“What does that--“ she said meekly, but Tamara shushed her, cutting her off.
“I will explain later,” said the elf. “I will.”
She sounded like she could be trusted and Kathryn was too comfortable and happy in the large elf’s arms to spend much energy worrying. She just wanted to lie there with this powerful, domineering fae-elf and let the day pass. Luckily, Tamara seemed to have had a successful hunt shortly before capturing Kathryn, so there was no concern about food for now. They were free to rest together in the ankle-length grass, hiding from the wind and letting closeness pass the time.
It neared noon before they stirred. The shadow cast by the tree they slept under had crept along the ground enough that finally, they were no longer covered. The dry heat of the plains covered them like an invisible film and finally made Tamara release her human and roll away. Kathryn was still tied, of course, but she wormed her way up to a sitting position and then stood. She knew from the experience of the last few days that the huntress would be watching with a smug grin, but that was just her nature.
Kathryn awkwardly jumped back into the middle of the tree’s shade and sat down against the trunk. Tamara found dried meat, water and some edible greens from her pack and fed her human captive more like a patient than a prisoner. With great care. After Kathryn was done, the elf ate as well, and then sat down with her back against the tree’s trunk.
“You... I don’t think I’d survive running away out here, you could untie me,” said Kathryn. It was the first time she had made the suggestion, the lazy morning’s comfort making her think she might have a chance.
“I know you will not run, but I cannot untie you until tonight,” said Tamara. There was a finality to her words that ended the line of conversation immediately.
With a sigh, Kathryn readjusted herself. It was not that she was uncomfortable but being tied up still put a large barrier between her and the huntress. She could walk herself, she could try to help, too. If nothing else, she could repair or wash clothes. Village life, Kathryn realized, had left her entirely unprepared for a life on the plains. She had very little idea of how to survive, but wanted to learn. It would be empowering, she told herself. Maybe after tonight, she would be free of her bonds, at least.
***~~~***
The day passed with Kathryn slowly edging around the trunk of the tree, staying in the shade. She had built up a decent tan over the course of the summer, but far from enough to withstand the sun for any lengthy period of time. After Tamara left her with a “I need to prepare,” she set about fixing up the camp, beginning construction on what seemed to be a small shelter with grass roof and walls.
When the shelter was done, the elf prepared a mat of grass that was placed over a flat, rectangular slab of stone some fifty feet from the tree and their shelter. With a little imagination, it could count as an altar of some kind. There were no other decorations, however. Nothing that really made it seem like a religious item. Tamara simply stood and watched it, and Kathryn watched her.
After a while, the huntress drew her serrated dagger and thrust it into the ground. It bit deeply, no doubt damaging the blade. But what Kathryn focused on the most was the strength put into that thrust. She did not know of anyone from the village who could even come close to burying most of a dagger in hard, dry earth in one push. After once again watch for a while, Tamara opened the waterskin and poured what seemed to be almost all the contents onto the ground and dagger. As if she was encouraging a dagger sapling to grow into a tree.
That seemed to be the end of the elf’s preparations. She looked to Kathryn for a long moment and it sent chills down the seamstress’ spine. The notion of sacrifice entered her mind again, but she could not detect any malice in the powerful elf’s eyes or stature. There was superiority and self-confidence, yes; malice, no. Additionally, there almost seemed to be a tinge of regret to the large elf’s face but it quickly washed away when she sneered, apparently at herself.
“I will get more water,” said Tamara.
After the announcement, the champion walked off. Trudged, almost. It was subtle; something one might not have seen with a passing glance, but Kathryn had observed the elf for several days now. Had come to admire her physique on an aesthetic and, she had to admit to herself, carnal level. There had been something brooding about her ever since the altar was started.
There was nothing Kathryn could do, of course. Still tied up, she just waited and followed the tree’s shade as the afternoon waned and began to give way to the less punishing light of evening. Tamara returned, seeming agitated. She put the almost bursting waterskin down and sat next to it. In the sun, a short distance away from Kathryn.
