The Other Side

Before Lucrezia Borgia died, she made sure to have a priest at the ready. It was her eighth child and she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to make it through this one.

Having committed more sins than she could remember, including murder, incest and, well – too many to remember, actually – she thought it wise to make a full confession and prepare her soul to meet its maker

Her brother *had* been extremely handsome and her first husband, Giovanni, *had* been an absolute ass, and though Lucrezia secretly felt that she’d had no choice in her actions, she confessed them all nonetheless, with as sincere a dose of contrition as she could muster.

With the child dead in her belly and the priest making the sign of the cross and murmering ‘Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen’, she felt it was time to shrug off this mortal coil and take her chances in the hereafter.

* * *

It came as quite a shock to her that, when she woke, it wasn’t to the sound of a heavenly chorus angelorum, or even the pressing interrogation of Saint Peter at the gates. She woke on the banks of a sluggish, stinking canal that might have passed for a river, in the dark, with nothing but a weak lantern hanging from a pole to give her comfort.

An old woman sat on a rickety dock, which spanned out into the foul-smelling water, dangling her crippled old feet in it and singing.

‘Am I dead?’ Lucrezia called out in the woman’s direction.

The old hag turned around, toothless mouth agape, and – more disturbing still – stared at her with two large coins where her eyes should have been. ‘Of course you are, my dear. Have a bit of patience.’

‘Patience?’ huffed Lucrezia. ‘Where’s Saint Peter? Where’s the gate? I made a good confession before I died. There’s no excuse for this!’

‘Oh, deary dear. You’re one of them Christians.’

‘Of course I am. What else would I be?’

The old woman groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and waddled back across the dock’s rotting timbers and up the side of the bank.

‘Well, that’s a question, ain’t it? You could be a Muslim or a Jew. Or one of them Hindus. You could be lots of things, but maybe not.’ She gave Lucrezia a good once-over, and inhaled deeply, her lungs wheezing. ‘Nah, you’re absolutely right. Don’t know how I could’ve missed it. Christian for sure.’

‘I would hope so!’ This old crone was half-batty and wasting her time, Lucrezia decided, but there was absolutely no one else around to talk to.

Hobbling over to where Lucrezia sat on a patch of scrubby grass, the old woman settled down beside her. ‘This may come as something of a shock, my dear.’ She pawed Lucrezia’s hand in some absurd attempt at comfort. ‘Wrong religion.’

‘What?’ It was very disconcerting to try and communicate with someone who had no eyes. The coins glinted in the lantern-light.

‘Sorry. You’re sore disappointed, I’m sure. All that abstinence and self-sacrifice, all them painful hours praying on yer knees.’ The crone tut-tutted and patted one of Lucrezia’s legs. ‘Hell on the old rheumatism, I’m sure.’

‘Get your hand off me. I don’t have rheumatism, you batty old woman! And I demand to know what you mean by ‘wrong religion’. There’s only one true faith.’ She brushed invisible impurities off her dark red velvet gown.

The crone cackled. ‘That’s what they all say. You young folk, always rushing, rushing ahead!’

Lucrezia decided to take another tack. ‘Where are we, exactly?’

‘On the banks of the Styx. Ain’t ya even heard tell of it in stories?’

She had, of course. Damn those Greeks! Was there no getting rid of them?

‘So…’ Lucrezia chose her words carefully, ‘there’s no heaven?’

‘Nah.’

‘No hell?’

‘Well…not exactly.’

Lucrezia breathed a sigh of relief. After all, confession or not, she’d done some pretty awful things and had to admit that she’d been a little worried about not getting into heaven. ‘Then, what is there?’

The old woman heaved a few times and appeared to be choking but, as it turned out, it was her version of a laugh. ‘There’s this,’ the crone said, nodding at the ground they sat on, ‘and there’s that.’

Her gaze stretched out over the dark waters.

‘This or that?’

‘Yes. Either you stay ‘ere, or ya get to cross over.’

‘Cross over to where?’

The crone, still looking into the distance, smiled toothlessly. ‘To whatever you deserve, my dear.’

