Stolen
by Kinto Mythostian


It was cold; unusually cold for this time of year. Selie stirred half-awake in her nightgown and tried to pull the covers tighter around herself, but she couldn't seem to find them. Where were her covers? For that matter, where was her bed? The springbok's eyes snapped open.

The pallid light of the full moon illuminated the soft grass she lay on. An unrecognized forest of gaunt trees rose not far away, curving around to either side. Selie propped herself up on her elbows and tried to stand but quickly collapsed back to the ground; though her arms were free, her ankles were securely bound with soft silken rope.

"Well, look who's awake. I was beginning to worry I'd given you too big a dose," a swarthy female voice purred. The voice sounded so familiar, yet Selie couldn't quite place it.

Selie rolled over and found herself staring at a pair of sturdy black cloven hooves at the end of long white and black legs. Numerous gold and silver rings ornamented the ankles. The springbok looked up towards a pair of ample gray hips where a pair of white hands rested confidently; several more precious rings encircled the wrists and fingers. A wispy black tail hung motionless, the ends of the longest hairs almost reaching the ground. Selie kept looking further up; her eyes quickly passed over the indecently exposed female crotch and past a pair of modest teats to a white belly bordered with black, completely naked. Finally, Selie's gaze reached the face at the end of a long curving gray neck, patterned in white fur that glowed in the moonlight and black fur that sucked in the silver light like an abyss. Long, polished, arrow-straight horns jutted up and back from the brow, under which black eyes glowed from within deep set sockets.

The oryx smiled down at the prone springbok. "Hello, Selie."

Selie wrinkled her brow. "Rahavah?" she said quietly as comprehension dawned. 

The oryx nodded. "Very good."

Selie didn't understand. Rahavah the oryx was an old beggar who frequently came by her father's estate, selling charcoal or flowers or whatever she could get her hands on. Selie sometimes gave her food. But tonight Rahavah looked... different. Much younger, stronger... more virile. And she was smiling, an odd smile that did nothing to put Selie at ease. "Rahavah, what's going on?"

"In due time, Selie. We must get you ready first."

"Ready? Ready for wha-ah-ahhh!" Selie cried out as Rahavah reached down and roughly grabbed one of the springbok's delicate curved horns and used it to rudely drag her across the turf. Stars of pain burst in front of Selie's eyes as the oryx pulled. She tried to kick in protest and clawed at Rahavah's wrist with her hands but the oryx took no notice.

Selie shed a tear of relief when Rahavah finally let go and the throbbing in her skull began to subside, but her respite was short-lived. The oryx seized her wrists and forced Selie to stand, tottering on her bound ankles. 

Rahavah pulled Selie back until the springbok was standing with her back to a thick wooden post standing in the center of the circular clearing. The oryx bound Selie's wrists behind the post, leaving the young springbok free to move up and down the post but unable to move away. Rahavah stepped back. "Selie. Look at me," she commanded.

Selie had just gotten her hooves into a position where she could stand semi-comfortably. She found the oryx's words impossible to ignore. Rahavah stood nearly a half meter taller than her; Selie raised her chin to meet her gaze eye-to-eye.

"You have always been kind to me, Selie, and for that you have my thanks. You have a pure soul, and you deserve to know the truth."

"The truth?" Selie quavered.

"Do you know what tonight is?"

The springbok shook her head.

"Tonight is the summer solstice, and the moon is full. A night like this is one of the most important nights of the century for sorcerers such as myself."

"Sorcerer?" Selie whispered, unbelieving.

"Well, sorceress, if you want to use the modern vernacular, but I'm old-fashioned." Rahavah barked a sharp humorless laugh. She stared deep into Selie's eyes. "700 years old-fashioned."

For a split second Selie saw the oryx clearly, a vision of ages long past dancing within her ancient black eyes, centuries blurring together, people dancing with all the transience and significance of leaves on a bonfire, and in that instant, Selie knew. "You're going to kill me," she whispered. 