Occasionally, the elf glanced to Kathryn. Her eyes showed an emotional transition that seemed to start in something soft and warm, only to move into a cold stare, then an almost hateful and dismissive disposition until finally, Tamara was back where she had started, her shoulders rising and falling in a sigh.
“Solon, give me strength,” she said quietly.
Kathryn’s ears perked up at the quiet prayer. She had been growing increasingly nervous as well but still, she could just watch. She did move into the sun again, leaning against the tree as she faced the elf.
“What’s wrong, Tam?”
“Do not call me Tam,” said the elf.
“Alright. But what’s wrong?”
The elf glanced towards Kathryn, seeming about to speak. Then without warning, she got up instead, heading for a small pile of firewood. After hollowing out a small pit in the ground, Tamara set to work starting the fire. It seemed she had brought both flint rocks and some tinder, so the fire did not take too long. Even when the elf did not have to watch the flames like a hawk anymore, she still did. It was not until another five minutes had passed that she looked to Kathryn again.
“I miss the tribe, and the future is uncertain,” said Tamara.
Kathryn really wanted to reply with “Cryptic as always,” but contained herself. Instead, she awkwardly shuffled closer. It was a sign of how serious Tamara was when she could not even manage to produce the amused smile she usually did when Kathryn wormed her way around. After half a minute’s work, she was able to lean her head against the much larger creature’s strong arm.
At first, the gesture, even though it was long in coming, seemed to surprise Tamara. She settled down relatively quickly, though, sighing as she wrapped her left arm around her prey.
“It’ll all be alright, you’ll see,” said Kathryn.
“Maybe,” said Tamara.
The elf seemed determined to brood and Kathryn made no further efforts to lighten her mood save leaning against her. One of the most effective cures for a bad mood that she had found was someone who displayed physically that they liked and accepted you, were there for you, so that was what she tried to will herself to signal for her captor.
They sat there together, in silence, for around a minute. Finally, Tamara disentangled herself and stood. She went over to pick up the waterskin, picked what appeared to be a deeply arched clay plate from her belongings inside the shelter, and then poured water into it. Returning to Kathryn’s side, the elf placed the bowl-plate into the fire, on top of some branches that collapsed at the weight.
The heat was directly on the clay and it did not take too long until the water steamed and small bubbles began to form along the rough sides of the plate. Tamara fished out a small, ornate-looking pouch, one that required attention from Kathryn not necessarily because it was jeweled and rare, but because it was a smooth, dark color. It was so different from the rest of the elf’s muted and often dust-layered belongings.
A strange mixture of herbs entirely unknown to Kathryn was poured into the lazily bubbling water and soon it turned a transparent but very strong-looking green. It was almost as if Tamara was pickling fresh walnuts and their green was leaking into the water at an unprecedented rate. A penetrating, sweet, nutty scent soon wafted from the bowl, again reminding Kathryn of walnuts.
<
br /> Tamara let it boil for another five minutes, then scrunched up what appeared to be a shirt around her hands, and lifted the low bowl out of the fire. Not caught up in the updraft of the fire’s warmth, the nutty scent became even stronger, filling Kathryn’s nostrils as if it was the only thing on the plains. The elf got up, and again pulled something from her belongings.
This time, it was two clay mugs. She returned, setting the mugs down between the two of them, then poured a small portion of the herb mixture for each of them. It was still steaming, so for a few more minutes they sat in silence. Then, it seemed, Tamara believed the drinks had cooled enough. With both hands, she lifted the mug to Kathryn’s lips.
“What is it?” said Kathryn, somewhat worried.
“Drink,” said Tamara.
“What’ll it do?”
“Drink!”
The command was surprisingly loud and made Kathryn lower her head instinctively. She muttered an annoyed, half-hearted protest but still pressed her lips to the mug and drank as Tamara slowly tilted the liquid into her mouth. It tasted much like it had smelled. In fact, as she swallowed, she felt like the liquid spread its warmth into her entire body, not just into her stomach. Her cheeks reddened slightly and she suddenly became very aware of how close she and Tamara were sitting.
