Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Wandering with a Goddess Chapter 2

   Written by Spinnerfan rikk_319@yahoo.com

   Keros and Chelone have only been traveling a couple of days since he
rescued her at San-Elos, but already they are lost in the rugged foothills
of the Rishash Mountains, with a snowstorm descending...yet the storm will
prove to be as nothing compared to the whirlwind of what occurs in the cave
they find.

   (Mf, inces, Mdom, magic) (Adult male/teen female, incest, male
domination, fantasy)

   Chapter 2, Part 1

   "Keros..." the willowy teen spoke, the fatigue and pain apparent in her
soprano voice.

   "I know," he replied, his own breath billowing out before him in the
freezing temperatures.  "We cannot stop yet." He reached an arm out to her,
brushing a large, calloused hand down her back.  "You will make it."

   Her jade-green eyes implored him from within the hood of her cloak, the
falling flakes of snow around them now clinging to the fabric.  She'd
wrapped her hands and arms as well as she could within the cloak, and
pulled it around her as well, trying to maintain as much coverage of her
slim form as possible, while at the same time allowing enough motion for
her arms to balance herself as she made her way with him over the uneven
ground.

   He gazed back, face set.  "I will not let you fail, Chelone."

   It was three days since they had set out from the ruins of San-Elos. 
Wishing to avoid the nearby encampments of Jekkani tribesmen, he'd taken
them up into the foothills of the Rishash range, rather than backtrack into
territory he'd recently come from.  He'd assumed the tribesmen would be
monitoring the roads for caravans, and didn't want to risk their movement.
More accurately, he would not be able to use his woodcraft to move unaware
through them because of his new traveling companion.  So to the mountain
passes it had to be.

   Eventually the mountain passes.  Even with the weather growing worse,
the Jekkani had also taken up encampments at the entrances to the two
nearest passes through the Rishash, so they had to work their way up into
the foothills in order to bypass the hostile barbarians.  It was a sensible
plan...until the clouds that had been ever present from his arrival finally
decided to unload their cargo of snow.

   Now, hours into a snowstorm for the third straight day, he was seeing
the lack of experience in traveling showing in Chelone's eyes--and
fortitude.

   No, that was not fair.  The girl had fortitude and desire.  She'd seemed
to take on the challenge right away, when he'd had her give her oath.  Her
body wasn't on a par with her ambitions, however.  He was sure her small
feet were blistering badly on the trek through the broken country around
the roots of the peaks before them, mounting and descending rises covered
in fir, spruce, and scattered black oak.

   She complained little, which was more surprising.  What he'd seen of her
spoke of a soft life, and a father who enforced few rules that would help
to harden her.  He'd expected incessant whining, but apparently Chelone had
a sterner core than he'd believed.  Too, she'd spent most of the journey
silent as well.  Perhaps she was too winded to speak much; perhaps she had
too much on her mind to consider after her harsh ordeal of the past two
weeks...but either way, she had revealed little more information since they
had packed what they could find as salvageable and left San-Elos, his
brother and her father buried in a simple grave within his estate's
compound.

   And so he had remained, like her, within his own thoughts during the
journey, and those thoughts were occupied most with plans for what lay
ahead of them.  ~Precious little~, he mused.  The Rishash was not a deep
range, and beyond them lay the Carnage Plains, where not so long ago had
existed the kingdom of Iluin.  They would skirt the plains and remain
relatively safe within the western foothills of the Rishash as they
traveled south, until they could reach the relatively civilized land of
Lor-Ribar...

   "Keros..."

   There was little alarm in the tone of Chelone's voice, but it caught his
attention immediately, and he turned to his niece behind him.  She had
fallen in the ankle-deep snow, but that was not as notable as the wild
spasming of her legs.  Her eyes were wide and pleading as they looked up at
him.

   He gave a short curse as he came to her side and knelt, running his
hands over her slender thighs, encased in what clothing they were able to
procure.  It seems it wasn't enough.  She was too slim to retain much body
heat, and the constant travel had apparently taxed her inexperienced
muscles.  She was having cramps all along the length of her lower body, and
the rest of her was trembling with the cold.

   Keros cursed again, then reached down and lifted her into his arms.

   "I am sorry, Keros...I did not wish to upset you by complaining..."

   The big man shook his head.  "You have done well to come so far, little
one...I have pushed you too long."

   She stared into his eyes, tears welling at her own.  "I want to make you
proud of me..."

   Again, she surprised him with her rapid loyalty.  Seldom did she speak
against anything he said since they had left, and that acceptance was
welcome, though confusing.  When next they stopped, he desired to speak
with her at length, and understand more of this girl on the cusp of
womanhood.  They were to be together for more than a little time, and
thoughts of how to manage the situation were growing in his mind.  "I am
proud of you, Chelone...you have done much without complaint."

   She smiled through her pain, resting her head on his heavily clothed
chest.

   Keros barely registered her negligent weight upon his hefty arms.  Her
body was coltish, but he still found himself strangely thrilled at feeling
her against him.  She had not the curves of a Nalabite blade dancer, nor
the ample breasts of an eager Veruvian whore, yet there was an appeal to
her that was both physical and metaphysical.  He grunted roughly at that,
amused at his own wandering mind; she was his niece, however new to his
experience, and young at that, even if he had lain with females her age
before at other times.  It was not the tenuous family thread that planted a
seed of denial in his mind over her...no, it was more the respect she had
earned from him for surviving the Jekkani assault of her home, and the
stoic, taciturn attitude she had maintained in their journey through the
foothills of the Rishash.

   And yet now it would all be for naught if he could not find a place to
shelter.  As he brought one foot after another before him, he headed for
the closest facing of rock, hoping to discover a cave, or at least an
outcropping large enough to give them partial protection from the snow
descending all around them.

