Colin And Celene
COLIN AND CELENE
By Paul Lucas and Xcalibur
This was a commission done for xcalibur in early 2008, featuring his characters. The three main characters are copyright xcalibur.
Xcalibur wanted things long and detailed according to a specific outline, so this story is lengthier than most (15k+ words). Besides the usual x-rated sex hijinks, it also deals with an unusual affectation-accelerated pregnancy and birthing. Just a warning to readers who may be turned off by that.
This story is just an example STORY COMMISSIONS I do. I am a published novelist and have been writing professionally for over a dozen years. If you're interested in having a story written, just contact me via email at [email protected]
Also, check out my novel, CREATURA, A full-length anthropomorphic science fiction story!
http://www.amazon.com/Creatura-Paul-Lucas/dp/0759939489
Anyway, enjoy the story = )
The trees of the forest vaulted over Celene like ancient cathedral pillars, shafts of sunlight shifting through leafy canopies. A bird twittered, counterpoint to a chirruping frog.
Celene grunted, flipping over yet another mossy, muddy rock. She spied a few mottled mushrooms and threw them into the course sack over her shoulder. She wiped her hands on her rough-sewn dress, sighing. This was no way to make a living.
The fourth daughter (and seventh child) of a tailor, she had been the runt of her litter, one of the forgotten middle children of her clan. She had been pretty enough, or so people told her, but not a great beauty like her older sisters. She had been betrothed when she came of age, but when her intended began beating her she refused to marry him. Her father had been forced to return her dowry, a move that did not endear the miserly craftsman to his already estranged daughter.
Worse, her former betrothed had spread many vicious rumors around the village about her, and now none of the local townsfolk wanted much to do with her. She couldn't be married off and she couldn't be apprenticed to a trade. She had to scramble to earn what coin she could.
Lady Moira, the local sorceress, paid a copper crown for each sackful of herbs and plants she found useful. Moira, at least, didn't seem to care about her former fiancee's filthy lies. All the sorceress wanted were herbs. So Celene had been able to earn herself some money, and had even been able to stash away some from her father, who felt that she had to repay the entirety of the dowry she had cost her family.
Soon, maybe even in a few months, Celene would have enough to escape this hellish little town and start a new life somewhere else. She needed at least enough money to afford passage with the caravans that passed through in the spring and autumn.
A series of quick, plaintive yowls in the distance made her start, shattering her reverie. Normally, in the wilds of such a vast forest, one moved away from strange sounds as quickly as possible. But there was a sad, mournful quality to the yowls that the young woman had a hard time ignoring.
Carefully, step after hesitant step, she plucked her way through the massive trunks and twisting roots toward its source. Under a ray of golden sunlight, a huge gray wolf struggled with its hind leg caught in a metal trap.
She should have turned and ran then and there. Such large wolves were a perilous threat, and anyone who could catch one in a trap had to be more dangerous still.
The beast was pulling hard at his bloodied leg, yowling in pain as it found that it would only go so far. Celene peered more closely. The trap was a pair of huge, jagged metal jaws, apparently held closed by springs. Even more oddly, she saw many obscene-looking symbols etched into the metal of the trap, some of which involuntarily made her skin crawl.
She watched the wolf struggling quietly for many minutes, her mind racing. There was a bounty on wolf's tails. Such a large one could bring her five, maybe even ten coppers. Her father would never know of it and with her other savings, it would be just enough for passage on a caravan. She had no illusion that she could harm it with the small skinning knife she carried, but many of the plants she carried were poisonous. Maybe the wolf was hungry. She could catch a bird and lace it properly, then feed it to him . . .
The wolf suddenly yipped softly and spun to face her. She was well out of the trapped creature's reach, but he growled low and menacingly at her as a warning, his dark fur bristling. The trap clanked on its heavy chain behind him.
Their gazes locked, and she studied the beast's large, dark, almost-intelligent eyes. Strangely, the wolf's expression softened as he looked into her eyes, and she could see something very un-wolflike in his veneer. It was very hard to pin down, but in that moment the canine seemed less feral and almost, well, human. Vulnerable.
She shook her head. Of course he was vulnerable. He was trapped.
Just like she was, she realized. By her family, by her village, by her whole stupid and messed-up life.
She put down her sack, and took a tentative step forward. The wolf snarled again. She only put up her hands. "Easy there, boy. Easy. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you, okay? Easy..."
At the very edge of the wolf's reach, she stopped and held out her hand. She'd been told that was what was expected with new dogs, giving them something to sniff by way of introductions. She hoped it worked with wolves too. She really, really didn't want to get her hand bitten off.
Much to her surprise, the wolf sniffed her palm instead of snapping at it, his hot breath chuffing on her skin. Finally, the beast seemed to relax, his pinned ears popping up and his tail wagging. A huge pink tongue lolled out of his maw and slobbered wolf drool over her fingers as he panted happily.
Celene puffed out a gusty sigh of relief. She took a few tentative steps forward, and the wolf seemed content to shuffle aside for her.
As soon as her fingers touched the trap, a burning chill shivered through her body to her toes. The season had been a warm one, especially the last few days. Why did the metal feel so unnaturally cold?
She peered at the mysterious symbols etched on the trap. Now that she was able to study them, some seemed vaguely familiar. Similar to some etchings she had seen at Moira's house. Was the trap magical in some way?
"Okay," she told the wolf. "Let's see if I can get you out of here." She placed a hand on both the upper and lower jaws of the trap, frowning at the feel of the slippery metal, and pushed. She grunted and strained, but the metal didn't even budge.
"Damn," she swore, rubbing her hands where the metal had bit deep. She needed a better grip to get leverage. She looked around, then smirked at the animal. "Heh. Well, you are only a wolf, right?" The animal looked at her quizzically as she removed her blouse and her skirt, leaving her only in her skimpy white under-shift.
She bunched a garment in each hand and braced herself to push at the trap's jaws again. The wolf made an odd wurfing sound behind her as she bent low to her task, but she paid it no mind as long as it didn't attack her. She braced herself at the best angle she could, then attacked the metal jaws with all her strength.
Slowly, agonizingly, the teeth of the trap moved further apart. She cried out, straining, sweat beading her brow as she redoubled her efforts. She was only able to push it farther apart for a heartbeat, but that was just enough for the wolf to quickly slip its bloodied hind leg out.
Suddenly, Celene could hold it no more, and barely avoided losing a finger as the massive metal jaws snapped shut again. But she had other losses to worry about. "Oh no, my clothes!" she blurted, seeing her skirt and blouse both trapped tight by the jagged teeth.
She turned to the wolf, only to see that it was already gone. She caught sight of it briefly in the distance, as it turned to look back at her before it bounded into the thick of the forest and out of sight.
A few hours later Celene showed up on Moira's doorstep, sighing heavily in her ripped blouse and torn skirt.
The tall, dark haired sorceress smirked as she looked over the bedraggled girl. "And what happened to you, sweetness? Get attacked by a wild animal?"
Celene started for a moment, thinking the sorceress already knew, but then realized Moira was joking. "Um, something like that."
"Oh? What was his name?" Moira stepped aside and allowed the village girl to enter her home. "Was it that cute Miller's boy? I hear all kinds of things about that one."
Celene always liked visiting Moira's house, even if it was a bit remote from the rest of the village. It was by far the largest and most luxurious dwelling she had ever been in, with magnificent detailed woodwork inside and out, dark softly-cushioned furniture, and spilling over with many fascinating curiosities. Moira had once been a high sorceress to a number of nobles of the kingdom, but ten years earlier had decided to 'retire' to Celene's village for reasons the girl never understood. Who would ever want to trade all the excitement and intrigue of courts and high magic for the dull mundanity surrounding her town?
The younger woman handed Moira her sack, and said wearily, "Actually, it was a wolf."
The sorceress was rifling through the purple-spotted toadstools when Celene's words brought her to a halt. She pursed her ruby red lips. "I don't suppose it was an unusually large wolf. Dark gray fur, pure black eyes?"
Celene blinked, surprised. She was very curious now, but some instinct told her not to reveal too much for now, especially about the maybe-magical trap. "Th-that's right. It, um, it attacked me out of the blue. Protecting something. Maybe a kill. Snapped at my skirt and I tripped trying to run away, fell down an incline. And now look at me." She gestured at her ripped clothes as proof of her story.
Moira nodded, the mushrooms all but forgotten now. "Where did you see him, girl?"
"Um, down by the old switch-back path that runs along the creek for a way. Kind of near that large group of jutting rocks."
The sorceress balled her fists. "Damn, he must have evaded my trap, then."
"Your trap?" Celene said.
"That's right. That wolf is the whole reason I moved here. I've been trying to capture him for a decade now."
"What? Why?"
"He's no mere wolf. He's the king of the wilderness here. One of the gods of the forest."
Moira's words slowly percolated through Celene's mind. "A-a god? That wolf was a god?"
