Taming the Giant_A Kindred tales novel
Page 9
‘With your hands, you mold her flesh
Lay your mouth upon her breast
With your shaft you part her thighs
The seed shall flow, the shaft shall rise
Nipples ripen, flower bloom
Two are one within this room
Womb will open, curls will grow
Petals unfurl, juices flow
Thus you bring your bride to bloom
Blossom ripe until the tomb.’”
She looked up at her giant. “And while she said all that, she, uh, acted it out with the mannequins. I mean, she put the male doll’s mouth to the female’s breast and then she rubbed his shaft against her flower…that kind of thing.”
“That’s an extremely specific ritual.” Bram sounded thoughtful. “Little one, do you really think it’s necessary in order for you to, uh, bloom?”
“No female has ever managed to bloom or conceive without it,” Alanah said sadly. “It’s very important—which is why it’s supposed to be against the law for the Elder Witch to withhold it.” She sighed unhappily.
Bram frowned. “And can you explain to me a little more what blooming actually is—or maybe show me what you mean when you say you’re, uh, ‘unbloomed’? I’m still not completely certain what you’re talking about and it would help to be able to see.”
Alanah felt like her whole body was blushing at once.
“I…I don’t know about, uh, showing you,” she murmured. “I…to be honest, I’ve never been, uh, naked in front of another person in my life since I was very small. Even in the bath we wear bathing shifts to cover ourselves. But…” she looked up at him. “I guess I could…maybe let you feel a little. Since…since you’d be touching me over my shift and not under it.”
“That would be all right,” Bram murmured. “I’ll be more than happy to stroke your beautiful body, little one.”
“All right, well…” Alanah bit her lip. “Can…can I have some time in the, uh, privy and bathing room first to freshen up a bit? I’d like to do something with my hair and wash my face. I still feel like I just rolled out of bed.”
“And you have to get ready before you can roll back into it, hmm?” He gave an amused, rumbling laugh. “Of course, little one—help yourself. And as for hair care—why don’t you use the hair unit in the corner of the bathing room?”
“The…what?” She frowned.
“Here—I’ll show you.”
He led her back into the bathing area and showed her a rounded metal cap which was large enough to cover even his head. It was mounted on the wall on a metal bracket which slid up and down and it just barely came low enough for Alanah to use. She was certain if some of her shorter friends, like Jenla ever came aboard the Kindred Mother Ship, they would have to use a stool to access it. In fact, she was going to need a stool herself to get to some of the higher areas of Bram’s suite.
“How does it work?” she asked, looking at the metal cap curiously. He’d shown her so many strange things she felt she was almost getting used to them by now. A machine that fixed hair which was frizzy because she’d gone to bed with it damp hardly seemed like a miracle anymore—not compared with a metal doggen that did laundry and cooking.
“Just put your head inside and think how you want your hair to look,” he told her. “The unit can read your thought patterns and responds to them instantly.”
Alanah stood under the cap obediently and closed her eyes.
“Smooth,” she thought as clearly as she could. Her hair was a frowzy mess—she wanted it to be as sleek and straight and shiny as though she’d brushed it a thousand times.
At once she felt a warm puff of air which seemed to envelope her entire head and then a gentle pulling sensation, as though the machine was combing every strand of her hair at once. It was strange but not frightening. In fact, Alanah, who had always liked having her hair played with, found it rather soothing. But before she could really relax, the hair unit finished and slid upwards on its bracket releasing her.
“Is it—did it work? It went so fast.” Alanah put a hand to her head uncertainly.
“Come and see.” Bram brought her to a strange kind of mirror she hadn’t noticed before. It showed not only the front of her hair but both sides and the back as well.
Alanah looked at herself in amazement. Her hair was as smooth and sleek as she’d ever seen it—a thick, shiny mass that framed her face and swirled around her shoulders in a silky wave. Even the ragged ends had been trimmed, leaving them exactly even and beautifully smooth.
“Oh…” she whispered. “That’s amazing. I don’t care what you say, Bram—this has to be magic.”
He shook his head with a smile. “It’s just technology, little one. It’s the way we Jor’gen Kindred keep our hair braided. Because we don’t believe a male should cut his hair but we don’t want it in the way either.”
“Oh…” She looked at his smooth black braids. “I wondered if I might see it loose sometime.”
“Maybe.” He smiled at her. “Well…” He nodded at the doorway. “I’m going out into the sleep chamber to change. When you feel ready, come join me.”
Alanah began to get that breathless feeling again.
“All…all right,” she murmured. “Just give me a minute more, please.”
“Take your time,” Bram told her and disappeared, considerately shutting the door behind him.
Alanah looked for a pump to get some water and then remembered that Bram had showed her how to use the sink during their first tour of this room. She held her hands under the shiny silver nozzle and was amazed when a rush of warm water bathed her fingers immediately. She couldn’t help thinking, as she splashed her face, of the many long hours it took back home to draw water from the well or pump it into a bucket and what an effort it was to build a fire in the stove and bring it to boil.
