When Zatanna woke up the first thing she knew was that she wasn’t alone in her inner sanctum.
“Buck?” she murmured with a smile on her sleepy lips.
She felt warm and cosy lying in the fog of sex that blanketed the room. Zatanna could feel a teasing breeze across her exposed breasts and cunt, could feel her thigh high leather boots had remained on her legs and her frockcoat, somehow, on her back but everything else was gone.
“Buck?” she called out a bit louder, eager to hear his response: a call for more sex, she hoped.
“Buck?” a faint line creased her smooth brow at the lack of response. Zatanna tried to open her eyes and failed; she needed strength. She gasped and arched her back as her lungs filled with the sex stained air from, how long ago?
“Morning,” came the female reply.
Zatanna’s eyes snapped wide open and the colour drained from her face when she saw Lady Blackhawk perched on the edge of her study table; had Buck really taken her across that last night? Zatanna was sure he had – how it had groaned in protest and how she had moaned in favour.
“Finally, you’re awake. God! What the Hell has happened her, Zee? It’s like the Blitz in here… and that smell! You need windows.”
Zatanna wasn’t listening to the blonde World War Two aviatrix, her eyes were scouring the room for Buck, her Buck; not that her eyes ought to need to scour in such a small room to find a living, breathing satyr like Buck! The room did look like a bomb had hit it she had to admit and what a bomb!
“Buck?” she whispered in her confusion.
“What book?” asked Lady Blackhawk, looking around at the scattered library on the floor. “Is this some after effect of a spell?”
Suddenly Zatanna became all to aware of her sex stained nakedness and the puzzled look on Lady Blackhawk’s face… Lady Blackhawk’s very kissable face, Zatanna corrected herself, not to mention that firm female body beneath it. She purred and didn’t cover herself up completely; she had a hot body too!
“I…” I need to fuck you. No, too direct. I need… to seduce you… hmm better but she needs to be reeled in first. I… need an explanation she’ll buy to buy me more time. “… was researching some… sex magic,” she added a touch of coyness to the end to elicit some sympathy and it worked!
Lady Blackhawk sighed, got off the table and crossed to give Zatanna a hand up from her bed of semen scented scattered parchments.
“Zee, you don’t need to dabble in sex magic. You’re a very attractive, funny, smart young woman.”
Zatanna took the proffered hand and pulled herself up, close to Lady Blackhawk. Her frockcoat fell away from her breasts as she did so and her firm, proud tits jutted out for the blonde heroine to admire all she liked.
Lady Blackhawk reached out and closed the coat.
“Didn’t this used to have buttons?” she asked when she found that it wouldn’t close.
“I’m sure there somewhere,” Zatanna said unconcerned. “Please, leave it open. My body could do with that cooling breeze,” or your hot tongue and strong hands!
“Are you okay? ‘cause you’re acting weird. Perhaps I should call –“
“No! Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap but, please, no. I… I don’t want anyone else to know I was… well being a little silly,” again another coy barb to pull Lady Blackhawk in.
“Your hair looks like its had a thousand volts put through it and your face is all strea –“ Lady Blackhawk clasped a white gloved hand to her mouth and her blue eyes opened wide. “Oh, My God! Zee, I’m… I’m so sorry. Were you… you know… R. A. P. E.”
“No!” Zatanna cut across Lady Blackhawk’s embarrassment. “It just got a little wild. That’s all.”
“But, Zee.”
“What? I’ve got to be a virgin all my life. Please, Zinda, I’ve got urges like everyone else.”
Zatanna picked an imaginary fleck of fluff off one of Lady Blackhawk’s epaulettes and inched a little closer as she did so. Her sex was starting to swell and seep with the proximity of the tall, blonde heroine in her leggy leather uniform and short skirt.