Moira chuckled, throwing back her long dark locks. "Well, by your limited peasant understanding, close enough. 'Godling' might be a better word. You're lucky all he wanted to do was chase you off. You could have just as easily have ended up being devoured or ravished by him. Creatures like him have quite an appetite for tender little morsels like you, one way or another." She chortled. "I could imagine your reputation in this backwater would plummet even more if you had to explain to your dour father how you were carrying a wolf god's whelp!"
Celene only blushed wildly. The sorceress, still in a jovial mood, shifted closer and tilted the younger woman's chin up in her long fingers. "Oh, what a cute little virginous creature you are, Celene. I could just gobble you up. Or perhaps make you slightly less virginous..."
Before Celene could react, the taller woman drew her to her lithe body, and planted a lascivious kiss on her earlobe, followed by an exhale of hot breath. Celene shivered and pulled abruptly away. "I, uh, I n-need to get home now..."
Moira planted her hands on her hips, smiling wickedly. "But, sweetness, I haven't paid you yet."
"I'llgetthatnexttime.Gottagobye," she mumbled quickly and stumbled out the door. The sorceress' mocking laughter echoed after her.
She got a smack across the cheek from her father for coming home penniless, and with torn clothes to boot. He never really hit her that hard, but he was never shy about physically expressing his supreme displeasure with her. She cried herself to sleep that night, her father yelling how he should whore her out to the next caravan that passed through, because at least that way he would get his money and some grandchildren. Her mother did her best to calm him down, but as always, did not actively come to her daughter's defense.
The next few days she went about her chores numbly, avoiding him, but also avoiding going back into the forest that surrounded their town and the nearby farms. She was in no hurry to deal with Moira again, or to meet any more forest godlings.
A rider arrived in town, announcing the imminent arrival of an unscheduled caravan. The town exploded into a flurry of activity. Merchants put out tables of wares, farmers from the surrounding country loaded up wagons with whatever was in season, innkeepers tidied up, and of course every unmarried woman in town, along with a few married ones, prettied themselves up hoping to attract the attention of an exotic stranger.
Celene wanted none of that. While everyone else was greeting the caravan, she was just outside the town limits, by the brook that fed most of the Hilra clan's farm.
The other women were stupid, throwing themselves at the caravan riders or their guards. Sure, some of them were very handsome, and more occasionally rich noblemen or merchants barons rode with them. But the only reason someone like that would bother with a small town girl is for a passing dalliance. A bit of amusement while the caravan rested and resupplied for a few days. Some girls didn't seem to mind, but in light of what had happened with her former betrothed, it would just be too painful to even pretend.
She plunked a rock into the sluggish water. Another rock whizzed into the water from behind her, skipping over the surface a dozen times before landing on the far shore.
"Ha! Lucky, that!" boomed a jovial male voice behind her. "I usually can never go all the way on the first try."
She turned to see a tall nobleman just a few paces behind her. He appeared young and strongly built, but with a shock of dark hair streaked with gray. He was dressed plainly, but the cloth of his garments looked to be of the finest workmanship and quality. His intricately-worked leather boots alone looked to be worth more than her family's entire cottage.
Celene just stared, unsure of what to do or say. As the silence stretched, the nobleman gave a soft chuckle and shrugged. "I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Lord Colin. I'm passing through on the caravan."
"H-hello," Celene stuttered. "I'm, uh, pleased. Celene."
He looked at her oddly. "You're Pleased Celene?"
"No, no," she corrected hastily. "I'm Celene. Just Celene."
"Hello, Celene. So why aren't you in town trying to fleece the caravan like the rest of the village?"
"Seems little point, sir. I couldn't help anyone or profit from it."
"Your family has no wares to sell?"
"Oh yes. They just don't want me to help, for fear I'll mess it up like I do everything else."
"Oh? And who is you family?"
"Atell the weaver is my father."
He rubbed his chin and sat down close to her, but stil several arms lengths away. "Ah yes, I think I saw him in the town. Quite an unhappy-looking fellow. The forced smile he wore to make sales looked like it might crack his face."
Celene chuckled at that image despite herself. "Please sir, you shouldn't say such things about my father."
"Why not, if I can make his very pretty daughter smile like that?"
She blushed deeply and looked away shyly. She heard more soft splashes, looking to see a stone skipping across the slow-moving water again.
She looked at him and he smiled, holding up a flat stone inquisitively. "Want to learn?"
For the next hour, the strange nobleman showed her all the intricacies of stone skipping, more than once moving close behind her to make sure she swung her arm properly for the throw.
She blushed more in that hour than probably in her whole life previously. The stories of slick caravan travelers seducing naive town girls kept swirling through her head, only to be pushed out again and again whenever he stood close to her. He was so tall and confident, and his smile and easy laugh so infectious.
Finally, he bid her farewell and sauntered off toward the town again. She waved after him, half-disappointed, half-relieved, that he hadn't tried to do more than just hold her hand briefly as he said good bye.
"What in the hells did you do, girl?" Her father's harsh words met her as she entered the door of her family's cottage. She meeped and hunkered her head into her shoulders, expecting a blow. What had she done this time?
Instead he grabbed her up by her shoulders and shook her gently. There was an actual smile on his face. "A Lord Colin came to our stall at the market square and bought all of my wares! Every last stitch, and did not even haggle!" He went to the nearby table and ran his hands through a small pile of coins. "Look! Twenty-three silver crowns! Twenty three!"
She gasped despite herself. More wealth than her family had ever seen. Easily more than three times the dowry her eldest daughter Rhiannon had gotten for marrying the tanner, and the whole town agreed that had been overly generous.
Her mother beamed even as she slapped away the hand of one of her littler brothers who was trying to touch the coins. "And this Lord Colin said he was inspired to buy so much because of spending time with you, Celene."
"But all we did was talk!"
Both her parents looked at each other, then just shrugged. But as her mother gathered the coins to put them in the cottage's hiding spot, her father nodded at her. "Better," was all he said.
Lord Colin came for her the next day. Her two younger sister were all giggles as she could only blush and mumble shyly as he gallantly asked her parents to escort her for a walk. Her parents practically shoved her out the door and into the hands of the tall nobleman.
"A beautiful day, isn't it?" he beamed as he tucked her arm in his and escorted her into town.
"I-I guess," she murmured.
He raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Is something the matter?"
"I am, um, very flattered by your attention, Lord Colin," she said a bit hesitantly. "But I wish you had come a bit later. I'd just finished my morning chores, and, well, look at me." She spread her free hand, gesturing to herself, pointing out her bedragled hair and her dusty clothes.
He flicked his fingers dismissively. "Don't worry about that. It doesn't matter to me. Besides, I think where I'm taking you will take care at least part of that problem."
He said no more on that until they reached the caravan camp. Caravans could stay in town anywhere from a few days to a week or more, depending on their schedule and how worn their animals were. This one seemed in no hurry to move on.
Colin introduced her to Petrullio, a large man with an even larger belly, a bald pate, and a spectacular handlebar mustache half as large as his round face. Petrullio was dressed stylishly despite his bulk. Colin excused himself to talk to others in the caravan while Petrullio tended to Celene.
"What's this about?" she asked.
Petrullio took out a long rope knotted at regular intervals and whistled for one of his assistants, who came running with a scroll and charcoal. He turned back to the girl. "Did Lord Colin not tell you? I am not only a textile merchant, but also a skilled tailor. He has hired me to make you a new dress of my finest fabrics."
She blinked, unbelieving. "Wh-what?"
He unceremoniously pushed her shoulders back and tilted her chin up. "Stand up straight, girl! You small-town waifs, always with the poor posture!" He began taking measurements with the knotted rope and calling the figures to his assistant, who hastily jotted them down. Celene had seen her father do the same many times with customers.
"But why is Lord Colin doing this?"
Petrullio shrugged his massive shoulders. "He told me that he owes you a new dress."
"But he doesn't owe me anything! I hardly know him."
He chuckled, running his measuring rope along her arm. "Lord Colin does what he pleases, lass. Quite a character, he is, but also very generous, so who am I to question his motives?"
"Have you known him long?"
"Ever since I've been travelling this route, almost ten turns of the seasons now. He likes to join up with our caravan as we approach these woods, then leaves a day or two after we exit it a week later. He tells great stories, plus he can carouse and sing and fight with the best of them! And he is always very generous with his coin and other wealth, so as you can imagine we are always very happy to see him."
Celene knitted her thin brows. She might have been a sheltered small town maiden, but she knew the local landholder nobility, at least by name. There was no Lord Colin in the area, at least none appointed by the far-off king.
Colin returned soon after. Petrullio told him that if things worked well, the dress would be ready by the end of the day, as the master tailor had no other pressing business. He showed off the fine silks he would make the dress out of, causing Celene to bite her lips.
