The morning greeted Goza already coated in a light sheen of sweat from his morning exertions. He always rose with the sun. By the time it breached the horizon Goza had already dressed and scaled the side of his mountain to the training grounds. By the time his feet hit the ground the men were scrambling into formation; fierce punishment awaited anyone not ready for battle at daybreak. The fresh rays bathed Goza's unusually pale musculature in a golden glow; he squinted his silver eyes in the harsh light but his stature remained firm. Today he would demonstrate with the double edge sword. He maneuvered the massive weapon with ease, hacking at the stuffed figure with frightening precision--the arms and head were severed in short order. The eyes of the troops widened with fear and admiration. He turned towards them, ‘Any questions?’ It was an eventful session from there. There were the usual wounds and injuries, and at midday the men broke, either hunting for food or taking part in the mountain rations.

Goza sat on the edge of The Perch and tended a rather deep gash along his arm in silence. He was no stranger to bodily damage. A lesson was not fully learned without pain. He had finished wrapping his arm in a cloth soaked with nettle when a sentinel announced his arrival below. 'Sir! I received word that the gift is on the horizon. Will you receive it in the great hall?' 'Indeed,' Goza returned tugging the knot secure with his left hand and teeth. He stood and turned towards the mountain, he smirked. Today was shaping up well.

*

She ran through the forest as fast as she could. Under normal circumstances she would have been a blur to the naked eye but the wound in her side slowed her down considerably. She had long since lost her arrows and her bow itself was her last means of open defense. They were gaining on her. She had ripped her beautiful tunic, the strips helped staunch the bleeding from the slash in her arm. She ran on. There was no certain safety in either direction she chose but maybe if she were far enough away they would find someone else. Doubtful. She knew she should go peacefully instead of fighting but it was in her nature to rebel. She heard shouts which meant they were recruiting more to find her, maybe even some of her own people. If that were the case she would never escape. She knew this forest like the back of her hand and if she could just make it to the big Silva...she crashed into something large and unmovable. She quickly bounced up from the ground and wrapped her bow around his neck, using the metal crest in the center to crush his windpipe. Fitting. But before she could relish this small victory five more surrounded her. She rushed at the first one but was stopped by her own village leader coming from her left. ‘Let’s not be difficult hmmm? You know this is the only way. You must save our people.’ ‘Traitor!’ she yelled angrily and was overcome by the veritable animals that disarmed her and tackled her to the ground. ‘I will never submit! Never!’ she yelled fiercely before all went black.

*

A harsh movement of the cart roused her from her induced slumber. She tried to sit up but encountered some difficulty when she noticed her previously tied wrists were now also secured to her ankles. She attempted to look around with one eye (the other was nearly swollen shut), but black curtains had been draped over her “would be” prison. Her face felt tight from the swelling. She cracked her jaw back into place and winced from the strain. Doing a brief inventory of her other injuries she became aware of the numbness in her left foot signaling a few ankle bones had been broken. No matter, she would mull over heavy thoughts and give her body a rest for a while.

A gift.

They should have known she would never willingly go along with such nonsense. And since when was it acceptable to give one person to another? The person in question was reputed as the fiercest warrior in the land, but she was more concerned about her enslavement itself than who it was to.

Property.

It almost, no it definitely was, more than she could tolerate. If her captors thought for a moment they had witnessed the worst of her fight they were sorely mistaken.

Even so, she was in a faraway land, with no help and no means to return home. The crippling thought that she may never see her family again assailed her. She choked it down. There was no room for tears or weakness where she was headed...wherever that was.

And so she trundled along in the cart, laying still for the best benefit. Her options and uncertain future weighed heavily on her mind. No matter what, she would be no man's slave.

His minions came in with their prize in tow, one sported a limp and the other appeared to be missing a large amount of  hair...and an eye. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Goza inquired, gazing at these fresh and interesting battle wounds.

‘It would seem the prisoner was less than agreeable to be presented to you Master.’

‘Prisoner?’ Goza said in a thoughtful tone. ‘Earlier this morn she was a gift. What has changed?’ The bag that had been tossed on the floor at his feet wriggled and shuddered violently. 'Show me this prized prisoner,' he said, more than a little curious. Uneasily, the two guards approached the bag and unceremoniously dumped its contents in front of Goza. Out spilled some sort of female. Goza first noticed long, brown, beautiful legs capped with equally long delicate feet and hands which were presently trussed together with a thick leather knot. She wore green short legs to cover her buttocks and thighs beneath a diaphanous wrap that would have come to her calves had it not ridden up under her breasts during her struggle. As it was her midriff was bared to Goza and his accompaniment. Her face could not be seen beneath a sack over her head but the black tendrils extending to her shoulders and breasts were decorated with now crushed flowers and leaves. At this point the guards set her on her knees and snatched the brown sack off of her head before quickly stepping back.

Goza was surprised to say the least at the beauty glaring up at him. What appeared to be the yellowing from an old black eye was almost healed; he wondered when it had happened. Aside from a few other scrapes including a bleeding streak from her eyebrow to her ear, her smooth, hazelnut brown skin was unmarked. Everything about her from the round nose to full lips was so foreign, yet appealing. Her beauty did not belong here in this barren wasteland but he was selfish ...and he would keep her.

He reached for the gag she had between her teeth and tied behind her head, she growled. He chuckled; surely she could be No more barbaric than he. Goza reached behind her head and undid the gag. She said nothing. It was only when he came face to face with her that he realized her eyes were dark green. At this present moment they flashed with an inner fire and were narrowed with pure hatred. If she thought her show was intimidating she was sorely mistaken: it served only to excite Goza more. He leaned in further and caught a whiff of her earthy scent. He wanted to see what she could do. As he reached behind her to untie her binds, she spoke for the first time since she had been presented to her new “master.”

