across my skin as it hits with all the force of a lightning strike. My cock jumps as I come, thick strands of cum arcing onto her pussy, poised above me, draping over my stomach and chest as animal sounds fall from my mouth.
I’m blinded, consumed in painful pleasure, every part of me electric. I raise my hand from her hip as another strike hits, shouting as I come again, my cries falling into the night as I writhe under her.
Unutterable pleasure,” she reminds me, burying the second knife she’s formed through my other wing.
The pain ricochets through me, rebounding against the pleasure as she takes my cock to the hilt, and I come again, shuddering as she rolls her hips. Her power is still coursing through me, sparking with every movement, my senses alive like never before, the vision of her over me an epiphany as she takes me.
She comes with a scream as I thrust into her, groaning as her cunt clutches me.
“We leave at dawn in two days’ time,” Inanna tells the Prime clustered around her, “Start packing and be ready.”
A chorus of agreement greets her words and I look around at the forest and mountains, surprised by how easy I am with leaving the land of my birth. I have no living ties, though, and Inanna has already offered a gift to my clan for my Choosing.
Ashur had laughingly suggested a brace of rabbits, Inanna shaking her head with a sigh. She’d given them a young bull from the Comitatus’ herd instead. She’d gone alone; I didn’t see a need to give it at all — my family is dead — but she insisted.
I was also… uneasy.
To be around that life as I am now.
Inanna has changed me, dragging a part of me to the fore that I am not wholly… comfortable with. A part that pants after her like a dog in heat, a misfit piece that likes to be under her, that craves her violence and the surrender she demands.
When she’s not teaching me.
To fly. To write. To read.
About the workings of this world and my new place in it.
Occasionally Tuma and Neith will join our sessions, their more urbane perspective foreign and strange to my own. Rarely, Ashur will join us, his caustic remarks halted for the day as he joins Inanna in teaching us.
But inevitably, Inanna will eventually turn to us, her eyes filled with heat, the air sparking with her electric power. At times she’ll shun me, taking Tuma instead, ignoring my savage jealousy until she’s done with him.
Then she’ll turn to me with a wicked gleam in her depthless black eyes, vicious pleasure as she takes me, my blood on her hands.
I will be glad to leave this place. I’m done with who I was before.
As difficult as this submissive side of me is to accept, my Goddess revels in it. And, unexpectedly… I do as well.
My goal is firmly ahead of me, with time unending to reach it.
Spring, 3439 B.C.
Year of the Choosing 4194
Kneeling beside her, I wonder at Inanna’s thoughtful expression as she looks down on the unfinished Temple. Our connection is closed, but I’ve been with her for millennia now, her face easy to read. She’s restless, concerned about something, and I tense when she turns to me, resting her hand on my shoulder. The electric burn of her touch has never abated, but I expect it.
Crave it.
“I will Become, and not Ashur,” she tells me somberly. I look up at her in shock as she continues, “My power grows, and Ashur’s wings will soon darken to shadow as he becomes the Judge. Your place will not be here when I’m gone. Return to your territory when I go to Become and await my return from there.”
Stunned, I try to think through what she’s saying, but the only thing that remains, echoing through my mind, is that she’s going to Become.
She’s leaving.
“Rise, Chosen. Attend me,” she tells me absently, turning to the cliff edge and stepping off, her silver wings catching the updraft easily as she glides down to the beach. I follow, staggered by her words.
She doesn’t mention it again, and I want to pretend she never did, but Ashur’s caustic impassivity turns deadly when she’s proven right.
Summer, 3439 B.C.
Year of the Choosing 4194
“There’s always a way, Inanna,” Ashur throws over his shoulder, sharp and arrogant as he steps onto the courtyard.
Shaking her head, Inanna follows him out of the aerie, her surprise evident when she catches sight of the small contingent of Chosen in the courtyard. I’m maintaining my distance from the cluster of assholes; Elyas, Devdan and Benjamin together are a volatile mix, all petty violence and bad decisions. They were called by Ashur and I have no business with them.
I straighten from the pillar I’ve been leaning against as I wait for her to finish with Ashur, still debating why they’ve been called. I’m not sure what business Ashur has with these three; he’s never called the Chosen to him, and I doubt he’s suddenly embracing his role as Judge.
Ashur’s never Judged the Chosen, but Goddess knows, between Elyas, Devdan and Benjamin there’s always a Judgment just waiting to happen.
Inanna is my only concern, though — my tense, anxious Goddess — and I make a point to stay near her, going so far as to move into the guest room adjacent to hers. The only time I’m not near her is when she meets with Ashur, a line I’ve drawn because every time I see him, I want to hurt him. The fact that she hasn’t forbid my presence means the Goddess finds some comfort in my presence, and I’m sure to remain unobtrusive.
