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theWatcher
Moon
- Joined
- Oct 17, 2021
- Location
- The Multiverse
One
Dairen woke at the sound of the roosters crowing. He didn't move a muscle except to open his eyes. He looked at the room as the light of dusk started to creep in. Dairen closed his eyes again and reached out with his other senses. He wanted to savour the feeling of being hugged by the widow, Sorcha, from behind as he slept. He could feel her ample bosom pressing against his shoulder blades, her thigh hooked over his like she never wanted to let him leave. Dairen wanted the same thing. He would have married Sorcha and made their relationship official if the law permitted it. He didn't want to compete in the games that day. But then again, he had never met anyone that did. If he won, Dairen would venture into the heart of the forest. Nobody knew what happened when the winner reached the heart, because they were never seen or heard from again. If he lost, he would be bought by one of the other four villages that formed the Pentamun, five communes surrounding the Great Green Sea. No matter what happened. This would be his last morning with the woman that he had found a sliver of happiness with after he himself was widowed.
Moving his leg to scratch and itch, Dairen felt the arm and leg dropped over him tighten ever so slightly. "How long have you been awake?" He whispered and felt a gust of warm breath caress his face. "Since well before dawn," came a soft reply that almost tapered to an inaudible volume before the last syllable. "It's not fair! Haven't we suffered enough?" Sorcha suddenly erupted, sounding like she was going to start sobbing.
"Shhhh, we always knew that it would come to this. I passed my fortieth ciren the summer before last. I have no wife and no dependants. It is the Pact. You know we cannot disobey the Pact," Dairen said as he turned to face his lover. He looked into the slate-coloured eyes of his de facto wife. Her earthy brown hair was flecked with strands of grey. It steamed back in the pillow behind her as she held and looked at the man that she had fallen in love with after her husband was slain by one of the beasts of the forest. Neither of them had planned it to happen; the widower had simply helped the widow out of kindness in the beginning. He knew exactly how she felt, and it also returned some meaning to his life outside of his mundane work as a furniture maker.
The couple had made love the night before. Their last night together. Dairen hated seeing anyone sad, Sorcha most of all. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, softly at first to remind her that he was still there, that he was still hers. Alone in bed together, it was natural for Dairen to become hungrier, his kisses and hand moving to Sorcha's ass, indicating that he wanted her one last time while he had the chance. His lover would feel him swell against her thick thigh.
"No, Dair, you need your strength," Sorcha whined as her man kissed her neck while he kneaded her ass with one hand. She wanted him too, but also she didn't want to see him become a slave to another commune. She wanted to feel pride at seeing him leave the victor of the games. "You have been my strength for so long now, Sor," Dairen mumbled into her neck as he tried his hardest to persuade his lover by teasing her body just the way he liked it.
After a groan indicating that she had relented, Sorcha rose to prop herself on one elbow and look down at Dairen. "I don't know why I will miss such an insufferable man," she said with a grin and threw one of her thick thighs over her lover to mount him. She teased herself against his erect cock as she leaned down and kissed him, her large breasts sitting on his chest. Moments later, her hand guided Dairen to her entrance and Sorcha pushed herself down onto him with a moan. A grin filled Dairen's face when he felt how hot and wet Sorcha had been for him, even though she had been trying to deny him.
"You just lie back and save your strength," Sorcha said as she moved her hips. She looked down on her man. They would shave off that mop of brown hair and his beard and moustache before the games. The slaves, men who had lost their games in other communes, would perform the rite. Sorcha wanted to be the one to do it, but of course, there was the Pact to consider. "Of course, my dear," Dairen said, still grinning. His hands were kneading Sorcha's breasts, holding them up against gravity as he teased her nipples with his thumbs. He had planted his feet into the bed and was grinding his hips up into her as she fell down onto him. Both of their movements became more frantic, a sign that they were close to release. Finally, Dairen sat up, wrapping his arms around Sorcha. He kissed her and used his body weight to pull her down to the bed on top of him. Dairen's hips worked faster, Sorcha's grinding more violent, then they moaned into each other's mouths as they shared their final climax together. Dairen stayed deep inside Sorcha, filling her with his seed. They had done that countless times over the last five ciren. For whatever reason, their love had never borne fruit. Even out of wedlock, a young child would have spared Dairen from the games, but that was never to be his fate.
"I will always love you, Sor. No matter what happens. If I go into the sea, or another commune. You will always be in my heart and thoughts," Dairen whispered to Sorcha as they cuddled in the afterglow of their lovemaking. There were more noises from outside now, the sun fully risen. The pair knew that they may have woken Sorcha's two children, but they were of an age to understand; her son, the eldest, soon to take Dairen's trade of furniture making in his place. A clanking gong that sounded like a pan hit with a stick sounded. The alert that the men of the games would have an out to present themselves within the hour. The town centre would be like a trade fair. Stalls to sell or trade wares with the visitors from the other communes. The games at spring solstice were the only time that the communes mingled.
In the centre of the vast forest known as The Great Green Sea, another alarm sounded. Pebbles dropped from a ceramic water timer onto copper cymbals to rouse the only occupant of the small cottage from her meditation. In the centre of a circular, grassy clearing sat the woman, naked as a newborn babe. Her long red hair was arranged in a loose braid that trailed down her back as she sat there kneeling on the grass. Slowly she opened her eyes and stood. White, fibrous strands that seemed to connect her shins and feet to the earth broke as she stood. It was almost like the fungi in the soil had grown and joined to her. She nonchalantly brushed them away as she moved towards the cabin a stone's throw from the clearing.
