208: Having It Out

on May 2, 2008 in Book 8

In Which Mackenzie Has The Chicken Again

“I’m okay!” I yelled, in the direction of the locked door, which Ian was pounding on. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, and my breath was coming ragged and hard. I wanted to say something else, some bit of explanation, but words were coming together in my mouth grudgingly. “I’m okay!”

“Oh, shit,” Feejee said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… we’re dead. We are dead. They’re going to kill us. We’re dead.”

“Shut up!” Iona said, her voice gone squeaky. “For fuck’s sake, shut up!”

“Mackenzie?” Ian shouted, sounding more curious than frantic. “Can you open the door?”

“Wait,” Iona said to me. “Wait a second. Nobody fucking do anything.”

“We’re fucked,” Feejee said. “We’re fucked.”

“I’m coming, Ian!” I said.

I got up off the bench and lunged towards the door. The room seemed to lunge in the opposite direction I moved, and I fell over the trough of heat stones and banged the hell out of my shin. The thump and involuntary cry of pain resulted in another round of pounding on the door and a shout of “Open up!”

“I’m fine!” I said. “I’m coming!”

It wasn’t a picnic walking with a barked shin, to say nothing of the still-blistering pain in my crotch, but I waddled and hobbled my way over. My legs were having a hard time understanding where I wanted them to go, which was possibly related to the pain.

My head was a bit cottony and my skin was tingling where the mermaids’ teeth had been. It wasn’t completely unpleasant. I felt warm all over.

I made it over to the door, standing to the side as I opened it so I wouldn’t be in direct sight of the opening. I jumped even further away when I saw the crowd of curious people, human boys and dwarves, gathered in an arc a short distance away.

Ian looked ready to charge in swinging, but he stopped short at the threshold. He was looking at Feejee and Iona, who both looked like they’d been caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

“Oh,” he said. His eyes narrowed a bit. “Right. Of course.”

I realized he must have thought we’d been having sex, or something. Three girls, moaning and screaming, nudity… it wasn’t too big a stretch.

“It’s not what it looks like!” I blurted out, before realizing that what it looked like was probably a lot better than what it was.

“Yeah, it so isn’t,” Feejee said, holding up her hands and shifting her legs back to the sexless, albeit shapely, scaled form. “We weren’t… I mean, we were just… you have to understand, I have a boyfriend. And I’m very happy with him.”

“Oh, come on. It’s exactly what it looks like,” Iona said. “Hope that’s okay?”

“Yeah, no offense, but I’ve heard this song before,” Ian said to Feejee. “And I’m getting pretty sick of it.”

“No, but…” Feejee started to say.

“Come on, Fee,” Iona said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not make this into a bigger thing than it is. We were just having some harmless fun… experimenting. Right, Mack?”

“I don’t really care,” Ian said. “Okay? I don’t care whether you call yourself a lesbian or what. I’ve beat my head against this wall enough times in the past few weeks. I’m not interested in doing it any more. I just want to talk to my girlfriend… alone.”

“Come on,” Iona said again, pulling Feejee towards the door. She looked at me. “Remember, don’t say anything you might regret.”

Ian stepped aside to let them past. His eyes were on me. His face was blank and unreadable… but his eyes might as well have been letters fifty feet high, and they said, “You and me, we are gonna have this thing out.”

“We’ll talk later,” Feejee said to me as they left.

“What the hell did you mean, running off like that?” Ian asked, after he’d closed the door. “I looked all over for you… I didn’t know where you were or what happened.”

“Well, you kind of left me standing there all by myself,” I said.

“I left you standing where I could see you,” he raged. “I was only going to talk to those guys for like five minutes and then come right back. Five minutes!”

“You were already gone longer than that when I left,” I said. “And you must not have been watching very closely if you didn’t see me heading downstairs.”

“But if you’d stayed where you were, I could have looked over and seen that you were okay,” Ian said. “When I saw you were gone, I went tearing through the side tunnels and the cubbies, looking for you… I didn’t know if you were getting charmed or raped or attacked or what!”

“Well, kee, I’m so freaking sorry I turned out to be okay,” I said. “Next time, I’ll make sure something bad happens, okay? How’s that? Is that better?””

“I was worried about you, you thoughtless bitch,” Ian yelled.

I sucked in a sharp breath. My hand trailed down my stomach to the painfully tender folds of my pussy. They were extremely sensitive to the touch after the abuse Iona had wrought upon them.

