Wandering with a Goddess - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Keros..." the willowy teen spoke, the fatigue and pain apparent in her soprano voice.

"I know," he replied, his own breath billowing out before him in the freezing temperatures. "We cannot stop yet." He reached an arm out to her, brushing a large, calloused hand down her back. "You will make it."

Her jade-green eyes implored him from within the hood of her cloak, the falling flakes of snow around them now clinging to the fabric. She'd wrapped her hands and arms as well as she could within the cloak, and pulled it around her as well, trying to maintain as much coverage of her slim form as possible, while at the same time allowing enough motion for her arms to balance herself as she made her way with him over the uneven ground.

He gazed back, face set. "I will not let you fail, Chelone."

It was three days since they had set out from the ruins of San-Elos. Wishing to avoid the nearby encampments of Jekkani tribesmen, he'd taken them up into the foothills of the Rishash range, rather than backtrack into territory he'd recently come from. He'd assumed the tribesmen would be monitoring the roads for caravans, and didn't want to risk their movement. More accurately, he would not be able to use his woodcraft to move unaware through them because of his new traveling companion. So to the mountain passes it had to be.

Eventually the mountain passes. Even with the weather growing worse, the Jekkani had also taken up encampments at the entrances to the two nearest passes through the Rishash, so they had to work their way up into the foothills in order to bypass the hostile barbarians. It was a sensible plan...until the clouds that had been ever present from his arrival finally decided to unload their cargo of snow.

Now, hours into a snowstorm for the third straight day, he was seeing the lack of experience in traveling showing in Chelone's eyes - and fortitude.

No, that was not fair. The girl had fortitude and desire. She'd seemed to take on the challenge right away, when he'd had her give her oath. Her body wasn't on a par with her ambitions, however. He was sure her feet were blistering badly on the trek through the broken country around the roots of the peaks before them, mounting and descending rises covered in fir, spruce, and scattered black oak.

She complained little, which was more surprising. What he'd seen of her spoke of a soft life, and a father who enforced few rules that would help to harden her. He'd expected incessant whining, but apparently Chelone had a sterner core than he'd believed. Too, she'd spent most of the journey silent as well. Perhaps she was too winded to speak much; perhaps she had too much on her mind to consider after her harsh ordeal of the past two weeks...but either way, she had revealed little more information since they had packed what they could find as salvageable and left San-Elos, his brother and her father buried in a simple grave within his estate's compound.

And so he had remained, like her, within his own thoughts during the journey, and those thoughts were occupied most with plans for what lay ahead of them. Precious little, he mused. The Rishash was not a deep range, and beyond them lay the Carnage Plains, where not so long ago had existed the kingdom of Iluin. They would skirt the plains and remain relatively safe within the western foothills of the Rishash as they traveled south, until they could reach the relatively civilized land of Lor-Ribar...

"Keros..."

There was little alarm in the tone of Chelone's voice, but it caught his attention immediately, and he turned to his niece behind him. She had fallen in the ankle-deep snow, but that was not as notable as the wild spasming of her legs. Her eyes were wide and pleading as they looked up at him.

He gave a short curse as he came to her side and knelt, running his hands over her slender thighs, encased in what clothing they were able to procure. It seems it wasn't enough. She was too slim to retain much body heat, and the constant travel had apparently taxed her inexperienced muscles. She was having cramps all along the length of her lower body, and the rest of her was trembling with the cold.

Keros cursed again, then reached down and lifted her into his arms.

"I am sorry, Keros...I did not wish to upset you by complaining..."

The big man shook his head. "You have done well to come so far... I have pushed you too long."

She stared into his eyes, tears welling at her own. "I want to make you proud of me..."

Again, she surprised him with her rapid loyalty. Seldom did she speak against anything he said since they had left, and that acceptance was welcome, though confusing. When next they stopped, he desired to speak with her at length. They were to be together for more than a little time, and thoughts of how to manage the situation were growing in his mind. "I am proud of you, Chelone...you have done much without complaint."

She smiled through her pain, resting her head on his heavily clothed chest.

Keros barely registered her negligent weight upon his hefty arms. Her body was slim, but he still found himself strangely thrilled at feeling her against him. She had not the curves of a Nalabite blade dancer, nor the ample breasts of an eager Veruvian whore, yet there was an appeal to her that was both physical and metaphysical. He grunted roughly at that, amused at his own wandering mind; she was his niece, however new to his experience, even if he had lain with females her age before at other times. It was not the tenuous family thread that planted a seed of denial in his mind over her...no, it was more the respect she had earned from him for surviving the Jekkani assault of her home, and the stoic, taciturn attitude she had maintained in their journey through the foothills of the Rishash.

And yet now it would all be for naught if he could not find a place to shelter. As he brought one foot after another before him, he headed for the closest facing of rock, hoping to discover a cave, or at least an outcropping large enough to give them partial protection from the snow descending all around them.

Chelone pulled herself as best she could against him, and he held her tighter in response, as he wove his way through the tall pines. She needed warmth, and a fire would be a necessity. His personal knowledge of spells did not include a dweomer of warmth; one of many he had endeavored to find over the years, to no avail. Finding shelter was only the first step; then he would need to gather wood...

