Baldric’s discomfort amused her greatly, to say the least. His religious sect was very passive, allowing the ways of life and nature to occur naturally and without interference. Because of this, his frequent threats to “warm her sit-upon” went unnoticed. She complied with his requests, though. Primarily because she felt sorrow that Ilesbet had saddled the poor man with such an unpleasant chore that required him to spirit her far away and keep her out of trouble until the time to return home was upon her. This was an assignment she would wish upon not even her worse enemy. She chuckled, recalling how many times her twin brothers had been called upon for a similar duty when Günter was not available. They had failed miserably, for she managed to escape them within hours of the announcement. How she enjoyed the brilliant red in their faces when she finally allowed them to discover her whereabouts, scoffing at their inability to track a mere female. Both had begged permission from both the king and the crown princes to deliver justice to her bare backside, and had been jovially refused. Daynel smiled with the memory, knowing that they were determined to show their competence as guards the next time they were given the chore. And still, she managed to evade them!
Daynel’s mind returned to the present and she reflected the third day that she and Baldric had traveled together, heading east toward the Great Waters. She had felt restless, uneasy, and understandingly disturbed by the image the Dragon’s Sight had burned into her mind. That same immense, powerful, strange man haunted her dreams now. And there was only one way to wipe away dreams. Mead.
“Baldric! I wish to go into town,” Daynel said wearily, rubbing her back as they plodded through the thick forest. “I want a feather bed and a meal made of something I have not hunted or you have conjured.”
“No, Princess. I have already explained to you the danger of being seen. Hungry men will sell their children for a piece of silver.”
“Such theatrics! My brother would aptly tell you that your place should be as an actor before a king, not a guard for the priestess,” Daynel scoffed. “Come with me and share a mug. It would do you good.”
“No, Princess,” Baldric said patiently. “My sect does not…”
“Drink spirits? The only thing the men in your sect seem to do for pleasure is mount women! You do mount women, and not sheep, right?” she antagonized him.
“Young lady, you are sorely trying my patience. Keep this up and I will warm your sit-upon!” Baldric growled.
Once again, his threat did nothing to prevent her from slipping away from the bedroll that evening and entering a tavern in the nearby village. The locals did not care about her trail-worn appearance, and gleefully welcomed the woman in their midst. After several mugs, Daynel began to challenge her drinking companions to games of skill, placing small wagers upon the table. Pretending to be slovenly drunk with wine, she issued one grand wager in knife throwing and produced a gold coin from her pocket. Slamming it on the table, she hiccupped and swayed, waiting for the prey to snag her bait.
“Five silvers each. Who would refuse such a large pot?” she slurred, her sharp eyes watching the grins rise among the others. Coins piled next to hers and the contest began. Within minutes, Daynel was happily scooping the coins into her pockets. Raucous laughter passed through the crowd and Daynel took that as a warning to leave quickly. One man blocked her path, his knife tip pressed to her throat.
“You stole our money, little girl. We want it back.” His sour breath made her wish to gag.
“I won your money fairly. Now you might have a knife to my throat, but I have one to your balls,” Daynel whispered, her eyes narrowing as she pressed the tip of her dagger against him. “I have no problem deflowering you before you take my life and my money. What have you?”
“I shall…”
“Mistress!” Baldric’s frantic voice called out. “The magistrate approaches and wishes to speak with you. Please hurry, milady.”
Daynel relaxed the hold on her knife as the man quickly withdrew from her and stepped aside. She nodded regally and began to follow Baldric out. In a blur, she turned and hurled a dagger that she had picked up from a table, catching the man’s trousers between his legs, pinning him to the wall. She raised an eyebrow, pleased with the precision of her throw and simply lifted a finger to her lips. With a smile, she hurried out the door and disappeared into the dark woods with Baldric at her heels.
“I thought your sect did not lie,” she chuckled, aware that his silence depicted anger, not an attempt to stay hidden.
“I will tend to you in the morning, Princess.”
“I am certain you will,” Daynel laughed, plopping back down on her bedroll. “Don’t forget to place the charm of protection around us, just in case that man decides to seek me out and try to reclaim his loss.”