Rahavah gave a satisfied nod. "Very good. I knew I chose well when I picked you father's house." She stepped closer to the captive springbok and wiped a tear from Selie's cheek. "Taking your life should give me another sixty years, at least. Your parents raised you well."

"They...?"

"Shhh." Rahavah pressed a finger to Selie's lips. "No, they didn't give you to me. Your parents love you; they would never allow this. They know nothing. I stole you. If we each play our roles properly, they never even need know you're gone," she added cryptically. "Now, enough talk. If you're to be dead by sunrise, we have to get started."

"But... please..."

"Selie, my lamb," the oryx gently cradled the springbok's chin in her hand, "You have so much to learn. Your innocence does you credit, but I didn't get to be 700 years old by being merciful. I'd tell you I'm sorry I have to do this," Rahavah lightly kissed Selie on the lips, "but even that would be a lie." Rahavah grabbed the collar of Selie's nightgown with both hands and savagely tore it open.

Selie cried out in protest as her velvet fur was rudely exposed to the moonlight. The oryx kept tugging and ripping until Selie's nightgown lay in tatters on the grass, her lithe body naked in the cold night air. Rahavah brushed one finger along Selie's side, tracing the sharp border between dark brown and white fur, smiling as the springbok shivered at her touch. "Such a beautiful body," she whispered half to herself, "a shame your society has always forbidden you from displaying it." 

Rahavah's finger came to rest on Selie's clitoris and she pressed, sending a completely alien feeling through the springbok's body. Selie gasped, her knees knocked together, and she sank slightly.

"Did you like that? You've never even known what you've been missing, have you?" Rahavah whispered wryly. "Stand up straight or I'll break your knees."

Selie straightened up, still too bewildered to consider disobeying. Her tail curled in between her legs.

Rahavah knelt down to pick something up out of the grass at her hooves and stood up straight as well, looking down at her captive. "Open your mouth."

Selie looked at Rahavah's right hand; the oryx was holding a small purple glass bottle full of translucent liquid that shimmered in the moonlight, casting ethereal refractions on the ground. Selie clearly understood why Rahavah wanted her to open her mouth, and she just as clearly understood that she didn't want to. Holding her lips firmly closed, the springbok shook her head.

Rahavah grinned as she slid a silver ring off one of her fingers "Finally, some resistance. It's always more satisfying this way." She held the glinting circle up to her lips and whispered. Barely visible sigils etched into the metal glowed. "One more chance. Open your mouth, Selie?"

Selie started to shake her head again when Rahavah's hand shot out to grab the springbok's muzzle. By applying pressure she was able to force Selie's jaws apart a tiny fraction and shove the ring into her mouth. The oryx pulled her hands away as Selie gagged and coughed in a futile attempt to spit the ring out.

"Open," Rahavah commanded again, and this time the word carried weird harmonics that vibrated right down to Selie's bones. The springbok felt the ring pressing against her palate, expanding. She tried to fight back, but it soon became clear that that would only give her a broken jaw. She gagged as her lips parted, the growing ring forcing her mouth open wider and wider. Rahavah watched satisfied as Selie's tongue wagged, pressing against the inside of the ring, trying to dislodge it. "Very good," she purred as the ring stopped growing, Selie's mouth now opened as wide as it could go. "That wasn't so bad, was it, Selie?"

Selie whimpered and a few tears leaked from her eyes; it was painfully uncomfortable.

Rahavah removed the cork from the purple bottle and carefully poured half of it onto Selie's tongue. It tasted like the smell of burning wood; Selie did not swallow. As the springbok watched, the oryx poured the remaining half into her own mouth. She pressed her muzzle to Selie's and forced her tongue into the springbok's open mouth, wrapping tongue in tongue.

Despite her fear and discomfort, Selie found herself reciprocating, mingling saliva and potion from both their mouths. It felt good, in a very strange way. Just when Selie began to relax and give in freely, Rahavah pulled away. 