"That's too fine for me," she sighed. "Especially the way I look now. I need to clean up before I even touch that dress."
Colin smiled broadly. "I know just the spot. Come with me." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the edge of the village.
"In the forest?" she frowned, suddenly pulling back. "With you? Alone?"
Colin stopped, and turned to her, still holding her hand. His smile was gentle and warm, his dark eyes meeting hers. Sweet hearth and home, she could not recall ever seeing such a beautiful set of eyes. But why did they suddenly seem vaguely familiar?
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I should not have presumed. But I swear upon my soul I will not harm you or take anything from you that you do not offer willingly." He smiled. "Besides, you were alone with me yesterday for quite some time. If my intent had been to use you or hurt you, I could have done so then. Is that not true?"
She looked away from him, blushing. "That's true, I suppose. But I'm still not sure."
He brought her fingers to his lip and kissed them. "Please, Celene. Trust me."
Her heart thumped loudly in her chest at the feel of his warm lips. What was it about him that was having such an effect on her? It was not as if she hadn't been propositioned by handsome men before. But none of them had been like Lord Colin.
He led her into the forest, but not too far from the village proper. He instructed her to follow him precisely, then walked off the path and led her into a number of intricate loops through the grass. She was about to ask what it was all about when she suddenly felt a cool pleasant breeze wash over her, heard the bubbling rush of water nearby.
She turned to see a small waterfall that hadn't been there before, cascading down a half dozen yards into a large pond surrounded on three sides by towering rocks and moss-encrusted trees. She could only work her mouth soundlessly. She had lived in the village her whole life, knew the woods around it as well as she knew her own bed. There was no such waterfall anywhere near the village!
She turned to Colin, who just grinned. "It is a Faerie place," he explained. "It can only be entered by humans by walking in a certain way at a certain spot. The walk demarks a mystical sigil that reveals the place."
Celene laughed nervously, completely unsure of what to think. "Are you a wizard, then?"
Colin shook his head. "I just know a few tricks. Come on. I know you're dying to see it close up."
That was certainly true. The area around the waterfall seemed lush and vibrantly colored, even more so than the springtime forest surrounding it. Pleasant cool air wafted from the pond the waterfall fed. Rainbows of flowers she had never seen blossomed everywhere, even on the water.
She caught her breath again as several splotches of color she had taken for flowers suddenly wafted into the air and flittered toward them. She saw flittering butterfly wings flanking tiny human-like bodies that glowed slightly even in the sunlight. Pixies, like in the hearth-fire stories she had listened to as a little girl!
The pixies swirled in a small cloud around Colin. Celene heard soft girlish giggles and barely-heard whispers of Pixie voices. Her companion just nodded and smiled, saying to them, "This is the Lady Celene. She wishes to clean up. I was hoping you could help her."
The Pixies flew over to the tailor's daughter and swirled around her. She felt small tugs and pushes, and soft, lilting, far-off whispers to come with them. She turned to Colin. "You ARE a wizard! You have Faerie servants!"
He shook his head. "They're just friends. They'll help you bathe."
She swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. "You aren't going to watch, are you?"
His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe. But I won't if you really don't want me too."
She bit her lip, her whole face pink. She really wasn't sure what she wanted at this point. "Just, um, just not too much, okay?"
He laughed. "Fair enough. Now go."
The Pixies led her to the water's edge, whispering giggly encouragement and helping her undo her clothes. As soon as one article fell away, a half-dozen of them would grab it and flutter it away to hang from a branch of a nearby oak.
Celene noticed a few of the Pixies were slim little males, and were showing their appreciation for her nude form as only males could. That didn't bother her too much, it was a little too surreal for her to take seriously. She shivered when she was at last fully nude, not so much from the cool air, but from the thrill of excitement/fear she felt when she saw Lord Colin studying her intently from a score of paces away.
The water felt warm and pleasant despite the coolness of the air, and the pixies brought her numerous petals that when crushed between her fingers foamed up much like fragrant soap. She had just scrubbed her hair and had dunked herself to rinse when she noticed that Colin was gone.
She heard the pixies around her, the females especially, giggling wildly and pointing. She followed their tiny fingers to the rocks that topped the waterfall, to see Lord Colin standing there, as nude as she was.
The young woman could not help but gasp and stare. Like just about every other girl in the village, she had snuck glances at men while they bathed or were unclothed when they thought no one else was around. A naked man was not an unknown sight to her. But she had never seen one so well chiseled, looking very sleek and powerful at the same time. He was very hairy for such a young man, but that only seemed to add to his air of feral virility.
Colin leaped from the rock and dived flawlessly into the water. She pulled her lips cynically to the side. All that wealth and charm, and he still felt he had to impress her like a pimply-faced teen-ager by showing off.
He did not surface immediately. She was about to swim over and look for him when she felt a sharp pinch on her rump. He broke the surface right next to her, gasping and chuckling.
She blushed, but became more annoyed than shy. In retaliation, she reached out and did the same to him. Its not as if she hadn't grown up with a dozen siblings she had to fight back against!
Still, his skin under her fingers felt so warm, and the muscles underneath steely hard, but still pleasantly pliable.
He jumped and laughed at the pinch, trying to get her again, and they began a mock-duel of pinching, dodging, splashing, and laughter. Somehow, between one turn and another, she ended up twirling into his arms, and their play suddenly ceased.
She had never been held like that by a man before, let alone by a naked one, with herself nude as well. Her heart thundered so hard in her chest she was sure the whole forest could hear it. Her small breasts pressed up against his broad hairy chest. Oh, Sacred Seasons, she thought, he was so warm. His arms around her felt so strong, but his touch was soft as a feather.
Celene could barely breathe as she looked up into his dark, dark eyes. She found herself melting under them. When he bent down to kiss her, her whole world shrunk down to the eager hunger she felt in his lips.
She felt something else, something more hot than warm, growing and pressing against her stomach. With a start she realized what part of him that had to be. When he finally pulled away from the kiss so they could both breathe, she found herself trembling, fear of the unknown and excitement at what may come battling within her.
She was pulled out of her trance by numerous soft whispers and giggles from all around them. They had attracted a large crowd of pixies, who all boldly floated around them like a rainbow-colored cloud.
Colin chuckled and pulled away, but not before leaning over to kiss at her forehead. "Well, perhaps we should do this some other time. Come, your new dress should be ready."
Celene blinked, her chest still heaving, a bit confused. "A-alright. But we've only been here barely an hour."
"Time passes differently in these Faerie realms than in the mundane world." Colin turned and climbed out of the water. Celene's nostril's flared as she caught sight of his wispy-haired backside, and of the member that was still at attention and throbbing into the air beyond.
Stupid pixies, she thought as she reluctantly climbed out after him.
The dress was as exquisite as Petrullio had promised; it fit perfectly, almost hugging her form above the waist, yet she had almost complete freedom of movement. It was crimson and yellow, and reminded her of the prettiest sunsets she had ever seen. It even made her modest bosom look like it could be something males would actually be interested in.
To her surprise, the caravan riders had an impromptu celebration that night, and Colin insisted that she stay. There was quite a bit of dancing and singing, and she meandered home exhausted but happy for the first time in her memory.
On the way to the village square the next morning, she heard Moira's familiar voice as she haggled with one of the caravan merchants. Before the tailor's daughter could slink away the sorceress turned and smiled broadly in her direction. "Celene! Aren't you looking radiant!"
The young woman felt herself blush brightly and mumbled a quick hello.
Moira chuckled. "You're quite the talk of the town, as usual, but in a different way this time. I hear you caught the eye of a handsome lord passing through."
Celne couldn't help herself; she felt herself smiling and nodding enthusiastically. "Y-yes. His name is Lord Colin, and he's seems wonderful!"
Moira's smile was wide but patronizing. "Hm, I bet. Just don't spread your legs too easily for him. A lot of men like to use girls like you, as temporary amusements on long journeys. In a week he'll probably be gone, and you'll have a belly full of his bastard."
"He wouldn't do that!"
"Sweetness, please. You've known him for what, a few days? How well do you know him, really?" Moira flicked back her long, luxurious hair, and Celene noted with no small bit of envy that the gesture instantly drew the attention of every male nearby.
Celene bit her lip and looked away. Colin seemed so sincere and kind, but what if there was something to what Moira said? The sorceress knew far more about men and affairs than she did. What if it was all an act for Colin's own amusement? That would certainly fit into the pattern of her life far more comfortably than some handsome rich stranger suddenly falling in love with.
"I was also going to ask," Moira continued casually, "This Lord Colin of yours, he wouldn't happen to be a sorcerer, would he?"
Celene started. "Why do you ask?"
"There's been quite a bit of magic around the village lately, quite a bit more than what typically comes with the laughable hedge wizards that usually pass through on these caravans. Plus something has the Fae all a-twitter in the forest. They volunteer nothing, of course, but I'll catch one in my traps sooner or later."
