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The Seduction of Seleste

from the world of the mating season

Beauty and the Beast

Chapter 8

Seleste knelt over the young male and shook his shoulder. Tears blurred her vision. She didn't understand it. He had fallen thirty feet only to die from licking a stone pussy? The voice that had echoed around the cavern had knocked them both down. She fell over on her back and twisted her broken ankle afresh: the pain spread up her leg to her knee, and she was in such agony now that she'd had to crawl to him across the floor. He was so limp and still! It looked like he wasn't breathing. And she was scared out of her wits: where had that voice come from and was the owner of it watching her now? Crouching in the shadows? Waiting to kill her? Another tunnel opening was just beyond the fountain, and for all she knew, some monster lurked in that darkness.

The young male finally opened his eyes. Oh thank the sweet earth! She thought she was stuck there, alone in the dark with a broken leg. She wiped her eyes as he sat up, looking tired and confused and somehow unhappy to be back. Geez. It was as if she had disturbed his nap!

"I thought you were dead," Seleste sobbed. "There was a voice, and I think I broke my leg even more, and who knows what could have come from the tunnel over there --" Seleste hiccupped herself into silence. She suddenly felt so stupid and childish, crying over invisible monsters. No wonder he didn't want to wake up. But her leg was killing her - he couldn't fault her for crying for that! . . . could he? He was exasperated by her helplessness. He didn't seem to know it, but she was well aware. And when he rolled his eyes and got to his feet, she suddenly wanted desperately to earn his respect.

Come on, chin up, Seleste, she told herself. She looked at the young male. He hadn't spoken a word. His eyes were traveling over the gravestones, then they found the tunnel she'd spoken of.

"Are you alright? You were out cold for I don't know how long!" Seleste demanded.

"I know the way out," the male said at last.

Seleste scowled. Only because she'd just told him! Males!

"That tunnel over there will take us to the surface," he continued, but he looked at her as if he'd suddenly realized she was there. "D'you say something about your leg?"

Clutching her blanket tight to her body, Seleste nodded miserably. She watched as he strapped on the traveling pack again. She had pulled it off him in her frenzy to wake him. He took up his spear and paused again, as if he was thinking.

"How do you know it will take us to the surface?" Seleste sniffed.

He said something in return that she didn't hear. She was too busy lusting. Her eyes traced over his body and she looked away. God, she hated herself. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, she was in awe of him. And what would MeRorr say? Seleste smiled miserably at her knees. He would probably encourage it. He was always telling her that some young male would come along and she would be smitten and she would forget about him. He may have been right where the young male was concerned, but she would never forget MeRorr. Never. She closed her eyes as she thought of MeRorr and cried out in dismay when the young male suddenly swept her into his arms.

"Careful!" Seleste wailed when he snatched her up.

He was absentminded and seemed in a hurry to be clear of the graveyard. She couldn't blame him, but her leg was stinging badly from his clumsiness. She huddled against his hard chest as he started off up the new tunnel. It seemed that after his little nap, his energy was renewed. He went at a brisk pace, his handsome face creased in a determined frown. He was going so fast that she could feel the soft slap of his cock as he carried her. It hit her tail every now and then, and she blushed scarlet. Oh, MeRorr, forgive her!

"Maybe we'll get you to a healer when we get out," the male said, as if he'd only just remembered she was injured. "Honestly, I don't know my way to the sun village from Meketh, but we can try."

"Meketh?" Seleste blinked. She studied his face and he looked away as if he'd been caught. "What's Meketh? What are you not telling me? And will you slow down!" she cried. His penis hit her another time, and she couldn't take it anymore. She just knew her breasts were blushing too. God, to think that she was in so much pain and yet still able to want him. It was embarrassing.

But she couldn't help it. As she'd told him, she had never been this close to a young male. And one so . . . enticing. Everything about him was irresistible, his smell, his body, the way he moved, his soft grunts when lifted her. Sometimes he would be carrying her, and she would close her eyes and pretend to sleep, but really she was pressing her ear to his chest and listening to his heart beat. To be enfolded in those hard muscles, to feel the press of his fingers when they accidentally grazed her thigh . . .

Her clit would be pumping for hours at a time because of him. One time he picked her up, and her thighs were pressed so tight together as he did that her clit was squeezed and she had cried out. He had looked at her in confusion, and she only buried her face in his neck and wept. Because she hated herself for it. MeRorr was dead, and all she could think about was what this young male might feel like inside?