‘Why would you release me? Do you not know I will kill you at my earliest opportunity?’

Goza looked her directly in the eye. ‘I would welcome your attempts little one. Many have tried, and I relish even a taste of that which I've dealt so many others so often.’

With that he removed a curved blade from his waist and sliced through the leather knot she had been firmly secured with.

Goza nodded towards his men, 'You may leave now.'

‘But Master, I don't believe that is such a good idea...’ he trailed off lamely at Goza's expression. She saw this as her chance to get the jump on him and lunged while he maintained eye contact with the guards. She balanced on her hands and used both legs to kick upwards into his chest. Although he was not looking directly at her Goza anticipated her movement and grabbed her ankles in the crook of his elbow as he stood up. The guards scurried out.

She dug her nails into his calf, digging in until she drew blood. He kneed her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her for the second time that day. Goza shook her once for good measure and dropped her to the floor. She sprang up after a second and threw herself onto his back. Using the dangling straps that were once her bindings, she grabbed one in the opposite hand and constricted his windpipe as best she could. Using her body as a counter-weight she practically hung from his neck attempting to choke him. Goza backed into the wall of the cave, crushing her easily. She lost her grip and slid to the ground, thoroughly battered.

Seeing no way to win against this stone block she decided to turn and run for the exit. She would take her chances with his underlings. Goza missed her ankle as she slipped between his legs, but he was only a step behind. She honestly didn't have enough time to pick up speed; he crushed her to the wall, again. She rammed the back of her head into his face as hard as she could. He grunted and moved away slightly. She spun to face her attacker. Bad move. Goza grasped her wrists in one hand and pushed them into her neck. She could only kick feebly as she rapidly began to lose air. His choking method was much more effective than hers, she admitted. He took out his knife and her eyes widened in alarm. Now she would die. Goza put the blade to the side of her throat. Rather than painting the cave floor with her blood, Goza merely used enough pressure to well a small amount to the surface. He ran his tongue over the line as it began to drip. Loosening his grip just enough to let her breath, he molded himself to her.

‘For every drop of my blood you spill, I will spill some of yours.’

She felt something low on her pelvis that underscored the danger she was in, in a different way. She had done little but rouse him. He caught her terror with his own eyes and smiled. She got a good look at him. The blood dripping from his nose and lip looked fitting among the old cuts and scars riddling his face. The beast was sick.

Goza made short work of putting the girl in a sleeper hold and rendering her unconscious once his point was proven. He scoffed in disgust that his men couldn't even do that simple task without wounding themselves to the point of debility. He looked down at the beauty he still held by the neck. She was definitely something. Equal parts fierce and determined. She stood toe-to-toe with him and refused to back down, even when they both knew he would win. Goza wanted to claim her in every possible way, making her submit would be the ultimate victory. He signaled his guards to come back in. One he sent to begin construction of a collar and the other he had carry her to his private rooms. He had business to attend to first or he gladly would have spent his time in her. He sheathed his blade and willed himself to gain some control. Plenty of time for that later.

She awoke in a warm, dimly lit cavern, disoriented and confused. As her eyes adjusted to the flames licking upward in the center of the space, she followed the smoke as it traveled toward a high, naturally vaulted ceiling and disappeared into a tunnel that had been carved into the wall. As far as she could tell she was alone. Her first thought was to look for an escape.

Nimbly, she rolled from the raised pallet onto her hands and knees. She crawled soundlessly over to the nearest cave wall, keeping low to the ground. She let her hair drag slightly on the floor and felt no signs of life. Judging it to be somewhat safe she continued along the same wall, towards what appeared to be a distant flame. Her progression was slow and somewhat tedious, her knees began to ache. She refused to stop because the glow was growing the closer she came to it. Suddenly the narrow entryway opened into another large cavern. She realized the reason she could feel no life was from the liquid rock coursing through the passage obstructing further travel. It flowed from the rocky ceiling before emptying into a large hole in the floor.  The temperature increased dramatically. The space was open, but no way was she going around the hot stream. She stood and began to ease her way back in the direction she came.

Goza strode down the hall, his stony mask of a face underlying his excitement. He had his men put her on his bed but he would give her a chance to try and escape if she so chose. He could hardly wait for the night.

Striding into his sleep chamber, Goza was only mildly surprised the woman was not where she had been left. She could not have gotten far with no prior instruction to guide her through the maze of caves that made up his private quarters. Goza could already feel a quickening in his veins from the thrill of the hunt. It was only a matter of time before he found her.

She crept back towards the main room at a faster pace than before. However, she was alerted to a new presence nearby that had not been there. She dropped to the floor and backpedaled into the shadows. Though she knew her movements to be soundless, Goza’s head turned in her direction. Surely he could not see her?

Goza inhaled deeply. He already knew her scent. It was woodsy and faintly sweet; it was now liberally mixed with fear. He headed in that direction with a determined set to his shoulders.

She used the darkness to her advantage. When Goza was within striking distance she swung her leg out with all of her might and struck him behind the knees. As he toppled to the ground she vaulted over him and dashed towards the entryway. Goza grabbed for her ankle as he rolled to his feet. She would have hit face first had she not angled slightly to bruise her shoulder against the wall instead. Goza wrapped his other hand in her hair, lifting her up the wall. The thin wood elf refused to go down without a fight. Her frail exterior was a facade of the willow in her heritage but she was far from weak. Goza could easily kill her but would not do so. He had already made plans for her, and they included soaking his meat with the sap from between her legs. He would allow her to tire herself out and then take her when she had little energy left, this time. Still, it was somewhat remarkable she was able to fight so fiercely after all she had been through in such a short time.