   Chelone pulled herself as best she could against him, and he held her
tighter in response, as he wove his way through the tall pines.  She needed
warmth, and a fire would be a necessity.  His personal knowledge of spells
did not include a dweomer of warmth; one of many he had endeavored to find
over the years, to no avail.  Finding shelter was only the first step; then
he would need to gather wood...

   And then he spotted it.  A less experienced woodsman and traveler would
not have noticed it.  A streak of grey amongst the white, traveling up the
face of the cliff nearest him, clearly visible through the sparse limbs of
the pines above him.  It did not rise more than thirty feet, but he knew
with a near certainty why the face of the cliff was bare.  It was almost
too much to hope for, such a boon, if it was so.  He moved with an already
lighter step towards the bottom of the streak.

   ~ * * ~

   Chapter 2, Part 2

   As he moved past the last lean pine, he saw what he had expected--a dark
crack-like opening in the rock face, the ground around it bare...and the
reason was obvious as soon as he stepped within twenty feet of it.

   Heat.

   Without a free hand, he could not conjure a light-sphere to expose the
dark-as-night space within, so he eased himself and Chelone into the crack,
no more than three feet wide.  Feeling with the tips of his boots, he
determined that there was more than enough space ten feet within to put his
trembling charge down.  Even the surface stone of the cave floor was warm
to the touch, and the air was invigorating to his exposed face.

   But when he went to place the shivering girl on the floor of the cave,
she reached out and clung tightly to his neck.  Her eyes opened, and she
looked up with an expression less of fear than need...though what that need
was, he was uncertain of.

   "Hold me," she begged with an intensity to her voice different than what
he'd yet heard from her.

   "Chelone," he chided, as gently as he could in his deep voice, "I must
search the cave to make sure it is safe.  I must make light.  I cannot do
that while holding you."

   "Just a little more...please," she begged, at the same time pressing her
slender form against him almost needfully.

   He reached around his neck and prised her hands from him, then placed
her against what he'd felt was one of the walls of the cave.  A quick look
at her face in the dim light from the entrance had shown an expression of
shock, before he turned away and put his back to the entrance.  A moment
later the light-sphere sprung into existence, bringing the cave to
immediate, colorful life.

   If he'd focused more on sound, he would have heard the bubbling before
he'd lit the place; it was impossible to miss it now.  Before him stretched
a meandering cavern of dark stone, except for the floor, which was mostly
filled with a mist-decorated pool, clear and revealing a mineralized, white
bottom.  In places it appeared to be three or even four feet deep.  Columns
of whitish mineral stood here and there, as well as stalactites and
stalagmites aplenty, though there were more than enough places where the
floor was both clear and above water.

   It was the bubbling, though, that made him smile.  The hot springs of
Rishash were known far and wide, but those that were indeed known were
usually guarded by jealous and violent Jekkani of a particularly intense
bent, who used them for lustful spiritual rites forbidden to any outsiders.


   For them, however, there would now be no need for firewood--at least,
not for heat.  He moved through the cavern, finding it was less than a
hundred feet in total length, though its sinuous twists would have appeared
more like a snake on a map, if had cared to draw one.

   He returned to Chelone, who was huddled against the cave wall, again
clutching her legs to herself.  Her cramps seemed to have passed, and she
appeared more aware, but her eyes were distant, focused on a point beyond
the far wall.

   Keros shook his head.  He knew girls her age were prone to moodiness,
yet what he had seen of her so far spoke of a brew of behaviors he was not
familiar with.  Too, there were things he guessed at about her, but he did
not know for a certain...though he was ready to learn of them now.  It
would be a necessity, if they were to travel together longer.

   When he stooped towards her, she looked up, startled out of her
musings...then began reaching her arms out towards him.  When he put a hand
forth and grasped one of her own, she squeaked in surprise as he drew her
back to her feet, then let go.

   "Come with me to the water's edge," he spoke, then turned and moved the
dozen feet or so to the steaming, mineral-rich pool.  There he sat again,
and immediately began to remove his boots.  Rolling his breeches up, he
then placed his feet into the heated water.  A broad smile enveloped his
face then, smoothing out some of the small lines around his eyes.  "Try
it," he ordered, pointing to her own shoe-enclosed feet.

   She glanced at him sideways once, silent, then knelt and bent to the
task of removing her footwear.  A skeptical expression covered her dirty,
though fair, features...but when her feet slipped into the water, her
eyelids widened, then fluttered, finally closing.

   "By the gods..." she purred, her lithe body slackening immediately, as a
deboned fish.

   "The waters have healing properties as well," Keros mentioned, grinning.
"Bathe in it later...it will do much to restore you."

   "Why not now?" his niece moaned softly, prying one eyelid open to gaze
at him.

   "We have things to speak of," he replied, gaze steady.

   Her eyes fell again.  "What of?" she asked, her voice barely above a
murmur.

   "Many things.  Our journey has not been planned.  As it was, I had
planned to winter at the inn your father's message found me at.  I was not
prepared for two mouths to feed, or lodge."

   She did not reply, but turned her face to him, listening.

   "More importantly, I wish to speak of you.  I barely know you, and since
we are to be together for some time into the future...I want to know more
of you."

   "That is easy enough," she said.  "I have led a boring, uninspired
existence up to this point."

   He gave her a shrewd glance.  "Most people would say that at your age. I
did myself."

   "Perhaps you can tell me more of yourself, then?" she inquired,
curiosity glittering in her eyes.

   "Later...I hide nothing from anyone, and you will know me well enough, I
warrant.  But for now, I want to know more about you...and your father."

   Chelone's face fell.

   "That look itself speaks more than many words," Keros noted pointedly.
"Were there troubles between you and he?"

   The girl looked upon the waters of the pool, sending ripples with one
petite foot across the surface.  "He and I...were not close."

