4 comments/ 72730 views/ 4 favorites Savage Beauty Ch. 01 By: SapphicMojo Note: This story is the first chapter of a series. To set the scene for subsequent chapters, I've taken several liberties, for which I apologize in advance. I struggled with the question of category for some time before deciding on non-consent/reluctance (as opposed to non-erotic), as I felt it necessary to warn potential readers of the rape scene contained in these pages. I do say rape, not non-consent, and I've made an honest effort to keep it as realistic as possible. I chose not to eroticize it as a matter of conscience. I also send a thousand thanks to my editor, Heather, whose feedback and suggestions have proven invaluable. Carmen says thanks for the underwear. *** Carmen cursed the young colt under her breath as she picked herself up from the ground for the third time that day. She was glad her uncle wasn't here to see it this time. He'd given her the horse when she'd arrived to live with them almost a fortnight ago, and Blaze had proven to be the most obstinate animal she'd known in her nineteen years. She could already feel a sizable bruise forming on her left hip from her latest fall, but she could tell that at least nothing was broken. Before he could bolt off again, she grabbed the reins and gingerly remounted. She began to absentmindedly pick bits of brush from her glossy black hair as she tried to gain her bearings. The petite girl had never topped 5'1" and usually required the assistance of the tree stump outside of the corral to mount, much to the amusement of the hired hands. Awkward as it may have seemed, Blaze had never seemed to mind Carmen mounting him, but that appeared to be the extent of his willingness to compromise. He didn't take direction well and loved nothing more than to fly across the ground, regarding the bit in his mouth as little more than a minor irritation. Drinking deeply from a canteen she found in the saddlebags, the girl realized she was lost. "No reason to panic. I've got at least an hour until sunset. Okay. Blaze knows the area better than I do. Give him his head; chances are he'll either lead us to water or back to the ranch. He's got to be getting thirsty. If he can find the river, I can find my way back from there," she thought. Somewhat comforted by her inner dialogue, she loosened the reins and wrapped the ends around the pommel, giving the horse room to turn where he would. The girl lifted her chocolate brown eyes skyward and whispered a quick prayer to the Virgin before lightly tapping the colt's cinnamon flanks with her heels. Almost at once, Blaze made a wide arc and headed southwest. Sensing no resistance, he soon broke into a full gallop. Leaning forward in the saddle, she gave in to the freedom of simply letting go. Mile after mile, the sun slowly sank lower in the sky, and the landscape became more heavily wooded. When it was too dark to see her still-unfamiliar surroundings, Carmen took up the reins and slowed her mount to a walk, looking for a place to rest. The sun had set about an hour ago, and she just wanted out of the saddle. Her inner thighs had begun to ache, and despite his apparent stamina, she knew Blaze had to be close to exhaustion. Nearing a small stand of trees a few minutes later, she heard a welcome sound in the distance. Gulls, she thought. There must be water nearby. Steering the horse in the general direction of the birds' cries, she felt the day's tension slowly ebb. She'd traveled less than half a mile when she finally spotted the riverbank. Blaze nickered softly and tossed his head. As they approached the riverbank, the young colt became increasingly agitated and more difficult to control. Assuming it was merely because he was thirsty and impatient, Carmen thought nothing of it and focused on finding a place to camp for the night. She was caught completely off guard by the loud report of a rifle a moment later. Blaze reared up immediately. She tried shifting her weight forward to keep her balance, but it was too late. Already spooked, the colt sidestepped once and began bucking. Another shot rang out, and she was falling. *** How long had she been here? Five minutes? An hour? She opened her eyes to the most brilliant night sky she'd seen since leaving Galveston. There were stars beyond numbering but not much by way of light. The sliver of moon didn't illuminate much, but she knew without looking that Blaze was nowhere near. She could barely hear him off in the distance, and it sounded like he was still galloping. She had no chance of catching him tonight, if ever. There were stones digging into the tender flesh of her ribs and she could feel an egg-sized knot on the back of her head. Tensing and relaxing her muscles, she detected no major injuries. Her sense of relief was short-lived as she heard the unmistakable crunch of boots coming toward her. Her vision blurred slightly as she struggled to sit. "Well, well. You might have lost us the horse, but she's probably worth a hell of a lot more than that," said a male voice. Another, much deeper in pitch, mumbled a terse response that was eclipsed by the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked. The footsteps crunched closer, and the two men came into view. Her heart hammered in her chest as her mind tried desperately to process the situation. "Don't move. I'd hate to have to shoot you, but he wouldn't mind a bit," muttered the second man in a rumbling tenor. In the meager light, she was able to make out few details, but the two were so physically disparate that Carmen didn't