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CHAPTER 2

{The jungle... a savage and unforgiving place that is full of all sorts of creatures great and small. Within its dense green underbrush there are beasts which would kill without a second thought, their blood lust so great that they go into frenzies at the slightest provocation. There are ones that use poison with sharp fangs and painful quills. Others, large lumbering things that trample you under foot and crush your bones in their wake. And lastly there are the true monsters that hide in the shadows. Beasts that are capable of tearing you from limb to limb with their great strength and feasting upon your flesh like it was nothing but another meal for them. It is beasts of this caliber true warriors search for. Because it is only the bravest of males who can show no fear and laugh in the face of these terrible creatures with their razor sharp teeth and slash claws. And there is no other warrior who is braver, stronger, more skilled, and as handsome. I repeat that last part in case everyone didn't hear me. HANDSOME! There is none other who is more than any of those things then the great MIKTES OF HESTRY CLAN... first son of the current chief and pride of the entirety of his home village.}

The deep jungle was frightfully quiet that day, the usual sounds of the winged beasts squawking in their nests and the chittering of the small earthbound creatures having grown quiet. As the sunlight from high above filtered down between the dense canopy and crisscrossing vines it was as if every single living thing knew instinctively that if it were to survive it had better remain silent. Their seemingly strange behavior was correct of course. Because you see... there was a reason for them to be frightened that day. Stealthily making its way through the green foliage and mud there was a hunter on the prowl. It's skill at killing its prey was unmatched... it's intelligence tremendous, and its strength almost unheard of. This man... no this warrior slowly making his way through the underbrush he could feel himself grin. Excitement of the hunt he was on giving him a thrill as he stalked. Pushing aside a large leafy fern the hunter suddenly picked up a small sound in the distance, his pointed ears twitching and his long tail thrashing wildly as his turned towards its source. Today... he told himself, would be a good day.

Breaking out into a run the hunter pushed past branches and debris, racing at full speed towards the source of the small sound and hopefully to his next meal. It only took a few minutes of this brisk pace for him to find the animal which had gained its attention. Up in a tree was a small furry beast, its long and three fingered hands helping it to climb higher. It was plump and ripe for the picking, the small animal too concerned with gathering fruit to realize that it had been spotted. But luck was on this puny animal's side however. The hunter sneering at it from his hiding spot in the foliage the warrior muttered a quiet, "Too small", before he moved on.

Heading deeper into the maze of trees and ferns the hunter spotted more opportunities for prey. A large rotund beast on four legs which was timidly munching on some leaves, a group of winged creatures who fought amongst themselves, a sluggish lizard which was too fat to move on its own legs. But as each of these beasts was presented to him he passed them by. One too timid, the other too small. Making them in his eyes as unworthy of his time. It was only as the sun began to dip below the horizon that the hunter finally spotted something of interest. Coming upon a large clearing the weapon wielding warrior found a mighty beast drinking calmly at a pond. The monster was large; almost six times his size with razor sharp fangs that protruded six inches from his reptilian snout and scaly red skin covered sparsely in tuffs of brown hair and several rows of sharp twisted quills. 'This beast...' He thought smugly. 'This is a kill worthy of my greatness.'

Quietly the hunter stepped out from the shadows of the jungle trees, his simple loincloth clothed form revealed in the low light of the setting sun. He was a formable looking being with bulging muscles and olive green skin which covered the entirety of his thickset six-foot five frame. His hair, little of it that there was, was bright orange and ran over the top of his head and down the back in short tuffs which swayed lightly in the gentle breeze that coursed through the clearing.

Raising his weapon, a simple tool which consisted of a rock connected to a sturdy carved and sharpened stick via rope, the young hunter stalked towards the oblivious beast which had caught his attention. Walking closer and closer to the large animal the warrior could feel himself begin to sweat. The kill had to be fast and precise he knew or else the animal would get the better of him. He would use his weapon to strike it on the back of the head, dazing it long enough to allow him enough time to use the sharpened end of his weapon to end it's simple life.

The brave warrior's plan however didn't go as he had expected. The wind suddenly changing direction and sending his sent wafting over to the beast's sensitive nose, alerting it to his presence. Sniffing the air the creature raised his head and turned towards the source, silted eyes growing wide as he took notice to the hunter standing in his midst. There were several moments of silence as the two stared at each other in surprise, then with a mighty roar that shook the entirety of the jungle the beast shifted around and charged with deadly intent. With several hundred pounds of rampaging animal coming at him the hunter realized he had to act fast or else he would end up flattened. So letting out his own war cry the olive skinned warrior rushed forward to meet the beast head on, jumping into the air and swinging his weapon down with a mighty crack upon his intended prey's head. Unfortunately the powerful attack didn't seem to have the desired effect on its target. The creature merely giving an almost cynical snort before it head butted the warrior and sent him flying several feet through the air and right into the trunk of a nearby tree.

Sliding down to the ground the green hunter let out a growl of frustration as his whole body reeled in pain. But the agonizing throbbing of his forming injuries wouldn't deter him from finishing this, no. He would not allow himself to be tossed aside like that and not get his revenge. "Stupid beast!" He seethed as he shakily got to his feet. "You think you can kill me monster? I am Miktes! The first son of the Hestry clan's chief and a Verdomian warrior who will not be taken down by the likes of you!" Glaring at his prey the hunter threw his weapon to the ground and motioned for the beast to approach. "Come at me if you dare!"