"I wouldn't know anything about that."
Moira looked her over from head to toe, eyebrow raised. "You've seen nothing suspicious at all?"
Celene shook her head, sure that the sorceress could see right through her. But the witch just shrugged and smiled. "Well, if you do, let me know. There might be some reward if I get valuable information. Your Lord Colin might not be around long, but I certainly will be." She turned to go. "Oh, and if you do anything with your new beau, make sure its really what you want. I can sense you'll be at your most fertile in your cycle for the next few days."
All Celene did was nod and turn to go. She gasped and jumped as she felt a hand slap her bottom. She turned just in time to see Moira walk away, laughing heartily.
Later in the day Colin found her moping some distance off in the woods. He sat side her on the boulder covered with soft moss. "Hey, I've been looking all over for you. I thought you'd be in the village today."
The young woman looked sullenly away, hugging her knees to her. She didn't say a word. Colin shifted uncomfortably behind her. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Are you going to leave me?" she asked, stifling a sniffle.
"What? Where did you get a notion like that?"
She just shook her head. "Well, are you? You're travelling with a caravan. They're going to move on in a few days, and you along with it. And I'll be left behind."
Infuriatingly, he just chuckled. "Well, I do find it flattering that you would care enough about that to get so upset."
She crossed her arms in an annoyed huff. "Moira was right. I don't know you. I don't know your real intentions. Maybe I should just go. I'll-I'll return your dress..." She stood and turned from him.
His hand settled on her arm. Not forceful, but steady, restraining just enough to keep her with him. "Celene, please, don't." He stood, holding her by the waist from behind her. "You're right, I haven't been forthcoming. But there's a good reason for that."
She hugged herself tightly. "Again, those are just words, Colin. What do you really want?"
"You," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
"I'm not going to be your trollop or plaything . . ."
He loosed a long, rumbling sigh. "I don't want you to be. I want to tell you the truth, but it might frighten you."
She turned toward him. "So does not knowing. Whatever it is, tell me."
Lord Colin moved back to the rock, sat, and rolled up his left leggings and removed his boot. Celene's brows arched high in surprise to see over a dozen sharp, jagged cuts on his skin, looking to be only a few days old. Instantly, she was on her knees, examining the wounds. "What happened? It looks like you've been bit by something with huge teeth."
"Close enough. Normally, the wounds would have completely healed within hours, but the magic on the metal of the trap was meticulously enchanted. I'm afraid I'm going to live with these scars for quite some time to come."
She blinked up at him, not understanding at first, but realization slowly dawning on her. She met his eyes, and for the first time realized how much they resembled those of the gigantic wolf in the forest. "T-trap?"
"You know it, of course. You struggled to free me from it. It was a very insidious device, ensorcelled with a number of vicious spells. Only a pure soul or a godling could even touch the metal without combusting into ash."
She drew back, horrified. "You're the wolf-god from the forest! Moira warned me about you!" She didn't question his human-seeming form. Of course a godling could change his shape, it was one of their most basic magics. And no one else but the wolf or Moira could have known about the trap.
Colin shrugged, his form blurring for a moment, as if she were viewing it out of water-soaked glass. His clothes stayed the same, but underneath limbs rippled and flesh roiled as bone and muscle repositions themselves. His face elongated and curved, forming a wolf-like muzzle. Thick dark gray fur sprouted from everywhere on his body.
He was still human in general form, standing upright, his hands spread placatingly. But now he sported a great many characteristics of a wolf as well, including a large shaggy tail poking out his backside.
"This is much better," he said with relief, trying his best to keep his voice steady and calming. "This is my true form, a blend of human and animal, as is my inner soul."
She sprawled on the ground at his feet, trembling in fear, feeling like a trapped doe. He held out his hand for hers. "Don't be afraid. I didn't hurt you as a wolf, and I didn't hurt you as a man. I certainly won't hurt you now."
The young woman blinked, realizing suddenly how foolish she must look. Her eyes locked with those of the strange magical man-wolf before her, and realized with a start that they were exactly the same as Colin's. It was Colin. Hesitantly, she slipped her hand into his and he helped her to her feet, pulling her to him.
She pressed up against his chest, still feeling very much like the human chest she had felt in the pool, just as muscular and broad and warm. "Colin, I'm sorry. I'm just kind of overwhelmed. So much has happened, and now this..." She shook her head. "What do you want from me?"
He kissed her. "Be mine."
Sacred Seasons, the power she felt in his arms about her, making her feel small, soft, and safe. When a woman was being held, what more did she really want?
But she had to think about this! Was she truly thinking of offering her maidenhood to a half-wolf god? His warmth enveloping her and his pleasant musky scent filling her nostrils was making any rational thought difficult.
Her heart did her thinking for her. Before she was even aware of it, she leaned into him, untensing her shoulders, nodding vigorously. An unmistakable surrender. She was his.
A kiss on her lips, deep and insistent. His hands began roaming, to her shoulders, her hips, her thighs. She held onto his sides, the fabric of his shirt bunching in her clenched fingers. Celene was content to let him lead. He obviously knew much more of what to do than she did.
She gasped as he broke the kiss and passionately nibbled down the side of her smooth-skinned neck. The teeth in his short muzzle felt sharp and pointed, very much like a predator's, but his bites were light and playful, never truly coming near to hurting her.
Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as his lips found her collarbone and his fingers began pulling at her shift's drawstring. He'd already seen her naked, had felt her naked, but this was a new intimacy of touching and contact made her unsure all over again.
The garment fluttered to the forest floor, and the cool air kissed her naked breasts. She shivered, at first from the chill, and then from how unbelievably hot Colin's long tongue felt on the delicate flesh of her small breasts. His lips found her nipple, already taut and pebble-hard, and sucked it into his lips. Celene could only moan and push her bosom at him.
His mouth moved from one mound to the other. Her hands glided up, instinctively cupping his lupine head and gripping at his still very human head hair.
His hands were not idle long. They seemed to know the exact location and workings of every knot and string on her garments, and within a heartbeat had her nearly naked before him. Soon there was nothing between him and her trembling flesh aside from her white thigh-length leggings.
He lifted her up with easy strength and set her down on the moss-covered boulder. He looked down at her, and she could feel a warmth spreading through her limbs. It felt instinctively right to be under Colin like she was, to have his powerful form over his.
He started at her breasts again, and began lick-kissing his way down her body, nudging her leggings down and off. His furry hands wrapped around her knees and slowly pulled her thighs apart.
She could feel herself blushing brightly, feeling very vulnerable before this half-human creature, naked, exposing her most private parts in a way no one had ever seen before.
Colin smiled at her from between her parted thighs, then moved down to nudge her soft pubic mound with his cold black nose. Celene gasped and giggled a little, then threw her head back and moaned like a lost spirit as his long, agile tongue slicked hotly across the length of her sex.
His wet appendage lapped eagerly at her salty treasure, and she could only thrash on the broad the moss covering, biting at the heel of her thumb to keep from crying out at the intense sensations. Gods and nether creatures, who could have thought that a tongue could feel so hot?
The tongue pressed into her flowering folds, and stopped. She felt a gentle tugging within, knowing he was gently probing at her hymen. He withdrew, shifting up, and lathed the small taut nub of her clitoris wetly, swirling around it again and again.
Celene arched her back and she cried out into the forest, her whole face scrunching into a strained mask at the intensity of the pleasure she was feeling. She'd often pleasure herself similarly while bathing, and feeling his incredibly molten tongue do almost the same motion drove her quickly wild. Flickers of electric pleasure licked at every square inch of her slight frame.
The most intense orgasm of her life quickly overwhelmed her. His tongue vibrated tightly on her clitoris as it exploded in ecstasy she had never known before. Her entire body went rigid as she rode out the sensations, her inner folds spasming powerfully.
She shivered through the aftershocks, gasping greedily for air, as she heard him chuckle happily and kiss her wisp of reddish pubic hair. He licked his chops of the salty taste of her juices. "Enjoy that?"
She nodded vigorously.
Colin eagerly licked her to two more body-wracking orgasms. Afterward, in an improvised nest of her discarded clothing, their bodies lay entwined on the forest floor. He had removed his shirt, but only to cover her so she would not get cold. She was exhausted by her cascade of climaxes and spent a long time just catching her breath.
"But what of you?" she asked at last, looking up at him from the crook of his furry shoulder.
Colin shook his head. "I am content just to have felt your bliss on my tongue."
She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down his sleek, muscular form. She giggled at the very obvious tent straining the crotch of his leggings. "Oh?" she teased. "I think certain parts of you might disagree."
Celene could not believe her own boldness as her hands slid down and gripped his member through the fabric. He loosed a long groan. "Celene, you don't have to..."