And so she wept and wept. She wept because she missed MeRorr. She wept because she missed her father. It seemed they always knew what to do and she was so utterly lost right now. But after it seemed she had wept forever, she finally dried her tears and realized she had spent the better part of her life listening to what males told her to do. For the first time ever, she was free! And what was more, MeRorr would want this for her, would encourage her to think for herself, to look after herself. MeRorr had always encouraged her. It wasn't until she suddenly found herself helpless and alone that she realized it.

It took Seleste a moment to realize the young male hadn't answered her. His face was creased miserably. It was the same look that came over him anytime she asked him questions. But did he really expect her to keep traveling with a total stranger? She had to know something about him! As she watched his expression, she realized that she still didn't even know his name.

"The stone gave me the knowledge," he said at last, but he still wouldn't look at her. "That's what was happening when I was knocked out."

Seleste's eyes grew round. "A spirit in the stone?"

The male looked at her quickly. "Yes. How did you know?"

"They tell such stories in the summer village," Seleste told him. "At the festivals. There are great festivals every summer to celebrate the time of year for which our tribe is named. The festivals are also to celebrate the mating season and the new adults that come of it . . ." She let her voice trail into silence, as if she was offering him the chance to ask questions. Eventually, he took the bait.

"Fine. What's the damned mating season?"

Seleste laughed and was glad when his lips gave way to a reluctant smile. He hadn't smiled once since he'd come to.

"It's when the village youth are released into the forests just north of the village. All wolves seventeen years of age are sent forth. The males claim whichever females they want for wives. Then when the pup is born, they marry. They say it's to make sure the pup is his, but really it's so the male will have time to build a hut for his new family."

"And you never had one? Or . . ." His voice trailed off uncomfortably, and she realized he was asking about her rape.

"No," Seleste said darkly. "I never had one. It's rare that a princess does. Sometimes a princess is given to a select group of the best warriors in the village. They fight to be the one who gets her with pup, and the princess has her own sort of mating season where they all take her at once . . ." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "But no. I was never forced to a mating season. My father kept me from it. And I was the youngest of twelve, so the village council saw no reason to object."

"Then what happened? I mean . . . when you ran by me in the wood you were covered with blood and cum and spit . . . just as if some group of bastards had taken you. After that I began to wonder what the hell was going on in the summer village."

"Yes," Seleste whispered, "it was a dark day." And she said no more. She couldn't bring herself to speak of it, the brutal rape, her lover's murder, the burning of her home . . . She fell silent and instead dropped her head against him. She was glad when he asked no more questions. He seemed to understand her need for privacy. And glancing up at him, she felt terrible for having pushed and prodded at wounds she had no business prying open. She wished she was as sweetly tactful as he.

Eventually, the tunnel widened until they came to a small cavernous room. It was like an egg in a snake. Along the curved walls were curved stone benches, as if some wolves had once made a pilgrimage to the fountain and had paused there on their way. The young male carefully set Seleste on one of the benches, then sat on the ground with his back against the wall and ate some bread from his traveling pack. He tossed a piece to Seleste and grinned when she barely caught it.

Seleste blushed at his teasing and ate her bread. He frowned into the distance as he ate and seemed lost in thought. She took the opportunity to lust again. God, he was handsome. Did he have to sit with his legs open like that? He was dark and strong and tall and everything she had ever dreamed of those long and lonely nights she was forced to listen to Meleste and her husband. And he was such a wild beast - too wild, it seemed, to even sit on a bench like a civilized wolf. No, it was always on the ground. He was always squatting and crouching and . . . scratching himself. She averted her eyes when he scratched his nuts and his cock jiggled from the gesture. God, he was shameless. No, oblivious. That was it. It was as if he had never been around other wolves before, and so when it came to having any sort of decency, he lacked it entirely. It was a bit . . . endearing. She laughed to herself as she tried to imagine a creature like him in her father's court. They'd chase him out with a bucket of water.

The young male glanced up. "Wutzzo funny?" he said around a mouthful of bread.

Seleste winced as gunks of bread flew. "You are," she said, watching him in amusement. "Why won't you sit on a bench? I promise I won't kick you again if you do."

He smiled and swallowed the bread. "I'm used to the ground. It's comfortable. And . . ." he eyed her little foot. "I won't take any chances."

