The beast’s lair was a full three days of travel from her city, but the journey was pleasant enough. They rode on open carts softened with hay-stuffed woolen pillows, and the late summer heat was mitigated by a soft breeze that swept up from the sea, sowing their hair and clothes with the scents of salt and the warmth of the olive groves that lined the hills below the road.
The road cut an uneven path along the high ridges of the rugged countryside and from this height Caliope could see a thin line of pale bluish green shining out in the hazy distance framed only by the pale sky and the heavy green of the rolling hills.
The girl sitting across from her started crying again and was rewarded with a weepy hug from a similarly swollen and red-eyed girl. She looked away, back to the rolling hills and shifted uncomfortably.
Calliope had joined the group two days ago, and they’d done nothing else but weep since she’d been there.
There were two carts rocking gently along the road, both could hold ten passengers, and very nearly did. A small guard accompanied them on foot, led by a stiff necked captain who rode ahead on horseback. They weren’t there to protect the cargo of women so much as prevent them from escaping.
She grimaced. She’d been trying to distract herself with the blue sky and scented breeze, but the grim soldiers and the incessant sobbing kept pulling her back to the present dilemma. Well perhaps not a dilemma, so much as a terrible and hopeless situation. She’d volunteered to be part of the tribute, to save her family the loss of her more promising sister, who, even at 19, already had numerous proposals. There were tributes every five years, sometimes gold, sometimes livestock, and every town gave their part. This year the creature had demanded young women.
She repressed a shudder. Most of these girls hadn’t volunteered, they were the youngest marriagable daughters in their households, all from prominent families with more than three daughters from different towns. The councils of each city had decided that this was the fairest way to choose the women. It would have been too much to bare to make the parents, mothers and fathers, choose among their own beloved children, and there would be a riot if they asked such a price of the poorer citizens, who already suffered enough.
She raked her gaze silently over them for the hundredth time in the last two days. Two or three sat more or less stoically, already resigned, as she was, to their fate. One near her prayed softly to Artemis to protect her. No one spoke much.
Another breeze swept over them carrying the Mediterranean on its wings, as if the south wind himself was lending them what little comfort he could. Her stomach began to cramp into a small knot and she gave in a little to her fear, praying along silently with the pleading whispers next to her. The young woman next to her was begging protection from the maiden goddess Artemis. Caliope prayed to Athena. Not for protection, but for wisdom and for courage. For strength.
None of them knew their fate. She assumed death, it made it easier to deal with. Though some might disagree, she felt it was truly the worst fate. If she expected death and got something else, well then she was ahead wasn’t she? She was not too proud to save her life though slavery or servitude.
She sighed out loud and turned away from the swollen eyes and watched a young shepherd guide his flock over the rocks of a nearby hill. He paused to watch them, squirming lamb under one arm. She lifted a hand, and he smiled, lifting his free hand in response. Suddenly she felt calmer, more centered. It would be okay, everyone would be okay.
For her family it would be as though she were married to a man who lived in a distant land. They would suffer no great loss. She thought of her sister’s tear streaked face as she left with the soldiers and touched the silver serpentine bracelet on her arm that she had been made to take with her. Her sister’s bracelet.
She fought the sorrow that welled up in her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her bare skin.
In the distance the thin blue line had widened to an ever growing expanse. They were nearly there. They paused at one more town, the last one, and witnessed their final heartbreaking scene of a family forced to part with their child. The girl was lifted gently by guilty looking guards onto the second cart. She was beautiful, despite her reddened eyes, and she waved tearfully. Only her father waved back, her mother and sisters having already collapsed in grief and mourning into the dust. Calliope watched the man as the cart rolled forward, standing like a statue, frozen with cold misery, one hand raised, his family in a heap at his feet. She pushed her own family out of her mind again and took deep breaths. Whatever else, she had her honor left, and what little composure she was able to muster.
Not far from the village, maybe an hour’s march, the road tapered off, and they were unloaded and led through a prettyish woods which opened up into a rolling pasture land dotted with grey rock and framed beyond by the sea which crashed slowly and rhythmically against the low rocky cliffs. Under any other circumstance she would have been moved by the beauty and serenity of the place. Now she felt only dread.
One cliff rose up into a rocky spire before them and where the grey stone met emerald grass, a black opening rose up into view.
Caliope was seized with sudden fear and stopped short instinctively. She wasn’t the only one. The guards let them stare a moment before prodding them forward like skittish ewes. The cavern loomed overhead, as high at least as five tall men. She had heard that the creature was a giant. Some said he was a titan who escaped Zeus’s fury, others that he was a Cyclops. One even said he was a great serpent like the one Perseus slew.
As they entered the cave she inhaled. The air was surprisingly dry, and smelled only of the sea air, not death and rot as she had expected.
The guards paused them at the entrance, most of them glancing anxiously around, nervously fingering their hilts. From somewhere at the back of the great cavern a man appeared. He was average looking, at least, that is, there was nothing strange or monstrous about him, even if he was a bit rough and worn around the edges. His squared jaw was shadowed with the hint of a beard and his hair was longish and loose, the ends brushing his sturdy looking shoulders. He nodded with familiarity to the captain who eyed him suspiciously, but nodded back.
There was a guard near her standing close to the back. She leaned closer to him and whispered “Who is that?”
He leaned forward, his mouth near her ear. “The creature’s servant.”
“Ah.”
The man walked past the captain and gave a quick appraisal, noting each girl quickly, pausing briefly at one or two. As his eyes moved she caught them and held them a moment. They were a piercing blue grey. She wondered if he saw the question in her own dark eyes. If he did, she couldn’t see an answer in his.
“This it?” he asked coolly.
The captain bristled.
“This is the tribute.” he responded with a tight voice, emphasizing the word tribute.”Very well. You may go.”
He motioned for the women to follow. “This way.”
The Captains jaw twitched and after a hesitant moment motioned his solders to move out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see the guard behind her give her a sad and apologetic look. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and followed the man who was already disappearing before her. No one else moved until she was halfway across the broad cavern floor. Slowly, a few at a time, they stumbled and shuffled forward. She didn’t turn around but she could hear them whimpering.
She straighten her shoulders and marched on into the dark unknown uneasily.