She knew that her words would send Baldric into greater concern and, with a quiet chortle, she quickly fell into a deep, and happily dreamless, sleep. She was unaware that Baldric spent the remainder of the night in prayer, begging the gods to send him either wisdom or help. She did not see the eye on her hilt blink as the purple orb surveyed the follower of the priestess, or the ruby fang upon her neck glow like a hot ember. Baldric, task complete, fell to the soft carpeted forest ground, his life force exhausted by the placing of protection over her.
As she predicted, nothing was so much as spoken to her regarding her evening’s activities, nor did Baldric even make a move to discipline her.
“Baldric, you are making the horses nervous. No danger lurks behind the blades of grass,” Daynel finally said, watching him again look behind him as they traveled from town to town. He had good reason to practice caution, for without boundaries, Daynel took the opportunity to enjoy her freedom. No longer worrying about her position as a royal, she slipped away from Baldric’s watchful eye whenever they neared a town or a village. She was more careful this time in her wagers, continuing to surprise herself with her newfound precision in knife throwing, stones, coin tosses, and archery. Baldric grew wise to her exploits, however, and managed to move her out before her image became overtly memorable. He would bundle her onto Firestar, not trying to remove the skin of wine from her hand, and return her to their site to bed her down.
“Why must you continue this way, Princess? You drink spirits every evening now,” he finally asked, his voice weak from fatigue.
“Cannot stop the dreams from coming,” Daynel mumbled into her arm, shaking her head. “They play over and over again. He is always there…he frightens me.”
“The dreams are trying to speak to you. You need to listen to them, not run.”
Daynel looked into his sunken, dark eyes, meeting them knowingly. He looked exhausted, probably from staying awake for hours on end worrying about her. She felt a rush of shame for how she had treated her kind guide. Before she could say anything, she screwed her body to the side to spew the contents of her stomach. Baldric shook his head, holding her hair from her face as her body rejected the intake of the evening. He handed her a water skin as he gently sponged off her forehead.
“You must cease this behavior,” he said softly, holding the water to her trembling lips. “The gods are displeased and are being pressed into punishing you.”
“What? Are they going to ‘warm my sit-upon’?” Daynel laughed miserably. “No one except Günter does that. And he, less than a handful in my lifetime.”
“It is something you have required for many years,” Baldric said. “You feel safety in pain.”
“I most certainly do not,” Daynel spat, glaring at him.
“You are chosen to lead us, Princess. The opening of the Eye,” he glanced at her sword, “and the heartbeat of the fang proves this. Pain is needed for you to feel, for the power to be released into you. You will be a priestess of our people and…”
“And I’m not the only one who’s been sipping the wine. Go to sleep!” Daynel snapped. She closed her eyes and ignored the sound of his chanting as he placed the spell over her vulnerable body and spirit again. She frowned as
he begged the gods for intervention, the last words heard before she drifted away in the world of sleep.
It was in this world that she walked now, along a wide path that seemed to narrow as she went on. The expanse of the world around her became tall walls, and she felt as though she was being pressed in and forced to continue down an unfamiliar hallway. She reached a door and opened it, squeezing her shoulder through the frame. One step inside and she felt her wrist being grabbed by thick, sinewy vine. She pulled against it, struggling to escape its grip. A second vine whipped around her, snatching her other wrist, pulling her further back into a dark chamber. Two more vines entwined themselves about her ankles and Daynel felt panic well within her. Release me! she screamed, but no sound was heard. What is this that is happening to me?! Where is my Dragon Warrior?! She fought helplessly against the rough creepers, her struggle useless as she was dragged over the top of a large, rounded saddle rack. She battled for release, only to feel the tendrils that held her in place tighten firmly and work their way around her waist and the backs of her knees.