   Keros nodded.  "I can understand that, from what I knew of him."

   She looked back at him.  "What was he like when you knew him?"

   "A talker," Keros answered honestly enough.  "He was skilled in getting
what he wanted with words."

   She did not speak, but nodded.

   "Our own father he could convince to change his mind more often than
not. When he first began to deal with fur merchants for the pelts we had
collected, he showed a talent for gaining the upper hand through barter."

   "He traded far more than pelts," she said, eyes looking away again.

   "He was successful, I know that," Keros mentioned.

   "At money," she added, a bitter expression crossing her face.

   "You shared in that wealth, did you not?"

   She looked back at him again, eyes burning with an unexpected fire. 
"Not everything can be bought."

   "No," he agreed, "it cannot." He pulled his feet from the pool, turning
to face her.  "What did he deny you that you wished from him?"

   Again her face froze, apparently surprised at his insight.  After a
short pause, she seemed to shrink to even smaller than she already was. 
"Nothing I wish to speak of."

   He shrugged.  "It is your mind to disclose or hide away."

   Her face came up to him then, eyes alight, and she studied him for a
brief time.  Then she seemed to make a decision.

   "He was deep in his women," she finally stated, simply.

   "He took another wife...or lovers?"

   She stared at him.  "His slaves."

   Keros grunted.  "So he did not merely buy and sell them?"

   She sniffed.  "Not merely.  It was his pastime." Her brow furrowed.  "He
spent more time with them than...than anything else."

   "And what did you do during this time?  I would expect you to have been
with friends in town."

   "I was not allowed...~friends~," she responded, bitterly.  "Nor to go
into town...unless it was with him, on ~business~."

   He waved a hand.  "An entire town at your disposal, and you were not
allowed companions?"

   She smirked.  "Oh, I was allowed ~companions~," she spat, "just not
'equals', as he put it."

   Keros looked at her, considering.  Then he nodded.  "You kept company
with his slaves?"

   She gave a sour expression.  "You say it as if I had a choice.  I was
practically raised by them." She paused.  "No, I ~was~ raised by them."

   "Didn't he have servants to keep the estate?"

   "Why?  He would have had to pay them," she answered morosely.  "Instead,
he got what he wanted...in every way...for free." Her voice rose a notch.
"Why would he need a wife, when he could have his pick of any slave he
wanted?  It did not matter how often I asked him...begged him...to take a
wife, so I could have a ~mother~..." She fell silent.

   Keros nodded.  It made much more clear to him.  "Did they do well by
you?"

   Chelone shrugged.  "How would I know?  I have nothing to compare it to."

   "You seem well spoken enough."

   She smiled, looking up at him.  "A few of the slaves were from high-born
or noble families.  They took it upon themselves to teach me.  He didn't
trust anyone from outside the estate to be my tutor."

   His eyes narrowed somewhat.  "So you spent most of your life, only
attended to by slaves?"

   "Female slaves, yes," she added.

   "What did he have you do, with all that time?"

   "Whatever I wished...as long as it did not interfere with
his...'duties'."

   He tilted his head somewhat to the side.  "And what were his duties?"

   She gave him a knowing glance.  "I am sure you know them well enough
yourself." Her eyes traveled down his torso to rest at his groin.

   He shook off her look.  "So you were raised by a cadre of pleasure
slaves?"

   "Yes," she replied, somewhat defensively.

   "And taught your letters..."

   "And some other matters...history, some geography...a little
knife-fighting..."

   "I noticed that," he added.  "But he did not teach you anything else?"

   "Like what?" she asked, guardedly.

   He paused.  "What with all the slaves, and nothing but time, did he have
them teach you any of their...skills?"

   Her eyes seemed to bore into him for a handful of seconds, the
expression on her face inscrutable.  Finally, she sighed.  "Of course they
told me much.  But it was all talk."

   "What do you mean?"

   She scraped the cave floor with a small stone she had picked up.  "I
have spent all my life, from as early as I can remember, in the presence of
women whose purpose is to bring pleasure to others.  Most of them were used
by my father, and most of them sought his favor...by finding some knowledge
to offer me."

   "It makes sense for them to do so," he replied soberly.

   "But it did not to me," she complained, shaking her head.  "Many of the
things...~most~ of the things they taught me...I was unable
to...experience." Here, she looked at him askance again, though she tried
to make it surreptitious.

   "Of being with a man?"

   "Of fucking, yes." She stared at him.

   "He was protecting you," he responded.

   "He never protected me from anything." Her face was hard.  "He would
have had to care for me first, to want to protect me.  He never even shared
a meal with me.  I did not know why he kept me at all.  I tried to come to
him, time after time, from when I was a small girl, and he would always
send me away.  At first I thought it was because he wanted a boy; an heir.
But as I grew older, I saw that was not important to him.  All that was
important to him...was him."

   Her breathing had quickened, and she was no longer facing Keros; the
hand with the stone in it was white-knuckled, and her face was strained.

   "I spent hours every day scheming ways to get him to notice me...none of
them ever worked.  I became desperate for him to notice me, in any way. 
When I began to misbehave, the girls told me not to try in that way, and
they were right, because even that did not bring his notice.  So in my
desperation, I took the advice of one slave, who had one plan she promised
would not fail.  Would not fail, because she understood what my father
truly wanted..."

   Keros waited, but when Chelone did not continue, he spoke.  "What did he
want?"

   ~ * * ~

   Chapter 2, Part 3

   She sat silent for some time, and he chose to allow her the peace of the
moment.  When she finally spoke again, her voice was barely above a hiss,
sharp as a blade.

   "She was one of his favorites.  To her, he would speak sometimes...of
his plans, his great ideas to bring more wealth to himself, and therefore
more women.  Always, more women.  She spoke to me of one night, when he had
drank much, and he had told her of his plan...for me."