And then he spotted it. A less experienced woodsman and traveler would not have noticed it. A streak of grey amongst the white, traveling up the face of the cliff nearest him, clearly visible through the sparse limbs of the pines above him. It did not rise more than thirty feet, but he knew with a near certainty why the face of the cliff was bare. It was almost too much to hope for, such a boon, if it was so. He moved with an already lighter step towards the bottom of the streak.

As he moved past the last lean pine, he saw what he had expected - a dark crack-like opening in the rock face, the ground around it bare...and the reason was obvious as soon as he stepped within twenty feet of it.

Heat.

Without a free hand, he could not conjure a light-sphere to expose the dark-as-night space within, so he eased himself and Chelone into the crack, no more than four feet wide. Feeling with the tips of his boots, he determined that there was more than enough space ten feet within to put his trembling charge down. Even the surface stone of the cave floor was warm to the touch, and the air was invigorating to his exposed face.

But when he went to place the shivering girl on the floor of the cave, she reached out and clung tightly to his neck. Her eyes opened, and she looked up with an expression less of fear than need...though what that need was, he was uncertain of.

"Hold me," she begged with an intensity to her voice different than what he'd yet heard from her.

"Chelone," he chided, as gently as he could in his deep voice, "I must search the cave to make sure it is safe. I must make light. I cannot do that while holding you."

"Just a little more...please," she begged, at the same time pressing her slender form against him almost needfully.

He reached around his neck and prised her hands from him, then placed her against what he'd felt was one of the walls of the cave. A quick look at her face in the dim light from the entrance had shown an expression of shock, before he turned away and put his back to the entrance. A moment later the light-sphere sprung into existence, bringing the cave to immediate, colorful life.

If he'd focused more on sound, he would have heard the bubbling before he'd lit the place; it was impossible to miss it now. Before him stretched a meandering cavern of dark stone, except for the floor, which was mostly filled with a mist-decorated pool, clear and revealing a mineralized, white bottom. In places it appeared to be three feet deep. Columns of whitish mineral stood here and there, as well as stalactites and stalagmites aplenty, though there were more than enough places where the floor was both clear and above water.

It was the bubbling, though, that made him smile. The hot springs of Rishash were known far and wide, but those that were indeed known were usually guarded by jealous and violent Jekkani of a particularly intense bent, who used them for lustful spiritual rites forbidden to any outsiders.

For them, however, there would now be no need for firewood - at least, not for heat. He moved through the cavern, finding it was less than a hundred feet in total length, though its sinuous twists would have appeared more like a snake on a map, if had cared to draw one.

He returned to Chelone, who was huddled against the cave wall, again clutching her legs to herself. Her cramps seemed to have passed, and she appeared more aware, but her eyes were distant, focused on a point beyond the far wall.

Keros shook his head. He knew girls her age were prone to moodiness, yet what he had seen of her so far spoke of a brew of behaviors he was not familiar with. Too, there were things he guessed at about her, but he did not know for a certain...though he was ready to learn of them now. It would be a necessity, if they were to travel together longer.

When he stooped towards her, she looked up, startled out of her musings...then began reaching her arms out towards him. When he put a hand forth and grasped one of her own, she squeaked in surprise as he drew her back to her feet, then let go.

"Come with me to the water's edge," he spoke, then turned and moved the dozen feet or so to the steaming, mineral-rich pool. There he sat again, and immediately began to remove his boots. Rolling his breeches up, he then placed his feet into the heated water. A broad smile enveloped his face then, smoothing out some of the small lines around his eyes. "Try it," he ordered, pointing to her own shoe-enclosed feet.

She glanced at him sideways once, silent, then knelt and bent to the task of removing her footwear. A skeptical expression covered her dirty, though fair, features...but when her feet slipped into the water, her eyelids widened, then fluttered, finally closing.

"By the gods..." she purred, her lithe body slackening immediately, as a deboned fish.

"The waters have healing properties as well," Keros mentioned, grinning. "Bathe in it later...it will do much to restore you."

"Why not now?" his niece moaned softly, prying one eyelid open to gaze at him.

"We have things to speak of," he replied, gaze steady.

Her eyes fell again. "What of?" she asked, her voice barely above a murmur.

"Many things. Our journey has not been planned. As it was, I had planned to winter at the inn your father's message found me at. I was not prepared for two mouths to feed, or lodge."

She did not reply, but turned her face to him, listening.

"More importantly, I wish to speak of you. I barely know you, and since we are to be together for some time into the future...I want to know more of you."

"That is easy enough," she said. "I have led a boring, uninspired existence up to this point."

He gave her a shrewd glance. "Most people would say that at your age. I did myself."

"Perhaps you can tell me more of yourself, then?" she inquired, curiosity glittering in her eyes.

"Later...I hide nothing from anyone, and you will know me well enough, I warrant. But for now, I want to know more about you...and your father."

Chelone's face fell.

"That look itself speaks more than many words," Keros noted pointedly. "Were there troubles between you and he?"

The girl looked upon the waters of the pool, sending ripples with one petite foot across the surface. "He and I...were not close."

Keros nodded. "I can understand that, from what I knew of him."

She looked back at him. "What was he like when you knew him?"

"A talker," Keros answered honestly enough. "He was skilled in getting what he wanted with words."

She did not speak, but nodded.

"Our own father he could convince to change his mind more often than not. When he first began to deal with fur merchants for the pelts we had collected, he showed a talent for gaining the upper hand through barter."