‘Oh!’

The bronzed eyes rounded on Lucrezia. ‘Got a smutty story for me, then? I do love a good smutty tale. Heaps of lovers, is it? Bit of fratricide?’

Lucrezia waved her questions away. ‘So what are you doing here? Why haven’t you crossed over?’

‘Me?’ The old woman smirked. ‘Waitin’ on me old man, ain’t I? He’ll be along shortly. The plague took me, ya see? So he’s not far behind.’

Grimacing, Lucrezia shifted, putting a little distance between them.

‘Oh, how awful for you!’ Not that she cared, actually, but it sounded good. ‘So, how does one get to the other side.’

‘Phlegyas.’

‘God bless!’ quipped Lucrezia and moved a little further away. Since the rules of the game had changed, she had no reason to believe she was immune to earthly ailments.

‘No, you stupid cow! Phlegyas, the ferryman. Some call him Charon.’

‘Oh. What exactly does this Phleg…- Charon do?’

‘Takes ya to the other side, don’t he? That’s assuming you got the right fare.’

‘Fare?’

‘Well he don’t take ya for nothing! Where’d the profit be in that?’

Even without eyes, Lucrezia could tell the woman took her for a half-wit. The old crone tapped one of the coins embedded in her eye sockets. ‘See? Good coin of the realm, this is. One for me, and one for me old man.’

‘But I don’t have any fare,’ Lucrezia said, slighty worried. She looked at the rings on her hands. ‘I’ve got some jewellery. I guess that might do. This ruby here is from India. Big as a quail’s egg, I’m told.’

The old woman looked at it and sniffed. ‘Never seen a quail’s egg. He’s not much for bartering, I’ve heard. Got anything else?’

Lucrezia looked down at herself. Between her ample milky breasts hung a jewel-encrusted cross. She picked it up so the old woman could see.

‘Nah. That’s in very bad taste, I’d say. Don’t even want to think about trying to use that.’

Suddenly the crone’s attention shifted and she looked out into the inky blackness. ‘Well, you’ll find out soon enough. Here he comes now.’

Across the black surface, there was a faint swishing of water that grew progressively louder. A wooden prow slid into the light of the lantern.

‘Go on then!’ The crone got up and tugged at Lucrezia’s arm. ‘Go down to ‘im and plead your case.’

Standing up, Lucrezia felt her knees wobble a little. The old woman’s words had disconcerted her. But she pushed her fears out of her mind.

Head up, chin up! You’re Lucrezia Borgia, for God’s sake! You’re not going to let some insignificant peasant of a ferryman scare you!

In as dignified a manner as she could muster, Lucrezia made her way down to the landing, lifting the hem of her richly brocaded robe, as she walked the length of the creaking wooden dock.

He wasn’t at all what she expected. The man who stood in the bow of the boat was – well – quite a man. Over six feet tall and well muscled; his bare arms and chest gleamed golden in the light of the lantern. A mane of smooth ebony hair hung around his shoulders, and his chiselled jaw gave him the most heroic of silhouettes.

‘Are you Charon?’ asked Lucrezia, trying to keep the syrup of lust out of her voice.

‘I am.’

Oh, his voice was deep and rich. She could imagine how wonderful it would feel reverberating between her legs. But, she chided herself, to the business at hand.

‘Will you take me to the other side?’ She raised a delicate eyebrow and allowed herself a slight, seductive smile – *that* always got her what she wanted.

‘Do you have the fare?’ His gaze roamed her body and he returned her smile with one of his own.

‘Well, I’ve got this.’ Lucrezia pulled one of her most precious rings off her fingers and held it out to him. The red gem flashed a crimson beam into the darkness as the light caught it.

He glanced at the ring and shook his head. ‘Not really my type of thing.’

‘What about this one,’ she said, a little edge of panic creeping into her voice. She tugged another ring off her finger. This one was a sapphire, rounded and starred in the centre. Again she held it up for his inspection.