think she'd have any trouble telling them apart. The first speaker was a tall lanky man who moved with the restless energy of a caged jaguar. Carmen guessed him to be a year or two older than herself. He had dark hair and, from her brief but unfortunate olfactory observation, little more than a passing acquaintance with soap and water. She might have said as much, were it not for the rifle leveled at her. His darker-skinned companion was almost a head shorter, standing around 5'6". What he lacked in height, he made up for in substance. He was well-muscled with broad shoulders and the slight paunch of the middle aged, though he looked to be no older than thirty. His head was almost as round as a melon and completely devoid of hair. There was a large, dark patch on the right side of his jaw, but whether it was a birthmark or a bruise, she couldn't tell. "Shit. If I ever get out of this, I'm trading that damned horse for a pair of boots," Carmen thought darkly. The shorter man closed the gap between them and grasped the girl's upper arm, pulling her to her feet. Panic slowly rising, she stumbled and almost fell against him. Cursing loudly, the tall man strode forward. Sneering at the girl, he wrapped his fist in her hair and began to drag her as she struggled to regain her footing. The shorter man called out, "Damn, Robert. Take it easy on the girl. If you're planning on trading her, you don't want her beat up none." Robert stopped long enough to let Carmen stand. As he did so, his stench finally caught up with her, and she had to brace herself to keep from gagging. It was like dead fish, stale sweat, and rancid cooking oil. The smell was so thick the girl could taste it, and breathing through her mouth didn't help. The tall man tugged her along, and the three arrived at what she assumed was the men's camp half a mile upstream. Still trembling violently, she licked her dry lips. "I... I don't have any money, but I can get..." she stammered before a glare from the tall man shocked her into silence. The dark man caught her eye, urgently motioning to her to be silent. Closing her mouth, she had never felt so small and helpless. A small wagon stood at the rear of the small clearing. Two muddy draft horses were tethered to a nearby tree. A black gelding and a large bay mare, still saddled, were tied off near the mouth of the clearing. Robert reached into a sack on the driver's seat of the wagon. After shuffling the contents for a moment, he brought out a piece of faded blue cloth. Folding it lengthwise, he quickly gagged Carmen. Forcing her into a sitting position at the side of the wagon, Robert swiftly tied one of her wrists to each of the wheels and went about adding more wood to the fire under the cooking pot. After stirring for a moment, he dipped a grubby finger into the pot and shoved it into his mouth. Glancing around the immediate area, Robert called out, "Sikes, where's the damned salt?" "Don't have none. You used the rest last night," said the older man. He walked past Carmen and began rummaging through a burlap sack in the back of the wagon. After retrieving another bowl from the sack, he crossed to the cooking fire and ladled a couple of steaming bowls full of the mixture from the pot. Reaching for a canteen, he poured a cupful of water. Setting the cup down, he carried the canteen and a bowl of the stew to the wagon, setting it next to Carmen. He untied her left hand so she could feed herself, with a warning not to misbehave. Reaching behind her, he gently loosened the gag, separating the long strands of hair from the knot itself. Finally removing it, he stuffed the cloth into his pocket and returned to his own food. Sniffing it cautiously, he picked up his water. After drinking deeply, he smiled at his companion. "It almost smells as bad as you, Robert." Initially relieved at the offer of food, the girl thought, "Well, they wouldn't feed me if they were going to kill me." Once she had a mouthful of the foul concoction, she wondered if they were merely trying to employ a different method. At one point, it must have been something vaguely resembling a fish stew, but the chunks of flesh had sunk to the bottom of the pot and burned. The odd bits of vegetation that had been added were tough, bitter, and woody. She suspected that he had not thought to rinse them, as there seemed to be more sand than seasoning. Nevertheless, she hadn't eaten since midmorning, and it was food. Setting the bowl down, she put the canteen between her knees and used her free hand to uncap it. After wiping off the threads of the canteen's mouthpiece with the hem of her torn skirt, she tipped it to her mouth and drank. The water was tepid but sweet, and she drank more than she probably should have. She shuddered at the thought of relieving herself in front of the men. She returned the cap to the canteen and picked up the bowl, placing it on her upper thigh. Fishing through it, she plucked out a fish head and surreptitiously tossed it underneath the wagon. Breaking the remaining meat into smaller pieces, she then proceeded to drink the stew. She found it much easier to tolerate by simply swallowing, and she made short work of it. Her hunger sated, she was dozing lightly when Sikes came back to get her settled in for the night. He untied her right wrist, telling her to lie down next to the wagon. Tying her hands together, he then tied them to a wagon wheel and bound her ankles. She was grateful when he made no move to gag her. Mindful of his warning not to speak, she offered him a weak smile of thanks and drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were dark and troubled. She was running from something, some unseen predator. It seemed that every step she took, she could feel its hot, fetid breath at the nape of her neck. Sweat beaded on her brow and lip, and her heart pounded in her ribcage. Through the haze of sleep, she startled at the sense of something stroking her leg. Her eyes flew open, and her hands instinctively tried to come up in front of her, but the knots held. Robert knelt before her in the predawn light, untying her ankles. He was dripping wet, apparently having finally taken it upon himself to wash. He was also naked, save a saddlebag slung over his shoulder and a pair of dingy gray boxers that left little doubt as to his state of mind and intentions. Still between the sleeping and waking worlds, it took a moment for Carmen to remember the man. She rubbed her wrists and cautiously stretched her muscles, not wanting to startle or anger him. Gesturing for silence, he took her by the hand and began walking towards the tree line at the back of the clearing. The girl glanced at Sikes' sleeping form and followed Robert deeper into the woods. He caught the gesture and whispered, "He's not going to help you this time." This snapped her into action, and she began to struggle in earnest. She tried unsuccessfully to break free, but he only tugged her closer to him. Whirling on him, she brought her knee up sharply, but he twisted his pelvis, and the blow missed its mark, merely grazing his hip. Drawing back, he slapped her across the cheek. With growing impatience, he began dragging her through the trees, farther and farther away from camp. After they'd walked for about ten minutes, he stopped. Carmen was now crying openly. She could feel the heat radiating from the handprint on her face. She was still tired, and her muscles ached from head to toe. She was also lost, captive, and in the woods with a violent man who was probably about to take her virginity. She had tried to control her panic, tried to think her way out of the situation, but she realized that option was most likely lost when she attacked him. She had known fear in her young life, but nothing could have prepared her for the level of terror that now coursed through her veins. He pushed her to the ground. Kneeling down, he forced her legs apart with his knee. When he started raising her skirts, her hands instinctively flew to stop him. Glaring, he moved as if to slap her again. She flinched and stilled her shaking hands. Moving up her body, he sat on her pelvis, pinning her to the ground. She watched, frantic with terror, as he reached into the saddlebag and brought out a short length of rope and a small tin. He leaned forward and grasped her hands, tying them together. Standing, he rolled her onto her stomach. He reached into the saddlebag and withdrew a cooking knife. Bunching up the fabric from the back of the heavy riding skirt, he began sawing through it. Once he had made a significant notch in it, he put down the knife. Taking the skirt in hand, he ripped it from waist to hem and tossed it. Her two linen underskirts suffered a similar fate. Using the knife to cut the drawstring of her knee length underpants, he tore them from her body, finally enjoying his first unobstructed view of her ass. Drawing her up to her knees, he moved between her legs and untied the cord of his underwear. From her position, she couldn't see what he was doing, but when his hard manhood was released from its confines, she felt it slap against her. Robert felt the girl flinch and grabbed her hips, pulling her back. Without a word, he picked up the tin and popped the lid off. He dipped two fingers into the grease and scooped out a generous amount. He had almost decided against using any after the little bitch tried to knee him, but he liked it better this way. He spread a little of the grease down her crack, using his finger as a homing device. Once he felt her pucker, he shoved his finger into her ass, laughing as she jumped. He twisted his finger slightly, trying to smear it evenly. Robert then wiped a large glob of the grease on his glans, shivering slightly at the delicious sensation. Wrapping his hand around his cock, he lightly stroked himself, spreading the lubricant over the length of his shaft. Oh, God! Rape is one thing, but this is a sin against God! He can't possibly plan on- She felt something hot and blunt pressing against her most secret of places. She felt sick. Before she could complete her last thought, his hips lunged forward, spearing her and tearing a scream from her throat. It was a burning, tearing sensation that sent fingers of fire all the way up her spine. She couldn't breathe, couldn't catch her breath. Her stomach churned, and she tried to lurch forward despite herself. Anything to get away from this! His hips shot forward again, and he felt his balls slap against her pussy. Don't worry, I'll get around to that later, bitch. "Oh, fuck," he thought. "This feels so good. So tight." He readjusted his grip on her hips and began to make hard, deep thrusts that wrought whimpers and sobs from the girl. Unconcerned, he plunged forward like a rutting stag. He could already feel his cum boiling in his balls. He heard a great whooshing sound and flinched, stumbling backward as something flew perilously close to his left ear. What the hell? Carmen saw them long before Robert did, but she was still surprised when she felt his body pull away from her. There was a flash of pain when his cock was pulled from her aching depths. She could