"He traded far more than pelts," she said, eyes looking away again.

"He was successful, I know that," Keros mentioned.

"At money," she added, a bitter expression crossing her face.

"You shared in that wealth, did you not?"

She looked back at him again, eyes burning with an unexpected fire. "Not everything can be bought."

"No," he agreed, "it cannot." He pulled his feet from the pool, turning to face her. "What did he deny you that you wished from him?"

Again her face froze, apparently surprised at his insight. After a short pause, she seemed to shrink to even smaller than she already was. "Nothing I wish to speak of."

He shrugged. "It is your mind to disclose or hide away."

Her face came up to him then, eyes alight, and she studied him for a brief time. Then she seemed to make a decision.

"He was deep in his women," she finally stated, simply.

"He took another wife...or lovers?"

She stared at him. "His slaves."

Keros grunted. "So he did not merely buy and sell them?"

She sniffed. "Not merely. It was his pastime." Her brow furrowed. "He spent more time with them than...than anything else."

"And what did you do during this time? I would expect you to have been with friends in town."

"I was not allowed... friends," she responded, bitterly. "Nor to go into town...unless it was with him, on business."

He waved a hand. "An entire town at your disposal, and you were not allowed companions?"

She smirked. "Oh, I was allowed companions," she spat, "just not 'equals', as he put it."

Keros looked at her, considering. Then he nodded. "You kept company with his slaves?"

She gave a sour expression. "You say it as if I had a choice. I was practically raised by them." She paused. "No, I was raised by them."

"Didn't he have servants to keep the estate?"

"Why? He would have had to pay them," she answered morosely. "Instead, he got what he wanted...in every way...for free." Her voice rose a notch. "Why would he need a wife, when he could have his pick of any slave he wanted? It did not matter how often I asked him...begged him...to take a wife, so I could have a mother..." She fell silent.

Keros nodded. It made much more clear to him. "Did they do well by you?"

Chelone shrugged. "How would I know? I have nothing to compare it to."

"You seem well spoken enough."

She smiled, looking up at him. "A few of the slaves were from high-born or noble families. They took it upon themselves to teach me. He didn't trust anyone from outside the estate to be my tutor."

His eyes narrowed somewhat. "So you spent most of your life, only attended to by slaves?"

"Female slaves, yes," she added.

"What did he have you do, with all that time?"

"Whatever I wished...as long as it did not interfere with his...'duties'."

He tilted his head somewhat to the side. "And what were his duties?"

She gave him a knowing glance. "I am sure you know them well enough yourself." Her eyes traveled down his torso to rest at his groin.

He shook off her look. "So you were raised by a cadre of pleasure slaves?"

"Yes," she replied, somewhat defensively.

"And taught your letters..."

"And some other matters...history, some geography...a little knife-fighting..."

"I noticed that," he added. "But he did not teach you anything else?"

"Like what?" she asked, guardedly.

He paused. "What with all the slaves, and nothing but time, did he have them teach you any of their...skills?"

Her eyes seemed to bore into him for a handful of seconds, the expression on her face inscrutable. Finally, she sighed. "Of course they told me much. But aside from the moon blood, it was all talk."

"What do you mean?"

She scraped the cave floor with a small stone she had picked up. "I have spent all my life, from as early as I can remember, in the presence of women whose purpose is to bring pleasure to others. Most of them were used by my father, and most of them sought his favor...by finding some knowledge to offer me."

"It makes sense for them to do so," he replied soberly.

"But it did not to me," she complained, shaking her head. "Many of the things... most of the things they taught me...I was unable to...experience." Here, she looked at him askance again, though she tried to make it surreptitious.

"Of being with a man?"

"Of fucking, yes." She stared at him.

"He was protecting you," he responded.

"He never protected me from anything." Her face was hard. "He would have had to care for me first, to want to protect me. He never even shared a meal with me. I did not know why he kept me at all. I tried to come to him, time after time, from when I was a small girl, and he would always send me away. At first I thought it was because he wanted a boy; an heir. But as I grew older, I saw that was not important to him. All that was important to him...was him."

Her breathing had quickened, and she was no longer facing Keros; the hand with the stone in it was white-knuckled, and her face was strained.

"I spent hours every day scheming ways to get him to notice me...none of them ever worked. I became desperate for him to notice me, in any way. When I began to misbehave, the girls told me not to try in that way, and they were right, because even that did not bring his notice. So in my desperation, I took the advice of one slave, who had one plan she promised would not fail. Would not fail, because she understood what my father truly wanted..."

Keros waited, but when Chelone did not continue, he spoke. "What did he want?"

She sat silent for some time, and he chose to allow her the peace of the moment. When she finally spoke again, her voice was barely above a hiss, sharp as a blade.

"She was one of his favorites. To her, he would speak sometimes...of his plans, his great ideas to bring more wealth to himself, and therefore more women. Always, more women. She spoke to me of one night, when he had drank much, and he had told her of his plan...for me."

Keros sat silent.

"It was all long-planned, to be sure. Part of why he had never spent time with me. To keep him...unattached to me. For he knew the price of a woman of pleasure. He knew how much a girl...with elven blood in her...was worth...on the market."

He grimaced, but nodded. It was not much of a surprise, even from his brother.

"It explained much...of why I was raised by slaves and not a proper mother."