The beast answered the challenge by letting loose another earthshaking roar and charging at high speed. Unlike the first time though, Miktes was ready, digging his heels into the earth below his feet and bracing himself for the impact. When the beast finally did collide with him, the jungle quaking from the very force, Miktes was pushed back a few inches his back hitting the tree behind him. But just as it appeared that Miktes would be crushed under the monsters sinister clawed feet he suddenly reached forward and grabbed both of the creature's sharp tusks, push back against the rampaging animal with equal strength.

"You really thought you could beat me didn't you." Miktes smirked as he began to walk forward, the animal before him having to walk backwards as he reasserted his dominance. "I am the future leader of my people!" With a mighty laugh the proud and strong warrior twisted the monster's head to the right, sending its large body to the ground with a heavy thud. "I am the strongest, mightiest, greatest warrior this world has ever known and you will be honored to fall at my feet!" The beast now on its side Miktes climbed on top of it and began to strike it with his fist, smashing through scale and bone with tremendous power. "I... AM... THE-"

"-biggest liar I've ever had the misfortune of listen to!" A voice called out.

Suddenly the scene around the hunter and his prey began to ripple and shift. "W-WHO SAID THAT!?" Miktes asked in confusion. Suddenly the creature under the warrior unceremoniously bucked the bewildered man off of itself as if he weighed nothing, causing him to fall right into a conveniently placed mud puddle.

Rubbing his now sore bottom and wiping the caked on grim from his face, Miktes cursed loudly then glared up at the creature who had just dared to throw him to the ground. To his immense surprise the beast had somehow managed to stand up on its hind legs and was currently staring down at him with a pitying look, it's clawed paws resting on its hips. "You heard me." The creature spoke with a chiding tone. "You Miktes of Hestry clan are nothing but a big... fat... liar!"

***************

With a sulky huff a slightly huskier, surlier looking Miktes glared around the dusty and weapon strewn training ground at the group of young male Verdomians seated around him in a semicircle. "You'd dare call me a liar?!" Miktes demanded as he jumped to his feet. "I am telling ya I killed a huge Bahjack with nuffing more but these bare hands!!" The angry Verdomian shook his fist at the crowd, challenging anyone in the training grounds who would doubt him.

A strong looking green haired Verdomian, braver then the others in the gathering stood to the challenge, chin stick out defiantly as he confronted the liar. "There is no way you single handedly killed Bahjack!" He declared. Several other members of the crowd thankful someone had said what they were all thinking nodded in agreement. "It takes a whole hunting party to even injure one of those monsters and even then it's nearly impossible to break through its thick hide"

"Besides oh mighty Miktes" Another voice said sarcastically, courage growing among the other warriors. "We all know you don't know a thing about proper hunting? You couldn't even hold your hunting weapon the right way during demonstrations!" At that everyone in the training ground broke out into uproarious laughter at the now red faced Miktes' expense. Oblivious to the fact that as they gleefully chortled the subject of their amusement was growing angrier and angrier with each passing second.

Miktes tried to calm himself down as the snickering and insults rained down on him from all directions, after all his father had made him promise to not start any more fights. But after someone began to make fun of the way he ate his food, comparing him to a glutinous animal which wallowed in mud he finally snapped. "That's it I'm gonna kick all yer asses!!" With a roar Miktes launched himself towards the crowd, descending upon the nearest boy he could find and throwing a hard right hook that connected with the unsuspecting warrior's jaw with a loud thwack. With his first victim clutching his face and moaning in pain Miktes moved on to his next, grabbing him by his loin cloth as he tried desperately to scuttle away from the enraged bully. What followed next was pure chaos, the group descending into a childish skirmish of fists and insults. Young men either trying futilely to fight back against Miktes or run away from him as the red headed Verdomian let loose one of his infamous temper tantrums, cursing, kicking, and even biting whoever had the misfortune to come within his reach.

Above the clamor on a hill which overlooked the group several older Verdomians watched the youths as they scuffled in the mud and grass of the village's warrior training field. "I swear that boy is more trouble then he's worth." One man said with a sigh. "Daleer needs to really rein him in one of these days."

"I agree with you full heartedly." An elderly woman added as she witnessed the event below them. "But what can we do if he doesn't? That impudent little brat is going to one day be the leader of our people. Strangers help us when that happens."

Back down at the training grounds a triumphant Miktes dropped the last of his opponents to the ground and began happily strutting around the dirt filled area pumping his fists into the air and letting out a series of self-congratulatory whoops. "That'll teach the lot of ya!" With a snub of his rounded nose Miktes turned and began walking back towards the village. "Ain't no one who can make fun of me and get away with it without a busted lip!"

Watching as their tormentor left the other young males cursed and sneered back at him for the fact that once again he had trounced all of them into submission. Then again, several of them knew, they should be used to it by now. Fights started by the pompous warrior being an almost daily event. Ever since Miktes had been a small boy he had been the kind of person who was quick to temper and even quicker to use his fists to solve his own problems. It hadn't been so bad when he was younger but now at his age his behavior was seen more as bullying on an epic scale. Not even the adults were immune to his terror. As Miktes padded towards the crowd of adults who had been watching, he gave a menacing growl and raised both his hands in an intimidating pose. When the group reacted to his antics by jumping out of his way as quickly as possible, Miktes grinned smugly and let out a deep belly laugh before he pushed past them and made his way back into the village for a post celebratory lunch. It always made him hungry after he "played" with his fellow warriors at the training grounds.