‘What is your name creature?’

She refused to make a sound, silently seething with disdain. Goza narrowed his eyes and began to use her hair as leverage to lift her from the ground.

She gasped, before leveling him with a hateful stare, ‘Emoladla.’

Now that he knew her name he could find out her origins and use it to her disadvantage...to control her. She had to escape by any means necessary. While he was momentarily distracted, she brought her hands up to dig her nails as deeply into his arm as possible. She hoped Goza might at least loosen his grip, but even as she drew blood he only shoved her body into the stone wall, smashing them hip to hip. Goza's face was inches from hers and he bruised her lips with his own. 'It would seem you have forgotten my statement from earlier,' he mused. She looked to her hands, now streaming with the blood from his arm. He kissed her again, grinding her lips along her teeth. It was meant as punishment, but the pleasure came in spite of them both. Goza tore his lips from hers after a moment and licked them. She could taste the sickly sweet flavor of her own blood, the barbarian was good on his word. The sight of her stained lips excited Goza more. He would have her now. Reaching down, he grasped the waistband of her shortlegs, pulling them from her body. Her legs he forced open and around his hips. Emoladla panicked immediately, desperately beating and pushing at his chest to stop him. Goza would not be swayed. He had both of her hands in one of his before he pressed them hard against the wall above her head. Goza leaned back slightly before shoving his other hand between them. He palmed her flower entirely as his middle finger worked its way into her body. E turned her head and closed her eyes, attempting to disconnect her mind from what was happening. With his thumb he found another part of her, a secret part Emoladla thought only she knew about. Goza rubbed both areas simultaneously. E gasped and opened her eyes.

'It has been several moons since I have had the pleasure of a female. I can make you enjoy it. Do not fight me in this. You will lose. I can feel your untried body.’

Emoladla was filled with equal parts wonder and loathing. How did he know these things? How could she possibly enjoy it? She would do well not to underestimate him.

He continued his sensual assault and Emoladla's chest heaved as he worked her into a heated weakness she couldn't seem to overcome. Her brain struggled to process a plan until she felt him tug her left nipple. Her body bowed towards his hand...when had he released her hands? She was furious at having been mastered so easily but could not seem to work up the strength to bring her hands from the wall. This feeling...was too good. Scenting his impending victory, Goza unclasped the leather belt of his skirts, letting his entire garment fall to the floor. He removed his hand from Emoladla's body and replaced it with his sizable erection.

One of his soldiers chose that untimely moment to dash into his chamber. ‘S-sir!’ He halted and stammered out, desperately trying to unsee What was before him. Goza roared with fury.

‘What!’ He yelled at his hapless doorman.

‘Sir, you are late for evening training. The men have been waiting and thought that...’ he did not finish the obvious yet ludicrous idea.

Goza sighed, ‘Send Ahar to begin the warm-up. I will be out in a moment.’ The guard rushed to do his bidding. Turning back to Emoladla, who had been trying to sneak in the same direction the guard had exited, Goza grabbed her ankle and drug her body across the floor towards him. He dropped to his knees, placing one shin across her belly and the other across her thighs. Her hands were uncomfortably trapped underneath her body and his weight prevented her from doing much aside from breathe. Goza plunged his hand between her thighs once more, this time with purpose, ‘I will give you something while I'm gone.’ With that he stroked and petted her until her body jerked beneath him. The Emoladla called out something in her native tongue before giving a deep, rasping moan. She breathed deeply, listening to his movements but not responding in the least. She opened her eyes to see Goza standing over her, binding up with a loincloth. Her eyes widened seeing the densely packed muscle making up his body. He was covered in scars and strange markings over his chest and shoulders. From her vantage point his man parts boggled her inexperienced mind. She scooted away from him with an odd look on her face. Misinterpreting her expression, Goza frowned deeply before saying, ‘We have unfinished business. I would advise you not to try anything foolish.’ To emphasize his meaning Goza leaned over Emoladla and squeezed her secret spot between her lower lips just hard enough to make her wince. He stood up, belted his skirts and walked out.

Once Emoladla came to terms with what had just transpired, shame washed over her body. She refused to admit she had actually liked this first leg of her debauchery. She could not believe she had given in so easily. He seemed to be able to control her body with little to no effort. She had seen animals rutting in the forest and the fact that he had so easily left the final act incomplete testified to his control over his body as well as hers. She scoffed at the idea of not attempting an escape. Of course she would try to get as far away from this beast as possible. She knew he would take her body. And what if his seed took root? Her mind was made up then. She would take extreme caution to slip out while they were all at combat. Fools, they had unwittingly given her a head start. With less fear than before, Emoladla walked further from the darkened walls, seeking an escape away from the hall with the lava at the end. She was loathe to take the same exit he had, still uneasy that someone may be waiting on the other side. Her hand passed along indentations and different textures to the wall but she ignored all of it, focused on gaining an escape.

Finally she came across a narrow opening with roughly hewn stairs receding upwards into inky blackness. Again she bent to let the ends of her hair trail along the first few stairs; fortunately she felt no signs of life. She raced to find her shortlegs and nearly tripped over something as she picked them up. It looked to be a blade carved from rock. Although she had no idea where it was from (Goza carried little on his person, as if he needed it) she palmed it.