hear him struggling to stand, but a second warning arrow was loosed and he was still. Still wracked by sobs, she fell to her side, drawing her knees to her chest to protect herself. Robert eyed the saddlebag, shaking with impotent rage. If he thought he could have reached it before the arrows reached him, he would have gladly shot the interlopers for interrupting his morning plans. It was just bad form, like stealing a hard-won fresh kill. Still, self-preservation kicked in, and he kept his hands up and slowly backed away from the girl. Two sandaled feet came into view, followed closely by two more. The young man closest to her knelt down, speaking in low, soothing tones. The language was unfamiliar, but she did not think they meant to harm her. Her eyes widened when the speaker produced a long flint knife, but he shushed her softly. The boy touched the rope around her wrists with one finger, and then touched the knife again, sitting calmly until she made the connection. When she nodded slightly, he slowly moved forward and began cutting the rope. Once it was severed, he put the knife down, still speaking to her in his strange language. His older companion, meanwhile, contented himself by kicking Robert's shaking form a couple of times before politely turning his back to Carmen and urinating on him. After a brief conversation, the two strangers used the rope fragments to tie Robert to a tree. The bark cut into his naked back and buttocks. The older of the two tied a short length of the rope around the base of Robert's genitals before shoving a piece of leather into his mouth, effectively gagging him. Although he was not in pain, Robert knew the danger he was in if he was not found soon. Growing up, he'd used cord around the testicles to castrate his father's bulls. Over time, the huge sack would simply turn black and fall off. The last rope dropped free, and she stood carefully. Her buttocks and thighs were streaked with blood. She picked up her tattered riding skirt and tied it around her waist. When the two men started back into the trees and gestured to her to follow, she came to a decision. Sikes seemed nicer than Robert, but that wasn't saying much. He might not be so amenable when he discovered his friend's condition; and while he hadn't hurt her, he had made no move to help her, either. If nothing else, maybe these two sandaled men would loan her a horse or find someone to write her uncle. Taking a deep breath, Carmen walked deeper into the forest after her new friends. Savage Beauty Ch. 02 I'd like to thank my editor, thewordsmith2590. Her unusual preoccupation with Carmen's underpants is a tad unsettling, but she is generous with both her time and talent, for which I will be eternally grateful. *** The sun had reached its midmorning height, fingers of light stabbing through the canopy of broad green leaves. The small group's progress had been slow and arduous; still, the injured girl and her two companions had covered many miles since dawn. She had been understandably skittish and was grateful that the strangers had maintained what she judged to be a respectful distance during most of the trek. They had stopped at regular intervals along the way, and the men had shared what they gleaned from a seemingly endless variety of exotic fruit trees and berry bushes. She confessed to a mild fascination with the younger of the two. He looked to be only seventeen or eighteen years old, but the awkwardness of youth had long since left him. He moved with an almost predatory grace that would have been unsettling were it not for his wide and easy grins. He wore his hair much like she did, and it flowed to his shoulder blades like a bolt of black silk. In the center of his chest was carved a stylized sun almost the size of a man's hand. She felt a deep sense of gratitude toward him; two of the arrows in his quiver had put an end to the most harrowing experience of her young life. Without spilling a drop of blood, this man-child had saved her. His older friend was a somewhat odd-looking fellow. Like his younger friend, he was naked save a single piece of leather and sandals. The leather appeared to be simply tied around the hips, with flaps to the front and back. The bronzed skin of his abdomen hung about him like a shirt two sizes too large, the sort of sagging usually reserved for the elderly or the sick. His dark brown hair seemed to defy both gravity and discipline. She guessed him at twenty-five years or so, but he was already missing four of his front teeth and had developed the habit of thrusting his tongue through the gap at moments of intense concentration. Since he also tended to knit his brow, the combined effect was so comical that it took a supreme effort to contain her mirth. Just before midday, she felt a twinge of nervous anticipation as she spotted the village looming ahead. She wasn't sure how she felt about impinging upon the hospitality of strangers, and if everyone spoke in the same tongue as the man-child, how could she ask for help in contacting her uncle? How would she even find out where she was? A low murmur arose as they approached, heads turning to gaze curiously at the new arrival. A toddler darted out of one of the round huts toward them, only to be scooped up by the teen. The little girl shrieked in delight and flung her arms around his neck as he idly tickled her. A middle-aged woman bearing a striking resemblance to the young man strode forward, glancing inquisitively at Carmen before turning towards the teen. He began speaking in low tones, pausing only to answer her