She bent up on her knees and licked at his canine-like nose, as he had done to her earlier. "Hush. I may be a maiden, but its no secret among women that men have strong urges that it is our duty to fulfill, when they do right by us." She began stroking him up and down lightly. Her movements were a bit clumsy, but he sucked in a breath at the sensations anyway. "So let me do something for you this day, oh mighty lord-god of the forest."
He opened his maw, about to say more, but her fingers on him through the thin cloth made him rethink them. Instead, he simply nodded. Celene giggled like a schoolgirl, and shifted down his body to inspect her new toy.
She pushed up the gently pulsing shaft so it was up against his belly and clearly outlined in his leggings. She was no expert, of course, but it looked fairly human in shape and size. It seemed enormous to her, but she had no experience as to whether it actually was or not. Still, how could a woman ever fit one of those inside her?
Her curiosity burned hot, and she slid his leggings down his furry legs, unleashing the beast. She blushed brightly at seeing the organ straining at the sky, glaring redly. Her fingers were drawn to it, wrapping around its girth gingerly. A bubbly giggle escaped her lips as she felt how warm it was.
Colin was up on his elbows, watching her with a large smile on his black lips. His half-wolf form no longer held any anxiety for her. After how wonderfully he had just treated her for the last hour, how could it? In fact, he still looked essentially the same, only now with fur, a snout, and a tail.
She pumped him up and down, diverting her fingers for just a moment to tickle at his heavy fur-covered sack. Listening to his pleased low rumble gave her a moment to think. She'd heard tales from the other girls about what boys liked, about what she should probably do next. Was she really ready for that?
She hesitated only a moment, reasoning that she'd come this far already, before she bent forward and swiped her tongue over his shaft head. The breathless half-howl he loosed was pure satisfaction to her, even though she tried not to frown at the musky, semi-salty taste. That might take some getting used to, even though it seemed a small price to pay to hear Colin cry out so nicely.
She worked over the entire shaft with her tongue, licking it the way she used playfully lap at icicles as a young girl. The main difference of course, was that her tongue seemed to be running over pure heat now instead of cold ice. She dipped lower, exploring his heavy sack with her tongue, lightly sucking each furry orb into her lips. She wondered at the seed they must hold. Would it really be like her female friends described when he finally climaxed, long squirts of white creamy fluid?
The thought made her eager to find out, an instinctive longing deep in her belly. The young woman kissed her way back up to the tip, licked her lips to moisten them, and pushed the whole of her mouth down on shaft of her inhuman lover.
Gods, did he enjoy that! His whole lupine-like body writhed, and she could feel the muscles of his hips coil and release as he rumble-growled in pleasure again. A more intense salty taste spread wetly on her tongue. Male lubricant; precum.
Now that taste she did not mind at all. Heady and creamy, if salty, like a soup broth. She swallowed, wanting more, and worked more of his cock into her eager lips.
Her head bobbed up and down, as she'd heard other girls describe the act. Colin's strong hand settled in her hair, encouraging her to go faster, to take more into her maw, if possible. She complied as best she could, the large fleshy rail sliding in and out of her mouth on the slick cradle of her tongue.
Flicking her eyes up, their gazes met. He seemed so powerful at that moment, sitting over her with his brow dotted with perspiration, one hand gripping at her hair, his broad chest heaving. Was she really causing all that with her simple sucking motions?
She vibrated her tongue on the groove just below the spongy-rigid head. He tipped his head back and groaned in ecstasy.
Apparently so. She felt empowered at that moment, having such a dramatic effect on him with such a small part of her body. She reveled in the raw sexual excitement of pleasing him. Her own hand slid back between her legs, tickling at her lips and clitoris, as she stroked her mouth up and down on his organ, slurping loudly, her saliva dampening his pubic fur dark.
His breathing changed, speeding up. All his muscles coiled, as if he were about to leap, but all he did was pump his shaft in and out of her slick mouth repeatedly. Even without those hushed tales from her female friends, she could tell he was about to climax. She was about to pull off-in truth she was not really sure what she should do at this point-when he suddenly gasped, "Please, Celene, swallow it. Its important. I need you to swallow it."
She nodded and went on sucking him for all she was worth. Less than a heartbeat later she heard a loud chuffing, then a loosed guttural growl as he buried himself as deep in her as he could go, right to the back of her throat. His cock spasmed powerfully, jetting hot, sticky loads of Colin's seed. She really couldn't taste anything; he was too far in, and those first few spurts shot directly into her throat and bubbled down into her stomach.
The eruption eased, too soon. She found herself rumbling in deep satisfaction, knowing that she had just made a man (a godling at that!) orgasm in her mouth. His seed felt pleasantly warm in her belly.
The member started going soft, and he pulled her off of him and pulled her up her body, where he kissed her deeply, sharing his taste between them. "I want you to be my Mate," he said breathlessly.
He said 'mate' with the same connotation most would have said 'wife.' She nodded enthusiastically.
He lick-kissed her nose playfully. "Tomorrow, then, when my magic tells me you'll be at your most fertile, we'll continue." They entwined themselves in each others' arms and fell into a deep slumber.
The sun was just rising the next morning when Celene woke with a start.
He body felt. . . off. There was no pain, not exactly, but something in the equilibrium of her body had definitively changed. She felt lightheaded and dizzy. Her stomach grumbled loud protests as if she was about to be nauseous, even though her stomach was empty.
She rolled away from Colin's slumbering form, afraid of maybe vomiting on her new lover. Some impression that would make! Still, she had ingested something unusual in the past day, and a godling's seed was as unusual a thing as she could imagine. Maybe she was just having a bad reaction to it, like her aunt had to turnips...
Her body suddenly convulsed and shook. Her muscles were wrested from her control, and her throat seized so she couldn't even cry out.
Every nerve in her body was pushed right to the edge of pain, but surprisingly, didn't cross over into it. The sensation was similar to having a thousand itchy spots on her skin that she couldn't scratch. Supremely distracting, but not agonizing.
Her legs and arms felt like they were stretching, but to impossible lengths. She could barely flick her eyes down to see that something was happening. The flesh under the skin of her arm was shifting and writhing, like snakes coiling themselves along her bones. The soft hairs on her arm grew darker, then suddenly started to grow, thickening into a dark gray carpet covering her limb.
Panicky, she wanted to scream, to get Colin to help her with whatever was happening, but he just continued to slumber contentedly.
Suddenly something pushed itself out right in front of her eyes, and she could hear the soft pop and grinding of bones in her face shifting. Thankfully, there was still no real pain, just nerve endings screaming at sensations they couldn't identify. She realized this new protuberance was her nose, shifting and changing as well, blackening completely then telescoping out from her face.
She felt something similar sprout from just above her backside. Large and bushy against her now furry rump.
It hit her all at once. Her nose had become a muzzle! And that must be a tail under her! She was turning into a wolf-like creature similar to Colin! But when would it stop?
Suddenly, just as abruptly as it started, the transformation stopped. Her body ached and tingled in odd places. Celene took large, greedy gulps of air, not daring to move for a moment, dreading the worst. Eventually, though, her muscles unknotted and her joints unlocked, allowing her to sit up and look over what had happened to her.
She swore to every goddess she could name.
She had fur! Grayish-black fur, just like Colin's. She couldn't resist touching the muzzle sticking out in front of her eyes, making its soft skin wrinkle a the contact. Her fingers glided up and felt large triangular ears protruding from her hair. She yelped softly as small claws on her fingers accidentally poked at the very sensitive skin of her new ears.
Rats of dread scrambled up and down her spine. She wanted to be with Colin, but was this how he expected her to be? Would she ever be human again?
He said that tomorrow, today now, when she was most fertile, he was going to take her as his Mate. A wolf could not impregnate a human, but as a wolf herself, that presumably wouldn't be a problem. Oh, gods, she was more than willing to give him babies, but the thought of birthing cubs made her mind balk.
Fears and uncertainties warred within her as she tried not to panic. She looked down at the still sleeping godling, not knowing what to do. The memories of yesterday, of the last few days with him, were like a shining beacon of warmth in the vast chasm of her otherwise dreary life. But this sudden change in her body was too overwhelming, to alien, for her to deal with.
She didn't know what to do, and despite herself, she still didn't trust Colin enough to be fully truthful with him. But she did know someone who was very knowledgeable about this kind of thing.
She quietly slipped away form him, then ran with all the speed she could muster with her wobbly new legs to Moira's cottage.
The transformed woman banged fiercely on the sorceress' door. "Moira! Moira, please! You have to help me!"
The door swung open, and for the first time that Celene could ever recall, the sorceress' face registered true astonishment. But then she narrowed her eyes at the half-human wolfess standing in her doorway. "Celene?"
The transformed woman could only nod vigorously. The witch looked her over, head to toe and back again. Slowly, a sly grin creeping on her face, and she ushered the wolf-woman into her cottage. "Sit down, sweety. I can guess what happened, but I want you to tell me everything. Here, have my Elderbark tea. I'll just be a moment, though." She shifted a steaming beverage on her small table to Celene.