   Keros sat silent.

   "It was all long-planned, to be sure.  Part of why he had never spent
time with me.  To keep him...unattached to me.  For he knew the price of a
woman of pleasure.  He knew how much a girl...with elven blood in her...was
worth...on the market."

   He grimaced, but nodded.  It was not much of a surprise, even from his
brother.

   "It explained much...of why I was raised by slaves and not a proper
mother."

   "Or a proper father," he noted.

   Chelone's face was cold.  "I never thought of him as a father.  I was
more a slave to him than anything." She paused, then looked at Keros, and
her expression changed.  "But I am no slave now." She managed a sincere
smile.  "You are more as a father should be."

   He chuckled, waving a hand.  "I am no parent.  I have had no children,
nor do I wish any." He looked at her.  "Know that my family, as yours, was
ill-suited for me.  But I will not do so with you."

   His niece glowed, rising from her spot on the cave floor, and came to
him, climbing within the reach of his arms and curling up against him
warmly.  While he was still unused to her behavior, he did nothing to
prevent it; to the contrary, he once again wrapped his arms about her and
sheltered her.  He felt she deserved that much at the least.

   But there was more to it than that.  He was not one to delude himself,
and was not fool enough to deny that he felt particular cravings with
Chelone in his arms.  His family she may have been, but with her only in
his life for a handful of days, he had not the experience with her to have
formed a familial barrier so far as...manly urges.  Besides that, he was
not the sort to follow any particular culture's precepts, nor any religion
as well.  He'd traveled too far and wide to take up any particular creed.
And thus, while Chelone was indeed his niece, he did not look at her as
off-limits, and he felt no shame in finding her arousing.  She was a woman,
if quite young, and that was all that mattered.

   Keros had lain with many sorts of women in his life.  He was an
experienced lover, if not with relationships.  His own tastes were clouded
even to himself, as he tended to spend time with women only in brothels, or
the occasional farmer's daughter--or wife--when lodging in more civilized
territory.  He had rarely experienced a longer span of time with any one
woman, and thus had not exercised his particular inclinations he'd felt for
his adult life.  With his young niece in his arms, however, he realized
quite suddenly that he enjoyed her eager and submissive behavior.

   Too, he found her form more than pleasing.  She was slight, below five
feet, and while healthy, her petite frame resulted in a weight that was
quite small.  If anything, it only accentuated her femininity to him.  And
while she had formed very satisfactory hips, they, too, were slim.

   So on the whole, the only thing that formed a barrier to his libido was
his growing protectiveness of her, so far as her fragility after her
ordeal. And that, it seemed, was impressed by her resilience.  But he still
had questions...

   "Chelone," he asked, one large hand caressing her streamlined back.

   "Mmm," she purred, seemingly quite content within his embrace.

   "You never told me what the plan the slave had told you was--the one for
attaining your father's attention."

   She squirmed then, though not out of any feeling of being uncomfortable.
Instead, it seemed to be an action uncalculated; a response to whatever
thoughts she had at his words.  Regardless, her lithe body managed to rub
against him in all the right places, and when his manhood responded
naturally to her inadvertent touch, she immediately recognized it.  She,
too, had grown up with no typical set of mores to guide her attentions. 
From her perspective, raised by an ever-changing cadre of pleasure slaves,
such a response from a man was either taken neutrally, as natural as
blinking...or as a positive sign of your own appeal.  It was the latter she
assumed, and it brought a broad grin of both surprise and excitement to her
full lips.

   "She told me," she began, hands moving up to his chest to lie there,
fingers spread, "that I should offer myself to him."

   The sudden exclamation, combined with her hand placement, brought one of
his eyebrows up.  "To bed you?"

   She nodded, snuggling closer to him once more.  "She explained that it
was what he understood, and what he desired more than anything from
women...and I was a woman."

   "A girl," he pointed out, though he did not mention the obvious--that
she was his own blood daughter.

   She seemed to take note of the missing fact as well.  "A female, and one
he felt was worth grooming for sale...eventually."

   "And did you take her advice?"

   She ran one hand down his chest, then slipped it around his waist,
clinging to him.  "I did.  I approached him one night in his bedchamber."

   His hand on her back had slipped lower, pressing somewhat, holding her
closer.  "And?"

   She sighed.  "I told him of my...desires."

   He paused a few more moments before asking.  "...and?"

   Her other hand stroked down his chest, to end on his abdomen.  "He
refused me...though he did not say why.  I am sure he would rather have
kept me...unspoiled."

   This brought a chuckle from his lips, but it died when she looked up at
him with wide, persistent eyes.

   He gazed back at her.  "And you were unspoiled then?"

   "Yes," she answered, somewhat defensively.  "I had said he did not let
me go down to the town..."

   "No handsome guard?"

   "No," she resisted, eyes suddenly pleading.  "Keros...please."

   "What is it?" he asked.

   "I am still unspoiled," she said softly, clinging to him with greater
tenacity.

   He found her eyes more than fetching in their wide, honest brightness.
"There is no shame in it."

   She only looked at him with a deeper gaze.  "After so many years with
women who had lain with men so often..." she whispered to him, "...  it
feels so."

   He only looked into her eyes, silent, for many moments.  There was a
fine trembling in her arms and legs he could easily feel, and her plush
lips were parted appealingly.  Small, willing, and under his charge, she
made no move to leave his embrace; instead, she slipped her hand on his
stomach around his waist also, and rested her head on his chest.

   "Do you wish to know man?" he asked her, one of his hands now moving up
her back, to her shoulders...then neck.  He felt the trembling there
intensify.

   "Yes," she whispered, eyes never leaving his.

   "Do you wish to know ~me?~" he clarified.

   Her breath caught.  She blinked twice, but never took her eyes from him.
"~Yes~."