Making his way through the main street of the stone brick and mortar built village he called home Miktes pushed his way through the throngs of people all shopping at the many stalls which sold all sorts of goods. This was always his favorite place to be during this time of day not only was the best food being cooked nice and hot, but it also gave him a chance to revel in the fact that he was the son of their current chief, Miktes using his station to get whatever he wanted. Of course this behavior didn't go over to well with the merchants who owned businesses. No, they all hated the young warrior, a series of grumbles and whispered insults following in his trail as he passed them by.

These looks of scorn and harsh words didn't bother Miktes though. He had long ago learned to completely ignore them and gleefully made his way over to a stand selling fruits with no mind to them. Not so casually he pushed the other customers shopping out of his way so that he himself could rummage through the selection for several minutes, tossing what he didn't like over his shoulder until he picked up the ripest looking fruit he could find. Then without paying he walked away simpering smugly as the old woman who owned the stand scowled back at him. Food in hand the lumbering man began browsing through the rest of the marketplace, passing the cloth weavers shop where he accidentally splattered some of his fruits dark red juice on the bright white dress they were making as he bit down on it. Then after having had enough of the fruit he threw it over his shoulder a poor pottery maker not seeing it on the ground until he slipped and stumbled backwards head over heels, the crate of dishes he had in his hands coming down with a terrible crash that accompanied a series of panicked shouts.

Miktes was indifferent to all the chaos and mayhem he had caused in his wake however, cheerfully continuing on his merry way if he hadn't just ruined several of his fellow villager's days. Leaving the crowded main street behind and heading down a much quieter street which led back to his home. "I wonder of mama has the afternoon meal ready yet?" He wondered aloud. At the thought of his mother's food Miktes' mouth began to water. In his opinion there was nothing better than eating the food she prepared. On second thought there was one thing... sex. Something which Miktes hadn't had in nearly four hours.

The soft giggling of a group of three Verdomian girls around his age drew the salivating warrior's attention away from thoughts of food and to more obscene things. Like all Verdomians the group of women were a little thickset though not as much as the males. Their shapely bodies and ample bosoms barely contained in their long patterned dresses which gently swayed from left to right as they walked. Just the sight of them was enough to make Miktes' blood begin to heat. He could use a good lay after working up all that energy beating the tar out of his rivals. In fact bedding someone would just about make this day dammed perfect in his eyes.

Strutting his way over to the gaggle of females as nonchalantly as he could, Miktes leaned against the side of a post and gave them a look which on a more handsome face would have been appealing, but only caused his features to appear even angrier. "Hello..." The women all nodded towards him and gave the barest of hellos before passing him as if he weren't there. A bit disappointed at being brushed off so casually Miktes quickly stepped in front of the group, giving them the biggest grin he could muster as he held his hands open in a welcoming manner. "Come on, don't you have time to talk to the chief's firstborn son?"

The tallest of the trio, a proud looking woman with light purple hair tied back into a long ponytail gave a sigh. "No I don't suppose it'll hurt us that much to have words with you Chief's son." She said flatly. "I am Ocher of Woncig clan and these are my two sisters Donces and Dtirh. Now that we have told you our names will you please excuse us? We have to make it to the marketplace before it closes."

"Really now?" Miktes said back not really listening. Again the young warrior let his eyes travel down the other Verdomian's body, focus zeroing in on certain parts of her anatomy in an obscene matter. They were all beautiful but the one speaking with him had to be one of the most gorgeous females in the entire village. Miktes could already imagine her without the bothersome dress she wore on.

Seeing herself being ogled in such an open and obscene manner Ocher made a sound of utter disgust. "Excuse us Chief's son, but if we have talked to you enough now how about we leave you to your own devices."

It took a few moments for what had been said to fully register in Miktes' lust fogged brain. And when he saw the trio try to leave again he rushed to speak. "How about I go and escort you three to the market place then? Act as your body guard." He suggested. There was no way he could let these three beauties slip always just yet. "Maybe you..." He looked past Ocher to her two younger companions. They weren't bad either in the right light he supposed. "...Or one of your friends could even be so kind to accompany me to my home afterwards. I have a really comfortable bed I could share."

One of the trio went to accept his offer but was quickly silenced by the other two. "No thank you Chief's son." Ocher repeated more sternly. "I'm sure we can find our own way around." That said she and her two sisters pushed past Miktes with huffs and flicks of their tails. "And I don't think we're that desperate."

Miktes narrowed his eyes at their refusal to bed with him but shrugged it off letting them go. There would be others who would gladly accept an offer to be bedded by him, if only because they wished to gain favor with the next chief. Eyes drifting away from the retreating backs of the three girls who had rejected him Miktes took notice to a male Verdomian who had been watching the whole event. He was soft and pudgy, even for one of their kind. His simple and dirty kilt wrapped around his waist and lack of tattoo upon his chest telling Miktes that he was of low class in the community. 'Now this is interesting.' Miktes said to himself. 'Getting what I want from him should be a lot easier then with those three.'