They passed through torch lit stone halls until they paused at one of the heavy doors that looked like it might be bolted directly into the stone. He opened it and stood aside. She entered first, tentatively. The room was empty, causing an involuntary sigh of relief. The room wasn’t large, but it was lined with pillowed benches, and there was a table with some food and water at the far end. It was at least more comfortable than a prison cell, or cage, and it sparked a dangerous hope in her heart. Then again, she reconsidered as the others filed past her, perhaps this was the only place to put them for the time being.
“Wait here.” Was all the servant said before he closed the door behind him. They all just looked at each other for a while, a few still clinging to others for comfort.
Calliope turned and tried the door. It was locked, as she suspected.
“What shall become of us.” whispered a young girl with wide terrified brown eyes. She looked like a doe cornered by a hunter, trembling with fear.
“It’s going to eat us!” squealed another.
“No,” Calliope responded, “I don’t think so. Why wouldn’t they just throw us in a cage or prison if that were the case.” No one answered. “Besides, I’m sure we’re all too skinny too make a good meal.” She tried to smile light-heartedly to ease the oppressive weight of their united fear.
“Maybe young girls taste better.” Another one whispered, making her neighbor whimper.
“What else can a giant want from us?” Said another, almost angrily. “We’re going to die!” This caused another round of tears and sobbing, which was frankly getting tiresome, and wasn’t helping her retain her composure.
“Why aren’t you afraid?” Asked the doe eyed girl.
“I am.” She admitted. The girl only nodded and curled up her knees to her chest on one of the benches.
No one touched the food.
After an eternity the servant returned.
“The master is here.”
They all stared at him, some in open horror. He let out an impatient sigh.
“Well don’t all jump up at once. Let’s go. Up, all of you.” One by one they rose and approached the door. Calliope had sat next to the door on the floor, and waited until they’d all filed out until rising and bringing up the rear. She thought of turning around and making a dash for it, but then thought of all those poor girls facing their fate alone while she hid like a coward. Besides she thought glancing behind her, who knows where those corridors led. Out of the pot and into the fire she mused.
They had returned to the great cavern and the group was stopped at the center, facing the entrance. It was only a moment before a shadow passed before the cave’s mouth, and was followed by a figure that filled the massive opening, blocking the last rays of the setting sun.
It, he, was monstrous. A giant at least, no…more than, twenty feet tall, wearing only a half toga as laborers do in the hot sun, his massive upper body exposed, revealing strange greyish colored skin stretched tightly over huge knotted muscles. He looked as though he could crush a man’s head between his thumb and forefinger. She couldn’t repress her shudder. Two of the girls became feint and fell into the arms of their neighbors, and several screamed.
He looked down at them with huge gleaming amber eyes. As the glare from the sun faded behind him she noticed two short horns that sprung from his hairless head like a saters. She glanced at his feet expecting hooves, but they were more or less normal looking, like a man’s, just much, much bigger, enough to support tree trunk legs. He seemed to look them over, and snorted derisively, causing a number of them to let out another round of terrified cries, that broke down into more uncontrollable weeping. He shook his massive head, and his strangely colored eyes darkened. She thought he looked… disappointed. She wondered what that meant. She decided it wasn’t good. When he opened his mouth to speak his voice rolled over them like distant thunder.
“Take them away Demitri” Demitri, the servant, nodded and began shepherding them all back into the hall. Calliope paused, not following, only staring up at the behemoth. Demitri didn’t seem to notice; perhaps he was too busy trying to revive one girl who’d fallen unconscious. She watched as he hefted her up into his arms and shooed the others ahead of him.
She looked back at the towering figure. He’d turned and was just standing, looking back outside. She swallowed hard and stepped forward. Their lives might depend on what she did next she thought, so she better not do anything stupid. She cleared her throat softly. He didn’t seem to hear.
“My lord” she called tentatively. She saw the corded muscles in his neck twitch indicating he’d heard her. He turned his head slowly and looked at her with mild curiosity.
“Yes?” His voice rumbled deeply in his chest reverberating through the cavern, shaking her to the bone. She took a breath. “I, I’m sorry.” She stuttered. “I’m sorry, that you’re disappointed.”
“Are you now?” He arched an eyebrow at her and turned. Looking directly at his face now she noticed how his elongated canines showed when he spoke, pressing lightly against his bottom lip. They terrified her.
What’s more she wasn’t sure how to respond to the question. She should have thought this through.
“I…I would hate for you to be angry…my lord.”
“I see. Is that all?” She paused.
“I suppose so. Yes.”
“Very well.” He turned back away.
“My lord.”
“Yes.” He did not turn around.
“Have you decided what will happen to us?”
It was his turn to pause. “No.”
“I see.” She lowered her head and closed her eyes. “Is it very likely that we will die my lord?”
She didn’t see him turn and look back at her this time.
“No,” he said in a softer tone, “you will not die.”
Her heart jumped out of her chest and she was awash with relief when she raised her eyes back up to meet his frightening gaze. She wasn’t going to die! No one was.
“Thank you my lord.” She breathed, feeling her first honest smile in days playing across her lips. He softened visibly and moved closer crouching down in alarming proximity to her so that she was but a step or two away from reaching out and touching his bent knee. She didn’t pull away, but the urge to run was powerfully strong. I’m not going to die she reminded herself, and took another deep breathe.
“Is that why they’re all screaming and crying? They expect to die?”
“Well… partially. But you must forgive them,” she rushed on “they’re all very upset, and you’re, well, surprising, to see so…suddenly.” Damn she though, that hadn’t come out very well.
“I think you mean terrifying.” She opened her mouth to argue, and realized it was futile and ridiculous. All she could do was nod apologetically.
“And what about you? Why aren’t you screaming and trembling in fear?”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t. But if it’s any consolation,” she added, “I’m out of my mind with fear right now.” She tried to smile gamily, but she thought if felt more like a grimace. He gave her a little smirk and stood again.
“Fair enough. Well, if it will be any consolation to Them, you may tell them they aren’t in any immediate danger, and certainly not of death.”
She nodded. “It may help.”
He looked like he was about to leave again.
“One more thing my lord…”
He sighed. “What is it?”
