The stranger received some bad news from his new companion.

Chaos Factor: 7
Expected Scene: After riding through the night, the stranger explains himself to Bethtali
Test Expected Scene: 1d10=6 - Interrupt Scene!

--What is this new scene?
Fate Roll: Random Event Focus Table
1d100=59 - Move Away from a Thread. Well, there's only one Thread so far...

They rode through the night, though after the first mile or so the stranger slowed his horse to a walk. He seemed not to be following any trail - he urged his horse this way and that, sometimes doubling back over their path and frequently riding down into narrow defiles that Bethtali would never have dared on foot. But his horse was sure-footed and steady, and by the time dawn broke gray and pale over the low hills, they were leagues from her encampment. There was no sign of pursuit as they rode down a long valley between two lines of hills, the only sound besides the horse's hooves the twitter of birds awaking and seeking out their meals. The horse walked at a steady pace, the stranger's one hand firm on the reins, the other wrapped around Bethtali's waist.

Bethtali ached. Unused to riding, she felt bruised and battered by their flight from the camp, and her thighs were sore from being in the saddle all night. Her wrists rubbed against the rope he'd bound her with, and something about the saddle was...rubbing...in a way that inspired an entirely different sort of ache, one that she hoped he wouldn't notice. As the sun rose fully, she felt him stir slightly behind her.

"I suppose I ought to unbind you," he said with a chuckle. "Do not try anything foolish, eh?" Bethtali shook her head mutely, and she felt his hand pluck at the ropes around her wrist. As the ropes fell away she brought her arms in front of her, rubbing her sore wrists as feeling returned to them. "What did you say your name was again, little lamb?"

"B-Bethtali, lord," she whispered. He snorted.

"Huh. I am no fancy southern lord. I am Ruven, called Skull Taker, of the Dranorrin. Call me by my name, little lamb."

"Yes...Ruven," she murmured. They walked on in silence. Some while later, she began silently to weep.

"Why are you weeping?" Ruven growled. "You are alive, when you would likely not be. You should rejoice!"

"But I have lost my home," she whispered. "I have lost my family. I will die out in the wild world, alone and unloved. And likely soon." She shivered.

He snorted dismissively. "A family that would kill you for shame deserves to be lost. Family can be rebuilt. Love and companionship can be had anywhere, if you are not too choosy. As for dying, if you would do that, you may as well get it over with and leave me and Nightwind with less to carry." She shuddered. "But if you stay with me, you will not die. I have a long and full life to live, yet. I intend to hold the Jewel of Karkosin, one day soon."

She twisted in the saddle to stare at him, too surprised to be afraid. "You...seek the Jewel of Karkosin?"

"Aye." He smirked down at her, his blue eyes glinting, predatory. "You know of it."

"They s-say that it...that it is a priceless gem, one that purifies the soul of him who touches it."

He laughed. "That is one legend. I have heard others."

"But...what are you doing here, then?" she asked, baffled. "Karkosin is many leagues hence!"

She felt him still behind her, and for a moment feared that she had angered him. But when he spoke, it was in a voice laden only with concerned curiosity. "Is it?"

"Aye...I mean, so I have heard," she said tentatively.

"Hrm." He frowned, sitting back in the saddle. "Do you know where Karkosin lies?"

"I...no, not precisely," she admitted. "Our stories say it is a distant land...a place where the water is as wide as the grasslands, yet no sheep or men can drink of it. A city built of gold and gems, the Jewel of Karkosin the brightest of them all."

"Our stories were more vague," he muttered, sounding troubled. "The magic city of Karkosin, with its mighty jewel...I had not heard these tales. A vast undrinkable lake? Strange...it seems that I am far from where I wish to be. Though I had not expected to find it soon, I...have heard of nothing like that."

For some time, they rode in silence. She could feel him brooding behind her. "...I am sorry," she offered timidly.

He chuckled. "Do not be. The greater the journey is, the greater the glory." It sounded like a maxim, and he offered nothing more as they rode on.

As the sun climbed the sky, the day grew warm, and Bethtali found herself increasingly bothered. The strain on her legs from riding was one thing, but the way the saddle rubbed - that was something entirely else. Eventually, she **** herself to ask: "My lo - Ruven, might we stop to rest?"

"What for?"

"I - " she flushed, swallowed, tried again. "I am...unused to riding. I need to stretch my...my legs."

"Oh," he said as though a sudden, amusing realization had struck him. "I forgot about the bitch-warmer."

"Th-The what?!"

"It is the front part of a raider's saddle. For times when we have taken enemy women in combat, though some Dranorrin women enjoy the occasional ride with their man as well." With his free hand he pressed on her lower stomach, pushing her back on the saddle slightly, and she gasped as her lower lips dragged across a rough series of ridges and bumps, sending tingles of pleasure through her core. "It keeps a riding woman wet and ready, most times. Reminds them of their place, for a captive. A useful tool."

"I - I cannot - this is - " Bethtali swallowed, blushing furiously. "It is wrong! Please, let me down - let me walk - "

"Wrong? What is so wrong about it?" Bethtali gasped as he raised a hand to her breast and idly toyed with her already stiff nipple, flicking it and sending a spike of heat through her. "Your body was made for pleasure, little lamb. Mine and yours...so why not enjoy the ride, eh?"