Setting Kathryn’s mug down, Tamara lifted her own and emptied it in two large gulps. The effect seemed similar on her, her cheeks flushing, her pupils seeming to dilate almost to the point that the green of her eyes disappeared. Then, the elf grimaced, a hand shooting to her lower stomach, as if she was in pain. For a moment, she clearly forced her eyes shut to contain something. A sound, perhaps.
When her eyes opened again, the first look that Kathryn had seen from her was back. It was a bit of a shock, really, even through the haze of pleasant, warm lust that seemed to be building in her. Tamara was back to being every bit the proud, feral huntress who had first captured the small apprentice seamstress.
“Come,” said Tamara.
The elf reached out, her arm wrapping around her prey’s waist easily, hauling Kathryn up over a shoulder again. She walked with carefully measured steps to the altar that had been created earlier, placing the human girl on her back on the stone slab, finding that she just about fit. The stone was narrow and long, only just fitting beneath her torso.
Tamara stood over the dagger she had thrust into the ground earlier, her eyes closed. From Kathryn’s perspective on the grass-covered stone slab, the elf had just gotten larger still. More imposing than ever, it almost seemed as if the gradually darkening evening sky gathered tension and latent power around her. In the midst of her admiration and withheld lust, the girl thought that perhaps this talk of the elf’s god had been more than tribal ramblings?
Right then, it certainly seemed as if something otherworldly was gathering around them. Not something threatening, but something that expected, but also gave. Kathryn could see Tamara relax, and nod with determination and something that seemed near to awe. It was certainly very deep respect.
And then, the moment was over. The summer sky became just as calming and oddly black-blue as it had been before. Tamara was left behind with purpose, though. That was obvious. More so than purpose, she almost radiated intense force of will. The elf lowered herself to her knees, only her face and shoulders now visible to Kathryn.
Both of the elf’s hands were on the ground as well, Kathryn could tell that much. It seemed as if the huntress prayed with her knuckles against the ground. Soon, though, her face changed, rapidly warping into an almost horrifying grimace. Sweat quickly formed and began to bead, and Tamara’s breathing became so heavy that Kathryn heard it clearly. The elf was in pain, it seemed, but was also gravely determined to bear it.
It carried on for what seemed like an eternity but probably was no more than a minute, then Tamara’s shoulders lowered and her face filled with the kind of pure relaxation and relief that comes after intense pain has been endured. Blinking a few times as if to shake the experience off her, the elf raised her head, those angled, green eyes staring directly into Kathryn’s eyes. Something groundbreaking had happened. There was a kind of gravity in the air that was not dissimilar to the previous moment of otherworldly power.
Tamara stood and immediately, Kathryn’s eyes widened, darting between the elf’s face, and her body. The huntress’ torso was naked, having apparently eased her vest and shirt off during her kneeling minute. She moved forward in a much more threatening way, now. Perhaps she had always moved like that but Kathryn had just not seen it.
While Tamara was certainly well-trained and agile, her muscles added weight to her deceptively slender-looking form. It was this weight that Kathryn felt when the elf lifted her right leg over the stone slab and sat across the human’s lower stomach.
“W-wh... Wh--“ said Kathryn. She could not find the right words, for the first time in her life experiencing truly being lost for words.
Fitting her fingers underneath Kathryn’s midsection, the elf ensured that there was absolutely no wiggle-room. She looked down at her prey, lips parted just enough that she could poke the tip of her tongue out to touch her upper lip. Tamara’s breathing was still elevated but only in excitement, now.
Between Tamara’s legs, weighing heavily down against the apprentice’s front, laid the largest, thickest cock Kathryn had ever seen or heard of. And she had heard of some true beasts. What was more, beneath Tamara’s monstrous shaft rested some scary-looking balls. If size was any indicator of volume, the elf was probably now capable of impregnating every woman within a hundred mile radius.
Kathryn swallowed, the brew dulling her fright enough to make her lick her lips. She knew she should be scared but she swallowed, licked her lips and then looked up at her captor. There was a sort of deer-like quality to her, as if the lynx had caught up and was now considering whether or not to feast on what it had captured. She tried to speak again.