“Oh, that’s right,” Ian said, throwing up his hands. “You’re going to get off… again… on this.”

“I’m not!” I said, jerking my hand away. “I’m just… sore.”

I saw a hint of jealousy in his eyes, but he pushed it away with anger.

“You want to hit me?” I asked, stepping forward and turning my head slightly. “Go ahead… hit me.”

“I want you to take this seriously,” Ian said. “I want you to take me seriously. I told you to wait and you didn’t. You said it was my choice when the chains came off and then you ditched them without a second thought.”

“If you just wanted me to be your little slave girl for the night…”

“I didn’t,” Ian said. “I don’t. But if you didn’t want to wear them, you should have said so… and if you say something is up to me, I expect you to honor it. Khersis, Mack, that should be pretty basic.”

I stared at him, not knowing what to say to that.

“You left me alone!” I finally said.

“For five minutes!” he countered. “While I talked to a bunch of guys you didn’t want anything to do with… and by the way, all the shit you’ve said about beer and drinking looks kind of different now, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “All I had was one beer thing.”

This struck me as being slightly wrong… but I definitely hadn’t had more beers than the one.

“Well, I guess that was enough,” Ian said. “You’re pretty well plastered.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. I felt fine. A little bit woozy, a little bit wobbly, maybe, but not plastered.

“Sure you don’t,” Ian said. He shook his head. “The words ‘fucking hypocrite’ come to mind.”

“I’m not allowed to change my mind?” I asked. “Is that it? I can’t decide to have a drink with my friends if I decide to… to… make that decision?”

“You came to the party with me,” Ian said. “So, yeah, I think you’re not allowed to run off with a couple of your girlfriends I don’t even know without telling me where you’re going, lock yourself naked in a room with them, and scream like you’re being murdered while I’m running around frantically trying to find you. It really sounded like you were dying. Were you honestly enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah!” I said, and after a moment I realized it was true. “I really was.”

Okay, I wouldn’t have chosen for Iona to chow down in the precise place she had, but up until that point… it had been incredible. Terrifying, but wonderful.

“And that’s why they were howling like bansidhes and you were squealing like a stuck pig?” Ian asked. “Because you were having such a good time?”

I glared at him. Why was he being such an asshole about this? I had just told him I was having a good time. What was so hard to understand about that?

“Mackenzie, if they were doing something you didn’t like…”

“Oh, whatever,” I said, feeling this was a bad line to let the conversation continue down. “The only reason you’re acting like this,” I continued, feeling a wave of pre-emptive triumph washing over me in advance of my absolutely winning the argument, “is because you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Ian echoed.

“Because I get the hot girls and you don’t,” I said. “I have Amaranth and Feejee and Iona and Steff. Who do you have?”

Ian snorted. His hands twitched at his sides, fists opening and closing, and then… he laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are. You’re so fucked up right now, Mackenzie,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, you tell yourself that,” I said. “Because you know it’s true.”

He put a hand on his head and ran his fingers through his hair. His nostrils were flaring. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Actually, he looked like he wanted to yell something else. He didn’t.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re leaving. I’m taking you back to Harlowe, right now, before you do something really dumb.”

“No,” I said.


“No,” I said. “I don’t want to leave.”

“You didn’t even want to stay long in the first place.”

“Don’t tell me what I want to do!” I said, pulling my arm away. The sudden motion made the world dip a little bit, so I sat down on the floor. “I’m having fun. It’s nice and warm in here.”

“You have to get up early tomorrow,” he said. “Remember?”

“So I’ll sleep here.”

“You’ll sleep in a steam room in the dwarven hall?”

“Yes,” I said. It didn’t sound like a terrible plan, all things considered, and just to prove my point, I laid down on my side and stretched out. The room was nice and warm and if the floor wasn’t actually comfortable, then it was comfortingly stable. “Just turn the dial back up to eleven when you leave.”

“Get up off the floor, Mackenzie,” he said.


“Get up.”

“Don’t make me kick your ass,” I said.

He snorted again.

“Don’t you scoff. I’m stronger than you,” I said. “Faster. Tougher.”

“Mackenzie, you don’t have any clue how to fight and you trip over your own feet on a daily basis,” Ian said. “Come on. Quit fucking around and get up.”

“I let you hit me,” I reminded him.

“You do,” he said. “Come on. Get up.”

“I’ll get up,” I said, getting to my feet. Well, to my knees. The feet were a work in progress. I lunged towards him anyway, and ended up on my face.