"Or a proper father," he noted.

Chelone's face was cold. "I never thought of him as a father. I was more a slave to him than anything." She paused, then looked at Keros, and her expression changed. "But I am no slave now." She managed a sincere smile. "You are more as a father should be."

He chuckled, waving a hand. "I am no parent. I have had no children, nor do I wish any." He looked at her. "Know that my family, as yours, was ill-suited for me. But I will not do so with you."

His niece glowed, rising from her spot on the cave floor, and came to him, climbing within the reach of his arms and curling up against him warmly. While he was still unused to her behavior, he did nothing to prevent it; to the contrary, he once again wrapped his arms about her and sheltered her. He felt she deserved that much at the least.

But there was more to it than that. He was not one to delude himself, and was not fool enough to deny that he felt particular cravings with Chelone in his arms. His family she may have been, but with her only in his life for a handful of days, he had not the experience with her to have formed a familial barrier so far as...manly urges. Besides that, he was not the sort to follow any particular culture's precepts, nor any religion as well. He'd traveled too far and wide to take up any particular creed. And thus, while Chelone was indeed his niece, he did not look at her as off-limits, and he felt no shame in finding her arousing. She was a woman, if young, and that was all that mattered.

Keros had lain with many sorts of women in his life. He was an experienced lover, if not with relationships. His own tastes were clouded even to himself, as he tended to spend time with women only in brothels, or the occasional farmer's daughter - or wife - when lodging in more civilized territory. He had rarely experienced a longer span of time with any one woman, and thus had not exercised his particular inclinations he'd felt for his adult life. With his young niece in his arms, however, he realized quite suddenly that he enjoyed her eager and submissive behavior.

Too, he found her form more than pleasing. She was below five feet, and while healthy, her petite frame resulted in a weight that was small. If anything, it only accentuated her femininity to him. And while she had formed very satisfactory hips, they, too, were slim.

So on the whole, the only thing that formed a barrier to his libido was his growing protectiveness of her, so far as her fragility after her ordeal. And that, it seemed, was impressed by her resilience. But he still had questions...

"Chelone," he asked, one large hand caressing her streamlined back.

"Mmm," she purred, seemingly quite content within his embrace.

"You never told me what the plan the slave had told you was - the one for attaining your father's attention."

She squirmed then, though not out of any feeling of being uncomfortable. Instead, it seemed to be an action uncalculated; a response to whatever thoughts she had at his words. Regardless, her body managed to rub against him in all the right places, and when his manhood responded naturally to her inadvertent touch, she immediately recognized it. She, too, had grown up with no typical set of mores to guide her attentions. From her perspective, raised by an ever-changing cadre of pleasure slaves, such a response from a man was either taken neutrally, as natural as blinking...or as a positive sign of your own appeal. It was the latter she assumed, and it brought a broad grin of both surprise and excitement to her full lips.

"She told me," she began, hands moving up to his chest to lie there, fingers spread, "that I should offer myself to him."

The sudden exclamation, combined with her hand placement, brought one of his eyebrows up. "To bed you?"

She nodded, snuggling closer to him once more. "She explained that it was what he understood, and what he desired more than anything from women...and I was a woman."

"A maiden," he pointed out, though he did not mention the obvious - that she was her father's own daughter.

She seemed to take note of the missing fact as well. "A female, and one he felt was worth grooming for sale...eventually."

"And did you take her advice?"

She ran one hand down his chest, then slipped it around his waist, clinging to him. "I did. I approached him one night in his bedchamber."

His hand on her back had slipped lower, pressing somewhat, holding her closer. "And?"

She sighed. "I told him of my...desires."

He paused a few more moments before asking. "...and?"

Her other hand stroked down his chest, to end on his abdomen. "He refused me...though he did not say why. I am sure he would rather have kept me...unspoiled."

This brought a chuckle from his lips, but it died when she looked up at him with wide, persistent eyes.

He gazed back at her. "And you were unspoiled then?"

"Yes," she answered, somewhat defensively. "I had said he did not let me go down to the town..."

"No handsome guard?"

"No," she resisted, eyes suddenly pleading. "Keros...please."

"What is it?" he asked.

"I am still unspoiled," she said softly, clinging to him with greater tenacity.

He found her eyes more than fetching in their wide, honest brightness. "There is no shame in it."

She only looked at him with a deeper gaze. "After so many years with women who had lain with men so often..." she whispered to him, "... it feels so."

He only looked into her eyes, silent, for many moments. There was a fine trembling in her arms and legs he could easily feel, and her plush lips were parted appealingly. Willing, and under his charge, she made no move to leave his embrace; instead, she slipped her hand on his stomach around his waist also, and rested her head on his chest.

"Do you wish to know a man?" he asked her, one of his hands now moving up her back, to her shoulders...then neck. He felt the trembling there intensify.

"Yes," she whispered, eyes never leaving his.

"Do you wish to know me?" he clarified.

Her breath caught. She blinked twice, but never took her eyes from him. "Yes."

After a moment of silence, he said, "Rise," taking his hands from her.

She did so, carefully and delberately, until she stood on her bare feet once more, before him.

He rose himself, until he stood, towering over her, but she never took her eyes from him, even when his hands removed her clothing, piece by piece, and she stood naked before him. She did not blush or shrink, but instead seemed to grow more certain of herself under his appraising eyesight.