Selie watched as the oryx deliberately swallowed the potion in her mouth. "Now you swallow yours, Selie."

Selie hesitated.

Rahavah grabbed Selie's chin and forcefully tilted her head back until her nose was pointed towards the stars, her head and horns pressed painfully against the post at which she was bound. "Swallow, Selie," the oryx repeated. Selie felt the potion running down her tongue and into the back of her throat; it was impossible to stop it. Awkwardly she choked down her dose, feeling a prickling heat spreading through her body as it progressed down her esophagus to her stomach. Rahavah released her hold on the springbok's chin and easily removed the ring from her mouth.

Selie coughed and sputtered, trying to lick the taste from her tongue. "What was...?"

"It's not poison, Selie." Rahavah pinched her own arm sharply and Selie yelped in shock as she felt a pain in her arm. "Our bodies are linked now, Selie.  Me to you, and you to me. I would brag about how difficult that potion is to make, but we don't have the time and you wouldn't understand anyway."

"Why...?"

"Shh, Selie. So many questions, but all will become clear." Rahavah stepped past the bound springbok, deliberately brushing against her and taking a moment to reach down and tweak her nipple; the oryx shivered as a small spark of pleasure throbbed through her own teat in response. Rahavah retrieved a long coil of rope from the grass behind where Selie stood and circled back around to once more face her captive. 

Selie watched in horror as Rahavah fashioned one end of the rope into a noose. The springbok shied away as the oryx stepped closer, holding the macabre loop open. "Stay back!" she shouted, her cry dying unheeded in the cold sky. Selie turned her head quickly side-to-side, waving her horns about and refusing to give Rahavah a stationary target.

Rahavah grinned at Selie's desperate ploy, stepped back, and balled her right hand into a fist. Selie tensed in anticipation of the blow and then sagged nearly to her knees when the oryx abruptly punched herself in the gut. Rahavah gasped; that had hurt, but she was more acclimated to pain than innocent Selie and recovered much more quickly. The oryx took advantage of Selie's distraction and quickly draped the noose over the springbok's shoulders and drew the knot tight against her spine. Rahavah tossed the loose end of the rope over a metal hook fixed into the wood near the top of the post and curled the end of the rope around to the post where a metal ring was fixed into the wood behind Selie.

Selie turned her head to peer around the post and up at Rahavah. Her tear-filled eyes shimmered in the moonlight. "Won't you feel...?"

"Yes. Every twinge of it, Selie. I must." Rahavah bent her neck around the post and kissed the springbok's forehead.

"Don't do this. Please, please don't..." Selie whimpered.

"That's it, Selie, hold on to your innocence. Don't give up. I need you to be strong," Rahavah licked a tear from Selie's cheek; Selie tasted salt on her own tongue. "Enough talk." Rahavah pulled hard on the rope.

Stars of light burst in front of Selie's vision as the noose closed tight around her throat, choking off her air. Her lips parted in a desperate gasp and her bound hooves scrabbled at the post behind her as the ground fell away, searching for relief, any relief. 

Rahavah worked through a fog of pain, a terrible feeling of pressure making it hard to breathe even though her own throat was bare. The sorcerer consciously forced her own body to breathe deep even though her lungs insisted it was impossible. It took an extraordinary level of self-control and concentration to knot the rope around the metal ring before she stumbled off to one side, her white hands clutching at her gray throat. True to her word, the oryx could feel every twinge of pain that coursed through Selie's young body, but unlike Selie, Rahavah had felt it before. The sorceress knew exactly how far was too far, and how long she could leave the springbok to hang. The initial shock of intense pain subsided after several agonizing seconds into an incessant throbbing, as it always did, and Rahavah marched around in front of the post to get a clear view. 

Selie's legs kicked, jerking her body forward, though her bound wrists prevented her from swinging too far. Her heartbeat pounded against the inside of her skull, her lungs burned, her tongue lolled from her mouth, and tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Why would Rahavah - Rahavah, the old beggar who struggled just to feed herself - do this to her? She sank despairing into the pain and met another sensation rising, a feeling of alien pleasure. Through the veil of her tears Selie saw the moonlit form of Rahavah standing below her, both hands methodically massaging her own crotch.