Daynel yelled out in frustration and fear as the vines slipped over her body and under her clothing. Without effort, they tugged the soft cloth from her lower half, leaving her bottom and the backs of her thighs naked and vulnerable. She screamed as the tendrils gripping her ankles widened her stance, allowing the slithering branches to slip between her thighs and probe her nether parts. One vine worked its way into her bottom hole, wiggling and seating itself before it began to slowly thicken, stretching her tiny orifice uncomfortably. Daynel cried out, the intrusion to her private place both humiliating and distasteful. She began to release a string of words that was only spoken by whores and those who worked on the docks. Words that were shortly followed by a yelp of pain as one vine raised high and slashed across the span of her white bottom. Daynel’s eyes widened in shock, her ability to actually feel the lash upon her body coming as a surprise. This was a dream! How could this be?
Yet, it continued. The vine slashed again across her pale buttocks, leaving a raised welt in its path. Daynel screamed out her protests, barely able to so much as wriggle from the clutches of the punishing plants. A third lash fell across the soft spot of her bottom, the tender crease that rarely came in contact with the saddle. A howl echoed the dream world as the living whip bit into her, and a torrent of tears flooded from her eyes.
“Baldric! Awaken me!” she begged as the vines began to punish her bottom in earnest, each lash sharp and exact, all the while the single vine that invaded her bottom wiggled and swelled within her, disabling her from clenching her cheeks together.
In the waking world, Baldric did not respond to her audible pleas, ignoring the whimpers he heard from her bedroll. Instead, he rolled to look at the star-studded sky and thank the gods for their intervention.
Daynel’s torment continued. She had no sense of time or space as the vines hastened in their duty to both restrain her movement and force her to submit to her discipline. Her cries became muffled as she slumped with exhaustion and she released herself to the power of the gods and their correction. Her mind drifted to the cosmos, a deep sable pierced by pinpoints of starlight. She gazed through the window of her mind, back down through the trees that stood like warriors around her sleeping body. Their shadows wrapped around the light that fell like a subtle ray from the blue-white ghost of the moon, warming her spirit and soothing her pain.
The man entered through the darkness of the trees, and she watched as the ancient branched soldiers parted and bowed in his presence. He was pure power. From the sharp gaze of his violet eyes to the sturdy footfalls of his steps, he demanded veneration. Unable to meet his eye without wavering, Daynel lowered her face and submitted to him. She felt the vines release their hold upon her, and she slid to her knees before the magnificent creature’s feet. Her desire to worship him was overwhelming, and she fell to her face, her lips upon the booted foot that rested upon the dense grass.
“Rise, child,” his voice reverberated through the wooded glen. He placed a finger upon her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “Rise and share Sight with me.”
“Who are you, Master?” Daynel whispered, slowly obeying as the pain from her punished bottom bore down to her legs. He looked down upon her and smiled gently, his white teeth framed by soft, sensuous lips. His eyes held hers as he touched a tear on her cheek.
“I am He,” he answered simply, reaching down to touch those beautiful lips to her forehead. “Take my hand, little one, and do not be afraid.”
Any fear that Daynel had within her melted with his touch. His hold was strong, confident, and dared anything to come between them. He hummed quietly to himself, a vaguely familiar tune, as he led her down a narrow path and into a small cave. Where had she heard that song before? He squeezed her hand assuredly as he felt her hesitate, and she followed in silence. The cave opened to a large, enclosed cavern from which dripped hundreds of tiny waterfalls into clear, icy pools that sparkled in the light of glowing gems. Daynel froze mid-step, taken in by the ethereal beauty before her. The walls glowed with unearthly, twinkling light and gem-studded flowers blossomed about the edges of the pools, unleashing a heady scent that made Daynel want to simply drop to her knees and purr.
“Join me, child,” the man said softly, entering the center of the largest pool. Daynel’s eyes widened as rainbows of color rippled from him as his body, suddenly naked, submerged itself. She gulped and followed, feeling her clothing disappear from her slender form as she timidly reached toward his outstretched hand. He pulled her close to him, pressing her firmly against his smooth, golden chest. Once she relaxed in his embrace, he entwined his fingers in hers and drew their arms apart, lifting his chin to the ceiling.