Keros looked her over, very much enjoying what he saw.

Under his eyes, his niece tingled with her own lust, and licked those fulsome lips, breathing somewhat more heavily now. Never before had a man looked on her the way her uncle did...and never before had she felt the heat of desire burn within her belly as it did now, looking on him, his own form so very manly and desirable to her as well. She had heard for too many years the pleasures of men, and only imagined it. Now, she realized, she was on the cusp of finding it out...and with as fine a male as she had ever seen. That it was the man who had taken her in and protected her only increased her hunger and desire. If she'd felt a connection to him as no other person yet in her life, it was ever more strengthened in her own peculiar brew of emotions and understandings.

He reached forth again, taking her by the back of her head, and pulled her towards him, and she eagerly stepped forward, but his other hand stayed her body on her belly. He leaned in with his head, however, bending somewhat at the waist, in order to lower himself enough, and then kissed her on those lush lips he had been appreciating ever since he had first seen her.

A hungry little mewl escaped from those lips, and her hands rose, to cling to his forearms, trembling and needy in their youth and eagerness. But she gasped when he broke the kiss suddenly.

He looked on her again, taking in her youthful, if dirty, face. Then he smiled rakishly.

"Take yourself into the pool, and bathe yourself...I wish to see my girl clearly in her beauty," he directed her.

A blush enveloped her entire form, and she gasped softly, joyously smiling through it all. My girl echoed in his manly voice through her mind, and all that would register there was how she could give him the greatest pleasure, so as to show him her gratitude, affection, and eagerness to accept his will.

She turned from him in order to pick her way over to the steaming water, and once she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder at him, smiling again, but she was unable to effect any semblance of seductiveness on her features - she was only too apparent in her lack of experience. Instead, she had no realization of the sensuality that was innocently displayed in her face, owing to the utter submissiveness of her reactions.

Stepping then into the waters, she gasped again, this time at the heat of it, but made forward into it regardless. Acclimating rapidly, she cooed at the heat soaking into her, and crouched down into a deeper section of the pool, soon enough waist-deep in it. She moaned again, positively relishing the sensation of the water against her body. Turning to face him, she smiled once more before kneeling and bringing herself completely under the surface for a handful of seconds, only to rise again, gasping and spluttering, and wiping her now-sodden hair from her face. This she did several more times, working her fingers over her hair, face, and body, cleansing it of the ash of her former home and the dirt of their subsequent journey.

For his part, Keros watched it all approvingly. Once she had risen the final time, he took in her marvelous form, for marvelous it was in its natural state. Rosy-hued and shining with the droplets of the heated springs, her young body was obvious in its loveliness. While she was not possessed of a hardened musculature, she was sleek and healthy, and the travel they had yet to do would transform her even more. Small breasts rode high on her chest, perky and cute, topped by two hardened nipples, pink and round. The triangle of her pubic hair was small and groomed, revealing the flare of her nether lips, which he found most fetching. Her legs, while she was short, were slender and attractive, and were parted slightly in her position in the pool.

All that paled, however to the face he now saw clearly for the first time. Her skin shone radiant in the light of his spell-globe, ruddy with the heat and deliciously flawless, but for the endearing freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her dark hair framed her full cheeks wonderfully, and she brushed at it absentmindedly, pushing it behind both ears. Those light green eyes of hers sparkled with a new-found energy, missing from her life before him. Quite suddenly, the disaster of her life had become, in her mind, the saving grace. No long-thinker was she, at least not yet, as at her age the vagaries of a teenage female mind conspired to put her at the mercy of her heart and heat, and right now she was completely and thoroughly taken up by the overwhelming attentions of Keros, whom she saw as nothing less than a walking god upon the world...and she intended to give him the worship he deserved as her savior and benefactor, in the only way she knew.

"Come," he told her, and she instantly obeyed, wading through the lusciously heated water back to his side, stepping out to stand once again before him; young, naked, and fully embracing what she knew must be the fulfillment of her deepest fantasies that even she had been unaware of.

In the time she had bathed, he had removed his own clothing, and now she soaked up the glory of his own firm, powerful form. He was masculine in every way to her, from the hair upon his broad chest, to the thickness of his thighs. And there, between his legs, hung a cock she had no way of comparing to others, for it was the first she had seen. She had been told of many by the girls who raised her, but to finally see one, and find it already hardening before her own exposed form, set off more empowering jolts of pleasure through her. An overwhelming urge swept through her, and she suddenly found herself kneeling before him, trembling anew before his manly strength of body and personality.

Her choice of behavior was invigorating to him as well. He had expected to find her more fetching once clean, but the vision of her there, kneeling on the cave floor for him, was nothing short of sublime. The youth of her body only made her more appealing to him, as well as her apparent willingness - nay, eagerness - to submit to him.

He stepped back towards their packs, withdrawing both of their blankets. One he spread on the cave floor, the other he placed beside him, before sitting himself...then beckoning her forward.

She rose again, a spring in her step apparent, as well as that fine trembling. She knew what was about to happen, and with whom, and despite her relish for it, was apprehensive all the same...more for her own performance than anything. Already, she worried for her approval from him. She wished only to please her savior, by whatever means she was capable of.