Seleste held her bread in both paws and looked at it miserably. "I know I've been difficult. I truly am sorry. So many things . . ." She thought of MeRorr and her eyes watered. When she looked up, he was watching her anxiously. It was the same cute frown of worry he'd tried to hide the first night she met him. She shook her head and looked down at her bread again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay. I'll sit on the - bench? - if you want me to." So saying, he rose and came across the room. She began to tremble at his approach. She tried to stop trembling when he sat down beside her. God, she felt like such a fool.

"It's okay," he said again, and startled them both when he touched the back of his fingers to her cheek.

Blinking, she looked at him quickly. He dropped his paw away and quickly took another bite of bread. Seleste just sat blinking at him. It hit her for the first time that he was attracted to her too. He thought she was beautiful! She grinned, "Don't you know what a bench is?"

"A bench? No. I didn't even know I was supposed to sit on them. I thought they were more weird decorations." He shrugged and ate more bread.

Seleste closed her eyes and laughed, but when she looked at him, it was with clear admiration. "Who are you?" she wondered in amazement. "You never fail to make my mouth drop open."

The young male laughed to himself. "Careful what you say," he muttered and Seleste blushed bright.

"It's just . . ." she played with her bread and stared at it thoughtfully. "You're practically indestructible. You're super strong. You kill like no warrior I've ever seen. I keep thinking how lucky I am to have met you and how stupid I was to - to treat you the way I did."

He shrugged again, and it was clear to her he was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. "You were frightened. You'd just been . . ." He cleared his throat.

"Yeah . . ." Seleste whispered sadly.

"I'm from the jungle," he said, almost as if he was confessing it. "I've never had a tribe. I lived with Aiyana in the wild for years. And it was just the two of us. That was my whole life until . . . until she died."

"I'm sorry," Seleste whispered. Back when she'd heard him talking in his sleep, she had supposed his lover was dead. She wanted to take his paw but was too embarrassed to do it, so she fumbled with her bread instead.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat for the umpteenth time, "now you know why I'd never heard of a fork until three days ago."

Seleste's nose crinkled up and she laughed again. "Truly?"

The young male grinned. "I met some merchants in my travels - the friendly kind. They had some trinkets for trade. Thought I was nuts when I traded a priceless jewel for a fork. But those jewels? They're all over the jungle. Forks aren't."

Seleste laughed again. That was another thing about him: he made her feel so at ease. He made her feel safe. It seemed like such a long time since she'd felt safe. Those last few days she'd spent living under her sister's rule as chieftess had been days of constant terror. She and MeRorr had both known that with the old chief's death, it was only a matter of time before Meleste moved to take vengeance on her sister. And for the first time in their lives, MeRorr would not be able to protect his princess. It was the first time Seleste did not feel safe when with her lover. Her MeRorr.

"Well, what else would you like to know about village life? You aren't missing much," Seleste told him. "It seems to me you have all the freedoms that I didn't."

The male cocked an eyebrow. "A princess has no freedom?"

Seleste shook her head darkly. "Rather the illusion of it. The truth was I wasn't free at all. I was trapped within the confines of tradition. What Meleste did to me was completely within the law, though it made her no less cruel for having done it."

"She forced a mating season on you," said the young male, as if he was only just realizing. He scowled. "So all those males taking you --"

"Was just a mating season and completely within tradition. It was the way it was done that made it cruel!" Seleste cried. Her paw squeezed into a fist on her bread and it crumbled over her fingers. Her grey eyes fired as she said heatedly, "It was supposed to be a gathering of the best warriors in the village, and they would have been gentle, and they would have taken me without hurting me. But she ordered the protectors to hurt me for her pleasure! And to have it done in front of MeRorr, who she knew I lov --!" Seleste halted and bit her lip, as if she had said too much. She opened her fist and stared miserably at the large crumbs on her palm.

After watching her sympathetically, the young male placed his own bread in her paw and told her to eat it. "And when we make it to the surface," he said, "I'll see what I can do about your leg." He stood and gathered his things. Seleste watched him, feeling the heat in her face when he bent over and his dick swung.

"But," she said, "what is your name? You still haven't told me! Should I just call you Secret?" A smile puckered around her lips when he stood over her. He was so confused and uncomfortable, and she couldn't believe it when she realized he was embarrassed.

"What's the matter?" she said. She could tell he wanted to pick her up so they could continue, but he was hesitant. His pretty green eyes rolled to the ceiling as he finally answered, "You're wet."