Emoladla slowly felt her way up the stairs, one hand on the stone wall and the other still holding the blade ready just in case. It was a long while before she noticed the spiral corridor was somehow brighter than before, and in the weak light she could now discern the steps with her eyes. She adjusted and took the stairs a little faster, but remained cautious to any sounds or movement in the heavy silence that preceded and flanked her. More and more light began to filter in and Emolalda could now appreciate the glistening of the walls on either side of the stairway. Small crystals naturally formed within the rock of this tight space and upon closer inspection Emoladla noticed the walls were not black at all, but permeated with varying bands of color from which the crystal protruded. She wished she had the time to really inspect the rock, but she had more exigent matters to attend to. The passage was now bright enough that she could walk without aid--but she was now more wary than ever that something may be waiting for her on the other side.

She felt a cold draft. Looking up, she noticed shadows move across the opening the lay mere steps before her. Emoladla flattened herself once more and peered around the curve leading to the mouth of the passage. The shadows passed again but they were...clouds. She spied a ledge wide enough to hold two small, or one very large person; it was more than enough space for her. Bravely stepping onto it, Emoladla was surprised to see how high up she was after being in what she presumed was an underground tunnel.

She instinctively looked below and witnessed the creatures that held her captive in what looked to be a sparring match. Several groups were divided over a massive expanse of dry land with outcroppings of large wind-blasted rocks and hills. Some engaged in hand to hand combat while others practiced with swords, double edged battle axes and smaller clubs wielded in each hand. This was obviously not the direction she would take.

To her right the ledge fell away to reveal small holes carved into the side of the mountain, to her left a winding path led to surprises unknown. She chose her fate quickly and took the path: better to face the danger head on than to fall to her death or worse, into the arms of that Beast. She leveled her body with the rough stone, but soon realized she was heading away from the organized combat towards the Barrens, the closest thing to a forest this land knew. Emoladla felt her spirit cry out at the sight of such a desolate scene. She had heard stories as a child but nothing prepared her to view it first hand. Before she could properly grieve the lifeless wilderness, Emoladla heard the swift approach of something big before she came face to face with the largest white wolf she had ever seen in her life.

The wolf made not a sound, save for its heavy breathing, as it assessed her for weakness. Emoladla held still, having dealt with wild creatures before, but this one seemed different. It was not fully feral or she would have been dead already. Even so, she would not be stopped by this or any other animal as she made her escape. The ground beneath their feet tilted in a downward slope. She fell, and pushed herself off using the momentum to slide between the wolf's legs and down the hill. Her bottom heated from the rapid acceleration, but she slowed to a stop a few feet before the edge of the trees. The wolf was almost to her ankles before she could take more than a few steps. She had healed enough to regain most of her speed, but the wolf knew the layout of this particular forest. She ran, twisting and turning, attempting to lose it. She looked to her left and the wolf was already abreast of her. It dipped its head low and collided with her legs. Emoladla stumbled before hitting the packed earth hard. She tried to regain her footing and felt a massive paw on her back, nearly immobilizing her. Seconds passed, the wind waved the barren tree branches carrying the scent of char and sweat. She was loathe to kill it, but her freedom was at stake. Unexpectedly the wolf removed its paw, allowing Emoladla to roll over. She looked up but it's teeth were menacingly close to her face. This was it. She slashed at its neck with the crude knife in her hand. It leaned out of the way and she crawled backwards, making room to stand. They stared each other down, keen understanding flickering in the wolf's eyes. She backed up further, into something. That smell. Realization dawned and Emoladla didn't have to look behind her to know what she had backed into. She found herself in her second chokehold of the day, Goza's massive forearm and bicep stilling her quickly. He whispered something to the wolf who bent its head in deference. It turned towards the line of the trees without another glance, disappearing into the barren woods, a stark white shadow weaving among the murky depths.

This would probably be her last chance. She was already outside, and if she could just escape from him she knew she could easily outrun him, in the opposite direction of the wolf of course. She quickly raised her knife to wound or disembowel her captor, which ever came first. Goza saw the glint of his first knife, how had she gotten it? clutched in the feisty creature’s hands and grabbed them, crushing them in an iron grip until she dropped it to the ground. 'Enough!' he yelled.

Goza used Emoladla’s arms as leverage and all but threw her against the nearest tree. Emoladla panted with the effort to fight him off without being able to use her arms, but before she could call him a brute for the unfair fight, he released her. He caught the hem of her tunic and pulled off her shortlegs by the seam of the crotch. The motion brought her ankles to the top of his shoulder. Goza relished in her struggle, licking the sweat from her neck as he smashed his body and hers to the tree. Her bottom was now exposed to the air and her nether flower rubbed the hardened muscles of his abdomen.

The friction proved to be her undoing. In spite of her mental will, Emoladla’s body began to prepare for what it instinctively knew lay ahead. Undoubtedly, he could feel the moisture by now, Emoladla refused to look at his face and witness his triumph. Goza swiped a thumb at her center, holding her gaze as he slipped it into his mouth, 'I will savor this feast later' he said to her. He pulled her legs further over his shoulder, supporting her with his own. He dropped his loincloth and rubbed his pale erection along her earthy folds. The contrast in the tones of their skin heightened the experience; he found her opening and forced his way in. Goza leaned back and allowed Emoladla's weight to aid his penetration. He held on to her hips firmly, aware that he could not be too rough, but he refused to be swayed by her grimace of pain. Goza slowly worked his way in until he was fully sheathed, his shallow strokes had her narrow space timidly accepting him. Heat crept up his spine, her tightness was more than he expected. Goza struggled to give her time to adjust, his body all but ordering him to move.