When she reached him, he gathered her again in his arms, but this time he guided her down, straddling him, until his heavy cock was pinned between their bodies, and her entire weight rested on his thighs. The feel of him against her belly was exhilarating, and she squirmed against him without thinking, mewling with unfettered delight at the touch of such a powerful part of his body against her young form.

She rested her hands upon his shoulders, soon placing them around his solid neck, and drank in all that he was. She knew he was more powerful than she was, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and she reveled in that weakness, eagerly accepting her place through her actions...and soon, words.

"Do I please you?" she asked haltingly, smiling shyly at him.

"Very much so," he replied, his own smile much more confident, and reassuring.

She pulled herself to him, delighting in the feel of his solid form, purring in satisfaction and anticipation. But then she turned her head up and her eyes to him.

"Keros?" she voiced, somewhat nervously.

"Yes, Chelone?"

She smiled at his words. "I like being your neice."

He did not speak, but kissed her forehead possessively, and she cooed eagerly.

"May I call you what I will?" she queried again.

"What would you call me?" he asked.

She paused, blushing, but never took her eyes from him. "Daddy."

He felt a burst of desire and affection for her blossom out from his chest, spreading, until it settled quite firmly at the base of his heavy cock. "You will call me Master when we travel among others...but when we are alone, you may call me Daddy," he allowed, caressing her back once more, before sliding his hands down to cup her small, firm ass.

The blatant, confident touch of his hands there brought another gasp from her. Everything he did seemed to give her a new sense of confidence, and a growing, surging hunger for more. Her young, heated lust was now thoroughly stoked, and she leaned up against him with her youthful form to kiss his neck and chin, shivering with desire. "I need you, Daddy."

"I know," he smiled through his own desire for her, "my Chelone...my goddess."

She sighed then, shivering in the near-perfection she felt under his eye and touch, melting into his frame, breathing his masculine scent, and finding herself ready for anything he commanded or did...anything at all. To her mind, he was the only man who mattered...and because of her experiences, and peculiar mind, she likely rang true in that regard. Still, they were heady words, devoured by her blossoming ego.

"I am your goddess?" she breathed, awed by the certainty of his words, and the power of them.

"You are like a goddess, perfectly formed in body and mind," he replied, continuing to knead the excited and tense muscles of her spherical ass. He kissed her lips once more. "But I do not worship you."

She giggled once, but her eyes became intense, as her hands ran through the hair on his chest. "Then I will worship you."

He gave her a satisfied grunt in the affirmative, manipulating her with his two large hands, pulling her close enough that the wetness of her budding sex smeared against the base of his cock. He further lifted her, spreading that wetness along his length, and she gripped his shoulders, shuddering at the sensation of it all, placing her knees down on either side of his broad thighs, and allowing herself to be guided along him at his pleasure.

She kissed him in return, even if they were kisses of exploration, not full-fledged and passionate. Her enthusiasm was enough for him, however, and he returned them with his own force, producing more of her now-familiar high-pitched squeals of delight. Her hands held on to the thick muscles of his shoulders, reveling in his power, his force, and his dominion of her. She was uncomprehending of any other way to behave, and even if she had been aware of one, would have quickly and easily chosen the submissive path, for relinquishing what little power she had to him had produced nothing but satisfaction for her so far.

It was no rare thing for a pair of such different ages to couple in their world, regardless of kingdom or culture. Life was a short, miserable thing for most of the inhabitants, and becoming shorter with the growth of portal magic in general and the various nether beasts unleashed therein. Fertility was looked on with favor, and girls became women in most communities sometime around their fourteenth year. To be a grandsire in the middle twenties was preferable to death by disease or strife, even if it was rare enough. So if a stranger had interrupted the two lovers' steaming domain, they would not have made much note of it, other than the sensual intensity.

The familial bond they held, however, was a much more serious thing. Regardless of high mortality, incest was still highly frowned upon, except in royal circles, for obvious reasons. And yet, both Keros and Chelone had their separate, though similar reasons for flouting the deeply-set taboo. The wandering warrior, long an iconoclast, felt beholden to no authority or creed he'd yet encountered, and was not the sort to bow to any other. His niece, lacking religious or cultural training of any sort, was a blank slate, and now imprinted upon her obedient psyche whatever the masterful older man desired or demonstrated.

So it was, when the moment came, as he raised her up enough to clear the head of his cock, she reached down and remembered what she had learned from her father's slaves, took the thick and throbbing member within her fingers, helping guide it to where she hungered for it to go. Her enthusiasm stoked his own hunger for her, and he found himself far more aroused by her than any female he'd been with before. It wasn't difficult to understand why.

As she painted the head of his cock between her nether lips, he shifted his own hands to her waist, gripping her firmly. Chelone bit her lip and looked up at him again, eyes full of conviction and purpose.

"Will you keep me always?" she begged, mildly panting now.

"We shall see," he murmured to her, keeping her in place above his masculine spike. "You may change your mind in a moment."

"I will want you more then," she gasped, squirming in his hands, seeking to lower herself upon him, her copious wetness now trailing down to her thighs in two shiny tracks and coating the head of his manhood.

"You barely know me," he noted, easily holding her in place despite her actions.

"I know enough." Her voice was husky and eager.

"And what do you know of men?" He paused a second, before shaking his head. "No, I am sure the women around you told you more than enough."

"They did," she assured him in a hungry whine.

He eyed her again, merciless and astute. "Beg for it, then."