“Is, is there anything that I might do?”
“Do?”
“To… serve you.” Or make you less displeased she thought.
“You want to serve me?”
“It was very gracious of you to spare our lives. It seems like the least I can do.” He looked at her a long while before he spoke.
“Demitri will be serving my evening meal soon. After that I think I will have a bath. You can help him and draw that bath. Good?”
“Yes my lord.” He looked at her again and turned striding back out into the pastures that surrounded the cavern before she could bother him again. “You fool.” she chided herself. “How are you going to pull this one off.” How did one draw a bath for giant? She didn’t know where to start. It just didn’t seem possible. It must be a test she thought. The only person who might know was Demitri, but if it was a test, he might not help her. He might not help her just because, he did seem like the miserable type. “Only one way to find out.” she muttered and went off down the smooth stone hall in search of Demitri. She found him in what looked like a kitchen of some sort. He looked up in surprise from a roasted lamb he was carving.
“What on earth are you doing in here? How did you get out?” he was striding towards her and reaching for her arm before she could stutter anything out.
“I needed your help. I never went back. Please.” He was pulling her out of the room and into the hall. “Please, stop, the master…he, he set me a task..”
He finally paused. “You spoke with him?”
“Yes.” He released her arm. “And?”
“And he told me to draw him a bath…is, is this possible?”
“Of course it’s possible.” He looked at her like she was addled.
“I mean is there such a bath for one of his…stature?”
“Look, there’s a room two doors down on the left, the bathing cistern is there, go and take a look if you don’t believe me, but I have work to do.”
“Can I help?”
“Yes, take this,” he pointed to a tray with a plate of olives, grapes, and fruit and a large jug of dark wine, “and deliver it to the room next to the bath…the first door down.”
“Where does it go.”
“Wherever makes sense.”
She nodded and picked up the tray and headed down the hall. “Drop it and I’ll whip the life right out of you…” he called after her. At the first door she paused, and balancing the tray partially on one knee, she pushed the door open. The interior was surprisingly pleasant. There were a few tapestries, some of them very handsome, some benches and numerous skins and pillows piled around a low table. The table seemed the logical place for the platter, so she set it carefully before taking a better look around. It was a little bit sparse, but it could reasonably be considered a normal room in most houses, excepting the grey stone walls. There was a single large decorative vase on a little table against the wall with images of warriors battling a three headed monster, and a large somewhat ornate chest against another wall. She thought to peek in, but thought better of it instantly, an image of Pandora standing over her god forsaken box flitting through her head. Instead she left the room, eschewing temptation, and went in search of this enormous bath. There was a bath in the next room, but she instantly thought it was a joke, or a trick being played on her.
Certainly the sunken stone bath was large enough to fit four or more normal people comfortably, but certainly not a giant such as the master of this place.
Her heart sank…and here she thought it might not be so hard. There was not much more she could do but prepare the bath and plead ignorance later. At least she could claim she was trying to be obedient, or some other such nonsense.
She noticed a spigot at one side of the squared bath, she knelt down and turned the little crank attached to it and water gulped out slowly, fresh water too by the smell, just like in some of the nicer bath houses. That would save her having to haul several dozen buckets of water at least. She filled the bath until it covered the built in bench, and headed back to the kitchen. The water was cool, but more tepid than frigid, which meant less boiled water was needed. Another point in her favor. She was calculating the time it would take to boil that water when she reached the kitchen and saw to her surprise and delight four kettles already set to boil on the oven.
“Tell me those are for me.”
Demitri looked up with a gruff expression and snorted. “Some one had to get it started.” He looked angry but she was sure she heard a laughing if sardonic note in his voice which gave her some ease.
“Here, make yourself useful and fetch more water.” He thrust a couple of pails at her and turned back to his work. She figured she was on her own as far as finding water. She did remember a creek not far from the cave that they crossed to get here.
At the entrance to the cave she paused, wondering if she was breaking a rule by leaving. It shouldn’t be an issue so long as I come back she mused and shrugged heading out across the now darkness-blackened grass. She found the water easily by sound, despite the distracting crash of the waves below, and stooped to collect her load. For a moment she thought she felt someone approach from behind, but turning, she saw and heard no one.
“Just the tricks of an unfamiliar place.” she muttered to console herself. She filled the buckets quickly and moved as swiftly as she might without losing any of her cargo. In the kitchen dinner looked like it was prepared and the smell of roasted lamb was a compelling reminder of how little she’d eaten that day, a few figs in the morning, and a piece of bread at mid-day. No one had had much of an appetite. But with the fear of immediate danger abated somewhat, the little activity had made her appetite return. Demitri carried the big platter on one shoulder into the hall and she followed with her first set of kettles leaving him at the tapestry room and continuing next door.
Carrying her second set of kettles she mused that none of the rooms she’d seen, nor the halls for that matter were large enough to support the giant, and she wondered then who they might be for. Perhaps he is not the master she considered as she refilled the kettles, perhaps the giant was merely a guard of sorts. Then again he had asked specifically for a bath for himself. It didn’t make any real sense to her. She sighed and sat down on a little stool next to the oven and picked at a plate of olives left out by Demitri. A while later, Demitri appeared at the door with an empty wine jug and thrust it towards her. She hesitated and he shook it impatiently.
“Fill it and take it to him, I have better things to do.”
She carefully accepted the jug which he all but tossed at her and swept off in some other direction. She filled the tall jug full up and carried it back to the supper room, where she assumed she was meant to go. The door was ajar and she pushed it open with her hip. It was a good thing she did too, for without two hands clutching it she would have dropped the heavy carafe right there on the floor. In front of her, to her amazement, was a miniaturized replica of the giant lounging on one of the wide benches popping grapes in his mouth. Of course he was miniature by no one’s standards, looking as though he must still stand nearly eight feet tall, and proportionately as wide. He sat up and held up his glass, taking in her gaping expression with what looked like mild amusement on his not quite human face. This sobered her up a bit and she moved forward, carefully tipping the wine into his cup. She stood back again, still clutching the jug and stared. He watched her over his glass as he drank back the wine, proffering the cup a second time. Silently, she filled it.
“So,” he began after settling back onto his bench, “how goes the bath?”