Lady Blackhawk may have been born and raised before the Second World War in a strict, conformist household to be as a lady should be back then but she wasn’t unaware of the real world and the different types of women who lived in it. She’d known Zatanna a couple of years and felt she had a handle on the young magician: publically showy yet privately quiet, kind, caring and above all restrained in her real emotions, not the camouflage she sent out as part of her act. Strong willed for sure yet here was a shy girl still with doubts about herself; not surprising given the power she wields! It didn’t surprise Zinda that Zatanna had little experience of men, or was a virgin still. Her travelling lifestyle and fear of abusing her powers in an emotional explosion would wreck anyone’s sex life. In all of those two year, however, she’d never thought that Zatanna might be ‘one of those’ girls as her old school friends had called ‘them’ nor so attracted to her! It had to be a crush or some newfangled fad they had 'these days'; a tern Zinda used whenever she felt things had been better in her day.
Zinda took both of Zatanna’s shoulders in her hands.
“Zee, you don’t need hexes or hocus pocus to find love.”
“I know that now,” said Zatanna angling her face to look up with wide dark eyes at Zinda, “I need,” her lips quivered, “real flesh, real passion in my arms… you did say you found me attractive, Zinda, and… I think you’re… you’d be kind.”
The parting compliment killed the quick response Zinda had been forming as she gazed into Zatanna’s wide eyes, as innocent as any Lolita’s, and beautiful, streaked face framed in her thick black hair.
“Zee, I... I think you are beautiful, very beautiful but I don’t, can’t swing that way,” Zinda would have been dishonourably discharged for just holding Zatanna as she was doing right now back in her day and the social stigma! “You’ve got to understand. I’m… ‘old fashioned’.”
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed off,” Zatanna said. “those days are gone.”
Zee was so right, Zinda admitted. Those days were gone and time marched on into a new world of opportunities and fads. Would a single kiss kill her?
“I’m sorry,” Zinda said with some effort but who to she wasn’t sure. She pushed Zatanna away softly and slipped aside to put a few feet between herself and the semi-naked siren who called for her.
“I won’t mention this at all… ever. I have to go. Hal wanted to see me about the new Blackhawk plane.”
That was a lie but lying was better than the truth, whatever that was. “Perhaps you should find those buttons and tidy up, bye.”
Zinda was out the door in a shot, leaving Zatanna fuming in her impotence.
Outside, Zinda pressed her forehead against the cool walls of the Halls of Justice and tried to control her shacking. God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Never! Never! Never had she felt so… so… not since… not since Blake took her in his arms and proposed. Oh, God! Not since then. She could see the ring. She tried to remember that night. The sky had been as black as Zatanna’s hair, the moon like her face and the South China Sea shimmering like her body, inviting in the hot heady evening, but she couldn’t see Blake’s face. Eyes scrunched until they hurt she couldn’t see his face or smell his aftershave or feel his hands upon her, just her hands on those soft round shoulders of the girl in the other room. Zinda pushed off the wall and hurried away. She needed to change and freshen up and, perhaps, sort out her emotions.
Back in the room, Zatanna unfolded her arms and scanned the room once again. Buck was gone, Zinda had fled and she was hot, horny and dishevelled.
“Emotk cabkcub del lacrytas eht gnirb!” she shouted out… but the room remained the same.
“Emotk cabkcub del lacrytas eht gnirb!” she tried again… still nothing.
“Emotk cabkcub del lacrytas eht gnirb!” she screamed and screamed but got the same response as before. The she just screamed and cleared the table in her rage of the few remaining artefacts that had survived the sex session.
“Get a grip, Zee. This is serious shit if it can block your magic,” she scolded herself. “Buck was here. He was here. That was no dream, no way was that a dream. He’s real so he’s somewhere and you’ve just got to find him.”
“Oh, Zatanna. Oh, Zatanna,” a voice called out. “Haven’t we forgotten something?” It had a rather smug edge to it to Zatanna’s frame of mind. “Haven’t we forgotten something?”
It was the crystal ball.
“Where’s the god Buck?” she asked it.
“Ah, ah, ah! That’s not something you’ve forgotten. That’s something you don’t know,” the crystal said.
