Destiny's Petition

Stars.

As far as Tim could see, there were stars. Not the type of stars you’d see from your backyard, nor even from the deep wilderness. These stars shone with intent and purpose. They lit the sky with a boundless enthusiasm, your eye being drawn deeper and deeper into their fields. It was a sky to get lost in, dreaming, imagining, all worries and stress unable to penetrate the strength of its beauty.

But Tim Thompson had seen that sky before, and he was far from somewhere to lay back and enjoy the sky.

He sat up, amazed that he wasn’t bound as he was last time, but could clime to his feet, lowering his hands to smooth out his dress, but found that he was still naked. And not just naked. Naked and erect. Whoever, whatever had brought him to that place had left him in the state of arousal that he had been in the bedroom with Tabby. It made him feel exposed, ****. As he covered his erection with one hand and his breasts with his other, Tim wished he had some gum to chew on to help take the edge off.

From somewhere in the room, Tim could faintly hear a young woman’s voice, speaking emphatically somewhere, words unintelligible, but passion unmistakeable. Whatever she was upset about had gotten her fired up. He hoped that it wasn’t about him. If there was an issue with one of the immortals, with Justice gone, Tim was unsure of what kind of protection he would receive.

A gust of... well, a gust of something blew. Not wind. The air was still where Tim stood. Not stale, just still. But yet, even without wind, there was a sense of movement, a feeling of swirling, all around Tim, above him, below him, through him. It intensified, growing, buzzing in his brain. Louder and louder it became. His soft, dainty hands left his private parts and instinctively covered his ears to block it out. A scream escaped his puffy lips, but he could sound but the buzzing.

And then it stopped.

Out of the silence an impossibly low voice spoke.

"Again a mortal pulls me from my thoughts," Tim felt his eyes ache as the old man spoke, "and again my daughter brings a petition."

"A mortal he may have been born," Destiny appeared next to her father, wearing a red dress identical to Tim's, looking odd on her plump teenage body, "but he has become something else, and not through my authority. A grievous act has been undertaken by this one, and the offence must not stand."

The old man's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he peered into Tim's eyes. He cleared his throat, considering what he was seeing, causing a cacophonous echo in the cavernous space.

"Yes," he rumbled, the corners of his mouth turning up, "I see now. He has become something new."

"He has stolen from the fates of every mortal on Earth!" Destiny shrieked, "The lives of humanity are not the playthings of ones like him. He is an affront to the natural order! Please, Father, you must intervene!"

"If I could just," Tim's small, feminine voice started, but could not continue.

"Do not dare to address your Creator as an equal!" Destiny rounded on Tim, waving her hand and painfully knocking him to his knees with some unseen ****, "You are but a worm, insignificant."

"But I didn't ask for..."

"Silence!" her voice had a frantic, raging tone. Again she waved her hand, this time racking Tim's body with pain. He fell to the floor, tears running from his eyes, moaning in agony. So heavy was the pain that he spared not one thought for the state of his make-up.

"Daughter," the old man began, but could not continue, as something surprised him, something he would not have expected. A voice that he had hoped to hear for millennia called out, the spark of hope reigniting in his heart, despite the words that came out of her mouth.

"Stop!" called the voice of his wife, Wisdom, as she appeared out of thin air, throwing her body on the naked form of the mortal, "You must not hurt my master!"