   "Rise," he said, taking his hands from her.

   She did so, carefully and delberately, until she stood on her bare feet
once more, before him.

   He rose himself, until he stood, towering over her, but she never took
her eyes from him, even when his hands removed her clothing, piece by
piece, and she stood naked before him.  She did not blush or shrink, but
instead seemed to grow more certain of herself under his appraising
eyesight.

   Keros looked her over, very much enjoying what he saw.

   Under his eyes his niece tingled with her own lust, and licked those
fulsome lips, breathing somewhat more heavily now.  Never before had a man
looked on her the way her uncle did...and never before had she felt the
heat of desire burn within her belly as it did now, looking on him, his own
form so very manly and desirable to her as well.  She had heard for too
many years the pleasures of men, and only imagined it.  Now, she realized,
she was on the cusp of finding it out...and with as fine a male as she had
ever seen.  That it was the man who had taken her in and protected her only
increased her hunger and desire.  If she'd felt a connection to him as no
other person yet in her life, it was ever more strengthened in her own
peculiar brew of emotions and understandings.

   He reached forth again, taking her by the back of her head, and pulled
her towards him, and she eagerly stepped forward, but his other hand stayed
her body on her belly.  He leaned in with his head, however, bending
somewhat at the waist, in order to lower himself enough, and then kissed
her on those lush lips he had been appreciating ever since he had first
seen her.

   A hungry little mewl escaped from those lips, and her hands rose, to
cling to his forearms, trembling and needy in their youth and eagerness. 
But she gasped when he broke the kiss suddenly.

   He looked on her again, taking in her youthful, if dirty, face.  Then he
smiled rakishly.

   "Take yourself into the pool, and bathe yourself...I wish to see my girl
clearly in her beauty," he directed her.

   A blush enveloped her entire form, and she gasped softly, joyously
smiling through it all.  ~My girl~ echoed in his manly voice through her
teen mind, and all that would register there was how she could give him the
greatest pleasure, so as to show him her gratitude, affection, and
eagerness to accept his will.

   She turned from him in order to pick her way over to the steaming water,
and once she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder at him, smiling
again, but she was unable to effect any semblance of seductiveness on her
features--she was only too apparent in her lack of experience.  Instead,
she had no realization of the sensuality that was innocently displayed in
her face, owing to the utter submissiveness of her reactions.

   Stepping then into the waters, she gasped again, this time at the heat
of it, but made forward into it regardless.  Acclimating rapidly, she cooed
at the heat soaking into her slender frame, and slipped down into a deeper
section of the pool, soon enough waist-deep in it.  She moaned again,
positively relishing the sensation of the water against her young body. 
Turning to face him, she smiled once more before kneeling down and bringing
herself completely under the surface for a handful of seconds, only to rise
again, gasping and spluttering, and wiping her now-sodden hair from her
face.  This she did several more times, working her fingers over her hair,
face, and body, cleansing it of the ash of her former home and the dirt of
their subsequent journey.

   For his part, Keros watched it all approvingly.  Once she had risen the
final time, he took in her marvelous form, for marvelous it was in its
natural state.  Rosy-hued and shining with the droplets of the heated
springs, her youthful body was obvious in its loveliness.  While she was
not possessed of a hardened musculature, she was sleek and healthy, and the
travel they had yet to do would transform her even more.  Small breasts
rode high on her chest, perky and cute, topped by two hardened nipples,
pink and round.  The triangle of her pubic hair was small and sparse still,
insufficient to cover the flare of her nether lips, which he found most
fetching.  Her legs, while she was short, were slender and attractive, and
were parted slightly in her position in the pool.

   All that paled, however to the face he now saw clearly for the first
time.  Her skin shone radiant in the light of his spell-globe, ruddy with
the heat and deliciously flawless, but for the endearing freckles across
her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.  Her dark hair framed her full
cheeks wonderfully, and she brushed at it absentmindedly, pushing it behind
both ears.  Those light green eyes of hers sparkled with a new-found
energy, missing from her life before him.  Quite suddenly, the disaster of
her life had become, in her mind, the saving grace.  No long-thinker was
she, at least not yet, as at her age the vagaries of a teenage female mind
conspired to put her at the mercy of her heart and heat, and right now she
was completely and thoroughly taken up by the overwhelming attentions of
Keros, whom she saw as nothing less than a walking god upon the world...and
she intended to give him the worship he deserved as her savior and
benefactor, in the only way she knew.

   "Come," he told her, and she instantly obeyed, wading through the
lusciously heated water back to his side, stepping out to stand once again
before him; young, naked, and fully embracing what she knew must be the
fulfillment of her deepest fantasies that even she had been unaware of.

   ~ * * ~

   Chapter 2, Part 4

   In the time she had bathed, he had removed his own clothing, and now she
soaked up the glory of his own firm, powerful form.  He was masculine in
every way to her, from the hair upon his broad chest, to the thickness of
his thighs.  And there, between his legs, hung a cock she had no way of
comparing to others, for it was the first she had seen.  She had been told
of many by the girls who raised her, but to finally see one, and find it
already hardening before her own exposed form, set off more empowering
jolts of pleasure through her.  An overwhelming urge swept through her, and
she suddenly found herself kneeling before him, trembling anew before his
manly strength of body and personality.

   Her choice of behavior was invigorating to him as well.  He had expected
to find her more fetching once clean, but the vision of her there, kneeling
on the cave floor for him, was nothing short of sublime.  The obvious youth
of her body only made her more appealing to him, as well as her apparent
willingness--nay, ~eagerness~--to submit to him.

   He stepped back towards their packs, withdrawing both of their blankets.
One he spread on the cave floor, the other he placed beside him, before
sitting himself...then beckoning her forward.