“What do you come here for, Elyas?” Inanna asks the Chosen with a smile, walking toward him. I’m just waiting for another report to come demanding his Judgment, though; Elyas is a tyrant, unapologetically malevolent. He can’t help but to fuck up and so help me, if he makes my Goddess’ life difficult right now, I will challenge him and rip off his wings.
“We come to meet with Ashur,” he answers, motioning to Benjamin and Devdan behind him. Inanna nods, pleased, but I remain suspicious. Nodding, she turns to Ashur, “I’ll leave you to your meeting, but this isn’t over, Ashur. The time has come and neither of us has a choice.”
Just as she finishes, she staggers under a wave of power. I can feel it cresting within her, a storm of lightning so massive my wings arch in apprehension. There’s nowhere for it to go, though, her connections with many of the Chosen faded, although ours remains, stronger than ever. She won’t let it pass to me, though, grappling with the storm herself, alone.
I wonder if I couldn’t take it somehow, to ease her, as I rush to her side.
Watching for any ill effects, I glance around, Ashur’s clinical expression raising my hackles as she recovers. As she straightens, her black eyes meet mine and I follow as she walks out of the courtyard without another word, an uneasy quiet between us.
She waves to the Temple when it becomes visible past the trees in the distance, “Check the progress on the Temple; ensure they complete the Well by tonight.”
Benjamin and Elyas are dead — Chosen, killed by a Nasaru. They’d faded before my eyes like the simplest of tricks, immortal no more with a flick of Ashur’s wrist.
And Inanna is out of time, her choices stripped away by that shadowed asshole’s betrayal.
As were mine, my gray wings now black as the Void, my mind overflowing with a web of newly formed links. Links with Inanna’s Chosen.
To be Judge? I have no sense of it, but Inanna has commanded, and I will obey.
I’m on my knees, dazed — how did it come to this? — as she stands over me, head thrown back, limned in light. My eyes water from how bright her silver wings are, electricity flowing through them as she channels her power.
She pushes one last wave to me, the overflowing well inside her nearly emptied. I do as she’s told me, sending it out along the links to the other Chosen instead of keeping it.
She pauses, and I reach along our connection, sliding into the wilds of her mind until she surrounds me. She releases my hands moments later, and I open my eyes when she kicks me out, closing our connection with a finality that means she’s leaving soon.
And I don’t know when she’ll return.
Instinct has me grabbing a hold of her, but she pushes me back, “No, Shamash.” Her voice is the moon and stars above me, soft as the night and just as fleeting.
I shake my head to clear it as she takes my wrists in each hand, falling to her knees before me. She’s glowing, her silver wings radiant, and I want to cover her with my own, to stop this. I don’t know what’s coming next, my heart pounding out of my chest as I try to focus.
“I leave to Become, Shamash.” Her whispered words hold the same fear I feel, but also a growing wonder. To me, though, they are ominous — dire, final — and I shake my head again, this time in denial.
But she is leaving, her words echoing across my mind like ripples on a pond, “Yes. You are my Judge. Honor my words. Beware Ashur, but do not fear him — I will bind his power against you. Hear me well, Shamash: Leave his Judgment until I Become.”
Inanna knows me too well, but Ashur is powerful, and that is not a fight that I would win. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t pursue it.
She reaches for my head and I still as she brushes my hair back, her eyes pensive, earnest as she tells me, “Judge the Chosen as I would, but avoid the affairs of the Prime. Guard what is mine, Judge. I will provide more power to you as I Become; next time, keep all you can and give the rest away.”
I close my eyes as she absently continues to stroke my temple, “Keep this now.” She pulls another wave of power from her nearly dry well, smaller than the ones before, and I take it, holding it with effort, watching in amazement as sparks fly from my wings.
Inanna kisses me, soft and full of promise, closing her eyes. At first I’m afraid she’s leaving now, but then I feel her along our connection, heavy and intent as she builds it, forging a link so thick and sure I think she must mean to tie me to her.
Everything in me welcomes it, and I black out as my soul reaches for her, Inanna’s whispered words echoing across time, “Guard what is mine, Judge. Keep yourself; I will return to you.”

Adrienne isn’t from any one location, but she currently resides in sunny California. She’s lived in roughly half of the states in the Southern USA (East and West) and has seen some of the world, but not nearly enough. Travel is hard with a menagerie of one dog, three cats, and a snake, though, so she and her husband have to choose wisely.


Writing is a new endeavor, but exciting, and she’s currently working on Book 2 of the Nasaru of Earth series, Chosen.

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