Charon gave her a pained look. ‘I’m just not a ring man. You know, some men do, some men don’t. Me? I’m not big on accessorizing.’

‘But… I don’t… Oh! Then what about this?’ Her hand trembled slightly as she reached between her breasts and dangled the decorated crucifix.

At first, Lucrezia thought she’d managed to tempt him. A smile crossed his handsome face, and then his gaze shifted a little, to the cross. ‘Sorry, no. They’re all luxury goods. Just haven’t got any use for them around here.’

Crestfallen, Lucrezia shifted her weight from one leg to the other. There really wasn’t much else of value to offer him. Clearly her robe wasn’t going to interest him. He seemed far too manly for that, although, you never really knew; her second husband had been fond of a romp in a corset.

‘Show me your legs.’

‘My what?’ Lucrezia looked up, a little taken aback. ‘Legs? Oh, all right. If you insist.’

Grasping the hem of her heavy gown, she pulled it up, revealing a pretty pair of embroidered slippers and two very shapely calves.

‘More,’ said Charon. ‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Mind? Not at all. Not at all.’ Lucrezia’s mind began to race. It couldn’t be that easy. If all this man wanted was a bit of a tumble, who was she to deny him his ride, as long as she got hers in return. She hefted her robe higher, exposing her pale, slender thighs.

The cool night air caressed her legs like the softest silk, and she couldn’t help but notice that Charon was grinning now, his gaze riveted on her creamy legs. And if his expression didn’t inform her of his approval, the bulge growing steadily in his workman’s breeches did. She shifted her weight a little, the skin of her thighs sliding softly against each other.

Off in the distance, Lucrezia heard a cackle. She looked behind her. The old woman was sitting on the bank, her legs stretched out in front of her, laughing. ‘That’s it, my dear. Give him an eyeful of your real charms!’

Lucrezia blushed despite herself and looked back at Charon. She bit her lip and pulled her skirt up further, exposing the neat, dark triangle of her pussy. ‘So, is there something here we might trade?’

Charon licked his lips and nodded, his gaze pinned to her privates. ‘Oh, I think so. Get in the boat,’ he growled.

Lowering her skirt, Lucrezia stepped into the little boat. It wobbled as she did, and Charon caught her arm to steady her. What a manly grip he had, she thought. This was a price that suited her very well.

She noticed, as she settled herself in the boat, that her nipples were swelling and tingling almost painfully against the stitching of her brocaded velvet bodice. She watched the boatman’s muscles flex until they disappeared as he punted them out into the darkness.

For a while, she could hear nothing but the swish of water and the deep, even rhythm of his breathing. The longer she sat in the boat, the greater her lust grew. Visions of his strong, muscled ass, flexing as he fucked her, forced a little gasp from between her lips. When, oh, when would he take his due?

Eventually the punting stopped and Lucrezia sucked her lower lip in anticipation. She reached up and tugged at the laces of her bodice, letting it slip off her shoulders. The boat rocked and she could feel him close to her, buttons popped and a hand grabbed the back of her head, pressing her face against a bare and raging cock.

‘Suck it,’ a voice grunted in the darkness.

She didn’t need directions. Lucrezia loved nothing better than the taste of a big, thick dick. Almost at once she engulfed the mushroom-headed treat that was offered to her. As she licked and sucked, he forced himself further and further into her mouth. But she wasn’t some convent-schooled virgin. She knew how to take it and more. Breathing through her nose, she felt his swelling cock push through into her throat, over and over.

Both his hands were on her head, working his hips, fucking her mouth. He grunted with pleasure and the little boat swayed rhythmically as his pace grew more and more frenzied.

She loved being used this way, it brought out the deep red slut in her nature. She clutched his hips and guided him down her throat until, all at once, he shouted and stiffened.

A flood of hot cum shot down her gorge, and he pressed her nose into his pubic hair as he jerked. A second and a weaker third pulse of fiery liquid flooded her mouth. Lucrezia gulped his cum down greedily, and as the spurts abated, she purred her delight at his satisfaction.