Celene shakingly took the cup in her now-larger, clawed hands, and only barely managed to get it to her lips without spilling it. Some still dribbled down her chin, making her wince. The muzzle would take some getting used to. It was a minor miracle she could still talk decently.
She glanced at Moira, and started as she saw what looked like shadows moving through the air of their own accord. The sorceress was whispering to them in a language Celene couldn't understand. Then, between one breath and another, they were gone.
Moira turned toward her guest, all sunshine and smiles. "Now, sweetness..."
"What were those things?"
"Servants of mine. I just sent them on an errand, is all." She took the chair opposite Celene at the table. "Now, let me guess: you took the wolf-god as a lover, didn't you?"
"I love him!" she blurted out. "At least I thought I did, and that he felt the same way. But how could he do this to me?"
She nodded, her eyes glancing up at the large metal-jawed trap hanging from the wall. "You were the one who freed him from that trap, weren't you? Besides me, the spell only allowed a godling or someone with a pure soul to even touch that metal and live. And he must have 'rewarded' you in the way males always want to..."
She nodded, snuffling, feeling tears welling up.
"Typical, of males and godlings both. We're just receptacles for their seed, as far as they're concerned. And yet, I still sense your virginity about you, though it is a little blurrier than before."
"I didn't-we didn't...um..."
She laughed wickedly. "Did you swallow?"
Celene could feel herself turning crimson even through her fur-covered cheeks.
The sorceress stood, rubbing her dainty chin. "Okay, we have to make sure you aren't going to panic anymore. Here, let me give you a 'push.'" She placed her hand on Celene's shaggy brow. The young woman felt a sharp warmth deep in her gullet which quickly spread throughout her body. She exhaled a breath, and the world blurred, for just a moment. Her body felt different. Again.
She looked down, and she was human again. "Sacred seasons! How did you..." She realized she was still nude as well, and covered herself as best she could with her hands.
But still her body felt strangely off from what she was used to. Did her chest feel bigger? And her legs were longer. She realized that she couldn't see a blemish anywhere on her skin. She glanced at Moira's small mirror on the wall and gasped. The face was still hers, but it was smoother, its skin perfect, its hair still curly but no longer tangled or bedraggled. It was how she had always secretly hoped she would end up looking like when she grew into adulthood, before the reality of peasant life betrayed her.
"Never mind that now," Moira said. "Right now I need you to hold still." The sorceress spoke an alien word that sounded like it should never have fit in a human throat. Suddenly, the wood of the chair rippled and flowed like water, growing thick tendrils that quickly wrapped around Celene with surprising strength. Roots from its legs shot into the floorboards, merging with them, anchoring her fast.
"What are you doing?" she asked with a tremor of fear in her voice, struggling feebly against her bonds.
Moira turned back to Celene, hands haughtily on her wide hips. "You have always been so naïve, sweetness. Didn't you ever wonder why I wanted to catch your godling lover?"
The young woman sucked her lip and looked away. She had been so preoccupied with her own problems that it had never really crossed her mind ever since Colin had come to village. Stupid! "I thought you were my friend!"
Moira tched. "Friendships are only momentary conveniences. You'll learn that. You were never in any way worth my ultimate goal. My whole life I've sought a way to live forever. Would you believe I'm almost ninety, sweetness? Don't look or act like it, do I? That's the power of magic. But even with conventional sorcery, I can only extend my life by a century or two. That's why I need your moonstruck wolf god."
"I don't understand."
"The godling's life essence is tied with that of this whole forest around us. If I can tap into that, I too, can do the same with my own life essence. I would live as long as this wilderness does, all thousands of square miles of it, and need not die until the last sliver of wood in its last tree is burned or rotted away. A lifespan that could be measured in millennia! But for that, I need some of the wolf's vital fluids, either his blood or his seed. I've been trying for ten years to capture him now for it. And now I have you, his chosen mate. The perfect bait."
Moira sat on the table in front of Celene, holding her chin up haughtily. "He marked you as his, its why you can transform. And just as I can sense you virginity, I too can sense your extreme fecundity today. He will mate you proper and make you the mother of his brood. He won't be able to hold back, either, no matter what you may want or do or say. Despite his power he is controlled by instincts that can as overwhelming to him as to any animal. No matter the danger or obstacle, he will come here for you, and right into my trap."
Celene's eyes popped wide. "What? No! Don't do this!"
"He's already on his way. My servants have made sure of that. In fact, he should be here any..."
The door burst in with a resounding crash. Colin stood in the doorway in his half-wolf form, but larger and fiercer with anger-stiffened fur. His eyes glowed red with unnatural power. "Let her go!" he snarled.
"Colin!" Celene cried.
Moira did not even hesitate. She was on her feet, moving to place the chair-bound Celene between her and Colin. "Welcome, godling," she said. "Or are you calling yourself Lord Colin nowadays? I see my servants did not delay you as long as I'd hoped."
"Let Celene go," he repeated, obviously in no mood for small talk. He stalked further into the cottage, his finger claws fully extended.
Moira suddenly shouted arcane words and gesticulated madly into the air. The door slammed shut, and thick tendrils of smoky darkness shot out from all corners of the room, snagging Colin's limbs like ghastly whips. He quickly found himself held fast despite his supernatural strength. They pulled his arms and legs apart as far as they would go, so he was held in mid-air, spread-eagle. He snapped and clawed at the dark tentacles, but they were too tough even for him.
Moira practically purred, walking slinkily toward him, scratching at his furry chest as he struggled against his magical bonds. She pulled away her fingers just as he snapped at them. The sorceress laughed. "I've been after your for a decade, godlng. Ten years I've had to weave my spells into this space, which was always meant as your cage. This cottage is my place of power, and you walked right into it!"
His muscles strained, sweat dotting his brow. "This won't hold me long, witch."
"It will hold you for at least several hours, and that will be enough for me to use you as I need to. I was going to use your innocent little woman, and I still might, but now that I have the source right in my hands."
Colin snarled, throwing himself doubly against his bonds. Moira slapped him savagely across the jaw. "Stop struggling!" she commanded. She glanced back at Celene, as the wood of the chair began squeezing her much more tightly. The young woman cried out. "You might have given her some of your essence, but she can still be easily hurt. Is that what you want?"
Colin's eyes met Celene's and she saw his rage give way to concern. He slumped in his bonds.
"Better," the tall sorceress said. She walked over to her stone mantel above her fireplace and pulled out a long, intricately-carved dagger from its metal mounting. She tapped its wicked-looking tip on Colin's broad furry chest. "Now, godling, your life's blood will give me immortality."
"Don't!" Celene cried.
"Oh don't worry, sweetness," Moira purred. "I'm going to drain him slowly. I'll get more blood that way. You and he will have plenty of time to say your good-byes."
"But...but you don't have to kill him! Won't just some of his blood do?"
The sorceress pulled out a large silver bowl and positioned it under the wolf godling. She sadly shook her head. "If I leave Lord Colin alive I have little doubt he will do everything he can to exact revenge against me." She looked up at her captive. "Isn't that right, godling?"
His crimson eyes burned pure murder at her. It was all the answer needed.
Celene thought furiously. "But maybe you don't need his blood at all!" She could not believe she was about to suggest what she was about to, but it was still better than having Colin hurt. "You said you could use his seed as well."
That made the sorceress hesitate. She stood straight, contemplating the godling held fast with a finger on her cheek. For the first time, she assessed her prisoner as a male, instead of just a source of magical blood. A predatory smile slowly spread over her lips. "Now that," she admitted, "is an interesting idea. Your seed in me will make the spell even more potent. I still have to eventually kill you, but no sense in you not having a bit of fun first, if it serves a good purpose."
Colin's eyes grew wide, then he snarled ferally. "I'll never--!"
With a flick of her fingers, a tendril of darkness wrapped itself around his muzzle, shutting off his words. "Hush. And that will prevent you biting, though under normal circumstances I might not mind that."
"Moira, don't!" Celene began, but she quickly found herself magically gagged as well. The sorceress took a rag of silk, walked up to Celene, and surprisingly, plunged it between the young woman's legs and rubbed it furiously over her sex. Celene cried out at the rough treatment, but it lasted only a moment.
Moira then took the rag and hung it on Colin's muzzle, using the smoky black tendril there to anchor it in place. Colin looked very distressed as he breathed in. Moira chuckled as she fondled his hanging manhood. He grunted trying to resist, but Celene could see his eyes begin to glaze over, his organ slowly filling in her palm. "Oh, now that's true love," their captor said. "Your scent alone is making him hard. But then, he is part wolf. So much of their world is all about scent and smells."
It became an odd battle of wills, Moira' stroking fingers against Colin's determination not to become aroused. He eventually began giving way, panting, his body trembling in ecstasy.