Finally the rigid closure receded and her smooth muscles pulled at him in a come hither fashion he could no longer ignore. Goza gave her body what it was asking for, whether her mind agreed or not. He powerfully picked up the pace after several long strokes, increased pleasure fizzling his nerves. He allowed her legs to drop from his shoulder to the curves of his elbows, going even deeper. From this angle he could massage her bud and Emoladla began to quiver. This, coupled with the rubbing of his chest and her hardened nipples slung her into a sensory overload. Her toes curled with sheer enjoyment, although looking back she still would have tried to fight, even at this moment, had she fully been in control. Her body took over. Emoladla held on to the tree, the only solid thing in her world as her entire torso seemed to coil and release in a giant spasm.  

Goza powered into her harshly, the rhythmic contractions signalling a breaking point. His head flew back, the tendons of his neck straining with the force of his orgasm. He clenched his jaw and growled low as the thrust one last time...and again. Emoladla, caught in the maelstrom of his passion felt her frame quiver helplessly as she came anon. She could feel her wits get fuzzy as she struggled to process what was happening to her for the third time that day, and at the hands of this foul beast no less. The aftershocks continued to course through her.

Sluggish moments escaped while Emoladla unfortunately did not...could not. She could feel his breath near her ear, ruffling her hair. She would have pushed him away had she the energy. These feelings, she was not prepared for anything like this and could not recover quickly, her mind wished to work as the fleshly amount of her relaxed more and more. Goza on the other hand was unfamiliar with this lack of struggle and took advantage. He picked Emoladla up with sickening ease and laid his loincloth along with her clothes over her unclad form. He was wholly unconcerned that anyone would say anything as he walked back to his mountain. By the time he climbed the stairs to the opening of the cave the sun had dropped below the line of the trees, but he knew his way and did not need the light. He reached his chambers, the fire pit having smoldered to embers. He laid Emoladla on his massive pile of furs, surprised to see she slept. His knife was set in its rightful place, her clothes and his loincloth discarded to the corner where another lay. Goza retrieved several thick logs and stoked the fire for the night. The flames licked up an illuminated her face, unblemished and not scowling for the first time. Goza looked at her for a while and wondered how she would try to escape or kill him tomorrow. He climbed in and tucked her body into his. He would have a bath called for her when she woke, but for now he enjoyed the silence and the feel of her without the skirmish that always seemed to come with it. Her skin was soft and nearly glowed in the firelight. Goza could already feel himself begin to stir partially. Perhaps he would have her again in the night. Maybe flip her and press in from behind...he drifted off to sleep for the night, his mind swirling with lusty thoughts.

Emoladla awoke with a start, plagued with memories from the night before she knew were not dreams. Goza had touched every inch of her body and she did nothing to stop him. She found herself shivering amid the furs, awash with new awareness and shame. How could she have been so open and accepting? If she closed her eyes at this very moment she could feel his hard, calloused fingers running broad strokes up her back and over her shoulder, memorizing her with his hands. She shook again, putting it from her mind.

She was too deep underground to decipher what time it was, but decided to gather herself and do more exploring. She resolved to make him think she would no longer try and escape, at least until she figured out the maze of caves well enough to properly hide and disappear when he least expected it. Emoladla struggled to free herself from the tangle of furs wrapping her legs and ankles. She was nude, but had no problem as he was not around. The fire was stoked high, its flames leaping several feet into the air. Emoladla took in her surroundings. She tried to figure out which places she had stumbled onto in respect to where she was then and what she saw now. The rough patches that transitioned into smooth arched in relatively symmetrical rows to the ceiling. The dancing flames of the small bonfire below gave the impressioned beams the illusion of movement. This area, the sleep area, had a series of enclaves. Each held various objects ranging from extra furs to grisly trophies that made Emoladla's stomach churn.

In her haste to escape, she had not noticed the  branching nature of the cave spaces beforehand. Emoladla shook her head in dismay...it may take a full moon or more to fully navigate these, she thought to herself. Following the architecture, she was guided out of the bedchamber and down a hall where the crude beams glistened with a crystalline undertone. This must have been what she felt on her way to the winding staircase, but she did not remember the passage being this wide. She walked on, taking into account several lesser archways leading away from the main corridor. Emoladla fell further into despair. She would need a better plan. About a stone’s throw from her present locus she saw a flat round stone that clearly blocked the end of the hallway. Even from this distance she knew she would not budge it...but when she got there she tried anyway. She propped her feet against the wall and her back against the stone. She threw her weight and considerable leg strength in the first shove, and slid to the ground. The next attempt involved her wedging her body between the two spaces and trying to straighten her legs, she did not succeed an inch.

That's where the guard found her, sweating and swearing from exertion. He had the tact not to raise his eyebrows, but his surprise was definite. Though not one of the original captors, the distance he maintained told her that the news of her fighting skills spread fast. ‘You are to report to the bathing chambers,’ he told her, hoping she would go quietly. Emoladla could feel his fear but chose not to prey upon it, yet. A guide through these tunnels would speed the escape process many fold. He waited until she was next to him before turning sharply and making his way towards what she assumed were the bathing chambers. She easily matched his pace, but even at nearly 6 reeds she nowhere near approached his height. Casting a sidelong glance his way, she gauged the wisdom of trying to strike up a conversation. She decided against it however when she saw his wary expression and rapidly firming grip on the hilt of his staff. She would wait.