“Well my lord.” Her voice sounded a little raspy to her and she swallowed to clear it.
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a while until he waved a hand. “Please, sit. I don’t imagine you’ve eaten anything yet.” She walked around the table to sit at the other side. Close enough to fill his glass, but still separated by the table corner. “You can probably put that down.” She looked down and noticed she still clutched the jug. With a flush she slid it onto the table.
“Here,” he held out his glass to her, and she reached for the jug again.
“No, no, take it, you look like you’ve seen Hades. Drink.” She took the glass tentatively but found once it was to her lips that she was as thirsty as she was hungry. The glass was nearly empty when she finally remembered herself, and she put it down with another flush. He said nothing but finished the glass for her with a toss and refilled it, pushing it back towards her. She remembered to sip instead of gulp this time. And placed it demurely between them, not sure if she was meant to keep it or give it back.
“Go ahead, don’t stand on ceremony, I’ve already eaten.” He took another sip out of the shared cup and replaced it in front of her before reclining with an air of satisfaction against the cushioned wall. After she’d satisfied her own hunger, and had had enough wine to give her courage she looked over at him quizzically.
“Can you change your shape at will then?”
“My size yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“Many things are possible.” She looked down at her now empty plate.
“How large can you become?”
“Not much larger than you’ve seen me.”
“And small?” He opened his arms to present himself. “That’s not very small.”
“No.” He smiled, exposing his fangs again. Wine or no they continued to make her nervous. So she looked around the room.
“At first I thought the bath thing was some sort of evil test.” She smiled nervously. “Then I saw the bath, and realized it was just a bad joke…but now…”She gestured to him, “it makes much more sense.”
He chuckled and nodded in agreement, “a terrible joke indeed.”
“Did you create this place?” she asked, looking around.
“Partially. The caverns themselves are natural.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“A long time.”
“And these things?” She motioned to the vase and tapestries.
“Collected, or parts of tributes… like yourself.”
Her stomach seized a little and her eyes shot over towards him. He’d said no death, but he never said what was going to happen.
Her voice came out in a breathy whisper, “What was your intention for us, for this tribute?”
“Intentions and outcomes often differ.” His eyes darkened again like they had when he’d first seen the girls.
“I’ve never been very patient, and I especially can’t abide whimpering and crying.” He seemed to become irritated, as if remembering the sight of all those sobbing girls set him on edge. She could sympathize, it set her nerves alight as well. “My intentions were linked with my hopes…which have been…disappointed, as you said. Therefore I’m obliged to consider alternative options.” His voice and expression seemed dark and far away, as if, she imagined, contemplating some terrible thought. She reached out a hand involuntarily to calm him touching his forearm lightly. The muscle jumped under her hand and his other arm shot out to grab her wrist. She let out a startled gasp. He released her before she could pull away or apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I wasn’t expecting your touch.” She swallowed hard and nodded.
“I didn’t mean to startle you either.” She paused and looked down at the empty cup in front of her.
“Please…my lord, perhaps if you give them some time to adjust, if you let me talk to them they will calm down. They are, after all, very young. We all are.” She added after a pause remembering to include herself in that.
“As I noted before, You are not screaming and crying.”
She nodded.”I’m different though, I volunteered.”
He looked at her more intensely.
“And they didn’t?”
“No. They were chosen because they were the younger daughters of age, from the largest families.” He leaned back and let out a heavy sigh.
“Let me guess, every one of them is a virgin aren’t they.”
It didn’t seem like a question, but she answered anyway. “It would be highly unlikely if one of them were not.”
“And you?” He seemed to look her up and down in an appraising manner, as if really looking at her for the first time. She looked down to hide her blush.”I’ll take that as a yes. Why did you volunteer?”
“To save my younger sister.” She answered honestly returning her eyes to his face. “She had better prospects for marriage anyway.” He arched a brow at her. “No suitors banging down your door?”
She shook her head, “Men seem to find me somewhat…cold, I lack the graces of my sisters. My father thinks…thought I would make an excellent merchants wife. I wasn’t enthusiastic about it myself.” Why was she telling him this? It must be the wine. She wrung her hands.
“You seem quite pleasant to me.”
She flushed and cleared her throat, rising. “Thank you. I’m sorry my lord I’ve taken too much of your time. Your water will be ready for the bath by now. Thank you for the supper.” She bowed and exited the room hastily not waiting to be excused.
The wine had made her flushed, she shouldn’t have drank so much on an empty stomach. She was hot all over. In the kitchen she found the water was indeed ready and she hastened to the bath. He’d already made his way into the adjoining room and had disrobed. She quickly averted her eyes. It wasn’t as though she’d not seen a naked man, certainly she’d seen many, it was after all customary for the daughters of well off men to tend and bathe his most honored guests. There was nothing new in this for her, but unlike the body of your average 40 something year old, a giant of a man, an exceedingly well proportioned giant of a man, was rather much to take in without being caught in a blatant wide eyed stare. She kept her eyes on the water until he was safely submerged. She looked up at him and he gave her a knowing smile.
She forced down a blush. “More hot water?” He nodded and she fetched the rest pouring it in slowly until he motioned enough.
There was soap and towels laid out, by Demitri she guessed, which she collected and knelt behind him. She wet the cloth and was about to start when he pulled away and turned to look at her, an incredulous look on his face. “What are you doing?”
Her instinctive response was, exactly what it looks like I’m doing, but that would have been rude, and possibly dangerous… so she ventured tentatively, “helping you wash?”
“Why would you do that?”
She wasn’t sure what to say.
“It’s what we always do…at home…for honoured guests…”
“Really?”
“Yes my lord.”
Was he angry? He was looking at her very suspiciously and she felt as though she’d done something terribly wrong. Would he punish her? “Very well.” Was all he said and turned back around, stretching his long arms across the edge of the bath. She proceeded with her work, rubbing his arms and shoulders, massaging them as she went, one of her more appreciated skills, and smiled when she earned an approving grunt. “That feels good.”
“Thank you.”
It better feel good she thought, she’d never worked so hard in her life. Most men she’d massaged were older, and softer. This was like trying to rub the knots out of a tree trunk. Eventually her arms tired and she proceeded to the chest and waist. The front was her little sister’s domain. She would chat and flirt and entertain, sometimes getting a little carried away, while Calliope would shake her head at her in mock disapproval from behind whatever besotted man was melting under their fingers.