Everything was so easy here—so effortless! And so warm. Back home she felt like she’d never been truly warm enough—even during the summer months when the sun was more often in the sky there was a chill in the air, especially at night. But here on Bram’s ship everything was there for the asking—water, heat, food and drink…
It would be so nice to live here permanently. To never have to go back to the cold, drafty castle.
Well maybe she would stay here forever…if Bram still wanted her when he truly understood what it meant that she was unbloomed.
Alanah tried to push the worrisome thought away.
Bram cares for me, she reminded herself. He said he’s interested in more than…than penetration.
How much more, remained to be seen.
Alanah realized that she was simply procrastinating—taking her time in the bathing chamber because she was nervous about what was to come. But though her stomach seemed filled with the fluttering of nerves, she also craved what was waiting for her in the vast bed next door—craved Bram’s warm touch on her body.
“Enough,” she told herself, taking a last look in the strange mirror which Bram had called a “3-D viewer.” “It’s time to go.”
And taking a deep breath, she left the bathing room for the bed chamber.
Chapter Ten
Bram was waiting for her, the covers thrown back to show his bare chest and the long, silky black trousers he’d changed into—presumably his sleep wear.
“Come to bed, little one,” he murmured in that deep, rumbling voice Alanah was coming to love so well.
“All right.” She started to approach the vast bed…then stopped. She was still wearing her dressing gown, she realized. It was time to take it off.
Taking a deep breath, she unknotted the cord around her waist and let the gown slip to the floor, leaving her clothed only in her thin white sleep shift. It showed the shadows of her full breasts and the V between her legs—though there wasn’t much to see there, she thought ruefully.
From the bed, she heard Bram take in a deep breath of his own.
“Come here, little one.” His voice was hoarse with longing.
“Come here and let me hold you.”
The top of the bed came up to her waist so Alanah had to hitch herself up to get into it. But once she was in, it was easy enough to slide under the silky sheets and warm covers to lie beside her giant.
Bram gathered her into his arms at once and laid her head on his chest, cuddling her close to his big, warm body.
Alanah knew she would have stiffened and drawn away if he had been anyone else. She’d never been so intimately close to any man and yet with Bram, it felt right. More than right—it felt like she was feeding a ravenous hunger that had been gnawing at her for the past six months—ever since she’d started dream-sharing with him.
With a little cry of passion, she pressed herself closer, throwing her arms around his neck and rubbing against him restlessly—shamelessly—like a catkin begging to be stroked.
“Oh, Alanah,” Bram breathed and there was a depth of longing and need in his voice that echoed what she felt herself. He held her to him carefully, as though she was fragile and infinitely precious, and stroked all over her body with his big, warm hands as though he was learning her by heart.
Dimly, she remembered thinking those hands were strong enough to crush her skull if he’d wanted to. But she had no such fears now. She could feel the tenderness in his touch—the care he took with her even in the middle of a passionate embrace. Her giant wanted only to love her, only to hold and protect her and it was that emotion that made her feel free enough—confident enough—to take one of his big hands in her own and press it to her chest.
“Here,” she whispered, letting his fingers trace one of her small, flat nipples. “This is what I mean—what I was trying to tell you. Do you see?”
“See that your nipples are small?” He frowned. “But all of you is small, little one. I don’t understand the problem.”
“No, look.” Impatiently, forgetting her previous shyness, Alanah pulled down the top of her sleeping shift. “Look,” she told him again. “They are more than small—they’re unripened.”
“Hmm…” He rose up on one elbow to look down at her. The room was lit with dim, golden light which came from the corners but it was enough to see by.
Alanah wanted to squirm with embarrassment at his close scrutiny but she forced herself to hold still. What would he think of her now, she wondered. Would he still want her?
But the look on Bram’s face wasn’t anger or disgust—only curiosity and gentleness.
“Can you feel, there?” he asked. “I mean, are they sensitive?”
Without waiting for an answer, he blew a thin stream of air over her tiny buds, making Alanah gasp and tremble.
“Hmm…I guess that answers that question,” Bram rumbled. “You’re certainly sensitive enough.” He looked up at her. “Honestly, I still don’t see the problem, little one.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen…haven’t seen all of me yet,” Alanah blurted.
Quickly, before she could lose her courage, she pulled the white shift up above her hips, giving him a clear view of her unbloomed sex as well.
“Mmmm…” Bram leaned over her, so close she could feel his warm breath puffing against the unfurled outer petals of her pussy.
This time Alanah couldn’t help squirming in mortification. Gods, what had she been thinking? She had never allowed another person to see her naked before. And why had she chosen this moment to show the man she cared for her physical deformities?
But again, Bram didn’t seem put off and there was no indication he felt he’d been cheated by agreeing to marry her. Speaking of that, Alanah couldn’t believe she was letting him see her like this when they hadn’t even had a ceremony yet! But she couldn’t help feeling that he needed to know what he was getting into before they made their relationship permanent.
“Help me out, little one—what am I supposed to be seeing that you don’t have?” Bram murmured, looking up at her. “You appear to have female parts as far as I can tell.”
“Well, yes but…but I have no color—no curls,” Alanah pointed out, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “When a woman’s flower—her pussy—has bloomed, it grows pink and plump and open and a little mound of curls sprouts—just here.” She motioned to the flat mound above her closed slit. “Do you see now?”