Emoladla paid close attention to the route they took. From the main bed chamber the catacomb of rooms all seemed to be connected, at least in this portion. She noticed the arches were a continued theme, varying from rows in the halls to peaked points in the rounded chambers. They were heading further into the heart of the mountain. The light decreased as the torches were fewer but the temperature increased. The narrow space veered to the right and suddenly opened out. It was more of a wide hallway than an actual room. The still pool ahead of her steamed gently; her eyes followed its course from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. The length of the space was flanked by more of the same arches she had seen in Goza’s sleep chamber. Doorways were hollowed out between the arches and provided small amounts of privacy when walking by. Emoladla was curious about the heat that radiated from the smooth stone beneath her feet but thought better of asking--her chaperone was still as uneasy as he had been at the beginning of their impromptu tour. She walked to the nearest column and placed her hand against the rock which was hot to the touch, but not unbearably so. He spoke, ‘The liquid rock runs over this chamber, it heats the water and the stone.’ He turned towards one of the enclaves. ‘If you pour water on the stone at the mouth of the entrance, here’ he demonstrated with an empty pot in hand, ‘the steam creates a screen to bath in private.’ He placed the bowl in her hand. I will return to bring you drying clothes. He again turned on his heel and left. Alone, Emoladla looked about to find some form of scrub or paste with which to cleanse her body. She had none of the scented supplies she surrounded herself with at home. She wandered over to the pool, but would have no idea how deep it was until she submerged herself. These men had no idea about oils for the skin or hair and seemed to solely use sand to clean themselves. She once again felt a forlorn sense of homesickness for she had no idea if the stripped wasteland surrounding  the mountain would even have the flowers and herbs she had grown accustomed to. To leave now would not only mean going back to life as she knew it, but maintaining her sanity. Emoladla followed instructions and soon had a nice wall of steam separating her from the outside world. She stripped down, and dunked a toe into the deep. It was hot, but perfect to soothe any leftover ache from the night before. She walked in and sat on the shallow side of the pool, far from her steam screen. There were pockets of sand bubbling near the edge and she used several handfuls to buff her body and rinse her hair. It would have to do for now. The pool was deeper than it looked, her legs dangled into the heated depths as she stretched her arms and back. The force of the water seeping up through the fissure in the Earth swirled round Emoladla, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

Goza's body felt used, in a good way, after the passing eve and a grueling sun in battle training with the new soldiers. Many showed promise, but a few would have to be sent home. He tolerated no weakness in himself or any others and refused to sacrifice ill-prepared pups to slaughter. He decided to bathe before he returned to his chambers; he would need to be limber in case the sprite met him with one of his own weapons. Goza walked down to the pools, his mind not focused on battle and war for the first time in moons. He bathed in the main pool at the center of the chamber, sluicing water and sand over his pale, thickly muscled skin. He scrubbed like he did everything else, thoroughly, efficiently. He walked further into the gently bubbling bath, submerging himself completely in the depths. Goza resurfaced, allowing the water to drip from his face, his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen, as he walked from the pool and propped against the wall. The internal fire of the liguid rock evaporated the water from his body, giving the impression that he himself were steaming. As he rotated to the other side of the pillar something caught his eye. Emoladla was facing him, but her head was at an odd angle. When she did not respond as he neared her Goza realized she was asleep. He walked into the smaller space, still she did not rouse. He sat on a stone outcrop at the far end  of the pool next to her clothes and a drying cloth. He unwrapped his arm bandage as he stared at her. Her hair was piled atop her head and Goza could see faint markings along the sides and back of her neck. Just as he was about to look closer however, Emoladla's eyes opened and Goza witnessed her expression develop from drowsiness, to confusion, to discomfort underlined with malice and finally resignation. She spoke first, ‘I knew I would not be free of you for long.’ Goza shrugged, ‘The entire mountain belongs to me. You cannot escape no matter where you are.’ A brief note of fear danced across Emoladla's face before she firmly schooled it, ‘I have nowhere to go at the moment and no reason to leave.’

Goza was nonplussed. Of all the answers he had anticipated, this was far, very far, down the list. Although he was not dumb enough to believe her ploy, he would go along with it for now and see what she did for the next few suns. To her he said, ‘Come. Surely you have not eaten this day.’ Goza realized her drying cloth was near him; he gazed at her, seemingly ignorant of this very obvious fact. Emoladla was far too stubborn to ask him to bring it to her and doubted he would even if she did. She decided to give the beast the show he wanted, but she would fight as much as necessary to prevent a repeat of yesterday. When she lifted her body from the pool Emoladla was pleasantly surprised to find she was not cold after all. She would walk boldly to her cloth and make it seem almost an afterthought. But the closer she got to him, the more intimidated she became. She had no power here, no authority. He could have her at this very moment if he wished and they both knew it. Emoladla had never felt more at a loss in her life. She should not have looked at him. He eyed her in such a way that she already felt possessed, taken, his gaze like a caress on her exposed form.