Seleste looked down and wanted to die. She had become so aroused thinking about him that a stain had spread in the blanket under her thighs. Oh god. She wondered what she smelled like to him. It mustn't have been bad because she could see the slight stiffening in his cock. She wrapped the blanket around her soft naked body and wished dismally that she was at home, that Father and MeRorr were alive, and that none of it had happened. But it had happened. It was still happening now!

She was glad when the male said nothing more about her obvious arousal. He lifted her again and they continued up the dark tunnel. The scent of the graveyard fell further and further behind, and Seleste was glad. Though she had felt drawn to the statues, she had hated that place. It was sinister and eerie and the lusty statues made her paranoid, as if some ravenous male with a big cock was waiting in the shadows to rape her.

As they continued up the tunnel, Seleste looked at the young male and wondered why he was so embarrassed. If Aiyana had been his lover, then certainly he had seen a female wet before? He wasn't like her, horny and depraved and starving for something young and vigorous and wild. Or maybe he was. She remembered what he said only the day before, that Aiyana had not been his mother but had given him his name. Ah. So he, too, had had an older lover.

"My name is Keme," he said suddenly.

Seleste was so startled that she just blinked at him. It had been such a long time since she'd asked about his name. Probably hours. The day had long come and gone, and the little holes in the ceiling were now admitting pearly gray moonlight. The cool night breeze was soothing, and as they'd been traveling, Seleste had been singing an old lullaby in her mind in an attempt to distract herself from the pain. Her leg hurt so badly she didn't know why the bone wasn't poking from the flesh.

"Is there some custom among the tribes? Am I supposed to tell you my name?" he continued in much amusement.

"No, there's no custom," Seleste said good-naturedly. "I just wanted to know. Didn't you want to know mine?"

"The thought hadn't occurred to me. I was too busy, you know, clutching my nuts as you ran off with my junk - no pun intended."

Seleste laughed. "You'll never let that go!"

"Nope."

Several hours later, and the ground became very steep. The tunnel began to reach up, as if it was stretched along the inside of a hill. Keme set Seleste down, gave her the traveling pack and spear, and instructed her to climb on his back. She did as he asked, wrapping her thin arms tight about his neck and carefully hooking her ankles before his stomach. If she hooked them just right, she would cause only a little pain to her broken bone. But the pain was still there.

"Don't worry," he told her, as if he sensed her anguish, "it's almost over. Then I'll use the rest of those berries to make you a medicine that will stop the pain for a time. Might even make the bone heal faster."

Seleste's eyes grew round. "Where did you learn something like that?" Those types of medicines were the strict knowledge of a village shaman or sorcerer. That he knew how to make such medicines was shocking to say the least. Once again, he had not failed to surprise her.

"Uh, the medicine?" he replied in confusion. "It's a pygmy thing. I take it that sort of medical practice isn't commonplace in tribes?"

"You took it right."

Keme laughed. "I can see light ahead," he said after another pause. "I think this is it!"

With her cheek pressed close to Keme's, Seleste strained to see through the strands of mane that had fallen in her eyes. Keme was right: the tunnel steeped high toward a large hole. Bright daylight shone in, yellow and swirling with dust motes and leaves. She could smell the earth from here, the grass, the sea - all of it was welcome after the endless stretch of rock that comprised the sacred sun tunnels.

Keme braced his foot against the last few feet of steeping rock. He paused. "Ready?"

Seleste tightened her arms. "Yes!"

Keme began the climb. Up and up they went, and Seleste was in silent awe of the tight flexing of his muscles, his soft grunts, the smell of him, the heat of him. God, this was what a young male was? No wonder her father had kept them away! She blushed as she thought of his hard strong body between her thighs, all that power overpowering her as she yielded in sweet surrender! Is this what MeRorr had wanted for her? It was so typical of him to put her first. She was certain she would have been just as happy with MeRorr, for with his age came experience, and she had known such exquisite pleasure that first and only night he touched her.

"Almost there!" Keme said eagerly.

Seleste's heart leapt. She could see the tunnel opening right above them. It was yet another hole, crowded around its edges with rocks from the outside, as if some wolves had attempted to seal the entry only to have it pried open again years later. Keme reached out through the hole, and with a grunt, he hauled them into the sunlight.

They tumbled out into the open air . . . and right into a net.