questions. Probably his mother, Carmen thought. The village was larger than it had appeared at first glance. A large, round building with a conical roof seemed to be the center of the community, and was easily twice the size of her uncle's villa. Just south of the large structure, a corral held a couple dozen horses and foals. To the north, a well-tended crop field contained numerous grains and vegetables in varying stages of readiness, and a small creek provided fresh water. She counted at least twenty of the round dwellings, seemingly constructed of wooden frameworks and cemented together with dried grasses and mud. "Mara." Startled, Carmen turned toward the feminine voice. Recognizing the boy's mother, she frowned slightly, struggling for comprehension. "Mara," she said again, patting her ample chest. A slight smile curved her lip as a look of understanding crossed the girl's face. "Carmen," the girl replied, in a near whisper. In addition to the woman's almost incapacitating beauty, a sense of raw power emanated from her in waves. Her liquid brown eyes showed compassion as they swept briefly over her, narrowing slightly as they noticed the bruised flesh of the girl's hip through the gap of her ruined skirt. She reached forward, clucking softly at Carmen's slight recoil. Ignoring the unintentional protest, she brushed the cloth aside and laid a gentle hand against the purple flesh. Detecting none of the heat of infection, she guided the girl into her hut, pausing only to speak to her son. The young man soon returned with jugs of hot water which he set just inside the dwelling. The meager furnishings and complete absence of clutter inside the hut hinted at disuse. Four large crates, presumably used for storage, also served as legs for the pallet bed. Bowls of various sizes were neatly stacked under the bed. Herbs hung from the ceiling beams, most still drying, and Mara collected several. Pulling out a large clay bowl, she rubbed the dried herbs between her hands until they resembled a course powder. Retrieving the four jugs of steaming water the boy had collected, Mara emptied them into the bowl before untying the knots restraining the door flap. As she pulled the last knot loose, the rolled leather unfurled, giving the privacy needed for the task at hand. Mara turned toward Carmen, and her heart wrenched at the apprehensive look on the girl's face. Santos had told her what the pig had done to her, and even with her considerable skill, there were some things she couldn't heal. The girl reddened slightly at the look of pity on the woman's face, her shame warming her cheeks and numbing her heart. Did everyone know? She lowered her lashes, unable to meet the woman's eyes. She forced herself to remain motionless as the woman undressed her, examining every inch of her skin for injuries. Mara dipped a soft cloth into the scented water, her gentle hands working swiftly to clean away the dust and sweat. Carmen winced as the astringent-smelling water ran in tiny rivulets over the abrasions, stinging her tender flesh. She allowed Mara to lead her to the pallet bed, assuming the woman meant for her to rest. Tired from the day's hike and emotionally exhausted, she lay down and closed her eyes. Seconds later, she bolted upright in a blind panic as Mara's hands tried to gently part her thighs. Eyes wide and nostrils flaring in a desperate effort to draw breath, she scrambled back away from the woman, coming up hard against the wall of the hut. The air whooshed from her lungs, compounding her fear as the woman held her hands out in a placating gesture and tried to soothe her in her alien language. Soothing nonsense, but soothing, nonetheless. She's not going to hurt you. Relax. Mara had seen the blood streaking the girl's thighs, and the thought of one so young carrying a bastard forced upon her made her stomach churn. If Santos' description could be trusted, the pig had pleasured himself elsewhere, but she wondered at her eighteen-year-old son's grasp of female anatomy. It was a simple matter for her to kill the man's seed now by applying a salve, but the herbs required to remedy the situation after a woman started to become heavy with child were hard to find and even harder to tolerate. They could make the girl deathly ill. It was a slight chance but one the healer couldn't take. Still murmuring softly, she slowly eased the girl to her back. Grasping one of the girl's hands in her own for reassurance, she gently parted her thighs with the other. Though Carmen turned her head away, squeezing Mara's hand, she didn't resist this time. The woman placed her free hand on the girl's stomach, trying not to startle her with such intimate contact. Moving her hand over the girl's fleecy mound, she quickly separated her lips before gently probing for signs of violation. Meeting the barrier of the girl's hymen, she deftly withdrew, squeezing the girl's hand. Carmen released a shuddering breath, tears of humiliation still drying on her cheek. She struggled weakly to get up, but was stayed by a restraining hand. Mara covered the girl's naked form with a thin blanket, more to assuage the girl's sense of modesty than for warmth. Standing, she leaned over the girl, brushing her hair from her eyes before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. Eased by the maternal gesture, the girl closed her eyes and let sleep claim her. *** Much had changed since the day she arrived. Although she still made mistakes, Carmen had learned much of their language. She spent her days tending crops and gathering herbs for