   She rose again, a spring in her step apparent, as well as that fine
trembling.  She knew what was about to happen, and with whom, and despite
her relish for it, was apprehensive all the same...more for her own
performance than anything.  Already, she worried for her approval from him.
She wished only to please her savior, by whatever means she was capable of.

   When she reached him, he gathered her again in his arms, but this time
he guided her down, straddling him, until his heavy cock was pinned between
their bodies, and her entire weight rested on his powerful thighs.  The
feel of him against her belly was exhilarating, and she squirmed against
him without thinking, mewling with unfettered delight at the touch of such
a powerful part of his body against her young form.

   She rested her hands upon his shoulders, soon placing them around his
solid neck, and drank in all that he was.  She knew he was more powerful
than she was, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and she reveled in
that weakness, eagerly accepting her place through her actions...and soon,
words.

   "Do I please you?" she asked haltingly, smiling shyly at him.

   "Very much so," he replied, his own smile much more confident, and
reassuring.

   She pulled herself to him, delighting in the feel of his solid form,
purring in satisfaction and anticipation.  But then she turned her head up
and her eyes to him.

   "Keros?" she voiced, somewhat nervously.

   "Yes, little one?"

   She smiled at his words.  "I like being your little one."

   He did not speak, but kissed her forehead possessively, and she cooed
eagerly.

   "May I call you what I will?" she queried again.

   "What will you call me?" he asked.

   She paused, blushing, but never took her eyes from him.  "Daddy."

   He felt a burst of desire and affection for her blossom out from his
chest, spreading, until it settled quite firmly at the base of his heavy
cock.  "You will call me Master when we travel among others...but when we
are alone, you may call me Daddy, little one," he allowed, caressing her
back once more, before sliding his hands down to cup her small, firm ass.

   The blatant, confident touch of his hands there brought another gasp
from the girl.  Everything he did seemed to give her a new sense of
confidence, and a growing, surging hunger for more.  Her young, heated lust
was now thoroughly stoked, and she leaned up against him with her nubile
form to kiss his neck and chin, shivering with desire.  "I need you,
Daddy."

   "I know," he smiled through his own desire for her, "my little
Chelone...my little goddess."

   She sighed then, shivering in the near-perfection she felt under his eye
and touch, melting into his frame, breathing his masculine scent, and
finding herself ready for anything he commanded or did...anything at all.
To her mind, he was the only man who mattered...and because of her
experiences, and peculiar mind, she likely rang true in that regard. 
Still, they were heady words, devoured by her blossoming ego.

   "I am your goddess?" she breathed, awed by the certainty of his words,
and the power of them.

   "You are like a goddess, perfectly formed in body and mind," he replied,
continuing to knead the excited and tense muscles of her spherical ass.  He
kissed her lips once more.  "But I do not worship you."

   She giggled once, but her eyes became intense, as her hands ran through
the hair on his chest.  "Then ~I~ will worship ~you~."

   He gave her a satisfied grunt in the affirmative, manipulating her
entire slim form with his two large hands, pulling her close enough that
the wetness of her budding sex smeared against the base of his cock.  He
further lifted her, spreading that wetness along his length, and she
gripped his shoulders, shuddering at the sensation of it all, placing the
balls of her feet down on either side of his broad thighs, and allowing
herself to be guided along him at his pleasure.

   She kissed him in return, even if they were kisses of exploration, not
full-fledged and passionate.  Her enthusiasm was enough for him, however,
and he returned them with his own force, producing more of her now-familiar
high-pitched squeals of delight.  Her tiny hands held on to the thick
muscles of his shoulders, reveling in his power, his force, and his
dominion of her.  She was uncomprehending of any other way to behave, and
even if she had been aware of one, would have quickly and easily chosen the
submissive path, for relinquishing what little power she had to him had
produced nothing but satisfaction for her so far.

   It was no rare thing for a pair of such different ages to couple in
their world, regardless of kingdom or culture.  Life was a short, miserable
thing for most of the inhabitants, and becoming shorter with the growth of
portal magic in general and the various nether beasts unleashed therein. 
Fertility was looked on with favor, and girls became women in most
communities sometime around their twelfth year.  To be a grandsire in the
middle twenties was preferable to death by disease or strife, even if it
was rare enough.  So if a stranger had interrupted the two lovers' steaming
domain, they would not have made much note of it, other than the sensual
intensity.

   The familial bond they held, however, was a much more serious thing. 
Regardless of high mortality, incest was still highly frowned upon, except
in royal circles, for obvious reasons.  And yet, both Keros and Chelone had
their separate, though similar reasons for flouting the deeply-set taboo.
The wandering warrior, long an iconoclast, felt beholden to no authority or
creed he'd yet encountered, and was not the sort to bow to any other.  His
niece, lacking religious or cultural training of any sort, was a blank
slate, and now imprinted upon her obedient psyche whatever the masterful
older man desired or demonstrated.

   So it was, when the moment came, as he raised her up enough to clear the
head of his cock, she reached down and followed his lead, taking the thick
and throbbing member within her small fingers, helping guide it to where
she hungered for it to go.  Her enthusiasm stoked his own hunger for her,
and he found himself far more aroused by her than any female he'd been with
before.  It wasn't difficult to understand why.

   As she steadied his cock below her, he shifted his own hands to her
narrow waist, gripping her firmly.  Chelone bit her lip and looked up at
him again, eyes full of conviction and purpose.

   "Will you keep me always?" she begged, mildly panting now.

   "We shall see," he murmured to her, keeping her in place a finger's
breadth above his masculine spike.  "You may change your mind in a moment."

   "I will want you more then," she gasped, squirming in his hands, seeking
to lower herself upon him, her copious wetness now trailing down to her
thighs in two shiny tracks.

   "You barely know me," he noted, easily holding her in place despite her
actions.

   "I know enough." Her voice was husky and eager.