Padding over to the timid looking boy, Miktes licked his lips and let his eyes explore him. Noticing every curve and inch of skin he took equal pleasure in this younger man's body as he had in the three women's he had just been trying to seduce. Like all Verdomians Miktes was bisexual. Males and females were both equally appetizing to the lusts of all sexually active warriors, the act of sex seen as just another part of life to be shared and enjoyed. The bigger thing in most Verdomian's minds was whether the person who caught your eye was either a submissive or a dominate. A submissive being the most sought after bedmate for a dominate who was in the mood for a rutting. A pairing between two dominates could cause trouble both fighting for control but could be fun if played right.

That purple haired woman who had just told him to leave her alone was most likely a dominate the strength she had used to deny him the pleasure of her company greatly dwarfing her two friends. But a nice little submissive like the younger man in front of him was just what Miktes felt like that day he realized. Deciding to take a more direct approach to how he handle his first choice of bedmates Miktes leaned down so that him and the boy were eye level and growled lightly. "Hello."

The younger male glanced down at his feet face suddenly turning red. "H-Hello Chief's son Miktes." He said shyly. It was intimidating to have one of the most important people in the village speaking to him.

That was just the response Miktes wanted. This guy was going to be putty in his hands. The fat little submissive was already about to orgasm from just his simple growl. "What's your name?"

Jerkily the submissive boy held up a large jug which he had been carrying. Its contents swishing around from the sudden movement. "I'm-I'm Nyroh, the wine makes third son." He said proudly yet quietly. "I was just taking my father's latest batch up from the fermenting basement so we could sell them at our stand."

Miktes snatched the jug out of Nyroh's hands and sniffed its contents. The tangy sweet flavor tickling his bulbous nose and making him hum in appreciation. Deciding to have a taste the red head brought the jug up to his mouth and took a long swill of it, wine dripping down his chin as he swallowed. "Humm... Good." Miktes admitted with a nod

"Thank you chief's son." Nyroh said bashfully. "It's one of my father's best brews."

"It shows." The other man managed to say in-between gulps. "I could drink this stuff all day." Finishing his drink, Miktes wiped his chin then reached down and groped himself through his loincloth, making sure that Nyroh saw how large he was beneath the dull white fabric. "You think this will be enough payment for a few more jugs?"

Nyroh's eyes which had been focused on Miktes' dirty actions snapped back up to the taller male's face. "Y-You want to bed with me?" He asked, a look of astonishment crossing his features. "But I am just the third son of a lowly winemaker."

Miktes shrugged. "I don't give care about that, all I know is I'm horny and you'd like it if I'd fucked you, right?" Miktes let out another low growl and placed his hand down atop the winemaker's head, gently running his fingers through the short tuffs of yellowish hair the other man sported. "So you going to drop that kilt covering up your good bits and lets me see what you have to give me submissive."

Nyroh took a large gulp of air and nodded profusely to the offer. "Come on we can do it in the fermenting basement no one will bother use down there." Hurrying before the dominate could change his mind, the hefty man made his way over to a set of steps which led down into the ground, motioning for Miktes to follow him as he did. Miktes the heat in his body rising at the prospect of having sex took another drink from the jug he was holding then chased after the other man.

Several minutes later, down in the basement a kneeling Nyroh was nervously giving Miktes' an inexperienced blow job while the older man leaned against the wall and helped himself to yet another jug of wine. "You've done this before?" Miktes asked absently. He had had to remind the submissive boy a few times to watch his teeth.

"Y-yes chief's son I have." Nyroh replied almost guiltily. "With Wecserr, a friend of my older brothers. He's one of the warriors who frequents the training grounds with you so you should know him."

A frown crossed Miktes' face at the mention of that name. Wecserr was the one who had first challenged his story that day leading to everyone making fun of him. "I know him." Pushing Nyroh away Miktes wagged his heavy and large cock in Nyroh's face. The blunt head slapping against the chubby Verdomian's cheek. "Bet that jerk doesn't have a tilling arm as big as mine, does he?"

"No he doesn't Chief's son." Nyroh said his mouthwatering. The eager young man went to start sucking on the red head's cock again but was stopped by a firm hand on his forehead. "D-did I do something wrong."

"Nope you did good sucking on me, but it's time we move on to something else." Miktes pointed over to a barrel an almost evil looking smirk appearing on his face. "It's time I breed you boy, present yourself."

Nyroh immediately did as he had been commanded, a deep part of his natural instincts driving him to obey a dominate males wishes. Stepping up to the barrel he quickly unbuckled the belt to the simple kilt which covered his body and let the piece of clothing fall to the ground. His meaty and rounded backside being revealed as the thick fabric fell. "Is this good enough?" He asked. With a whine he raised his tail and bent his back exposing his furrow for the other man to do with as he pleased.

A dark chuckle was the reply to Nyroh's question along with a pair of large hands coming to rest on his naked rear end. "More then good enough." Miktes said happily. "You ready for a little fun sub?" Not waiting for an answer the taller man began to grind his erection against the warm green crack of his soon to be conquest. "I'm going to fuck you're so hard you're going to remember me for weeks."

"Please." Nyroh whimpered. Miktes gladly gave the winemaker's son what he wanted, positioning his cock at the boy's rear entrance and pushing in without any warning. Nyroh let out a moan of satisfaction which soon turned into a series of happy squeals as Miktes began to pump his cock, the dull sound of green skin slapping against green skin echoing through the dark and damp wine cellar as they began to rut.

Pleased by the complete submission of the man under him Miktes let out a bark of laughter and began drinking from his wine jug again, liquid dripping down his chin and onto Nyroh's bare back. "Definitely one of my better days!" He said smugly.