Her sister was a mystery. Good and chaste in-fact, but seemed wild and sensual in spirit. She remembered how shocked she’d been the first time she’d seen her sister do…That to a man while bathing him, and the way she’d laughed at her shock later that evening when she questioned her. She said it was practice for when she was finally married…she’d never questioned it, what was the point, Helena would just do it anyway. Lost in her thoughts she was smiling distractedly and didn’t notice the careful eyes watching her work.
“What ARE you thinking about?”
She started out of her reverie. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have a tendency to drift. I’ve never been good at small talk…that was my sister’s domain.
“That’s who I was thinking about just now.” She added.
“What about her?” He pressed after she didn’t continue.
“Oh just how we used to do this for guests together…I was thinking how she’d always take the front and …ah, well, um I’d take the back.” He didn’t press it but gave her a sideways look. She blushed and tried to focus on the task at hand. He and the bath were too big, she’d have to climb in to finish…and gods knew what she’d bump into once she was in. He must have sensed her hesitation and took the cloth from her, continuing her job. She rewarded his kindness by continuing to massage his neck. He paused and groaned.
“Did I hurt you?” She asked softly.
He chuckled. “Not possible.”
She smiled at the back of his smooth head. This wasn’t so bad. He seemed nice enough, kind even.
Normal…if you weren’t looking at the two curved horns at his forehead, or those strange amber eyes. Things could be much worse.
“You’re very close to you sister.”
“Yes. Her name is Helena.”
“Tell me more about her.”
She complied happily. She loved to talk about her sister, her charm and beauty, her easy manners and gentle spirit.
She rambled on easily and he seemed interested to hear it, interjecting questions when appropriate. After a time he reached up and laid a hand on hers, the sensation sent a little lightning bolt up her arm and through her body, startling her.
“You care very much for her don’t you.”
“Yes,” she said softly her eyes on the hand that covered hers.
“Was she the one you saved from me?”
She felt a stab in her stomach. At first she thought it might be fear, but she realized, strangely, that it was more like guilt.
“Yes.” She said, this time no more than a whisper.
“This makes you sad.”
“No..I mean, I..” What could she say? “No, it was good that I came, took her place…but…” She paused. “I know it’s strange, but you, you would have liked her better I think.”
He turned around to look at her. She sat back on her heels, hands resting on her knees.
“Are you saying you feel guilty because you deprived me of a more entertaining bath?”
“Yes…” she paused thinking about it, “That is what I’m saying. Odd isn’t it?” She quirked a smile at him. He didn’t seem as frightening when he had that expression of surprise and disbelief strung across his features. It was almost funny.
“I’d say so.” He turned around again leaning against the edge. With his shoulders back and lowered she had a clearer view of his lap, and the water hid very little from this angle. The sight made her swallow hard. I could try it, she thought, looking at his lap warily…do what my sister does. It was so much bigger than the others though, even soft it lay heavily against his massive thigh like some sleeping serpent. And she’d only ever seen her sister do it, not done it herself. How would she even begin? She sighed.
A sudden thought occurred to her. He seemed disappointed by the idea that he was sent virgins. Could it be because…
“Sir,” her hands were back on his shoulders, “what’s so terrible about virgins?”
“What isn’t?” he rumbled. “I will never understand the human fascination with virgins. No other animal cares, hell most seem to go the other way entirely.” He sighed and shook his head. “It makes no sense.”
“Is there something else you’d prefer?”
“Damn right” he growled. She saw his member twitch beneath the water. She felt warm again, though this time she wasn’t sure it was the wine. She recalled how flushed her sister had become when she was going to…to do that. She was sure why he wanted them, for the most obvious reason a man would want a dozen or so young women, and why a couple prostitutes might have been a better choice than twenty vestils. She hadn’t thought about it knowing he was a giant. But now that he was a more…reasonable size, it was the only answer.
She was working down over his shoulders to his chest. As she moved down, her breasts grazed his back causing another much more noticeable shock to run through her. She could feel the colour rise in her face. Her lips felt dry and she ran her tongue over them. She noticed also that he was beginning to stiffen under the water.
He seemed to tense up under her, she had to keep him talking, relaxed, if this was going to work. She was certain this was the crux of his disappointment, and for everyone’s sake she hoped she could diminish it.
She pulled away slowly and stood, tucking her hem up into her belt so that her legs were bare from mid thigh down, and stepped into the tub, lowering herself onto her knees on the bench beside him. He gave her a look of alert weariness that bordered on alarm. She attempted to ignore it.
“Well?” she asked as she matter of factly began massaging his legs, carefully avoiding touching him anywhere else.
“Well what?” His voice rasped, sounding even thicker and deeper, which was impressive considering how deep it already was. The sound inflamed the growing warmth that had begun building inside her, and her body, especially her stomach and thighs, began to tingle with sensation. It wasn’t totally unfamiliar, or unpleasant. She’d felt this way before, but it was another feeling entirely this close to another person, especially this creature, who hours before she thought might devour her. And he was so intimidating as it was. His sheer size and height was frightening, never mind the…other factors.
She tried to keep her hands from shaking.
“Well, is there someone, or something else that would have been better? Perhaps you might recall the guards and make a trade.” Her hands were traveling up his thighs. She couldn’t bear to look at him now, see him looking at her, but she heard him hold his breath.
“Perhaps” He rasped again, his legs tensed to iron beneath her fingers and she heard a sharp intake of air as her thumbs grazed sensitive flesh at the base of his now very erect penis. She looked at it, staring openly; there was no reason not to. No going back. Not just because she thought she should. She didn’t want to go back. She was surprised by how much she actually wanted to touch it, and by how its twitching incited her to keep going. It helped that she hadn’t looked in his eyes. It was so long, and so thick, riddled with twisting veins, she’d never seen anything like it. Too big, far too big, she thought, suddenly apprehensive again.