The spectacle of the lithe young springbok fighting for her life excited the oryx, and feeling everything that her tortured body felt without having to experience it herself only made her ecstasy more intense. Rahavah's vagina responded eagerly to her touch and she grinned as Selie's vulva began to glisten and throb in reciprocation. The oryx wanted to keep going, to let Selie suffer until the life was strangled from her body, but she knew she could not allow it. Rahavah was too vulnerable right now, the bond not yet strong enough; if Selie died now, without the proper circumstances, Rahavah risked dying as well.

Just as Selie's eyelids started to flutter, Rahavah propped a sturdy log upright beneath the springbok's struggling hooves. They gratefully accepted the support and Selie's weight was once more grounded on a solid surface. Rahavah reached up and loosened the noose around the springbok's neck, allowing both ungulates to breathe freely again.

Selie gasped in relief, her chest swelling with deep shuddering breaths as blood and oxygen resumed their unrestricted flow. She opened her mouth to speak but only a dry rasp came out.

"Don't speak, Selie. Just let your throat rest," Rahavah stroked a hand across Selie's chest, feeling the vibrant thudding of her heartbeat, "You won't need it much longer, but that's no reason to strain yourself." 

Selie whimpered at the harsh reminder that the oryx was still intending to kill her; she had hoped that Rahavah had had a change of heart when she had been saved from hanging. Selie smelled the scent of her own hide as Rahavah pressed her muzzle to Selie's stomach just above her teats.

Rahavah nuzzled Selie's soft white fur with her wide gray nose, her warm breath tickling both their bodies as it washed over the springbok's fur. The oryx's hands caressed her captive's supple body, tenderly massaging her back and her thighs. Rahavah dipped her head until her mouth was at Selie's teats and she began to tease the sensitive nubs with her lips. Selie shivered at the skillful stimulation, unsure of what was happening to her body and unable to fight back.

Rahavah worked her mouth lower, a trail of soft kisses tracing the gentle curve of Selie's body downward from her teats to probe the springbok's virgin folds. The oryx's lips parted and her tongue slipped easily inside, intimately teasing Selie's clitoris. With the connection between them it was as though she were romancing herself. She knew precisely where Selie's most sensitive spots were as though the springbok's body were her own. The oryx moaned and pressed her forehead to Selie's crotch, the sharp tips of her long straight horns level with Selie's chest.

Selie tried to resist but the oryx was more experienced, her psyche stronger; Selie may as well have tried to stop the world from turning. She gave in and let Rahavah's feelings guide her own. With her tongue still romancing Selie, the oryx began to finger herself with one hand; the dual stimulation was too much to bear. Before long the two ungulates were undulating in unison, their bodies telepathically tuned to the same ecstatic signal.  

"Hh! Hh! Ahh-!" Selie rasped in the throes of pleasure she had never even contemplated, her panting timed in sync with the jangling of Rahavah's jewelry. The springbok's short tufted tail swayed in lock with the swishing of the oryx's long wispy tail. Selie could feel their bodies each building to something, something wonderful. She wanted it. She wanted it bad. They was almost there... so, so close... and then Rahavah stopped.

Rahavah pulled her muzzle away from Selie's damp folds, huffing and panting to regain her breath. She wanted release even worse than Selie did, but more importantly she needed to maintain control. It was not time yet, and timing was the key to the whole ritual.

Selie looked down at the oryx quizzically, the slack noose digging into her neck slightly. "Rahavah, don't stop."

Rahavah made no response as she bowed her head and angled her neck.

"Rahavah?"

The oryx stopped with the tips of her horns just touching the flesh of Selie's torso below and to either side of the springbok's teats.

"What are...?"

Rahavah tensed her neck muscles, the tips of her horns making small indentations in Selie's short fur.