{Humm... I can still remember how good that guy's ass felt that day. The way he pushed back against me and all those nice little sounds he made while I used my dick to plow.... Oh... yeah sorry about that got a little caught up remembering, heh. Who the hell am I? Well, I'm the lucky bastard over there having the time of his life in an old wine cellar. But you can call me by my official title: Miktes of Hestry clan, the best example of what every dominate male in the village should try their damdest to be. And to anyone who says otherwise well you're just jealous that you're not as important as I am. After all, I am the first son of the Hestry clan, the most powerful and influential family in the entire village and because my father is the current chief that means that when he steps down I'm going to be in charge around here, so I'm always right. Then there's my personal qualities: I'm the strongest, the most skillful, the handsomest, and the smartest Verdomian warrior you'll ever come across and everyone better agree to that or else, got it? Unfortunately there are some people who disagree with me, like my father. But they don't bother me much, specially when I have others, like this little guy under me right now, who drop to my feet and worship me like the future chief I am. If I were an honest Verdomian I might even consider taking him as a mate, of course I'd never do that. Why sample the same slab of meat again and again when you can have as many different meals. And with my position as "chief's son" I'm in no short supply of meals!}

His breath coming out in loud huffs Miktes began to feel his orgasm coming up on him, his body tingling as he edged himself closer and closer to release. Nyroh had came long ago, several times in actually. The younger Verdomian spilling his small load of cum onto the basement floor as he rode out the rough thrusting behind him with gleeful moans and grunts. "I'm about to cum into your ass you slutty sub." Miktes called out suddenly. Gripping the other man's hips the warrior began to drive himself into his ass harder and with longer strokes. "It'll only take a few more moments of-"

"THERE YOU ARE!"

At hearing the all too familiar voice call out to him, Miktes stopped dead in his tracks and made a hissing sound that was half way between annoyance and embarrassment. Eyes' rising up from Nyroh and to his left Miktes was dismayed to see an older Verdomian wearing a long flowing kilt around his waist and an elaborate headdress standing there on the steps which led down into the basement. He was a gruff looking man, his tusks chipped a little from his advance age and his large muscular arms crossed over his chest in a display of stern disapproval. "Hello father." Miktes said with a pout. Pulling out of Nyroh the guilty Miktes tried his hardest not to look like some youngling caught doing something naughty. But the illusion instantly crumbled under the harsh scrutiny of his father. "I'm in a little bit of trouble aren't I?"

The older Verdomian gave his son a look of disappointment and slowly nodded his head. "You are in more than a little bit of trouble, my son." Storming over to his son, Miktes' father grabbed his wayward son by the arm and began pulling him towards the stairs which led outside. "Just what do you think you're doing down here cavorting about when you should be at the training ground or better yet at your lessons learning how to become chief?"

Miktes dug his heels into the dirt floor of the basement, forcing his father to stop and pulled his arm out of his grasp. "Training and lessons do me no good father!" Miktes argued. "I'm already smart enough, and I'm strong enough to beat the tar outta every one of the other warriors."

"Ah yes I heard about..." Realizing that they were not alone Daleer looked over to the third person in the room noticing that the boy's green face was turning a terrible shade of purple out of humiliation at being caught and being in the middle of their disagreement. Taking pity upon the stuttering lad the Verdomian chief motioned for him to pass them. "Um, would you please excuse us young man." He said kindly. "I believe your father will probably be wondering where you are with his wine. And please send my house the bill for everything this one here drank during your little... um, fun."

"T-thank you Chief Daleer." Nyroh said. After giving Miktes a quick smile and grateful nod the still naked boy gathered his discarded clothing and beat a hasty retreat, his tail between his legs as he rushed away.

Daleer watched for a few moments as a now mortified young man ran past him and up the stairs. His eyes drifting briefly to the submissive's rounded backside as it disappeared out of sight. But he soon snapped out of his small trance when he heard his son chuckle behind him. "And what has you laughing my son?"

"I saw you looking father." Miktes said with a wicked grin. "He's a real good piece of ass isn't he? Bet you wish you were still a young and single like me so that you could run off with him."

Feeling that this wasn't an appropriate lane of conversation to go down with his son Daleer gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed him by the arm again, leading the still undressed man out of the basement and back up to the street. "By the strangers what am I to do with you?" He asked as they stepped outside. "First you go and attack you fellow warriors, then you make a mess out of the marketplace, and now I find you sleeping with some person who I bet you just met."

"Well you could start by letting me pull up my damn loincloth!" Miktes huffed. Pulling his arm out of his father's grasp the younger male glared at him and quickly pulled up his loincloth. "And as for all that other stuff it wasn't my fault. The other men were disrespecting me by laughing and the people at the market place need to watch where they're going."

Daleer ran his fingers through his jet black hair tuffs. The temptation to pull his own hair out tugging at the back of his mind. Why did his son always have to be such a handful? "Miktes..." He began. "When are you going to start acting like an adult?"

"I act like an adult." Miktes was quick to defend. "What I was doing down at the training ground and in that basement prove it. Only a grown ass man like me could beat all those other warriors and find a bedmate so quickly afterwards."