   "And what do you know of men?" He paused a second, before shaking his
head.  "No, I am sure the women around you told you more than enough."

   "They did," she assured him in a hungry whine.

   He eyed her again, merciless and astute.  "Beg for it, then."

   "Please," she wheedled, now worrying her lip with bright white teeth.

   His eyes looked down upon her, insistent.

   "Master.  ~Please~, Master," she moaned.

   He tilted his head, eyes smoldering and stern, and Chelone wondered what
he would do if she simply relaxed her legs and tried to thrust herself upon
him, forcing the matter.  His eyes, however, revealed an authority she
thoroughly did not desire to defy.

   "Again," he insisted, mastering himself in the interim, fighting back
the urge to simply yank her slender torso down and impale her on him. 
No...she needed to understand, from the outset, what he
expected...~demanded~...of her.

   She writhed within his hands, relishing both the force of them upon her
form, and the force of his words upon her mind.  Never had she been such a
focus of a man's attentions, and her craving for the long-denied experience
was driving her wild.

   "Please Master!" Her hands slid hungrily up into his hair, caressing his
scalp with reckless desire.  Then somewhere in her mind, she recalled
herself; some tidbit of her lessons, and she licked her lips, albeit
quickly, and bored her own soft green eyes into his.  Her body stilled for
a span of a few seconds, and in those moments...she made him her world.

   "Please...~Master~."

   Her chest rose and fell more slowly, her soft, tender breasts peaked by
their rigid nipples, the breath leaving her parted lips like a sweet song.
He felt her relax then; not only in the muscles of her body, but in her
very soul, as she calmed the slavering beast clamoring for him to do what
he would...

   ...and truly submitted to him for the first time.

   She spoke it again; hushed, reverent...worshipful.  The epiphany of it
all struck her fully then: she belonged, not only to him...but she
~belonged~.  She had found, in his arms, under his sway, the place she had
ached emptily for all those years.

   "~Master~."

   A single tear tumbled down her freckled, curved cheek, from an eye that
saw everything she had dreamed of and waited for, contained in a single
man. She cared not how many others filled the world, were stronger than he;
wiser than he.  She belonged to ~him~.

   "~Master...~" she breathed...not imploring; confirming.

   So still she was, so focused on him, that she felt his muscles tense for
the act even before they began to move, and her breath hitched for that one
moment, as if before a plunge.  Her legs relaxed, allowing him to fully
bear her weight.  Down she moved by the strength of his arms, and the first
touch of him against her sopping lips sent a jolt of sensation up her
spine, arching it, gooseflesh spreading out over her extremities.

   He did not halt at the touch of their flesh together, instead allowing
his momentum to press the broad head of his manhood deeper into her
channel. The feel of it was enough to take her breath away, literally, and
she gasped a second after, still feeling him sliding her down further,
making use of her body like the finest calfskin glove.  It was a moment
later that his bulbous head pressed up against her virginity, but there was
neither pause nor reflection, the point nearly unrecognized as he continued
with the same pressure, and a moment after that he was through.

   The pain was sudden and intense, but only for that moment.  It caused
her to yelp, but while the pain continued, it was so melded with the
pleasure she was feeling there and elsewhere that it became a part of the
pleasure.  The sensation of being filled was almost overwhelming to her
young mind and senses, and a shivering half-moan tumbled from off of her
tongue.  Harshly she pressed her fingers into his scalp now, but she was
not even aware of that.  All she knew, could know, were those deep blue
eyes piercing her own, and his invading cock, piercing her now-unvirginal
cunt.

   It went on, sliding further and further in, bringing her to gasp now
with every breath, her mind overborne with an excess of sensation and
emotion.  She did not consider how much of him she could take, or what
would happen once he was completely secured within her--if possible--or
even how thoroughly she was overwhelmed by his every action.  All she knew
were his eyes, holding her more tightly than those manly hands on her
slender waist, and that masterful cock driving through her relentlessly,
like a frost across a glass pane on a midwinter's eve.

   All of this did not go unnoticed by Keros.  He could see and sense the
depth of her dedication to him, so sudden and so thorough, though he knew
they were new to each other.  It spoke much to her frame of mind, and the
truth of her words on her upbringing.  He knew, in a corner of his own
mind, that what he was choosing to follow as far as their new relationship
would be reviled by many if they knew the truth...but he had never heeded
the frowns of others, or their lack of vision.  He knew what was good for
him, and he believed he knew what was good for her as well.  She would not
lack for the attention of a man again, as long as she remained with him,
and that, he now knew, was what she craved more than any material wealth.

   No words passed between them--only glances--as he slid that massive
thing inside of her, until finally no more would fit, and he could feel her
cervix with the head of it.  At that touch, she knew she was completely
filled, and the mere understanding of it brought a satiated moan to her
throat.

   He held her there, leaning in to kiss her thoroughly again, all while
she meekly sat upon him and took his ministrations with a trembling and
utterly willing acceptance.

   "My little Chelone," he whispered into her tingling ear.

   "Yes," she purred, shivering and pressing herself closer against him
with a greater arching of her slender back.  "~Yours~."

   "Mmm," he groaned, pushing upwards, adding to the pressure against her
inside, until she responded with her own excited and overwhelmed squeal.

   "Godssss...it's so big...and ~all~ inside me..."

   He smiled, adjusting her a bit.  "Mostly inside you...you're a small
one."

   She looked up into his eyes then, a vague uncertainty in her own.  "Too
small?"

   He shook his head.  "Small is very good."

   She sighed, pressing her erect little nipples into his abdomen and lying
her head on his chest, but then he reached one hand up and took her chin
again, bringing her eyes to his once more.

   "It is only the beginning."