Mara, who in turn presented her with linen for undergarments. When the day's heat had passed, she sat with the women around the fire in front of the large building listening to the singers and storytellers. In the few short weeks she'd been here, these people had become family to her. Carmen gained a sense of belonging and an understanding of the tribal structure and politics. It seemed, for the most part, to be matriarchal. All major decisions were made by a tribunal of the three highest-ranking women, Mara among them. While they frequently consulted the leaders of the hunting and trading camps, the real power of the tribe lay with these three women. Like many small communities, they were rarely called upon to do more than settle petty disputes. There were no marriages, but long-term relationships were common, and a fair number of them were between women. The men were free to come and go as they pleased, for the most part, but many stayed for extended periods away from the village at the hunting or trading camps. The hunters usually occupied themselves with the brewing of grain beer and the telling of stories, but were also charged with keeping cougars at bay and, on occasion, bringing meat to the village. Boys as young as six summers camped here, learning about the making and maintenance of tools and weaponry. By their tenth summer, they hunted small game, honing their hunting and fighting skills in the safe company of their kinsmen. The trading camps were mobile and wagon-based. In addition to trade goods, each carried enough supplies for the traders and their warrior escorts. The traders brought back more than goods. They were vital in inter-tribe communication and returned with word of births, deaths, illnesses, and crimes. Crime among the people was rare, the punishment both harsh and swift. Minor crimes warranted penalties ranging from fines to sentences of servitude, usually served at the hunting camps. Most acts of violence and some acts of theft were punishable by death, and the perpetrators were sometimes known to flee before their actions were known to the tribal elders. It was not unheard of for such offenders to seek refuge with another tribe and a different identity. The older woman had been Carmen's constant companion since she had arrived at the village some weeks ago. The woman had proven to be a patient and affectionate teacher, quick to give a light pat or gentle caress when she was pleased with the girl's progress. They took their meals together, and at night, the girl slept on a spare pallet in Mara's hut. *** The arrival of the returning trade wagons provided a much-needed break. As it was also near mealtime, the traders were swamped with offers of help. As soon as the wagons came to a halt in front of the doors of the massive central building, women began grabbing armloads of cloth, tools, and cooking utensils. Shouldering a large bag of sugar, Carmen followed the line of women unloading goods inside the building. Mara had explained to her that the building was intended to house the tribunal and serve as the administrative center of the village. This was where complaints and petitions were heard, punishments decided, and goods distributed. This was where births were celebrated, deaths mourned, and spirits guided to the next world. Shortly before the girl had arrived, Mara had taken up temporary residence at her son's hut to be close by in case his ailing and elderly neighbor needed assistance. As soon as the goods were distributed, Mara and Carmen would move here. Riders were dispatched to the hunting camps, and after the last of the men arrived, all of the adults were allowed to choose one of the items arranged on the blankets. They moved in order of rank; tribunal first, then the camp leaders, warriors, pregnant women, and remaining villagers. Mara chose a bolt of white linen. She measured the material, cutting a couple of yards and leaving the rest on the blanket. Faces passed by in an endless procession, selecting various items and complimenting the traders' choices. By the time the last item was gone, Mara had two new knives, a corked glass bottle, a cast iron pot, and enough cloth to make several lightweight garments. The pleated fabric of the girl's mended riding skirt was more than enough to keep her covered while astride a horse, but it was also damnably hot. The rear half of the tribunal hut was separated by a dividing wall with three doors. Mara ducked inside the door on the left, quickly depositing her new acquisitions before returning to the girl. Placing her hand on the small of Carmen's back, she guided her toward the front door and outside to the communal cooking pot. Young girls scurried about, bringing stacks of bowls and loaves of bread by the armful. Food was quickly distributed to those milling around the large pot. Despite the early hour, the general consensus seemed to be that the workday was over. After the meal was over, Mara and Carmen joined the throng of villagers walking along the stream. Following the streambed for just over a mile, they came to a large pond. Items of clothing settled like leaves on the grassy banks, dark bodies knifing into the cool water. The girl was becoming accustomed to seeing naked flesh, but her breath still caught in her throat when Mara peeled her linen shirt over her head. The woman's full, ripe, caramel-colored breasts rode high on her chest, with thick nipples and dusty-rose areolas easily two inches in diameter. Her body was lush and well-formed, its ample curves showing no signs of malnourishment, and a