"Yes you are full grown my son, but only in body not in mind." Not elaborating any further Daleer began strolling down the street, making sure that his son was following after him. Walking in silence for several minutes the pair came upon a more crowed area with many other Verdomians drifting about. Elderly men and women quietly chatting amongst themselves as they enjoyed their afternoon meals on their porches, children playing in the streets under the watchful eyes of their mothers, and submissives busy doing their daily household chores. The entire area showing that Daleer's people were indeed a prosperous and well off.

Of course Miktes barely paid attention to the others around them his gaze focused on his father's back as they made their way down the street in silence. Usually Miktes would have been thankful for this lull in the conversation, liking the quiet as opposed to the usual lectures he got from his father whenever he misbehaved. But after what his dad had just said it only served to unnerved him. The words bouncing about his simple mind until he couldn't stand them anymore and spoke up. "What did you mean I'm an adult in body but not in mind father?" He finally asked with a grumpy huff.

Daleer couldn't help but smile at his son's question. All it took was a simple cryptic statement to make the brutish young man to stop and think for once. This was something that he sorely needed to do more often. "How long has it been since you're coming of age ceremony Miktes?" He asked seemingly out of the blue.

Miktes narrowed his eyes, not understanding why his father had sidestepped what he had asked. "It's... been around three seasonal rounds, right?" He replied. Miktes couldn't help but smile at the memory of the grand party which had been held at the village's central temple. He had gotten drunk off of the sweet wine and passed out after a night of pleasant company with a number of new bedmates who wished to congratulate him now that he had become an adult. That night was the first time Miktes had ever slept with anyone, the boy turned man quickly learning what joyous sensations were to await him in his future.

"You are right, it has been three and in the time all I have seen you do is meander around the village causing all sorts of trouble and sleeping with anyone who you can get your hands on." Daleer waved his hand towards a group of young people around Miktes' age who were passing by them, the group pleasantly talking amongst themselves about their work that day. "And while you did these immature things your fellow dominates were busy learning what it truly means to be adults. Working hard in our fields or hunting, taking their responsible places in society, and most of them have learned how to put childish and petty things behind them and treat each other with kindness and respect."

Miktes scoffed at his father's words. The entire speech left a bad taste in his mouth in fact. From his point of view all that had happened to his once friends was that they had become boring and stuck up. None of them believing his stories anymore and treating him like he was some sort of simpleton. "Who wants to be all those things?" Miktes asked haughtily. "It's more fun to do things the way I do them."

"But don't you see "those things" are what it means to be an adult Miktes!" Daleer pressed. "As next chief you should exemplify these traits, not make mockeries of them!" The older man gave his son an almost pleading look which was instantly deflected by a defiant snort.

"I'm fine just as I am father." Miktes insisted. "All being chief will mean for me is that I'll be able to boss other people around and not have to worry about them complaining." The youth gave his father a crooked smile. "So really, it won't be any different then my life is right now."

Daleer gave a small sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed that no matter how many times he tried to explain things to his son he still wasn't getting it. This meant he had to do something drastic to get his point through his son's thick skull. Coming to a sudden stop in front of a large building, much grander than the other homes in the village, Daleer pointed towards it. "Go and see to your mother in the kitchen please Miktes." He commanded without any room for rebuttal. "We are having the elders over for the evening meal and I am sure her and your sisters could use some help." His orders given the Verdomian chief began to leave, however before he did he stopped mid step and gave his son a harsh glare. "Do not leave the house is that understood?" He added. "If I have to place guards from the temple outside this door I will."

"Yes father" Miktes said back flatly. With a pout the red head watched as his father gave him a look of pity and then continued down the street, going off to apologize for things Miktes really didn't think their house should need to be apologized for. Still... the way his dad had just chewed him out caused Miktes' once good mood to sour considerably. Though he might not act like it he did sometimes feel bad when his father gave him the "I'm a little disappointed in you" speech.

Pushing the unpleasant thoughts of the lecture he had just gotten and of his confinement to the back of his mind however Miktes decided to do as he had been told and go see if his mother could use any help with the evening meal. Entering the large structure he had called home all his life the large warrior made his way into the light an airy kitchen at the back of the stone and mortar building. Stepping into the large room Miktes peered around the busy area, his eyes easily finding his mother in the back talking to a group of servants. Smiling he went to go over to her, but before he could a young teenaged girl with hair the same color as his blocked his path. "Hey outta my way Mufenka!"

"Is that anyway to greet your darling little sister, brother?" The person in front of Miktes asked with an air of amusement. Giggling at the sour look her older gave her the teenager wiped some flour off of her hands before she continued to harass him. "I'll be happy to move when you ask me nicely Miktes." He teased. "But... why are you home at this time of day anyway? Did you get sent home by father again for fighting?"

"You know that's the reason Mufenka." Another one of Miktes' sisters remarked from close by. "Our wild thug of a brother doesn't know any other way to solve his problems, right Miktes?" At the look of indignation on their older brother's face both young female members of the household broke out into a fit at giggles at his expense.

Luckily for the blushing warrior however, Velloy the matriarch of the Hestry clan had watched the entire conversation between her offspring and was generous enough to choose that time to rescue her first born son from his sister relentless teasing. "Mufenka, Jiinno stop teasing your brother please!" She chided gently. "I'm sure whatever reason he is here with us now is a good one."

There was a collective sound of disappointment from the two teenaged girls as the older woman shooed them away from their brother and back to their chores. But the middle-aged woman remained strong, only shaking her head at the antics of her younger children before turning to give her son a radiant smile and a kiss on his cheek. "Hello again my little one. Here-" The older woman quickly took a roll out of a nearby basket and stuffed it into Miktes' mouth, the stunned man having to quickly grab it before it fell from his lips. "-I'm sure you're hungry after missing the noon meal."