"I - no, I - a woman's body is for bearing young - " Bethtali whimpered.

He snorted. "Bizarre obsession your people have. There is much more a woman is good for."

"Please let us stop," she whimpered. "I - I do not know what to do with this feeling!"

"Enjoy it, if you can," he said lazily. "Endure it, if you can't. We stop when I say we do."

His firm hand on her thigh brooked no argument. Bethtali whimpered, clutched the pommel of the saddle, and did her best to endure.

By the time the sun was nearing its zenith, she was nearly mad with distraction. It was like a fly buzzing around her body, keeping her up at night, a constant, low-level arousal that would not let her rest. She felt herself shamefully wet and feared that when he took her off the saddle there would be a slick spot on the leather - but he must know that. Indeed, she suspected he enjoyed her discomfort. Pressed against him as her naked body was, she could feel the prodding of a hot, firm rod against her buttocks, rubbing through his loincloth.

They did not stop until he spied a small pond fed by a spring partway up the slope. He rode under the shade of a tree, dismounted, and pulled her down after him. She tried not to hear the squelching sound as he moved her. "Th-Thank you, Ruven, I - ah!"

She gasped as he, smiling with a hint of cruelty, ran his rough hands up her sides and over her trembling, sensitive breasts. "I would relieve my tension. On your knees."

"Oh, m-must I?"

His face darkened, and he seemed suddenly to loom over her. "Would you refuse me? Declare yourself my better?"

"N-No!" she gasped. "No - no - I just - would you n-not mount me, lord? It...it is...unseemly...to spend yourself in my mouth...a waste of your sacred seed..."

He let out a rough guffaw. "There is nothing sacred about what I do now, except that it is as the gods will that the strong should rule the meek. My seed is no more sacred than that tree or rock. No, I'll not mount you - yet. I'll take my pleasure from my mouth, which cannot get with child. Besides, you have much to learn about pleasuring a man, and I would have you learn it." His hand on her shoulder was unyielding, and she, trembling, sank to her knees before him. A part of her feared what was about to happen, but another part - ruled by her throbbing, empty cunt - still hoped that she could change his mind.

By daylight his cock seemed less wondrous, though no less large. As before, she began with what she knew - to bring him to hardness, to ready him for mounting. But then, as before, he declined her timid suggestion that she turn for him. Once more he pulled her mouth down onto his shaft, clearly reveling in the wetness of her mouth and her feeble struggles to accommodate his size. She did her uncertain best to suckle him in earnest, but after several attempts he growled, "Enough. I will take my pleasure now," and held her head to fuck her throat himself. She knelt there, open-mouthed, tears streaming down her face as she gazed up at him and waited for him to finish. As she gagged and sputtered lewdly she felt abject, a naked body on a hillside made for nothing but ravaging. But she could not deny the hardness of her nipples or the wet heat that filled her cunt as he abused her throat. If only he would turn me about and mount me like he should... Even as she choked on him she felt a drip of nectar down her thighs.

When he was near his climax he groaned, pulling out of her mouth to leave her gasping for air. Before she could move, though, he seized her hair, pulling her head back as he stroked himself feverishly with his other hand.

"Look at me," he commanded, and she obeyed, eyes wide, face wet, chest heaving. He groaned as he stroked his full, trembling, slick shaft, and finally let out a growl as he came. His penis jerked and jets of white, warm spunk flew through the air, landing on her face, neck, chest, hair. She flinched slightly as the heavy liquid landed on her, wave after wave of it covering her body, until it was done, his penis drooping and her body covered in sticky, dripping mess.

"There we go," he said with an easy smirk. "Among my people, were you a captive woman you'd be bonded to me now, until the next new moon or some man bested me. And all who'd seen you covered so would know that you were wanted."

Bethtali felt a flush of heat at the notion - of people seeing her like this, covered in Ruven's seed. "Th-Thank you, lord," she ventured.

He chuckled. "Don't thank me. Go on, wash off in that pond there. You've got two layers of spunk on you now, and we've a ride to go, it seems. I'm going to piss before we leave."

She nodded and got unsteadily to her feet, venturing to the pond. It proved to be quite shallow, with a cool, rocky bottom, and she waded in up to her waist. She glimpsed her reflection in its surface and blanched; she'd never seen herself like this before. Her face and eyes were red, her breasts flushed and trembling, and her whole torso was dripping with a mixture of his seed and her saliva. How humiliating...how wrong, to wash this all away. She dashed the image away with her hands as she scooped up the cool water and poured it over herself, trying to sluice off the evidence of her insufficiency. She did it again and again, gasping as the water chilled her and quenched the fire between her legs. As she scrubbed at her wet face and breasts, cleaning off his leavings, she was aware by a prickling on her neck of Ruven, watching her from beneath the tree. Finally, when she was sure she was clean, she looked down at herself again. Now she looked like her: nude but for earrings, bangle, and beads, yes, but her. She took a deep breath and turned back toward the Dranorrin.

"Come on, mount up," he said simply. "We'd best be riding on."

Chaos Factor -1: 6 (I don't count the sex stuff toward CF, so really all that happened here was he found out he's not close to his goal)
Added to Threads List: Seize the Jewel of Karkosin
Added to Characters List: Bethtali of the Rams