   And before she could ask what was to come, he indeed began, lifting her
by her waist, sliding her off of his engorged cock, then back down again,
in a smooth, deliberate rhythm.  The cadence and the pressure of that
massive thickness sliding once more inside of her, but more rapidly...and
then ~out~...and then ~in...~

   "Oooh!" she cooed, though the intense pleasure she felt was accompanied
by that enormous feeling of being stretched and ~filled~.  It was unlike
any pleasure she had ever felt in exploring her own body, however good that
had always been.  Adjusting quickly to the powerful emotions and ecstasy
she was experiencing, Chelone continued full eye contact with her uncle,
feeling all the more excited and arousing for it.  For the first time in
her life, she not only felt wanted, but powerful.  It was an odd thought,
her mind reasoned in the background, to give herself so thoroughly to him,
and yet to feel so emancipated.  It was a small thought as well, not the
focus of her mind, but it planted itself in her psyche and took root there,
sure to grow to a considerable size and importance as she spent more time
with Keros.

   And he was completely pleased with it all as well, manipulating her
fine, slender form atop him, drawing pleasure from her body and her
behavior, all the while considering how more to extract every last drop of
her loyalty and enjoyment from it.

   "Do you want more?"

   "Yes!" she gasped, mouth open, breath heavy.

   "Yes, what?"

   She paused the span of three breaths before answering enthusiastically.
"Yes, Master!"

   "Good girl," he intoned, gracing her with another satisfied smile.

   "Mmm," she moaned, as much a slave to his actions as to his words.

   But it had been a span of months since his last woman, and Chelone was
far, far more appealing and enthusiastic than that wench had been.  He knew
he could slow their pace, lift her off of him, or do any number of other
actions that would delay the inevitable...but for this first time of hers,
he wanted her to know his full excitement at her, and her own eager and
willing acceptance of him.

   Some several minutes later, their bodies now glowing in the reflected
light with their own individual sheen of sweat, Keros himself began
gasping, bringing his niece up and down upon himself with greater
enthusiasm and energy.  She was in her own throes of passion, wildly
running her hands over his chiseled form, too far gone in her own miasma of
pleasure to take any heed of the pain she was also experiencing.

   Chelone, sensing something greater was close to happening, kissed his
neck, licking some of the sweat from it excitedly.  "Master...do I please
you?"

   "Yes," he panted, now thrusting his hips up into her as he plunged her
down with his arms.

   His terse answer seemed to energize her even more.  Young and
inexperienced though she was, she knew enough to be able to tell her
benefactor and protector was enjoying her very much.  The revelation spiked
her own desire, and the fingers of one slim hand made their way to her
clit, which she wasted no time in massaging with the tip of a trembling and
quickening finger.

   "Chelone," he said suddenly, firmly and powerfully.

   "~Yesss~," she moaned, eyes drunk on her own euphoria as they took him
in.

   "Cum for me," he ordered, almost unnecessarily.

   Just the words powered a thrill through her slight frame, a harsh shiver
following it a moment later.  Without realizing it, an orgasmic scream
began deep within her chest, skirling its way up through her throat, as her
insides melted from the heat of her passion--at least it so felt to her. 
Her finger pressed down on her throbbing button, as he penetrated her
completely, and her scream gave her orgasm impetus to push her beyond
anything she'd ever felt or imagined before.  And it went on, longer and
more intense than anything she could have dreamed of, her other hand raking
his chest harshly as she became unknowing of anything else in the world for
those seconds, but the explosion of her own uninhibited pleasure, and that
awesome cock of his filling her beyond her body's expectations of what it
could possibly handle.

   A deep breath, and another scream ripped itself from her lungs...and
another.  And on it went, her orgasm that put a false face on anything
she'd ever considered an orgasm before, as she squirmed and shook
uncontrollably upon him, impaled on that stake of masculinity she never
wished to be removed from.

   Her own reaction and pleasure was more than enough for him to carry
himself over the edge, and he grunted loudly as his own climax engulfed
him, pressing her down upon him more harshly than ever.  And his seed
erupted within her petite form, thick and hot and copious, trapped between
the apex of her silky-wet femininity and his invading manhod.

   When she'd regained enough of her senses to realize what had happened,
she knew what it all meant, and it gave the afterglow and growing
recognition of her own pain a sheen of happy satisfaction.  Her uncle had
cum in her, giving her his seed, and possibly his child in some time.  It
only made her crave his attentions and approval all the more.  She was
without a doubt, absolutely, his.

   And he knew it as well.  A girl her age with child would be a greater
burden for him to care for, if she became with his child, but he was, at
that moment, thoroughly sated and accepting of it.  Still convinced of the
gods' interference considering her survival and his taking her under his
protection, he sighed contentedly, lying back on their cloaks and bringing
her with him, in his considerable arms.

   She snuggled happily upon him, slick with both their fluids, slight arms
wrapped tightly around his thick neck.

   "I am your girl," she stated simply, the devotion in her voice thick and
sweet.

   "Yes," he replied as clearly.

   "And I will do whatever you will." She placed a reverent kiss on his
matted chest.

   He grunted in reply, but it was a tender and attentive grunt at that.

   "Anything you will of me," she repeated, feeling the burn of her body,
of the muscles in her thighs and ass, from the journey and the fucking
both, and throbbing of her cunt, stretched and torn and penetrated so
masterfully by him, and still filled, even with him softening.

   "I am pleased," he answered her, stroking her dark hair, then holding
her head firmly to him.  In his own mind, the realities of their situation
were beginning to bubble back to the surface, through the haze of pleasure
he had allowed them to have.  They were still without a destination,
ensconced within a warm cave, yes, but within a harsh territory in the
winter, among some of the cruelest of peoples.

   Chelone was a godsend, he believed.

   And those selfsame gods would not leave them or abandon them now.

   Such was his last thought, as he felt her breathing become shallow and
steady, and his thoughts strayed, and his eyes closed, his own breathing
matching hers.