Miktes quickly swallowed the first bite of his impromptu meal then dislodged the rest from between his teeth. "Thanks Mama." He said around the mouthful of food. "But I'm not really hungry now. Had some fruit and wine while I was- oomph."

Velloy responded to her son's excuse by placing a finger on his lips and firmly shushing him. "Do not argue with me my little one." She said calmly. "A mother knows her child and I say you need more to eat, understand?" Miktes gave a sigh of defeat and dutifully began eating the rest of the roll. Seeing her son obey her wishes for once the Verdomian mother brushed back her light red hair and then went over to the nearest preparation table. "Sit down. We will talk while I cook." She said idly as she began to slice fruit. "You can enlighten me as to the reason why your home early today, maybe? Not that I don't appreciate having you home more often."

Miktes gave a frustrated growl and sat down on a pile of flour sacks closest to his mother, why was she always so pushy. "Training ended early today." He replied shortly. "None of the others felt like sparing against me cause I always win."

Velloy eyes her son out of the corner of her eye. She could tell instantly what had happened from his body language. She always could ever since he was a small child pulling at the back of her dress. "Really now? Because word about the village is that you attacked the other men down at the training grounds."

Miktes gave another hiss of embarrassment and stared down at his lap, a little ashamed that his mother had caught him lying to her. Unlike his father Miktes always cared about disappointing her. "They started it." He defended lamely. "None of them believed my story about hunting a Bahjack with my bare hands."

"You never did that." Miktes' sisters sing-songed from across the room.

The respectable and hardened Verdomian warrior responded to their smart mouthed remark as maturely as he knew how. By throwing the remaining bit of his roll at her head and then sticking his tongue out childishly at her for good measure. "Miktes!" Velloy reprimanded. "What have I told you about throwing food?"

"That if you do it you better hit your target on the first try and not waste food." Miktes suggested with a snicker. His joke earned him a playful slap on the arm from his mother and some snickers from the servants within earshot. "Ok, mama. Um... ... you said don't ever throw food."

The older woman gave her son a quick nod. "Good boy." She said. "Now back on the subject of your little scuffle. I hope you didn't hurt the other boys too badly when you fought. You tend to take things a little too far sometimes."

Miktes opened his mouth to assure her he had only cause mild wounds but then realized something. She knew an awfully lot about what he had done to be asking him about it now. "If you knew what I did today then why did you ask me about it anyway?" He wondered. "You trying to trick me or something?"

"Nothing like that little one." Velloy said chuckling. "I only wished to see what sort of excuse you would come up with. Your stories always amuse me."

"It's not funny" Her son insisted. Miktes sat there for a few moments stewing at his injured pride before he spoke again. "So I suppose yer gonna give me a lecture too, right? Like father did."

Velloy stopped what she was doing to tap on her chin a few times as if thinking deeply. "I would..." She began. "But I believe that your father must've given you one already. Am I correct." She slyly glanced over to her son who looked away. "Just as I thought. I hope he wasn't too hard on you. He tends to take things a little too far too. Especially when it comes to making sure your acting as you should"

"He did go too far, dragged me right out of the winemaker's basement while me and his son were...." Placing his own hand over his mouth Miktes realized too late that he had just said something incriminating. Face growing red he peeked up at his mother who was coyly smiling back down at him.

"And that explains why you were late to lunch." Velloy declared with great amusement. The older woman got a far off look in her pink eyes, remembering things from her past. "My, My you and your father certainly are alike, aren't you? I cannot tell you how many times he would sneak away from his lessons or training practice to take me off and fool around."

"MAMA!" Miktes moved his hands from his mouth to his pointed ears trying his best to stop any more information from penetrating his brain and leaving scars that would never heal. "I do not want to hear that!" the traumatized warrior experimentally took his hands off of his ears and peered up fearfully.

"What... is the idea of me and your father in the heated embrace of love displeasing to you?" Volley asked. The matriarchal Verdomian got her answer when her son, wearing a look of pure horror, jumped to his feet and ran out of the kitchen as fast as he could, the entire room breaking into laughter at his actions. "DON'T FORGET TO WASH UP BEFORE DINNER LITTLE ONE!" She called after him. Sometimes it was just too much fun having children.

***************

The mood around the Hestry clan as they ate their evening meal was a joyous one that night, the gentle firelight bathing the low table where everyone was seated in a dim orange light as they enjoyed the cavalcade of delicious and mouthwatering foods. All of them thankful for their prosperity and abundance of good times as they ate. Miktes especially was enjoying the meal, the red headed warrior enjoying the fact that his father had not spoken to him since he had returned to the house with the elders leaving him to eat leg after leg of meat and talked to his younger brothers as the room filled with the sounds of laughter and vibrant conversation between everyone in attendance.

It was only when Daleer stood up from his seat on the floor and coughed loudly did everyone grow quiet save for Miktes who had to be elbowed in the gut before he stopped speaking. "Friends... family I am happy to have you hear tonight on this so very special day." The Verdomian chief proclaimed loudly. "Because of our efforts during the last harvest we have had nothing but good luck fall upon us. We should all give thanks to the great strangers for their many gifts and for allowing us to prosper during these many, many years."