“What... Is this why you...” she said, her voice now coming back under her control to some degree.
“Yes,” said Tamara, her voice sounding surprisingly calm even while she held Kathryn’s body, slowly grinding that mammoth shaft up and down against her skin. “This is why I captured you.”
“You deserve to know,” continued the elf, apparently only half aware of the weighty, toe-curlingly fat cock she was slowly stroking Kathryn’s firm tummy with. “Decades ago, my tribe’s last male died out. We did not want to die out as a tribe, though, so we prayed to the gods for help.”
Kathryn listened, but her eyes were locked on the girthy beast on her stomach. While the elf talked, it seemed as if the shaft still grew. As if it was still just plumbing up. She nodded, captivated by both her apparent incoming death by sex and finally receiving some kind of explanation from Tamara.
“Our goddess of fertility did not respond, nor did any of our other gods. It was not until we beseeched Solon for help that we received an answer. It was not what we had wanted but it was his will and it saved us,” said Tamara, her eyes growing slightly distant as she recounted the story.
“He did not make males wander into our camp. Rather, he required of us that we become warriors, every one. In addition to what we already were. I was a hunter, so it was easy for me. It was not the same for all of us but we made do. In the next decade, slowly, all of us became as you see me now. Taller, stronger, more agile. We believe it was Solon’s work.”
“How does that explain--“ peeped Kathryn, but she was stopped by a stern look from Tamara.
“His next move was to change only some of us. Just over half of us became seedbearers. I am one,” she said, pausing for a moment. The implications of the word seedbearer was clear enough, though, so Tamara continued.
“Each year, on this night, summer solstice to you, those of us who are seedbearers, if with a mate, will become capable of siring children,” she said, nodding idly down to the beast of a cock between her legs. Kathryn almost felt difficulty breathing from the weight of all tha
t hard meat, but still she did not struggle.
“As repayment for all of this, Solon required that each year, one of the tribe’s strongest warriors leave the tribe to find a new mate, and start a new tribe that will function as the old. Thus, his will shall spread across the land as we do. He is bound to us, now, just as we are bound to him,” said the elf.
“Last year, the first human was taken, the first new tribe was attempted started. We sent Eloryn out too unprepared and both Gwenyth and Eloryn perished a short while ago. I have been prepared far better.”
“But... I’m human, and you’re...” said Kathryn.
“Fae, yes,” said Tamara. “What we drank before, it will not only mean that you will be quite safe when we complete the ritual, it also changed you. If you elope with a Fae, you will have Fae children,” said Tamara.
“Why the drink at all?” said Kathryn, thinking more clearly the more they talked. “Why not just, uh... Keep the proportions natural?”
“Gods have their own reasons, little one. Solon is not just the god of battle but also the god of strength and passion. I suppose this is his way of showing overwhelming strength in passion,” said the elf, again motioning to the massive, smooth shaft that now reached from her crotch on the middle of Kathryn’s stomach and up to just barely kiss the lower curve of a breast.
“So, we’re... What if I don’t want to start a new tribe with you?”
“I did not ask,” said Tamara. “Besides, do you ever think you will find a human mate to rival me?”
“N-nh,” Kathryn mumbled. The question burned into her mind. She knew the answer was no but it was still crazy. For her to be abducted, only to act as the mother of an entire tribe, or village. The absurdity of it did not remove the lust that had built in her, though. She had seen the horses in the village mate, at times. And since she was little, she had always had fantasies. Very private, never to be fulfilled fantasies but fantasies nonetheless.
Now, this elf was not only offering her that fantasy in the form of what was weighing down her chest but offering her a safe way to do it, with something that looked far more appealing than a horse’s. If the herbal drink worked, of course, but it still warmed her entire body. She felt the tingle, the teasing warmth and slight nip in her throat that she could not deny was lust. All the way up to her temples, she was hot.
Futanarium 1: An Erotic Short Story Bundle Page 10