"Don't... Please..." Selie trembled.

Rahavah grunted and thrust her head upward, her horns piercing Selie's hide and spearing her guts to a third of their length in one jab.

Selie screamed in primal agony. Her neck hurt, a phantom of Rahavah's pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her violated gut.  

Rahavah screamed too; her body was seized by a pain that was not her own, and it was exhilarating. She gritted her teeth and pushed deeper, fighting back the pain that threatened to consume her. 

Selie sobbed as the oryx's horns pierced slowly further through her vulnerable innards. Each segment of Rahavah's horns was thicker than the one before, sending a fresh throb of agony through her body as the wounds in her hide were stretched incrementally wider. Under the pain the arousal Rahavah had boldly coaxed from her body refused to wane. In fact, it seemed to be growing stronger.

Rahavah encouraged her arousal with one hand, forcing her pleasure on Selie even as she forced her horns into her torso. With her other hand Rahavah caressed Selie's trembling brown thigh, savoring the feel of her tender furry flesh. It had been a long time since she had killed, and it would be even longer before she needed to again. There was no other thrill quite like it, and Rahavah yearned to make the experience last. 

Rahavah could feel precisely how much damage her horns were inflicting; sense every organ impaled or roughly pushed aside, every vein and artery torn and bleeding. Selie's diaphragm presented some resistance but was soon punctured. Rahavah felt the tip of her right horn press against the springbok's heart and she stopped pushing. The oryx's horns were now buried in Selie's torso almost all the way to their base, her muzzle once again aligned with Selie's glistening nether lips.

Selie let out a sharp gasp as Rahavah grabbed the springbok's buttocks with both hands and thrust her hips forwards. Rahavah buried her nose in Selie's succulent cunt and set to work with her tongue. She bobbed her head back and forth and up and down, gouging Selie's wounds wider with each movement, ruthlessly shredding her innards. The feeling of tearing flesh and flowing veins drove the oryx recklessly onward in a bizarre dual ecstasy of simultaneous sadism and masochism, her helpless captive along for the ride. Hot blood oozed from the holes in Selie's body, running down Rahavah's forehead and face. The oryx felt Selie's fragile heart bulge against the sharp tip of her horn with every frantic beat, the panicked percussion echoing through her horns and into her bones. Rahavah's own heart matched the accelerated rhythm as their bodies became more attuned with each passing second.

Selie was terrified, unable to comprehend what was happening to her. Every movement of Rahavah within her brought fresh torture, the oryx's dual sword-like horns mercilessly mincing her viscera. The springbok's own curved horns throbbed in sympathy with each beat of her heart as she whimpered and cried. The prolonged agony was horrible, and yet the burning pleasure in her virgin loins persisted stronger than ever, a searing white-hot brand of ecstasy pressed against the inside of her skull. How was Rahavah doing this?

The sorcerer could feel their climax coming, rushing onward inexorably. She began to whisper the ancient words of power, her lips pressed to Selie's vulva. Her hot breath carried the words inside the springbok as she sensed warmth breeze across her own pulsing genitals.

Selie was barely even aware of her lips forming around the shape of alien syllables, a faint whispered echo of unknown words escaping into the night. The unsolicited pleasure was at a peak, the heady scent of female musk flooding her nostrils, the taste of her own cunt filling her mouth. Her entire existence was a suffocating fog of pain and pleasure. Selie craved release, yearned for Rahavah to end her tortures. 

The springbok and the oryx experienced a perfect simultaneous orgasm, an eruption of ecstasy blotting out all other feeling. In that one immaculate moment Rahavah thrust her horns upward the final fatal inch into Selie's pounding heart.

A single scream composed of two voices rent the crystal silence of the night. Selie felt her heart rupture and gush hot blood into her chest cavity, the sensation an agony beyond anything she had ever felt before; for Rahavah, the terrible feeling was all too familiar. The oryx's own uninjured heart stopped abruptly, her blood stilled in her veins. Now came the true test of power, the most crucial moment of her existence. By sheer force of will, Rahavah forced down the reflex to panic and held her mind together even as her body began to fail.