Everyone at the feast raised their drinking cups and gave thanks to the strangers, each of them reciting a small prayer that they had all learned when they were young. Miktes on the other hand just gave a snort at his family's reverence and snuck another piece of meat from his little brother's plate.

Noticing his son's reluctance to praise the stranger's Daleer cemented in his mind that what he had planned for the evening was the correct course of actions. "And while I am thanking the Strangers for what they have done for our people I must also thank them for what they have done for me personally." The Verdomian leader held out his hand for his wife to take, the proud woman taking it gleefully and kissing her handsome mates knuckles in adoration. "Velloy my love, you have done nothing but make me happy all these years. I am thankful that it was you who was chosen for me. You have given me two beautiful daughters and three strong healthy sons who I shall cherish forever." Daleer smiled as he watched the faces of his four younger children turn red as all the elders at the table all turned their eyes upon them. "And while I am speaking of my children I must of course bring up my first Born Miktes. Miktes will you stand up ... ... Miktes... Miktes... MIKTES WILL YOU STOP EATING FOR ONE MOMENT!"

Miktes stopped halfway through tearing a piece a meat away from the bone at the sound of his father raising his voice. "What!?" He asked looking around. Having grown bored as his father's speech went on and on, becoming sappier by the moment, the warrior had tuned everything out. Opting to continue his meal as Daleer rambled about things that he really didn't care about.

Giving a long suffering sigh Daleer decided to move on to his announcement and save face with the elders watching him. "As I was saying: My son Miktes, my first born has despite some of his more atrocious vices had made me proud. He is a strong and greatly skilled dominate who can be when he wishes to be, a caring and loving adult." There was a series of grumbles and snorts from the gathered elders at the table which were instantly silenced by Daleer giving a forceful growl. The Verdomian chief understood their dislike of his son but continued none the less knowing that what he was about to say would fix their problems with him... hopefully. "It is because of these qualities-" 'Or lack thereof.' He added in his mind. "-That I have decided that it is high time for Miktes to take part in the age old ritual where were united with our one true mates. May the strangers find someone who will reign in.... I-I-I mean who will make him as happy as my lovely mate has made me."

The stunned silence that followed after his sudden declaration didn't surprise Daleer in the slightest as he sat back down. Nor was the sound of his oldest son choking on whatever he had been rudely eating during it. The full impact of what he had just done coming down on his son's head like a hammer upon an anvil. Daleer knew all too well his son's reluctance to being mated. But he also knew that mating Miktes off would be the best decision for everyone. Miktes would have someone to hold him back from doing such wild and destructive things. A submissive that would use his or her wiles to tame the wild beast inside his first born. And whoever was chosen would be grateful for the boost in their standing.

After dislodging the bite of food he had been chewing on from his windpipe Miktes quickly got to his feet and stomped over to his father as his whole being trembled with anger. "Father you cannot do this to me!" He declared through gritted teeth. "I will not be bounded to some weak willed sub cause you want to get rid of me!!!"

Daleer merely waved off his son's refusal, calmly taking a sip of his drink before he started talking in a cold detached manner. "I am sorry son but it is my decision that you will take part in the ritual of destiny and as your father and your chief I will have no further arguments from you. Am I clear? So I suggest you get rid of that attitude and instead take joy in this night because by this time tomorrow you will have a mate to take care of."

Miktes opened his mouth to argue with his father but stopped before a word left his mouth. His "father" was right; his word became law as soon as it was spoken. All he could do about it now was remain quiet as his entire life was turned upside down and he was forced to endure the tortures of becoming a mated dominate. "Yes Chief Daleer." He said just as coldly as his father had spoken moments ago. "Mama..." Miktes bowed to his mother the older woman giving him an apologetic look. "...I ain't hungry no more. Would it be ok if I went to my room?"

Velloy was about to tell her son no, that he needed to finish his meal but she was stopped by the gentle touch of her mate, Daleer giving her a brief nod. "Of course my little one, have a pleasant rest of your night."

Miktes gave his mother a thankful look before turning away from the table and making his way out of the room and as far away from his father as he could. 'How can he do this to me?' Miktes fumed to himself. Wanting to get some fresh air instead of sleep the upset man changed direction, heading out of a side door and walking outside. 'To force me to... to become mated when I do not want to!' letting out a roar Miktes punched the closet thing he could get a hold of, a nearby tree. The poor plants trunk shuddering and creaking from the force of the impact. Ignoring the pain in his fist he then struck it again, and then again, and then again and again and again. Venting out his incredible rage towards his upcoming ceremony on the defenseless plant. After about twenty minutes of this the now panting and bloody knuckled Verdomian slumped down onto the ground in front of the splintering tree, trying his hardest not to scream.

{Laying there in the grass I tried my best to calm myself. I couldn't believe what was going to happen the next day. ME, the greatest warrior in the entire village bound forever to some wimpy submissive who'd try to change me. Maybe I could try and run away from home. Find somewhere far off where I don't have some pain in the ass father buzzing in my ears telling me to start acting responsible. And I could spend my days like I do now, having sex, fighting, and getting free food. I know that won't work though. Father would just gather all of the other warriors, track me down, and drag me back to the village kicking and screaming. You know looking up at the sky I bet that's the only way I'd get out of this shit. Go flying off into the stars where no one can get me. Of course that's a stupid idea... how by the strangers would someone ever be able to fly in the heavens.}