Daynel watched as his eyes glowed and changed before her, resembling the slit, reptilian eye that stood guard in her sword’s hilt. Fear began to tug at her heart as his grip upon her hands grew stronger, forbidding release. His skin took on a luminous radiance as giant, indigo blue wings stretched from the backs of his shoulders. She trembled as a ring of fire encircled them, sitting atop the still water and sending off sparks of glittering blues and greens.
His fingers relaxed and he released his hold, moving the palms of both hands to rest on the tops of her arms. Despite her fear, she was drawn to him like a moth to a fire, and she lifted her mouth to accept his. Firmly, he pressed his lips upon hers and drank of her essence as a small, throaty growl reverberated deep in his throat. Daynel lifted her arms to coil around his thick neck, deepening the kiss. Her curious hands reached to tentatively touch the bases of the wings and subconsciously began to stroke the velvety softness that covered them. The gesture caused the dragon man to groan with pleasure and she felt his manhood rise between them.
“Will you share vision with me?” he asked huskily, his palms steadying either side of her face as he stared down upon her, those same violet eyes capturing her heart in their unyielding grip. She nodded, convinced that she was still somewhere in the world of dreams and that the sensations upon her body were nothing more than a trick of her mind. Even her pain had been altered, churning as pleasure and longing within the deepest part of her soul. Her yearning to lose herself in the dragon’s eyes grew as she placed her own palms upon his high-boned cheeks.
“Yes. Whatever type of dream this might be, I will surrender to it.”
“Then give yourself to me, Princess. Open yourself for me.”
Daynel moaned as she felt his hand stroke down the left side of her body and edge its way gently between her thighs. Her breathing grew raspy as he began to encircle her secret button with a broad, surprisingly gentle finger. Unable, and unwilling, to resist his probing upon her, Daynel spread her thighs wider to allow him access. She felt the cool water lap her flesh, caressing her skin and kissing away the searing heat from her punishment. Sliding his hands to her tiny waist, the man lifted her from the waters and brought her breasts to level with his mouth. Enclosing his lips around a nipple, he began to suck
le upon it, watching Daynel’s face as she responded to the touch of this mysterious, unnamed man.
Daynel’s thoughts whirled in her head, dispelling everything that distracted her from sinking into the power of his gaze. Unable to break contact with his eyes, Daynel merely watched as he made love to her small, pert breasts. He flicked his tongue teasingly against one pink tip before tracing the outline of her areola. Pebble-hard, her nipple seemed to stretch in the direction of his mouth, demanding more attention. Attention that was immediately offered as he enclosed her soft mound in the hot moistness of his lips. After thoroughly milking one side, leaving her both sore and pleasured, he moved to the other. Suckling, nipping, and licking, the man brought her to such need that Daynel wrapped her legs around his waist and sought out the stiff pole that waved uninhibitedly in the direction of her untouched womanhood.
Without asking, Daynel reached between her legs and grasped the bulging tip of his rod in her hand. It was very thick and long, and Daynel fought back the fear of his harming her as she guided it toward the place of her need. Her body was slick with her own juices, inviting the penetration of the desired stranger. She felt wantonly dizzy and edged the tip into her waiting body, carefully maneuvering it just past the opening. His eyes locked her again and large, muscular arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer to him. She felt the organ shrink in width, sliding easily into her depths and settling there.
But then he rose out of the water, his huge wings stretching and slowly flapping as he brought the two of them into the air. Still embedded deep within her, the dragon man plunged his tongue into her mouth and, at the same time, his cock widened. Daynel’s initial cry of pain was muffled by his kisses, and he held her suspended in mid-flight as he began to lunge his shaft into her virgin body. Daynel clung to him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he turned to face the floor of the cave, holding her tightly in his arms to keep his body anchored between her trembling thighs. The motion of gentle falling and rising as he slowly flapped his wings added to the sensation of her pleasure. His movement grew harder, more forceful, as they both extended themselves toward the ultimate release. Daynel’s moans, joined by the dragon man’s roar, echoed the cave as they reached the moment of linking and he wrapped his giant wings around her and spiraled into the depths of the pool.
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