Rahavah could sense Selie's mind disintegrating as the springbok died, her inexperienced consciousness collapsing into uncontrolled instinct. Even with her concentration occupied by maintaining her own consciousness, the sorcerer summoned the deepest reserves of her power and channeled her captive's essence into her own. Selie's life flashed in front of Rahavah's eyes. A fleeting lifetime's worth of memories, dreams, feelings flooded out of the springbok and into the oryx. Rahavah intensely sought for her prize, fighting to maintain control against the psychic deluge that threatened to overwhelm her and fatally destroy her concentration. 

At the very last moment, with Rahavah's mind mere seconds from using the last of its oxygen, the flickering spark of Selie's soul abandoned the only home it had ever known. Weakened and confused, it attempted to flee but Rahavah lashed out mentally, seizing Selie's soul like an eagle snatching a fish from a raging river and dragging it into her own mind.

Sixty years of unlived life hit Rahavah like a mallet to the skull. The telepathic bond shattered and her heart restarted with a jolt, the sudden surge of oxygen sending a rush of energy through her. The oryx dropped to her knees clutching at her head; her blood-soaked horns slid free of the springbok's corpse and a hot crimson torrent cascaded from the wounds, washing over Rahavah as she shuddered, inhaling deep lungfuls of cold copper-scented air. She had done it. Rahavah laughed wickedly, the echoing cackle piercing the night from one end of the forest to the other. The sorcerer grinned and passed out exhausted.

--

The full moon was just setting and the sun just rising when Rahavah stirred. The cold night had given way to a humid dawn, with the promise of rain. Rahavah sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stretched in the gray light of daybreak. Selie's body loomed above her, still hanging from the post. Flies swarmed around the putrid holes in her stomach and crawled across her face, in and out of her slack jawed mouth and over her glassy, staring eyes. 

Rahavah stood up and her numerous bracelets slipped off her now too narrow wrists and ankles; she was now nearly a half meter shorter than she had been before. Her black and gray fur was now brown and tan, her long and wispy tail now short and tufted. Looking at the springbok's corpse above her was like looking in a mirror, except for a few details: her eyes were a bit blacker than Selie's had been, the tips of her curved horns were a good deal sharper, and there were two small, perfectly round scars below and to either side of her teats. 

Rahavah picked up the tattered remnants of Selie's nightgown and with a quick spell stitched the tears back together. The magic effort made her skull ache; it would be several days before her power returned to its proper level. In her current state the spell would only hold for a couple hours, but that was plenty of time to get back to Selie's - now her - home. Questions would be asked, but Rahavah had gotten very good at lying over the past seven centuries. 

The sorcerer probed the recesses of her mind and found Selie's memories neatly filed away within. She played through several of them, analyzing them with a calculating eye, discerning connections and subtleties that Selie had never picked up on. It was immediately clear to Rahavah that the naïve young buck who worked for the gardener was deeply in love with Selie, something she had never noticed. Rahavah - no, Selie, that was her name now, some things always took some getting used to - decided it would be good sport to accuse him of rape. Perhaps she could even have him executed, she thought with a wry smile.

She probed even deeper and found Selie's soul metaphorically huddled in the very pit of her mind, a fuzzy pink nugget of warmth glowing in the darkness. The soul that was Selie trembled in mental pain as her life was leached away second by second. The sorcerer took a deep breath with her new lungs and a spark of satisfied pleasure pulsed through her when she sensed Selie flinch sharply. 

Surrounding Selie the sorcerer felt the withered spiritual husks of her earlier captives. They, and now Selie, had been stripped of life but denied the release of death. Trapped somewhere in between, wrapped forever within the oubliette of the sorcerer's mind, they were aware only of the misery of their imprisonment. Selie's pain was only just beginning.  




First draft began February 25, 2012. First draft completed March 18, 2012. Editing completed March 22, 2012.