“All right, where did I last see him?”
“In this room. Don’t you want to know what you’ve forgotten?”
Zatanna rolled her eyes and hefted a loud sign, “Is it to do with my only love: the satyr god, Buck?”
“Kinda.”
“Then tell me, Orb,” Zatanna snapped; not getting fucked really sucked!
“Well! You’ve forgotten all of your morals for one and how to behave and your sexuality –“
Zatanna let out a growl of anger, strode to the orb and picked it up.
“- all your friendships –“
She looked around and spied a solid wooden box.
“ – and your promise to your father never to use your powers for selfish reasons –“
She opened the box and stuffed the orb inside and slammed the lid.
“ – or for evil –“ a tiny muffled voice continued.
Zatanna picked up the box and crossed to a trunk that had been in her family for four hundred years
“ and your dress sense – that’s gone right out the window –“
and slammed the lid of the chest down.
With the irritating orb as contained as her morality, Zatanna took time to really think about something other than sex.
Buck had fucked her senseless in this room. She pushed on past the wave of pleasure she felt with that memory; she needed more than memories. And Buck had shown no sign of waning in his desire for her, so he wouldn’t have left of his own accord. So whatever had taken him from her might have left a clue in the room.
“Tu odes sapiec nismo orsiht deret en sahoh wenoy revelaever!” she commanded. A ghostly image of Lady Blackhawk appeared. For a second a burst of jealous rage flickered in Zatanna’s heart at the thought that the blonde bitch had stolen her god but ‘No’. Buck had fucked her into submitting to his will without any trouble and she had magic on her side. Zinda Black would have been a walk over for Buck to screw. If Zinda had met Buck last night, Zatanna reasoned, she would have woken up to find that fine head of blonde hair buried between her thighs. No, Zinda wasn’t the one.
But where next to look for clues? She was no Batman. In all the mess of their sexual romp last night a dozen clues could be lying around and she’d never find them.
“Ebdlu ohstisae calp stinik cabgnih tyreve,” she started and then hurriedly added, “nititup I’x obeht d’nabro ehttpec ex,” and sighed; that was a close call.
Every item suddenly jumped up and flew around the room in a reverse whirlwind of last night. Books slotted back onto bookcases nicely, torn parchments repaired and rolled up and stacked themselves in pyramids, knickknacks, trinkets and spurious items from the depth of human history found niches, shelves and resting places for themselves and even the excess cum from Buck flew into her mouth, which she swallowed without hesitation. Even her torn and tattered clothes returned so that, within a matter of minutes all was well in Zatanna’s inner sanctum as if nothing at all had happened. Even down to the grinning goat skull on the table.
“Buck! No!” Zatanna screamed in horror as she saw he lover trapped once again. Immediately she picked it up and dashed it to the floor; it bounced. She slammed it with all her might against a wall; it bounced again with a scratch.
“No! No! No, no, no, no, no!” screamed Zatanna clutching the goat head.
“Will you shut the fuck up, bitch, and let me get a word in,” came Buck’s voice from inside her head.
Zatanna froze.
“Master?” she tested.
“Fucking Demeter! She didn’t miss a trick. Listen to this, bitch:
‘Until thirteen mares
Fall for your wares
And toss their cares away for you
Imprisoned shalt thou be.
No friend or slave
Your earthen grave
Shall break to make you free.
The innocent and pure
Are now your only door
To gather another whore
Still a dozen more to go.’
Face it, bitch. You can’t break it.”
“We’ll see! Rettah slluk staog! Rettah slluk staog! Damn it! No!”
Even Zatanna’s powerful magic couldn’t smash the fragile pot head.
“You’re going to have to trick some innocent woman into smashing it to get me free. Better choose wisely ‘cause I’ll make you fuck her like a Nymph during the six nights of the great pandemonium.”
“Master, my god, I won’t fail you,” declared Zatanna. “I’ll turn a thousand virgins into whores for your pleasure if that is your desire.”