“I see that you’re beautiful,” he murmured and looked up at her. “Are you sensitive here as well?”
“Well…” Alanah bit her lower lip and shifted her hips. “I don’t…don’t know.”
“Can I touch you? To find out?” Bram murmured. “Just very lightly, with my finger?”
“I…” Her heart was suddenly pounding so hard it seemed to shake her body. “I guess so,” she whispered. “I mean…it is our, uh, Touching Day after all.”
“Yes, it is.” His voice was deep and hungry but his touch was light as he traced the tightly closed slit of her sex with one large, gentle fingertip.
Alanah gasped and writhed under his tender caress. She’d never felt anything like this before! Bram’s hands on her set every nerve in her body on fire and at the very center, between her closed lips, she seemed to feel an aching or throbbing.
“Hmm,” her giant rumbled. “You’re certainly sensitive enough here as well. So it’s not like you can’t feel anything.”
“But I can’t…can’t open up,” Alanah protested. “I can’t because I haven’t bloomed!”
“But you can feel pleasure.” Once more his long finger traced her slit and this time he seemed to linger near the top, just where the throbbing seemed to be centered. Very lightly, he pressed down and rubbed in a circular motion.
The gentle touch shot a lightning bolt of pleasure straight through Alanah’s entire body.
“Oh…ahh!” she gasped, her hips arching involuntarily. “Oh, Bram—what did you do?”
“Pressed your button, little one.” He gave her a lazy, amused smile.
“My…my button? What button?” Still panting, Alanah looked down at herself uncertainly, halfway expecting to see one of the shiny silver buttons from the lift which lit up when pushed. But there was nothing but her own narrow slit—although it did seem to be a little more rosy and flushed than before.
“Your clit,” Bram said, as though that ought to mean something. “The pleasure center all females have in their pussies.”
“They do? I do?” This was news to Alanah.
“Of course you do, little one.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you never touched yourself before?”
“Touched myself? Between my legs? How?”
Because a female couldn’t open until she bloomed on her wedding night with her husband, she’d never even considered such a thing. It simply wasn’t done.
“Like this,” Bram murmured and pressed lightly over that same spot again.
“Oh!” Alanah’s back arched again, as though someone had pulled a string attached to her spine. “Why…why does that feel so good?” she demanded.
“I’d like to claim it’s magic only I can do,” Bram murmured, giving her a sleepy, smile, warm with lust. “But it really is just your body responding to stimulus. Alanah…” He looked at her more seriously. “If I’m very, very careful, will you let me touch inside you—just enough to stroke your little clit again?”
“Touch…inside me? But, well…I don’t think you can,” she protested. “My petals won’t open—they can’t.”
“Maybe not much,” he allowed. “But even a little can go a long way. Look here, near the top of your sweet little slit…” He pointed to her flat mound, a little way down from where her narrow slit started. “Do you see that little pink pearl just starting to peek out?” he murmured.
Alanah looked and was surprised that she did. It looked like a tiny pink nub and it seemed to be the source of the throbbing pleasure he’d given her. Hesitantly, she reached down to touch it herself and was surprised at how sensitive it was.
“Oh,” she whispered. “How did you…what is that? Is that the…the button you were talking about?�
��
“It is,” Bram rumbled softly. “It can bring overwhelming pleasure to a female if you stroke it just the right way.”
“But how…how did I never see this before? How did I never feel it there between my legs?” Alanah asked and answered her own question. “It must be because I’ve been unbloomed all my life.”
“Which doesn’t seem to mean you can’t feel pleasure,” Bram pointed out. His eyes grew half-lidded again. “Which is what I want to give you now, little one.” He leaned down and murmured close to her ear. “I’d like to try to make you come.”
“Come?” Alanah asked, frowning. “Come where?”
“You’ll see if I’m successful. Will you let me try? You don’t think it would hurt you, do you?”
“No…no I don’t think it would hurt exactly,” Alanah said slowly. “So I guess if…if what you want to do makes me feel that way again…” she nodded down to her spread legs where Bram was still cupping her tiny slit loosely in one big hand. “Then I say yes—go ahead and try.”
“All right, little one—just try to relax,” Bram murmured. Then, to her surprise, he slipped the tip of his index finger into his mouth and sucked it.
“What--?” Alanah began
“Just getting it wet—moisture helps,” he told her. “I suppose your pussy doesn’t get really wet and juicy until after you, uh, bloom but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself.”
Alanah wondered why he was so intent on giving her pleasure—that certainly wasn’t usual in a man from any of the stories she’d heard whispered by other newly married females. According to those accounts, most men were impatient to make a woman’s flower bloom so they could shove their shafts inside and seek their own pleasure. Bram seemed to be the doing the exact opposite of that.
But just then her giant’s long, gentle finger was back and this time it was slipping tenderly into her tight folds and targeting that warm, tingling place he had called her button.
She jerked and moaned as he found it—Gods that was intense—and began a gentle massage that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her entire body so strongly she found it hard to breathe.