When he was full and throbbing in her hand, Moira laughed in triumph. One hand slid under her dress and slicked lasciviously between her legs. A few minutes later, near-breathless with ecstasy herself, the sorceress shucked her garment entirely, casting it carelessly aside. Her eye gleaming with lust and satisfaction, she climbed onto Colin's furry, muscular body, clutching tightly to his thick fur for hand holds. She wrapped her legs around him, positioned her hips just so, and slowly, steadily began working his tool into her dripping sex.
Celene watched helplessly, wishing desperately she could thing of something to do. Moira planned to kill Colin as soon as she finished milking him. But bound in the chair as she was, what could she do?
Moira cried out loudly, and Colin grunted and growled, as she finally sank fully on him, burying his member in her to the hilt. Celene felt her cheeks burn in pure envy, remembering her intimacy with Colin the day before. That should be herself taking him!
The dark-haired sorceress clutched her partner hard, smiling wickedly into his eyes as she raised her hips up, then plunged them down again, making them both gasp and shudder in pleasure. Colin strained against his bonds, torn between trying to get away and primal instincts to grab the female on him and rut her properly. Moira laughed, pumping her hips again, over and over, settling into a passionate steadily-increasing rhythm as she rode the godling.
Celene squirmed, feeling sensations beyond just her envy. She felt a definitive tingle in her loins watching the two mate so close to her. The more she watched, the more she desperately wished she was Moira, riding that magnificent male organ.
Colin's cheeks reddened, his chest heaved, his muffled growling growing louder. Celene recognized the signs from the day before; his climax was almost upon him. Moira, too, was breathless and heavily flushed, no longer looking haughty or superior. At the moment, she was just a female pounding a cock, a slave to instincts in every way that the godling under her was.
The wolf godling peaked first, howling into his magical gag, his eyes close tight. His hips powered through a few last half-thrusts before they went rigid. Celene could see his heavy orbs contracting up, his body convulsing as he emptied his seed deep in the sorceress' lithe body.
Feeling Colin jet into her triggered Moira's orgasm as well. Her entire body shivered violently as she practically screamed into the cabin, her folds contracting hard to milk the thick spurting cock deep in her.
They both gasped through the aftershocks. Then, after Colin seemed to have completely drained himself in her, the sorceress climbed off of him, practically purring as she ran her slender fingers over her moist and battered pubic mound. "Nice," she commented. "Now for the spell that-"
Her eyes suddenly bulged, as she slid to her knees, her hand over her lower stomach. She grunted, not in pleasure this time, but in pain. "Nnggh! Gods, what is that?"
Colin watched, his eyes no longer glazed over, but lucid and narrowed at his tormentor. He knew what was happening, but of course could say nothing.
Moira suddenly screamed and thrashed about. Her eyes scrunched close tightly in agony. She grabbed hold of the table leg, trying to lift herself up, only to fail miserably and crash to the floorboards. Her teeth ground so hard together that Celene could hear enamel cracking, and tears of pain sprung from her eyes. "What's happening?" she cried in dismay.
Then Celene saw it; the sorceress' stomach began swelling precipitously, like a wineskin being over-filled with water. The tall woman's eyes bulged, her screaming degenerating into animalistic grunts and gurgling. Oddly, her body began glowing at every point of her exposed skin, not with light, but with a nimbus of grayish darkness similar to the smoky tendrils that held Colin.
Celene herself screamed in horror as Moira's skin began undulating and pulsating, as if hundreds of insects were crawling just below it. The skin yellowed, then browned in many spots, taking on a leathery quality.
A flash of dark light filled the room, coupled with Moira's most piercing shriek yet. When it faded, Colin suddenly found himself free, the dark tendrils having complete disappeared. Celene herself felt the wood of her chair-prison slacken slightly. But she hardly noticed, as she watched with terrified fascination as something small, dark and twisted crawled away from Moira's open legs.
The creature looked like it could be a half-wolf like Colin, but only if seen through the lens of one's worst nightmare. Its fur was dark and splotched, its muscles twisted and malformed, with an extra, mangled arm sprouting from its lumpy back. Its face seemed split in two, one eye halfway down its sunken cheek, its teeth all different sizes and angles. Thankfully, it lived only a few heartbeats, as it seemed in horrific pain just from its brief existence.
Moira looked substantially different as well after her unnatural birth. She had mentioned before that in actuality that she was over ninety years old. Now she looked like it, with heavily-wrinkled skin, with very thin, snow-white hair, and a very emaciated build. She lay there unconscious.
Colin soon freed Celene from the unnaturally-warped chair. "What happened?" she asked.
He sighed "The seed of my kind is extremely potent. We are powered by all the life-force of our forests, which can be vast. When we mate, all that is concentrated in our seed that we pass. When she made me ejaculate in her, she injected herself with powerful life-magic her merely human body was not prepared to handle. She cycled through an insemination and pregnancy in minutes as the magic ravaged her and sucked all the spells that were already at work in her from her own enchantments. But tragically, that magic was dark, and feeding on it the newborn could only become a monstrous abomination."
"Gods," Celene swore. "I know what she intended for us, but...'
"Yes," Colin agreed, holding his chosen mate close, contemplating what to do with the now-aged sorceress.
The old woman who was once Moira the sorceress remembered very little of what happened, or even much of the last few decades of her life. As an elder, she had quite a bit of dementia, even having trouble at times recalling her own name. Celene had people come out from the village to take care of her. She was now very much like any other ninety-year old, and needed attention.
That night, Celene sat with Colin by the Faerie waterfall. They were alone in the warm, cloudless night, no sign of the pixies or any other denizen of the forest besides them.
"So you're saying," she said, "that you made me swallow your seed first, so that it could transform me and I could then handle being impregnated by you, in a way my being merely human couldn't."
Colin nodded his shaggy, half-wolf head. He had transformed into human so that they could hand over Moira to the village elders, and revealed to Celene that she could change back and forth between forms just as he could, with practice. Very few questioned what had happened with Moira. Most just took at face value when Celene had told them that her magic and schemes must have backfired-a true enough story, in its essence. Several elderly goodwives promised to take care of her, especially when spurred by a handful of generous 'donations' from Colin.
Colin rubbed his furry chin. "I wish things had not turned out like this. I never wanted our coupling to be tainted by such dark scheming."
Celene shrugged. "I don't think its tainted at all. Neither of us could really have helped what Moira did. And besides," she giggled mischievously. "We actually haven't coupled yet."
Colin's nostrils flared in surprise. He chuckled, suddenly grabbing her up roughly in his strong, furry arms. "Well, we can correct that soon enough. But just be aware that there is no turning back after we do. You will be my mate in every sense of the word. By the time the moon rises tonight your belly will be full of my young."
Her heart thumped in her chest at hearing his words, feeling very anxious to do just that, to be everything to him that he wanted her to be. But still, she hesitated a moment, looking away. "What happened with Moira, when you impregnatd her. Will something like that happen to me?"
He kissed her very gently on her forehead. "Somewhat, except for you it will be a far more pleasant experience, I would hope. I transformed you so that you could much more easily accommodate the rigors of a godling's seed. Moira had no such protection. The experience will be much more pleasant for you, I guarantee."
She closed her eyes, and willed herself to transform. It came much easier this time, fur sprouting along her skin, her limbs rippling and twisting and reknitting themselves, shaking her long red hair as ears and a short muzzle sprang from her features. "Its already been a very pleasant experience with you," she said, giggling. 'Though this muzzle thing will take some getting used to, right in front of my vision like that. I'm surprised you aren't cross-eyed from looking at it all the time..."
"Celene..." Colin said, his voice husky, a bit impatient.
She knew what he was anxious for, but could not help but to tease him one last time. She smiled impishly at him, then leaned up to lick-kiss him playfully under his strong canine chin. "I'm yours," she said. "I become your mate gladly. I can't think of any better destiny for myself, for the both of us. Take me."
His only reply was a quick grin, followed by a rough, deep kiss with his tongue probing deep within her. Celene found that kissing with muzzles was different from kissing with purely human lips. It seemed a bit clumsier, but no less exciting as she felt and tasted his rising excitement in his passionate working of her lips.
In fact, she could feel the tension in every muscle in his body, the deep hunger he had for her in every breath and movement. She'd heard from other women how powerful a male's needs could be, but until this moment she never really understood how overwhelming it might be for them, sometimes. It was both intimidating and extremely exhilarating to know that she was the sole focus of the godling's intense attention, that the whole world around them could suddenly disappear and still the only thing he would care about is the feel of her soft body on his.
His hand moved up between them, hooking into the borrowed dress of Moira's that she wore. But instead of untying the drawstring as she expected, he just growled and impatiently shredded the fabric with his finger claws. She yelped, startled, but that only seemed in inflame him more. His claws flashed downward, rending the whole front of her dress, leaving much of her body exposed to him.