He reached over and lazily picked up her cloth, all but daring her to take it from him like she had promised herself only moments ago. Goza made a great show of opening it out, the muscles of his arms playing obscenely beneath the damp finish of his powdery skin. Emoladla willed her feet to continue their slow progression; she was determined to see this through, she would show him. As she came closer, and closer still, Goza brought the cloth almost into himself, forcing her to walk between his spread knees. His massive frame was eye level with her chest and he looked to her face. Dipping low, he ran his hands up and down her legs, slowly, with only the thin cloth separating skin from skin. Emoladla attempted to maintain her look of disdain as her body nearly caught fire. He reached all the way up to the juncture of her thighs before he adjusted the cloth in his hands and began to massage the remaining moisture from her arms...her back. He pressed his face between her breasts and ran his tongue from her sternum to her nipple, laving it with the tip. Her body betrayed her as seemed to be its new habit, readying itself for him in a slow rush. From their proximity, Goza’s nostrils flared almost immediately before he roughly palmed her hips and pulled her further into him. He bent his head and bit into her side just below her ribs, the pressure from his sharpened teeth bruising her skin, but not breaking it--yet. Emoladla sank her fingers into the heavy muscles of his neck and back. She bit her own lip, refusing to betray any sign that she was enjoying a moment of this. He would use her body for his own pleasure and cast her aside. Emoladla knew these things to be untrue almost as soon as they came to mind, but rational thought had no place here, in this moment she had to survive. Goza transferred the cloth to one hand, “drying” her back with it as the other moved to her nether cheeks. Emoladla tensed, but as she did, Goza exerted slightly more pressure in his bite, thus holding her still for his debauchery.  His large hand gripped a handful of her behind. His fingers shifted as he manipulated her bud, the sensation from this angle so much different from yesterday. He felt her moisture and used it to ply her channel before his fingers moved into the recesses of her body. Goza dropped the cloth and rolled her small berry nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling in a way that had Emoladla’s body undulating against his fingers. She could not get away unless she wanted to tear a chunk of flesh from her body. She was ever reminded of her incapacity as he worked her towards a strong peak that she could try, and fail, to fight off. She began to feel that familiar pulling and as her body clenched down on his two fingers Emoladla gave up the struggle to remain silent and panted a few times before her loud moans sounded in the cavity, absorbed, but not muted by the gently swirling water. Goza gave her nipple one last tug and placed his hand back on her waist, anchoring her to the spot. He finally released her side, the blood rushing to the site, discoloring it. He mused on the way his teeth left an imprint on her skin as he placed his fingers, still wet from her body, into his mouth.

He stood to his full height, once again dwarfing Emoladla with his full seven reed frame. He wound the spare cloth around his hips, not bothering to hide his imposing erection. Goza looked into Emoladla’s eyes and said, ‘I will bide my time until your body is ready to receive me again as you are yet sore.’ He retrieved the cloth and briskly bundled her into it.  ‘Come, the food is prepared.’

1 chain is about 22 yards (a little over )

Goza stared at the top of Emoladla’s head while she ate, willing her to look at him. His first thought was to congratulate himself on taming her spirit, but he was not yet convinced of her docility. The past eve she had been too quiet. Since their interlude in the bathing cavern, she fell into step too easily on the way back each moon. He saw little of her during the day and she was too agreeable to eat the food set in front of her and not at all forthcoming in expression or demeanor when asked how she spent her time. He stayed away as much as he dared; he did not trust himself not to take her, and she slept when he came to the chambers in the eve as well as when he rose and left before the dawn. Even still, three full suns had passed since he had sated himself on her body, three days too long. He would take his fill this night. The smooth expanse of skin from her shoulders nearly to the tops of her breasts had captured his eye since he arrived at his private quarters with guards in tow, laden with food. She had quite the appetite he viewed with spare amusement (none of which showed on his face), and after the first eve where he witnessed her refusal of meat, she was supplied with more fruit and roughage than even her hearty stomach could contain. He sat back and unabashedly watched her eat. Melons, heads of green, handfuls of berries, she would do a warrior proud at feast.  

He had not rushed through his meal yet she still lingered over hers, in hopes of delaying what was to come he thought with a sneer. Not that it would matter. Goza had all the time he wished to have. He detailed her body with greed. Her hair had been gathered into a knot at her crown, baring her neck to his gaze. It was then he noticed faint green and black markings on the side, moving towards her nape. He had not seen these before and leaned forward to get a closer look. Emoladla finished her meal abruptly and looked up. Slowly, deliberately, Goza stood and moved towards her. Emoladla stood as well, instinctively looking for a way out. She backed away from the table. She tripped on the fur she had wrapped around her and snatched it up quickly lest she fall. Goza was corralling her to the sleep chamber, to his bed. As her ankles hit the furs piled against the wall, Emoladla moved in a flurry. Goza barely had time to raise his arm in defense before he felt his knees give way as he hit the ground. Pain exploded across his brain nearly blinding him. He growled in muted anger, watching through a slitted eye as she backed away before dashing from the chamber.  

***

Goza was enraged. She had aimed to severely maim if not kill him. She would have succeeded had he not slightly deflected the blow with his shoulder. The idea that he had nearly been bested by such a wispy creature infuriated him the most. The lingering ache in his head and back with every step was a full reminder that she was nowhere near tempered. Inspite of himself he could feel his body harden. Never had a female given him this much trouble and been so close to doing him permanent bodily harm. Goza almost wanted to give her a sword and see how far she would get in battle, but thought better of it in the likely event that she would turn the weapon against him. Goza dropped his loincloth and kicked it to the corner of the chamber. He fisted his meaty girth as he began to walk towards the main passage leading to the network of halls. He detected the spicy scent of fear and lingering arousal. It was not a question of if he would find her, but when. And when he did, he would not hold back. 