She breathed deeply and gently brushed the length of it with her finger tips. It sent shivers up and down her spine and straight between her legs. Too late now, she thought, and wrapped her fingers around the center of the long rigid shaft, squeezing gently. She was surprised and oddly pleased by its smooth silky texture, and the way it pulsed against her palms with a throbbing warmth. She dared a glance at his face.
He was looking right back at her, his eyes dark and questioning, but he made no motion to stop her. She licked at her dry lips again and turned her attention back to the monster in her slender hand. She had never considered herself particularly dainty, but he made her hand look positively tiny. She thought of the giant serpent rumour she’d heard and chuckled inwardly. This might account for that. She ran her hand lightly up and down the shaft feeling it buck beneath her touch. She adjusted herself, sitting next to him, no longer caring if her dress was soaked and wrapped both hands around the dancing cock. She squeezed and tried to remember how Helena had done it. Helena had always used one hand, but that wouldn’t suffice here as she couldn’t get her fingers all the way around him, so she began slowly stroking the length of him with both hands, unsure of the effect. As she ran her hands up over the swollen head and back down over it again, squeezing gently she was rewarded with a low moan. She looked back again to see him sitting with eyes closed, and his lips slightly parted over those long teeth. They didn’t seem to bother her so much anymore. She took heart and repeated the long slow stroke a few more times until his breathing become ragged.
She watched his face, fascinated by the almost pained expression there. He’d stop her if she hurt him, wouldn’t he? His eyes opened into hers. They were dark again, and full of fiery energy. It was a different sort of darkness, and she belatedly recognized it as lust, though not before the gaze had sufficiently seared her insides. She turned her eyes away, unable to stand that look for long. Her hands had already increased their pace in response without urging and her thighs contracted in time with her hands. She tried to still them, but found it impossible.
His hips slowly rose to meet her hands, exposing most of him to the air and revealing moisture that was clearly not water at the mushroomed tip. As she ran her hand over it she found it slick and it allowed her to move more easily over him. Watching intently while her hands slid over the smooth flesh she remembered her sister telling her that one of her friends had used her mouth on her husband. It had seemed strange at the time, but now the thought sent an excited thrill through her.
One of his hands had moved to her back and was caressing the length of it through the thin fabric. Leaning in she mimicked the motion with her tongue and lapped from base to tip eliciting a gasping moan from him. It was a little strange, but it was also extremely exciting, touching him so intimately. She squeezed her thighs tighter causing a hot throb to course through her loins. Licking around the swollen head, she pressed her lips against the tip and slowly took him into her mouth, pulling as much inside her as possible, stretching her jaw as wide as she could. She didn’t get very far before she was forced to stop and let out a chocked groan as she felt him pressing against the back of her throat. Her moan was accompanied by a low growl from above.
She looked up. He was watching her again, his eyes burning into hers. This time she didn’t look away, and let them sear into her making her tremble and her hands, still wrapped around his cock, shake. But her mouth still moved, sliding rhythmically and automatically over his now slick head.
He kept his eyes locked on hers as he reached out and stroked her hair, threading his fingers through it. He gripped her head pulling her hair taunt against her skull. A shock of sensation that wasn’t quite pain shot through her. She groaned low in her throat, and the vibrations made him shudder beneath her and his eyes rolled breaking their contact. She moaned again, this time intentionally and watched his rapturous expression, revelling in the sudden power. The more he growled and the harder he gripped her hair the more voraciously she tried to devour him with her tongue and hands.
He pumped his hips against her mouth and she gripped his thighs to steady herself as she felt him stiffen even more against her tongue. She let out one more moan before he gasped and cried out thickly. She felt a pressure in her mouth and it was suddenly filled. She nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. She blinked up at him taking heavy breaths.
He looked down at her as she panted in his lap, the fingers of one of his hands still loosely twined in her hair.
She felt shaken and disoriented. What was she supposed to do now? He said nothing and just sat there looking at her.
She became suddenly self-conscious. She was in disarray, her tidy pinned hair had come undone and hung in messy curls, she was half soaked, and her dress had begun to slip from her shoulders. His hand finally dropped from her hair.
She pulled her dress back up, blushing, and did her best to re-pin her errant curls. Half way she froze as he slowly reached out and started pulling at the pins she was attempting to replace. She lowered her hand and held her breath as he pulled out the last pins and poured them from his palm onto the stone floor behind him. Her hair fell down around her shoulders in a mass of dark curls.
She continued to watch him with bated breath through her loosened hair. She searched his face but he was unreadable and silent. She tried to remember what happened now, but her mind was a blur, and she was distracted by the combined heat of her arousal and embarrassment.
She remembered that they would say something, something nice to her sister, then she’d laugh sweetly, but normally Caliope left her alone, and she wouldn’t hear it from the other room. He was still watching her, why wouldn’t he say something she wondered. Was he unhappy with her? Surely not, he seemed well enough pleased a moment ago.
Again he said nothing, but he raised a hand to brush the hair from her face and cupped her cheek in one hand. His hand practically engulfed her but was extremely gentle, almost tender and she gave into the urge to move towards it. She sighed lightly, relieved and reassured that he’d finally acted.
“You do that for your guests then?” His voice was soft, but held a fair amount of laughter. “N-no,” she stuttered out, “not me…but my sister, sometimes…with her hands I mean…”She trailed off, her blush deepening.
“First time?”
She nodded, looking at her hands in her lap.
“I hope it was adequate.”
“Quite. You certainly don’t lack enthusiasm.” She nodded at her lap and began to rise, not being clear headed enough to think of something clever or endearing to say. But before she made it to her feet she was pulled off balance by a quick hand snaking around her waist and fell back into his readied arms as he too rose, taking their dripping bodies out of the bath. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself as he made for a side door. She must have weighed less than nothing to him because he was able to open the door easily and half tossed her onto a pile of skins and pillows near the back of the new room which looked much like the dining room, only without the long low table. She let out a yelp when he tossed her, and scrambled off the pile. He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Where are you off to?”
“I’m soaked, I’ll get it all wet.” She tried to gather the clinging material so that it would drip less on the rugs. He grinned at her.
“Then why don’t you take it off?”