A wave of heat flashed through her. He was so primal! She couldn't deny him anything. She found herself tearing away the last remnants of her clothing herself, tossing the rags about them carelessly, anxious to completely expose herself to him, to show him what she was offering.
He growled and pulled her close, raking his claws lightly down her curved furry back, an alpha making sure his mate acquiesced properly. Celene didn't know where the submissive whimper in her throat came from, only that it felt and sounded completely appropriate, and pleased him greatly.
His large hands grabbed roughly at her breasts, pulling at the softly furred orbs, just as his lips dropped down to suckle hard at each one in turn. Her eyes fluttered in raw pleasure, her wolf-like ears flattening against her head.
Her own hands weren't idle. They felt all along his muscular chest and stomach, scritching gently down to feel between his legs. Gods! He was already steel-hard and throbbing, the blunt tip dribbling lubricant freely.
Her touch dissolved his last modicum of restraint. He suddenly grabbed her shoulder and spun her around against a nearby tree, bending her over until her rump was angled high. Her new tail curled up and over her back instinctively, completely exposing herself to him. Not believing how naughty she was, she spread her legs slightly and whimpered loudly again, signaling her complete submission and eagerness for her male to mount her.
His fingers slicked over her exposed vulva, causing Celene to gasp and shiver. They slipped over her pink lips easily; she was very wet already and waiting for him. He did not disappoint, as she felt him grip her hips and line himself up, the tip of his penis feeling like liquid heat when it nudged her dripping and puffy sex.
He gave her a moment to brace herself, warning her with a soft grunt and his fingers tensing on her skin, before he thrust forward. Her fingers clenched hard at the tree's ashen bark as the blunt rod stretched her lips apart and broke the thin membrane of her hymen. Celene felt a brief flash of pain, squirming a bit, but within a few heartbeats it quickly faded.
Colin began pumping shallowly back and forth, slowly working his way into her deeper and deeper, chuffing loudly at the incredible feeling of her sex surrounding his. Celene closed her eyes, holding herself in place as best she could, wanting to please him despite the discomfort and the alien feeling of having such a huge pillar of flesh invading her.
But the tearing of her virginity had not hurt nearly as much as she thought it would. Either those girls who told her all those stories of losing theirs were grossly exaggerating, or perhaps something in her transformation had eased it, somehow. Not that she was complaining; the discomfort was quickly giving way to a growing warmth all around Colin's working cock, seeping more and more into tingly pleasure when he finally bottomed out in her and held himself there, just for a few heartbeats.
She knew he was holding back for her, fighting instincts that must be a burning inferno in him. Enough of that. He felt so warm in her, and just the pulsing of his organ on her pussy lips was enough of a vibration to send tingly tendrils of pleasure everywhere in her body. She turned her head back and up at him, and their eyes locked. "Take me," she told him in no uncertain terms.
He needed no further encouragement. He drew back until he was almost out of her, then slammed back in. He repeated the motion over and over and over, snarling and snapping at the air in supreme pleasure, as his thick member stretched her tight folds wide again and again and again.
Oh gods, Celene had no idea sex felt like this! So hot and intense and amazing! Why had she stayed a virgin for so long?
His hands slid up her body, cupping her heavy swaying breasts, his fingers trapping her pebble-hard nipples between them. Bending over her now, his relentless pounding never abating, he nipped sharply at her ears and shoulder. She groaned and panted and yowled, surprised to hear now much like a wolf herself she now sounded like.
Very little mattered to Celene at that moment, save for the heat of the magnificent cock pulsing in and out of her, the heavy breathing of the male by her ear, the strength and power of her mate as she gladly gave all her being to him.
She could feel the sudden escalation of tension in every muscle in his body, his breathing becoming ragged, his thrusts going wild and holding nothing back. His hips slapped loudly against her quivering backside, even with their fur to muffle the sound.
Suddenly he yowled and snapped at the air, biting into her neck, but stopping just short of breaking any skin. He hilted himself in her and she could feel his cock expand against her tight pussy walls a split second before they burst forth wave after wave of jetting godling seed deep into her.
Oh gods, he was mating her! Celene realized. That thought along with the intense warmth of his spreading seed triggered her own orgasm. He entire form trembled and went rigid, sharp tickle-sparks of pleasure shooting through her out to her ear tips and the ends of her toes. The climax went on and on, white spots edging her vision from the intensity of it.
She came down from it eventually, rejoining the real world from her universe of sexual bliss. All she could do was brace herself up against the tree trunk and pant rapidly, trying to gulp some air back into her lungs. She heard Colin do much the same, panting with his broad chest working rapidly against her shoulder blades, recovering from his orgasmic aftershocks.
He kissed the back of her neck, rumbling contentedly. "Mine," he told her casually, half-playfully smacking her rump.
She giggled, wiggling her furry rump for him under his hand. "Yours," she affirmed.
They mated four more times before dawn, each coupling more delicious than the last. Once Colin's more immediate needs were slaked, they wee able to try out every conceivable position, and even played around with different combinations of their forms; both as humans, then one as human and the other half-wolf, and finally both as half-wolves again.
Celene slept very soundly into the next day, and when she woke, she found her body was once again slightly off balance from another change. Her lower abdomen was swollen slightly, and her breasts were even bigger than they were post-transformation, and unusually sensitive. She had become the equivalent of three months' pregnant in half a day!
Colin was close by, with a bright fire crackling in the afternoon sun and a goodly amount of woodland food-berries, roots, edible leaves spread out on small bark rafts nearby. Two skinned rabbits roasted on a spit over the fire. He immediately went to her side, nuzzling her with great affection. Celene grumped. "I'm swelling up, just like Moira."
Colin shook his shaggy head. "It will be much faster than a natural human pregnancy, but it will not be like what happened to Moira at all. Moira's dark magic twisted the fetus monstrously, made it eat at her body and spiritual energies with runaway gluttony. If she had not been a sorceress she would have died from the strain of it. But you have magic now that is constantly renewed by the forest around us, and I sense our young in you are healthy and well-formed so far. You have nothing to fear."
"Our young," Celene said, rolling the concept around on her tongue. She felt a surge of emotion toward her mate and hugged him fiercely. When they pulled apart he led her to the fire.
"Eat," he instructed. "The magic will sustain much of the younglings' growth, but you still are going to need a great deal of nourishment in the next few days."
She was surprised at how ravenous she felt. She greedily devoured most of the food he had gathered, leaving only a few bites for Colin, and was still hungry for more.
Over the next few days her belly steadily grew, and her breasts grew heavier with milk. She and Colin both lapped up some as it leaked out, an odd heady taste but still pleasant. It was fascinating in a way to watch her body change, but with very little of the discomforts and pains that she'd seen her mother and many of the other women in the village go through. She had no morning sickness, no backaches, no major digestion problems. The magic of her new form must have been taking care of much of that. She did feel the need to relieve herself much more often; even magic couldn't do much about the increased pressure on her bladder.
By the end of the second day she could feel the younglings kicking occasionally within her. Anxious to be born, Colin said. Considering that they had gone from conception to the third trimester in just two days, she had to agree. She teased him relentlessly on having the world's mightiest sperm, and he could only agree with her with loud, hearty laughs.
The third day she knew she was going to give birth, and was more than a little trepidacious about that. Magic or no, may things could go wrong. Colin stayed with her the whole time, and the pixies she had seen the just a week ago returned, by the hundreds this time, to help in any way they could. Their presence greatly comforted her.
The birthing was not easy, but thankfully uncomplicated. At the end of it three half-wolf, half-human cubs, very tiny versions of the forms Colin and she wore, lay nestled in her arms. She looked on them with exhausted eyes, amazed that her body could create such beautiful little creatures. They took turns suckling and snoozing.
Colin sat next to her in their nest, comforting her when he could. He had ever seen him look so proud, or so at peace, as when he nestled his new born son or daughters. As if his whole existence as a godling had at last been fulfilled.
They'd kept Moira's cabin as their own after that, and occasionally even used it in the years after when they visited Celene's family. But they had another, better home much deeper in the woods, a large earthen den, where they raised their many cubs.
Moira never bothered anyone again, and spent most of her time being cared for by the townspeople. She liked spending her dwindling days in the town square sitting next to the well, watching the village's children play.
Celene grew to cherish the brief times she was pregnant, to feel the new life growing within her. She also loved the time she spent with her cubs. They also grew more swiftly than human children, but not that much, so she often had many wonderful years she could cherish with each and every one of them.
Colin hunted for her and cared for her, making her pregnant with as many cubs as they could reasonably handle at one time. Just as his seed was much more powerful than any male's, so too now was her own womb far more fertile than any woman's. She realized that she and Colin would give birth to perhaps a whole new race of wolflings in the years to come, part human, part wolf, a new form of life in the eyes of creation. And her children would one day spread to every forest in all the worlds.