backside... Mother of God! A blush stained Carmen's cheeks as the woman caught her wandering eye, an odd smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. The girl lowered her lashes, now coloring furiously, before stammering the first excuse that came to mind. "I don't feel well. I need to go. I need to go now." Mara watched as the girl retreated in the direction of the village. She chuckled to herself, running her long fingers through her jumbled mass of curls. Saying you're sick is no way to avoid a healer, little one. Still, she would have to tread very carefully with this one. She had admitted to herself just days ago that she was enamored of this girl. Her gentle and sometimes nervous manner reminded the woman of a wild bird, small and fiercely beautiful. This girl was something to be protected, nurtured. The woman quickly divested herself of her skirt and sandals before wading into the pond. The water was deceptively cool, given the heat of the day. Rather than endure the excruciating process any longer, she braced herself and dove. The initial shock lasted only seconds, but she felt it the instant her nipples made contact with the water. The contraction was instantaneous and mildly thrilling. Slowly rising tendrils of desire coiled in the pit of her stomach, fanned to flame as random and unnamed bodies brushed against hers in passing. The small pond teemed with tawny, naked flesh that did little but make her long for the one who had run from her. Exiting the pond, Mara bent to retrieve her shirt and skirt. Slipping her feet into her sandals, she walked back to the village, clothes in hand. Striding confidently into the tribunal hut, she spotted her quarry just inside the door to their living quarters. She was but feet from the door when the girl spotted her, glancing from side to side as if looking to escape. Mara looked deep into Carmen's eyes. They held uncertainty but no fear. She held the girl's gaze as she moved ever closer. Reaching out, she ran gentle fingers over the girl's cheek and to her neck, wreaking havoc with Carmen's senses. "Don't run from me again, girl. I've never given you reason to fear me, and I never will." The reprimand was softened by the gentle caress of the woman's hand, her fingers slowly skipping along the sensitive skin of Carmen's long neck. Mara marveled at the responsiveness of the young woman. Tiny tremors wracked the girl's body as she reached lower to cup Carmen's breast in her hands. Mara felt the nipples harden through the material of the girl's shirt, smiling at her quick intake of breath. The girl felt liquid, pliable in her experienced hands. Carmen was beside herself. Strange new feelings coursed through her young body, warring with something akin to fear, yet far less malevolent. It made her tremble, and an unfamiliar heat was slowly building in her loins. She felt a tension building in her body, a desire for something she did not know and could not name. She was sure anything that felt this good must be sin, but she knew Mara to be a good woman. She felt gentle fingers at the nape of her neck, urging her toward the healer. Nervously, the girl gasped, "Mara..." "Hush, child. It's okay." Dipping her head slightly, she brushed her lips along the side of the girl's neck. Wrapping her free arm lightly around the girl's slim waist, she opened her mouth, suckling and nipping the tender flesh. A massive shiver ran the length of the girl's spine. Carmen moaned, pressing her face into the naked mounds of flesh. Of their own accord, her hands grasped Mara's left breast, hefting it gently before steering the thick nipple toward her mouth. Mara gasped as she felt her entire areola taken into the heated cavern of the girl's mouth. Carmen's face was a picture of contentment. Eyes closed, she drew heavily on the turgid flesh, her nose exhaling soft warm breaths on the firm flesh of Mara's breast. Each pull of her nipple sparked an answering burst of pleasure between Mara's damp thighs. The sensuous barrage destroyed the woman's remaining resolve. Pressing her finger against the edge of the areola in the girl's mouth, Mara broke the seal and stepped back from the girl. Carmen's eyes flew open in surprise, narrowing slightly at Mara's chuckle of amusement. Carmen smiled up at the taller woman and tried to regain the lost nipple, but she was stopped by Mara's words. "You've played enough, girl. It's my turn now. I would like you to undress for me." A momentary look of indecision flashed across her face before she complied. She knew the woman had seen her naked countless times, but this was different. Her hands shook so badly that she abandoned her attempt to unbutton her shirt and merely pulled it over her head. She spent several minutes in a halfhearted attempt to remove her skirt before dropping her trembling arms to her sides. Sensing the girl's reluctance, Mara softly said, "You don't have to take it off if you don't want to. We won't do anything you don't want to do, Carmen." Mara moved closer, her hands slowly stroking the girl's arms, gentling her. She pulled Carmen into her embrace, lightly caressing the girl's back as her hungry mouth returned to the girl's throat. A delicious shudder ran up the woman's spine as she felt the girl's small hands upon her naked back, and she began to lightly scratch Carmen's flesh with her fingernails. The girl loosed a long, low moan into Mara's ear, her hands reaching lower to cup and squeeze the firm flesh of Mara's backside. Mara could smell the girl's arousal, a heady scent wafting from the fleecy mound between her