She paused then, forgetting her dripping self and looked up at him. His eyes were already roaming over her sprawled form, and his amused expression was replaced with another more fiery one. Apparently they weren’t done. Hesitantly she got up on her knees, and shimmied the sticky wet cloth up her hips and over her head. She crossed her breasts with one arm in a vain attempt at modesty and held the damp mass in her other hand, unsure now of what to do with it. He solved that dilemma by taking it and tossing it in a heap on the stone floor. She wrapped both her arms around herself and shivered feeling the cool air and his eyes on her now bare skin.
He loomed over her, glistening. The flickering torchlight turned his damp skin silver and gave his horns a metallic sheen. He looked like a temple statue to posidon or an idol of a river god.
The statue shifted and knelt, the gold and silver returning to brown and grey, and he was suddenly very near, and very real. His body was close to hers, no more than a hands span away. And though he didn’t touch her she could feel the nearness of him crawling across her skin making her hairs stand on end. She waited an eternity with ever quickening breath and stiff limbs for him to act. Finally, and with all the urgency of a melting candle, he moved, taking her by the shoulders and turning her, forcing her stomach first onto the rugs. She complied stiffly and lay her palms to the ground near her face, turning her head in frigid apprehension. She had a general idea of what was to happen next, but she wasn’t that close to her married sisters to have a more detailed understanding. She supposed he intended to enter her…somehow, with that oversized staff of his. The thought made her squeeze her thighs together involuntarily.
“Definitely a virgin.” He sighed behind her. She began to push herself up to respond but she was met with two hands pushing her back down and kneading into her flesh, rubbing hard into her shoulder blades. The force pushed the breath right out of her and pinned her to the floor, but it did feel painfully good. He kept going moving roughly up and down her back with his massive hands until she could do nothing but go limp and malleable beneath him. She groaned as he captured her neck and her lower skull in one hand and gently squeezed three days of travel and fear from her body. She was half asleep by the time he reached her legs and did little more than blink in surprise as she felt his thumbs dip between her thighs, grazing the soft flesh between.
Her mind may have been slow to respond, but the rest of her responded immediately. Her legs flexed and parted ever so slightly, enough to encourage a second, and third pass before her mind had cleared and she finally gasped as he kneaded her buttocks, sliding a thumb firmly along the length of her slit.
Before she could tense again he turned her over, gripping her by the hips and pulling her downwards making her knees bend and spread, exposing her to him completely. He shifted himself, kneeling between her legs and cupping her backside with his massive hands. She was going to protest, but his mouth was already pulling other sounds from her before she had the chance.
Gasping she watched in surprise as he forced his face between her legs, parting them with his broad shoulders and ran his tongue along the same path his thumb had taken seconds before. She felt an instant hot shiver as his wet tongue parted her and slid along the soft folds, pressing itself against the throbbing center. She pushed her hips against his mouth in order to feel that wonderful pressure deeper inside her, but he pulled away sliding his tongue higher, making her groan in frustration until he landed on a new spot. He pressed his mouth and tongue against her sensitive nub, pushing and sucking at it and wracking her body with spine twisting shocks of sensation. She was vaguely aware of the sharp points of his teeth digging lightly into her flesh, and the thought produced an erotic fear that accentuated the effects of his tongue, making her whole body contract and spasm. Her back felt as though it was about to snap as she convulsed under him and the pleasure of the sensation was rapidly turned into torture.
She arched her hips encouraging him lower, but to no avail, and the only audible sounds she could produce were incoherent half words that died into whimpers. Finally she put her hand against his head and pushed down, attempting to force him back towards the unattended and now aching center. He complied, if slowly, chuckling against her, sending more warm shivers down her legs. She watched him through lust glazed eyes enjoying the strange but erotic sight of his long tongue darting out between his teeth to stab gently at her now slick flesh. His tongue pierced her folds easily, and she writhed beneath him trying to force him deeper. She wondered and hoped that he had felt such pleasure when she had tried to attend to his needs. If he had felt half of what she was feeling than she must have made him very happy indeed. Never had she felt anything so incredible, so intense. She wondered if it could even be called pleasure…yet she did not wish to see it end, not for the world.
He pushed against her in response when she wriggled even harder against his wonderful mouth, thrusting his tongue slowly in and out of her swollen, sensitized flesh. All she could think about was getting more of him inside her, as if there was some terrible unreachable place demanding satisfaction. She shifted her grip on his head, sliding her hand against one of his ridged horns and pressing it between two splayed fingers. She ran the tips of her fingers over it as she imagined with closed eyes something of a similar shape pressed elsewhere.
And, as if by magic, his still stabbing tongue was joined by first one, then two fingers, which he slid slowly inside of her as his tongue lapped again at the sensitive swollen crest. There was an initial discomfort as he pushed the first finger into her and a hot, sharp pain that made her gasp and bite back a whimper, yet even so,his fingers moved easily covered in her slick wetness. It still took her a moment to adjust to the tight stretching pain as he plummeted into her, forcing his thick fingers knuckle deep, making her burn and grunt softly in pain. She let out another low groan as his finger tips paused and curved inside of her, pressing against the walls, and caressing some wonderful hidden place inside of her, before slowly sliding out. His tongue still worked at her, and the sensations distracted her somewhat from the discomfort.
He repeated the curving, thrusting motion, gradually increasing his speed until she began grinding against his hand. Despite the hot sear as he stretched her, she found that every time he pulled from her, she was anxious to have him back, and began to delight in the friction his fingers caused. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist in an attempt to pull him against her, her mind empty of all but one thought.
“More.” she whispered hoarsely, pulling at his steady hand as she trembled uncontrollably. He was on top of her now, leaning over her, one hand by her shoulder steadying himself, the other still working between her slick thighs. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her jaw, tracing it and following the line of her throat with his tongue. His skin, where she gripped him at the wrist, and at his neck where her hand had slid as he moved over her, was cool to the touch, but his mouth was burning hot. He moved lower with his fiery tongue, etching a path to the valley of her breasts. He brushed one breast with his lips, his teeth scraping lightly against the inner curve, before sliding his tongue over the hard nipple. Her breath came in shaking gasps as he began to use her breast as he had her sex, sucking and pulling at it with his mouth and teeth, making her squirm and writhe even more fitfully.
He pulled his mouth away and dragged it over her throat and chin, hovering over her mouth. “What was that you said?”