Emoladla ran as fast as she dared towards the back exit she’d found the previous day. She knew she should have waited at least another sennight before she executed her escape plan, but she could see in his eyes that her time had run out and she could not bare to lose herself in the net he so easily wove around her body and mind. Now that he knew her body she was even weaker than before. She put up almost no resistance. It sickened her to think she enjoyed the primal urges he roused deep within her. She refused to admit the fact that she wished he had taken her forcibly. She would not think it, even to herself. But alas, she already had. So when he coaxed her from the hewn stone table to the sleep chamber, she put her plan into motion. A trophy poised among many along the wall proved to be one of the few items she could lift and wield as a weapon. It had weight and sharp edges to do the most damage. The action was simple. Grab the instrument while he slept and either crush his windpipe or skull, whichever came first. So as he came towards her, Emoladla latched onto what she thought was the statuette. In her haste she grabbed a rock, round and lacking in outer splendor, which was surprisingly light for its size. She proceeded to bash him over the head when he joined her on the pile of furs. The sphere cracked and split in half revealing a beautiful center of crystals, some of which sprinkled across Goza’s back and shoulders as he went down, momentarily stunned. But he was not dead. Emoladla knew she had seconds before he recovered and moved to her intended weapon but he growled and began to turn over. She eyed her botched handiwork in dismay and chose to flee rather than fight; she had a much better chance in the latter. She turned down what she desperately hoped were the right ways to get out, but as she felt the familiar heat from the center of the mountain she knew she had gone wrong somewhere. She doubled back, but this was an even worse idea. She cut down an even darker path than the one from whence she'd come, now well and truly lost. There were no torches in this passage but she dared not ilume for he would see her immediately. She could distantly hear the sound of rushing water and dropped to her hands and knees. The water would project her senses and hopefully she would be able to tell how close he was. She drug the tendrils of her hair along the floor of the passage and almost gasped. He was no more than a chain away and closing in fast. Emoladla was loathe to fight him in the dark, but hoped it would be to her advantage. Maybe she could even slip past him while he was unaware. She stood quickly and tried to shrink into the wall, turning her head in the direction of his ever nearing footfalls. The sound of her heartbeat was deafening, unscathed by her deep, slow breaths. He had reached the mouth of the tunnel where Emoladla was hiding and she all but held her breath completely. She knew that he knew she was there. He knew that she knew her time was up. 

She stepped away from the wall. She would give him a blast of her ilume since he already had a head injury and Emoladla hoped the shock would knock him out. Goza felt her movement and swung in a backward arc, hitting Emoladla square in the chest with the flat of his forearm. The force of the blow sent her crashing into the rock behind her, loosening her wrap which slid to the floor before she did. Goza reached down and fastened his hand on the first part of her body he could before she scrambled away in the darkness. Emoladla felt herself being hoisted up by his hand wrapped around the lower half of her face. She screamed indignantly, though it was muffled to little more than a grunt. He brought their faces together, his voice menacing over the low rush of water in the distance, 'It seems you would rather have the beast in me,' Emoladla kneed him in the stomach and he grunted but didn't release his hold. Goza flipped her around and murmured into her ear, 'I would have you see how it may have been did you choose wisely.’

 Goza used the weight of his body alone to hold Emoladla to the wall. His rough, scar-riddled chest pressed against her smooth back and shoulders as he breathed in the scent of her body. He moved even closer. From this position the bottom half of his erection wedged between the upper crests of her bottom. The head of him leaked hot fluid onto her lower back. Goza thrust himself against her a few times to show his dominance and give her a prelude to what lay ahead. Emoladla's cheek scraped against the rough grit of the rock beneath it, her nipples responded to the chill of the stone contrasting with the heat of Goza's hard body. With his wrists bracketing her ribcage, he thumbed her nipples, smiling as he caught the barely audible catch in her breathing. She lacked the experience to resist him and the thought had him looking forward to all the ways he could test her body. For now, his patience had been sorely tried and the dull ache in the back of his head a constant reminder to keep his anger fresh.

He used one hand to lower the head of his erection between her cheeks. She knew what was coming and kept still as a last show of defiance. He stretched her, slowly, and Emoladla winced against the lingering soreness even as her body greedily welcomed the fullness. About halfway in, Goza angled his hips slightly and began to thrust into her using short strokes that drove him deeper with every movement. He grabbed one leg and held it out. Emoladla gasped and arched her back. His strokes lengthened as he seated himself firmly inside of her. Goza slowed down more, savoring her as much as teaching her an exercise in restraint and passion. Emoladla could no longer control herself and rocked her hips to try and speed him up. He gripped her leg tighter in warning and resumed his slackened pace, biting her neck, crowding her body. What came next took Emoladla completely off guard. Goza paused briefly to grab her other leg, lifting her off the ground entirely. He moved faster and deeper at this angle, the fresh sensations nearly making her dizzy with pleasure. 

Goza gripped the outsides of her thighs as he tunneled into her from behind. Suspended, Emoladla held onto the wall for dear life, unable to stop her sounds as she was thoroughly ravaged. Spread open as she was, her channel leaked and the fluid dribbled down her thighs, mixing with her sweat. The combined scent was nearly Goza's undoing. He bared his teeth and drove into her, the slapping of their bodies obscenely loud in the cavern. 

Goza stood at the Perch allowing the stiff wind to cleanse his mind and dry his yet damp body. Once he had spent himself inside of her he let her body fall to the ground, refusing to give into the sentiment that he should care for her once he had slaked his lust. He had intended for his possession to be a punishment but Goza knew she enjoyed his rough treatment of her, whether she would willingly admit it or not. He submerged himself in the bathing pool before calling his guards to bring Emoladla as well. He left once he was clean, trusting his men would bring her to his quarters where she would be pliant for enough time that he could stay one step ahead. In spite of himself he continued to think of her body, the feel of her skin, inside and out. She glowed. Goza would not allow himself to fall victim to her spells. It seemed he could only master her in their mating and he would do well to keep her exhausted. She had succeeded in catching him off guard within a week and though he knew he had the upper hand for now, how long would it last?