He pulled his cock from her mouth with a pop. ‘My, you’re something of a pleasant surprise.’

Lucrezia licked her lips loud enough for him to hear. ‘You’ve got quite a tasty treat.’

She reached up to caress his cock, almost sad that her fare had been paid. To her surprise, it was as erect as it had been before he’d come. ‘And an appetite, too!’

‘You have no idea,’ he moaned. He pushed her thighs apart and knelt between her legs. The water lapped softly as the craft rocked.

Before she could even ask for it, she felt the hot head of his prick nudging her pussy lips aside. ‘Oo-oh,’ she purred. ‘More for me?’

‘Hot and wet. Just the way I like it,’ Charon panted. He thrust into her aching cunt in a single, masterful stroke. ‘Tight, too.’

Lucrezia was well beyond words. She was quite sure that she’d never had a cock this delicious inside of her. He was huge and slightly curved upwards and, as he drew himself out, the tip stroked her in such a way as to drive her wild.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and matched him thrust for thrust, moaning and writhing beneath him. He was just too, too delicious. She’d never been fucked so well in her life. All too soon, she was bucking and clutching at his well-formed ass. Drenching him in her juices, she came in a torrent of invectives.

‘You like this?’ he panted, his own muscles straining for release.

‘I love it. I’ve never…ever… oh, fuck, you’re good, Charon!’

Just then, he shoved his dick in as far as it would go and flooded her with his heat.

For a while, he lay on top of her, panting. And still the damnable tool between his legs didn’t flag. Before she could object, he pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, and pushed into her ass.

She’d had her share of buggery, but Charon was huge, and it took her a while to relax her muscles enough to adjust to his size. When she did, it was as if she’d died and gone to heaven. Well, figuratively speaking, anyway.

Pushing herself back against him, she got onto her hands and knees and let him ride her. His thick dick buried itself deliciously and, even though she didn’t ever remember coming this way, a huge orgasm swept over her. Every muscle in her body convulsed.

‘Yeah, fuck. Oh yeah!’ he grunted, emptying himself into her bowels.

When they’d rested a while, he pulled out of her. It stung a little, as his cock seemed just as erect as when he penetrated her.

‘Phew, you just don’t stop. Do you?’ Lucrezia gasped.

‘Not me. I’m always ready.’

‘I can see that.’

‘Want to go for a swim?’ It might have been a question, but he was already tugging her open gown off her. ‘Come on, you’ll love it.’

Before she could give him an answer, or voice her doubts about the cleanliness of the water, he’d pushed her overboard and slipped in after her.

His body was all around her. He kissed her and pushed her against the side of the boat, pulling one of her legs around his hips and plunging into her cunt again.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful, and he was a magnificent stud of a lover. But as he pounded away at her in the water, Lucrezia began to get a little sore. Still she came, clutching on to his strong arms and shoulder.

When he was finished, he helped her back into the boat. They lay for a while, side by side, in the bottom. Then, without even asking, he pulled her on top of him and began to fuck her again.

This time she was just too damn tired. She tried to be a good sport and, for a while, she rode his cock with some spirit. But after a minute or two, she just didn’t have the energy. Collapsing onto his chest, he grabbed her hips and pumped up inside her, doing all the work for her.

He came and she could feel the hot liquid leaking out of her very sore pussy.

‘This…this has been very nice, Charon. You’re one heck of a lover, but I assume my debt has been paid. I’d like you to take me to the other side now.’

She heard a deep, warm chuckle rise from his chest, and he pulled her off of him. She lay beside him in the dark, impatient for him to get up and start punting. It couldn’t be that far across the river.

To her surprise, he rolled her onto her stomach again, kneed her legs apart and slid his cock back into her still-tender ass. He sheathed himself in one smooth shove that made her gasp, this time in pain.

‘Hey, I’m not kidding. Take me to the other side!’

She felt his lips next to her ear, breathing heavily, as his muscles prepared for another deep thrust.

‘You’re already there, Lucrezia.’

(This story is also available as a podcast, courtesy of Author Nobilis. You can listen to it HERE)