She didn’t have the faintest idea…had she said something. She gave him a questioning look in between whimpers.
“Something about, more?”
Yes more. Absolutely more.
“Yes.” She agreed throatily, “yes, please.”
His hand moved off from her landing by her head. She gave it a mournful look and ground her hips against a phantom hand, only to find it too had been replaced.
She felt that mixture of fear and excitement that was becoming very familiar and caught her breath in anticipation.
He pressed forward, sliding the very hard, very hot head of his penis along the wet folds, pressing ever so slightly into the center. She bit her lip and spread her thighs a little wider, opening up beneath him. Her hand slid between their bodies, finding the shaft and sliding it back and forth along her slit until the tip was pressed firmly against the opening. He pushed into her, and she felt the head slide past her fingers and work its way with a few short thrusts inside of her.
It’s too big she thought as the stretched virgin flesh sent out waves of aching pain. It felt as though her sides would split and she’d be torn in half. She moaned and tilted her head, brushing her lips inadvertently against his, sending more erotic shivers through her. The shivers distracted her from the aching, and she made another pass at his lips, this time pressing her mouth against his, not caring that she didn`t know what she was doing only that it felt wonderful. He didn’t move or respond except to part his lips slightly, which she took as an invitation and kissed him more fully, her mouth parting with his. She felt the tip of his tongue graze her lips and she reciprocated eagerly sliding her tongue fully into his mouth and rubbing it against his. He let out a growl and forced her tongue back, possessing her mouth and pressing down hard against hers. She let out a surprised and excited sound and sucked at his tongue without thinking as he made love to her mouth, thrusting into her in an unabashed display of his immediate intentions elsewhere. In her excitement she’d barely noticed him slowly edging inside her until he was nearly pressed against the deepest wall of her sex and had begun to withdraw. Her hand reached for the base of his cock to prevent his withdrawal, inexplicably enjoying the strange but exciting feeling of being so completely filled despite the terrible ache it caused. He intercepted her hand and pinned her arm above her head.
“Do you want more or not?” His voice was harsh sounding and low, and it rumbled through her again like it had that first time. She nodded.
“Do you?” She parroted.
He paused a moment and gave her a cockeyed grin. “Yes, please.”
She let out a broken laugh as he began to re-enter her, stretching the tender flesh all over again. She winced against the ache, but lifted her hips to meet him nonetheless. That burning place had yet to be satisfied.
“Are you in pain?”
“A little.” It was much more than a little. Her voice sounded raw and breathless.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to beg me to stop?”
She shook her head. He was pressing against the deep wall, this time harder, and the pressure made her cramp. One of his hands had begun toying with her breasts, creating more of those warm and blessed shivers of sensation.
“That’s good” he said brushing his knuckles against the undersides of her breasts. “Because you’re a sweet girl and I’d hate to rape you.”
“You’d do that?” She asked, insensibly rocking her hips against his, and pressing her breast into his hand.
“I might. I’m not a nice person…perhaps I should enlighten you…” He pinched one of her nipples, a little hard, but she instantly wanted him to do it again.
“Perhaps…perhaps you might find a more…productive use for…your mouth.” She looked at him with glazed eyes, and he gave her a heart stopping look in return.
“As you wish my lady.” And with that his mouth was at hers devouring her mouth, her throat, and finally was at her breasts. She rewarded him with an approving squeeze at the back of his neck, and gripped his skull and horns as he ravaged her.
He pumped into her more aggressively now, and she ground against him, each shock sliding further from pain towards pleasure until he gripped her and forced himself completely inside of her with a sharp stab of pain. She cried out, clutching at him and wrapping her legs tightly around him, but he continued to thrust into her with greater need, moving more and more deeply, his tongue all over her body. Again the pain mingled with pleasure until it all blurred into a white heat. It was as if she felt everything and nothing. She had trouble discerning where one caress began and another violent thrust ended. She felt him moving above her, his huge muscles straining beneath her hands and at her mouth as she licked and nipped at his rough skin feeling an undeniable urge to feel and taste every part of him. She felt his moans as much as she heard them, vibrating through her body as he pressed against her, covering her and burying himself inside her. He was everywhere, and it felt as if there was nothing left of the world beyond their two straining bodies.
She was close to something, to that unreachable place, and she rocked her hips faster against him, grunting as their bodies slammed together. Her hips meet his thrusts coming closer and closer with each jarring shock. He laced his fingers through her loose hair and gripped her again, leveraging himself into her and sending a blinding heat through her making her hips jerk beneath him. His own cry tore from his throat as she shook beneath him, and she felt herself suddenly filled, if that were any more possible, and was overcome by a series of wrenching spasms that made her clutch at the skins under her and gasp for air. She twitched delirious as the throbbing inside of her sent hot waves of pleasure and relief through her trembling body.
The waves gradually slowed and she was, eventually, able to catch her breath. She looked up as her eyes came back into focus and watched him catch his own breath. Still inside her, he rolled over with a sigh, taking her with him pressing their sweat slicked bodies together with his free arm.
Her head rested on his arm, her cheek pressed against the hard ridge of his chest. She slid a hand along the groove, trailing it down to his stomach and pressed her hand against it, exploring the firm lines of the knotted muscles with her finger tips. His free arm released her to smooth over the length of her side, caressing her waist and hip. She turned her face to his find his eyes closed.
She smiled softly and ran her fingers over his cheek and thick jaw. His lips curved under her hand. He wasn’t asleep yet she thought.
“What’s your name?” He didn’t open his eyes, but his hand still moved over her.
“Caliope” she answered softly.
“Like the muse.”
“Yes.”
“That’s lovely.”
Her smile widened, those words seemed incongruous on his lips.
“Thank you.”
He cracked an eye at her. “You’re welcome.”
“And yours?”
“Thelios. But don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep.”
“Also lovely.”
He had a warm reverberating laugh that made her curl her body tighter against his.
“You really have no fear of me do you?” He asked, nuzzling the top of her head.
“As I told you before, I’m terrified.”
“I have trouble believing that.”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it I suppose.”
“Hmm.”
Her eyes lids felt weighted and she found herself unable to remain conscious and drifted off quickly into a deep sleep.