Ian laughed.

“Don’t you laugh at me,” I said. “I’ll fucking take you apart.” I tried to push myself up to at least halfway upright. It took me a while to figure out that the arm I was trying to use was stuck underneath me. “Help me up.”

He strode around beside me and grabbed my hair. I gasped with pleasure—I think—as he yanked me back up into a sitting position and then breathed hard as he pulled me to my feet.

“You want to fight, bitch?” he asked, his voice gone husky.

“I’ll kick your ass,” I told him again.

He twisted my hair and then shoved me sideways and let go. My face hit the wall. Bright spots filled my vision and the world lurched funnily while I fell backwards onto the floor.

“I can’t fuck around with you, Mackenzie,” he said. “I love you, but I can’t. If you ever take a swing at me, I’ll sign your ass into the wall and then put you down hard, whether I think you’re going to connect or not. I can’t afford to take the chance.”

The words washed over me without touching me. I was listening to his voice, not his meaning. One of my hands was on my breast, squeezing. The other was looking without much success for my pussy, which was throbbing.

“Do you understand me, Mackenzie?” he asked, peering down at me through miles and miles of fog.

“Stomp on my face,” I breathed up at him. “Please.”

“Get up,” Ian said. “Get up,” he growled, when I didn’t move, and the toe of his shoe nudged me hard in the side. I rolled over and got up on my hands and knees.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Stand up and walk,” he said.

“But I wanna fuck,” I said, stretching out and giving my ass a wiggle in Ian’s direction. He responded by kicking me again, in a place that was already pretty sore to begin with. I whimpered and squirmed, my eyes watering and rolling back in my head.

“Move,” he said.

I moved. He put his hand on the door handle.

“Do you want me to get your clothes?” he asked, looking down at me. “Or do you even care if you go out there naked?”

“I want to fuck you,” I said, looking up at him. I rubbed my face against his jeans.

The smell of him… separate and distinct from the smell of humanity which hung throughout the area… was intoxicating. I wanted him so badly in that moment. I wanted him to pound into me, never mind the pain. Never mind anything. I wanted to be fucked. I wanted to be taken.

“I’m only going to ask one more time,” he said. “And then I’m dragging you out there. Answer me: do you want me to get your clothes?”

I looked up at him for a long time. He looked down. Him above, me below. It was so perfect. It was so right. I opened my mouth to tell him I loved him.

Mead and bits of chicken and pork spilled out all over his foot.

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6 Responses to “208: Having It Out”

  1. pedestrian says:

    Yeah that’s always going to impress a date.

    Come to think of it, an easy drunk is every frat boys wet dream.

    That’s why they invented Southern Comfort/Rum&Cola

    Most of you kids reading this have no idea of the real stories of your conceptions. Even if your parents could themselves remember.

    Current score: 0
    • BlackWizard says:

      I wouldn’t say it was EVERY frat boys dream. I used to hang with a frat that loved to party & would get drunk, sloppy drunks, both male & FEMALE, would be summarily looked thrown out of the party and were looked upon with more disgust than predatory.

      Current score: 2
    • Athena says:

      Actually, both my parents were literally asleep at the time. Lot of late nights at the computer labs and rather packed university schedules, but the bodies knew what to do even if the minds weren’t involved 😛

      Yeah… my parents were very open about sex XD I can also guarantee the non-involvement of alcohol for a minimum of one side of the exchange anyway, because my mother has cluster headaches, and was by that point already basically constantly on do-not-mix-with-alcohol painkillers.

      Current score: 1
  2. Cadnawes says:

    I still think this is entirely ian’s fault. He abandoned his date. That was no five minutes. And if he thinks she can be trusted to safeword out when she doesn’t want to do something then I don’t know what story HE’S been reading.

    Vulnerable girl with no willpower plus beer bash equals you’re lucky this is all that heppened.

    Current score: 4
  3. Jechtael says:

    Mackenzie does NOT handle her alcohol well. I wonder if it’s a her thing or a half-demon thing.

    As for fault: That belongs to (in no particular order) her, Ian, Feejee, and Ionna.

    Current score: 0
    • Anon says:

      I think it’s mostly a ‘drank half a bottle of dwarven mead’ thing. That shit’s gotta be at least 80 proof, and Mackenzie is not exactly a large girl. She was quite definitely over the eight, with no prior experience.

      Current score: 0