"Please," she wheedled, now worrying her lip with bright white teeth.

His eyes looked down upon her, insistent.

"Master. Please, Master," she moaned.

He tilted his head, eyes smoldering and stern, and Chelone wondered what he would do if she simply relaxed her legs and tried to thrust herself upon him, forcing the matter. His eyes, however, revealed an authority she thoroughly did not desire to defy.

"Again," he insisted, mastering himself in the interim, fighting back the urge to simply yank her slender torso down and impale her on him. No...she needed to understand, from the outset, what he expected...demanded...of her.

She writhed within his hands, relishing both the force of them upon her form, and the force of his words upon her mind. Never had she been such a focus of a man's attentions, and her craving for the long-denied experience was driving her wild.

"Please Master!" Her hands reached hungrily up into his hair, caressing his scalp with reckless desire. Then somewhere in her mind, she recalled herself; some tidbit of her lessons, and she licked her lips, albeit quickly, and bored her own soft green eyes into his. Her body stilled for a span of a few seconds, and in those moments...she made him her world.

"Please...Master."

Her chest rose and fell more slowly, her soft, tender breasts peaked by their rigid nipples, the breath leaving her parted lips like a sweet song. He felt her relax then; not only in the muscles of her body, but in her very soul, as she calmed the slavering beast clamoring for him to do what he would...and truly submitted to him for the first time.

She spoke it again; hushed, reverent...worshipful. The epiphany of it all struck her fully then: she belonged, not only to him...but she belonged. She had found, in his arms, under his sway, the place she had ached emptily for all those years.

"Master."

A single tear tumbled down her freckled, curved cheek, from an eye that saw everything she had dreamed of and waited for, contained in a single man. She cared not how many others filled the world, were stronger than he; wiser than he. She belonged to him.

"Master... " she breathed...not imploring; confirming.

So still she was, so focused on him, that she felt his muscles tense for the act even before they began to move, and her breath hitched for that one moment, as if before a plunge. Her legs relaxed, allowing him to fully bear her weight. Down she moved by the strength of his arms, and the first touch of him against her sopping lips sent a jolt of sensation up her spine, arching it, gooseflesh spreading out over her extremities.

He did not halt at the touch of their flesh together, instead allowing his momentum to press the broad head of his manhood deeper into her channel. The feel of it was enough to take her breath away, literally, and she gasped a second after, still feeling him sliding her down further, making use of her body like the finest calfskin glove. It was a moment later that his bulbous head pressed up against her virginity, but there was neither pause nor reflection, the point nearly unrecognized as he continued with the same pressure, and a moment after that he was through.

The pain was sudden and intense, but only for that moment. It caused her to yelp, but while the pain continued, it was so melded with the pleasure she was feeling there and elsewhere that it became a part of the pleasure. The sensation of being filled was almost overwhelming to her young mind and senses, and a shivering half-moan tumbled from off of her tongue. Harshly she pressed her fingers into his scalp now, but she was not even aware of that. All she knew, could know, were those deep blue eyes piercing her own, and his invading manhood, piercing her now-unvirginal womanhood.

It went on, sliding further and further in, bringing her to gasp now with every breath, her mind overborne with an excess of sensation and emotion. She did not consider how much of him she could take, or what would happen once he was completely secured within her - if possible - or even how thoroughly she was overwhelmed by his every action. All she knew were his eyes, holding her more tightly than those manly hands on her waist, and that masterful cock driving through her relentlessly, like a frost across a glass pane on a midwinter's eve.

All of this did not go unnoticed by Keros. He could see and sense the depth of her dedication to him, so sudden and so thorough, though he knew they were new to each other. It spoke much to her frame of mind, and the truth of her words on her upbringing. He knew, in a corner of his own mind, that what he was choosing to follow as far as their new relationship would be reviled by many if they knew the truth...but he had never heeded the frowns of others, or their lack of vision. He knew what was good for him, and he believed he knew what was good for her as well. She would not lack for the attention of a man again, as long as she remained with him, and that, he now knew, was what she craved more than any material wealth.

No words passed between them - only glances - as he slid that massive thing inside of her, until finally no more would fit, and he could feel her cervix with the head of it. At that touch, she knew she was completely filled, and the mere understanding of it brought a satiated moan to her throat.

He held her there, leaning in to kiss her thoroughly again, all while she meekly sat upon him and took his ministrations with a trembling and utterly willing acceptance.

"My Chelone," he whispered into her tingling ear.

"Yes," she purred, shivering and pressing herself closer against him with a greater arching of her slender back. "Yours."

"Mmm," he groaned, pushing upwards, adding to the pressure against her inside, until she responded with her own excited and overwhelmed squeal.

"Godssss...it's so big...and all inside me..."

He smiled, adjusting her a bit. "Mostly inside you...you're a small one."

She looked up into his eyes then, a vague uncertainty in her own. "Too small?"

He shook his head. "Small is good."

She sighed, pressing her erect little nipples into his abdomen and lying her head on his chest, but then he reached one hand up and took her chin again, bringing her eyes to his once more.

"It is only the beginning."

And before she could ask what was to come, he indeed began, lifting her by her waist, sliding her off of his engorged cock, then back down again, in a smooth, deliberate rhythm. The cadence and the pressure of that massive thickness sliding once more inside of her, but more rapidly...and then out...and then in...