silky thighs. She wrapped her left arm around the girl's waist, her right hand reaching up to tangle itself in the long locks at the nape of Carmen's neck. Tugging gently, she tipped the girl's head back and covered her mouth with her own. The young lips were impossibly soft, and she let the tip of her tongue play lightly along the lower lip before nibbling gently. The girl responded immediately, mimicking the movements of the older woman in an effort to return the pleasure she was given. Savage Beauty Ch. 02 Mara coaxed the girl's mouth open and began languidly tasting her and stroking Carmen's tongue with her own. Carmen felt the tension slip from her body, her arms reaching up to wrap around Mara's neck as she returned the woman's kiss. Then the girl pulled back slightly, disengaging herself. She blushed as she met Mara's curious gaze. Moving her hands to the knot of her ruined riding skirt, she untied the thick fabric, letting it fall to the floor, followed quickly by her linen underpants. The woman eyed Carmen's naked form appreciatively, kissing her gently before scooping her into her arms. Mara couldn't remember ever being as aroused as she was right now. She was unaccustomed to the slow seduction and wooing of lovers. The idea of attaching shame to sex was alien to her, unless it involved children, livestock, the dead, or force. It was more fun than most sports, and to her recollection, she'd never pulled a muscle having an orgasm. Gazing down at the succulent morsel bundled in her arms, she smiled reassuringly and gently placed the girl on the center of the bed. Climbing in next to her, Mara turned on her side, facing the girl. Placing her hand on the girl's stomach, she stroked slow circles over the soft skin of the tight abdomen. Rolling closer, she leaned her head down, capturing one of the girl's nipples in her mouth, scraping the tender bud with her teeth before suckling on it. The girl's eyes closed tightly, her body arching as if trying to thrust her nipple deeper into Mara's mouth. The muscles of her abdomen fluttered as the woman's hand skimmed over them, searching ever lower. She was about to protest when she felt the mouth move from her aching nipple. She heard it released with an audible pop and felt Mara's body shifting over her. Settling herself between the girl's parted thighs, Mara placed a trail of butterfly kisses from the girl's sternum to the top of her fleecy mound. Carmen's body tensed in nervous anticipation as she watched the woman lay down between her thighs. A sudden surge of fear and indecision stormed through her, and she began to draw herself up when she felt that tongue part the lips of her sex. The shrill pleasure of it sapped her of strength, all thought of fleeing gone. Mara slid her arms under the girl's thighs, wrapping them around Carmen's upper legs and gripping her hips gently as she began to explore the girl's delicate folds. The girl's scent drove her onward, captivating her senses as much as the slick feel of the juicy flesh. Carmen's flavor flooded her mouth, a heady blend of savory with a hint of sweet. The girl twisted and bucked in her arms, her hips instinctively trying to follow the devastating flicking of the woman's tongue. Carmen's hands clutched at the blanket reflexively as the woman took the sensitive nub of flesh between her lips. Sucking gently while softly laving it with the tip of her tongue, Mara was rewarded with a stifled scream. Carmen's hips jogged up and down, her need driving her body into motion. Carmen felt Mara release one of her hips and started slightly as she felt a finger probing her. She whimpered nervously as the woman gently penetrated her slippery depths, her tight inner muscles gripping the intruding digit as she fought the instinct to escape it. She felt it curve slightly upward, massaging her. The combined effect of the penetration and Mara's soft and insidious lips and tongue began to overwhelm her. Her head thrashed side to side, her cries incoherent. Every muscle in her body seemed to draw itself tight. The slow building tension threatened to careen out of control, pushing her toward some unknown and desperately desired end. The girl struggled to catch her breath. Now Carmen's cries became urgent, panicked. "Mara! Stop. Something's wrong." The girl was frantic, gently pushing at Mara's head, trying to disengage the woman. Mara gently clasped Carmen's hands in her own, squeezing her fingers to reassure her. The girl struggled feebly; tense, frightened, and ignorant in her innocence. Drawing the hard button into her lips again, the woman suckled the tender flesh and ground her finger into the roughened patch of flesh inside the girl's clutching tunnel. Staying well short of the girl's maidenhead, she instead stroked the hidden bundle of nerves. Almost instantly, she felt the girl's hips drive upward, her flesh spasm against her, the rhythmic contractions clutching her finger. A long, keening wail was torn from Carmen's throat as she went over the edge, flooding Mara with her juices. Carmen's body arched as it took her, toes curling as wave after wave of pleasure hammered at her senses. The pleasure destroyed her, wringing the air from her lungs and the strength from her limbs. The girl sank back into the bed, eyes open and struggling to focus on her lover's face. Her breath came in gasps as Mara crawled toward her. The woman drew her closer, feather light fingers stroking her stomach, calming her even as the aftershocks wracked her tiny frame. Safe in her lover's arms, Carmen closed her eyes and dreamed.