"Oooh!" she cooed, though the intense pleasure she felt was accompanied by that enormous feeling of being stretched and filled. It was unlike any pleasure she had ever felt in exploring her own body, however good that had always been. Adjusting quickly to the powerful emotions and ecstasy she was experiencing, Chelone continued full eye contact with her uncle, feeling all the more excited and arousing for it. For the first time in her life, she not only felt wanted, but powerful. It was an odd thought, her mind reasoned in the background, to give herself so thoroughly to him, and yet to feel so emancipated. It was a small thought as well, not the focus of her mind, but it planted itself in her psyche and took root there, sure to grow to a considerable size and importance as she spent more time with Keros.

And he was completely pleased with it all as well, manipulating her slender form atop him, drawing pleasure from her body and her behavior, all the while considering how more to extract every last drop of her loyalty and enjoyment from it.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes!" she gasped, mouth open, breath heavy.

"Yes, what?"

She paused the span of three breaths before answering enthusiastically. "Yes, Master!"

"Good girl," he intoned, gracing her with another satisfied smile.

"Mmm," she moaned, as much a slave to his actions as to his words.

But it had been a span of months since his last woman, and Chelone was far, far more appealing and enthusiastic than that wench had been. He knew he could slow their pace, lift her off of him, or do any number of other actions that would delay the inevitable...but for this first time of hers, he wanted her to know his full excitement at her, and her own eager and willing acceptance of him.

Some several minutes later, their bodies now glowing in the reflected light with their own individual sheen of sweat, Keros himself began gasping, bringing his niece up and down upon himself with greater enthusiasm and energy. She was in her own throes of passion, wildly running her hands over his chiseled form, too far gone in her own miasma of pleasure to take any heed of the pain she was also experiencing.

Chelone, sensing something greater was close to happening, kissed his neck, licking some of the sweat from it excitedly. "Master...do I please you?"

"Yes," he panted, now thrusting his hips up into her as he plunged her down with his arms.

His terse answer seemed to energize her even more. Young and inexperienced though she was, she knew enough to be able to tell her benefactor and protector was enjoying her very much. The revelation spiked her own desire, and the fingers of one hand made their way to her clit, which she wasted no time in massaging with the tip of a trembling and quickening finger.

"Chelone," he said suddenly, firmly and powerfully.

"Yesss," she moaned, eyes drunk on her own euphoria as they took him in.

"Cum for me," he ordered, almost unnecessarily.

Just the words powered a thrill through her slight frame, a harsh shiver following it a moment later. Without realizing it, an orgasmic scream began deep within her chest, skirling its way up through her throat, as her insides melted from the heat of her passion - at least it so felt to her. Her finger pressed down on her throbbing button, as he penetrated her completely, and her scream gave her orgasm impetus to push her beyond anything she'd ever felt or imagined before. And it went on, longer and more intense than anything she could have dreamed of, her other hand raking his chest harshly as she became unknowing of anything else in the world for those seconds, but the explosion of her own uninhibited pleasure, and that awesome cock of his filling her beyond her body's expectations of what it could possibly handle.

A deep breath, and another scream ripped itself from her lungs...and another. And on it went, her orgasm that put a false face on anything she'd ever considered an orgasm before, as she squirmed and shook uncontrollably upon him, impaled on his stake of masculinity she never wished to be removed from.

Her own reaction and pleasure was more than enough for him to carry himself over the edge, and he grunted loudly as his own climax engulfed him, pressing her down upon him more harshly than ever. And his seed erupted within her, thick and hot and copious, trapped between the apex of her silky-wet femininity and his invading manhod.

When she'd regained enough of her senses to realize what had happened, she knew what it all meant, and it gave the afterglow and growing recognition of her own pain a sheen of happy satisfaction. Her uncle had cum within her, giving her his seed, and possibly his child in some time. It only made her crave his attentions and approval all the more. She was without a doubt, absolutely, his.

And he knew it as well. A girl with child would be a greater burden for him to care for, if she became with his child. But he was, at that moment, thoroughly sated and accepting of it. Still convinced of the gods' interference considering her survival and his taking her under his protection, he sighed contentedly, lying back on their cloaks and bringing her with him, in his considerable arms.

She snuggled happily upon him, slick with both their fluids, slight arms wrapped tightly around his thick neck.

"I am yours," she stated simply, the devotion in her voice thick and sweet.

"Yes," he replied as clearly.

"And I will do whatever you will." She placed a reverent kiss on his matted chest.

He grunted in reply, but it was a tender and attentive grunt at that.

"Anything you will of me," she repeated, feeling the burn of her body, of the muscles in her thighs and ass, from the journey and the fucking both, and throbbing of her cunt, stretched and torn and penetrated so masterfully by him, and still filled, even with him softening.

"I am pleased," he answered her, stroking her dark hair, then holding her head firmly to him. In his own mind, the realities of their situation were beginning to bubble back to the surface, through the haze of pleasure he had allowed them to have. They were still without a destination, ensconced within a warm cave, yes, but within a harsh territory in the winter, among some of the cruelest of peoples.

Chelone was a godsend, he believed.

And those selfsame gods would not leave them or abandon them now.

Such was his last thought, as he felt her breathing become shallow and steady, and his thoughts strayed, and his eyes closed, his own breathing matching hers.

To Be Continued

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