Liora headed into her small cabin house. She would need to rest before the games. Listening took its toll on her, and it was dangerous if she did it for too long. She had learned that the hard way. That was the reason for the water clock. Before the games, she was always alone, but that would soon change. Liora smiled as she ate some bread, dipping it in oil and herbs for flavour. She closed her eyes and tried to make better sense of what she had heard. One thing shone through though. This ciren, the games looked promising. The most promising in over a hundred ciren if her memory served.
Dairen woke at the sound of the roosters crowing. He didn't move a muscle except to open his eyes. He looked at the room as the light of dusk started to creep in. Dairen closed his eyes again and reached out with his other senses. He wanted to savour the feeling of being hugged by the widow, Sorcha, from behind as he slept. He could feel her ample bosom pressing against his shoulder blades, her thigh hooked over his like she never wanted to let him leave. Dairen wanted the same thing. He would have married Sorcha and made their relationship official if the law permitted it. He didn't want to compete in the games that day. But then again, he had never met anyone that did. If he won, Dairen would venture into the heart of the forest. Nobody knew what happened when the winner reached the heart, because they were never seen or heard from again. If he lost, he would be bought by one of the other four villages that formed the Pentamun, five communes surrounding the Great Green Sea. No matter what happened. This would be his last morning with the woman that he had found a sliver of happiness with after he himself was widowed.
Moving his leg to scratch and itch, Dairen felt the arm and leg dropped over him tighten ever so slightly. "How long have you been awake?" He whispered and felt a gust of warm breath caress his face. "Since well before dawn," came a soft reply that almost tapered to an inaudible volume before the last syllable. "It's not fair! Haven't we suffered enough?" Sorcha suddenly erupted, sounding like she was going to start sobbing.
"Shhhh, we always knew that it would come to this. I passed my fortieth ciren the summer before last. I have no wife and no dependants. It is the Pact. You know we cannot disobey the Pact," Dairen said as he turned to face his lover. He looked into the slate-coloured eyes of his de facto wife. Her earthy brown hair was flecked with strands of grey. It steamed back in the pillow behind her as she held and looked at the man that she had fallen in love with after her husband was slain by one of the beasts of the forest. Neither of them had planned it to happen; the widower had simply helped the widow out of kindness in the beginning. He knew exactly how she felt, and it also returned some meaning to his life outside of his mundane work as a furniture maker.
The couple had made love the night before. Their last night together. Dairen hated seeing anyone sad, Sorcha most of all. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, softly at first to remind her that he was still there, that he was still hers. Alone in bed together, it was natural for Dairen to become hungrier, his kisses and hand moving to Sorcha's ass, indicating that he wanted her one last time while he had the chance. His lover would feel him swell against her thick thigh.
"No, Dair, you need your strength," Sorcha whined as her man kissed her neck while he kneaded her ass with one hand. She wanted him too, but also she didn't want to see him become a slave to another commune. She wanted to feel pride at seeing him leave the victor of the games. "You have been my strength for so long now, Sor," Dairen mumbled into her neck as he tried his hardest to persuade his lover by teasing her body just the way he liked it.
After a groan indicating that she had relented, Sorcha rose to prop herself on one elbow and look down at Dairen. "I don't know why I will miss such an insufferable man," she said with a grin and threw one of her thick thighs over her lover to mount him. She teased herself against his erect cock as she leaned down and kissed him, her large breasts sitting on his chest. Moments later, her hand guided Dairen to her entrance and Sorcha pushed herself down onto him with a moan. A grin filled Dairen's face when he felt how hot and wet Sorcha had been for him, even though she had been trying to deny him.
"You just lie back and save your strength," Sorcha said as she moved her hips. She looked down on her man. They would shave off that mop of brown hair and his beard and moustache before the games. The slaves, men who had lost their games in other communes, would perform the rite. Sorcha wanted to be the one to do it, but of course, there was the Pact to consider. "Of course, my dear," Dairen said, still grinning. His hands were kneading Sorcha's breasts, holding them up against gravity as he teased her nipples with his thumbs. He had planted his feet into the bed and was grinding his hips up into her as she fell down onto him. Both of their movements became more frantic, a sign that they were close to release. Finally, Dairen sat up, wrapping his arms around Sorcha. He kissed her and used his body weight to pull her down to the bed on top of him. Dairen's hips worked faster, Sorcha's grinding more violent, then they moaned into each other's mouths as they shared their final climax together. Dairen stayed deep inside Sorcha, filling her with his seed. They had done that countless times over the last five ciren. For whatever reason, their love had never borne fruit. Even out of wedlock, a young child would have spared Dairen from the games, but that was never to be his fate.
"I will always love you, Sor. No matter what happens. If I go into the sea, or another commune. You will always be in my heart and thoughts," Dairen whispered to Sorcha as they cuddled in the afterglow of their lovemaking. There were more noises from outside now, the sun fully risen. The pair knew that they may have woken Sorcha's two children, but they were of an age to understand; her son, the eldest, soon to take Dairen's trade of furniture making in his place. A clanking gong that sounded like a pan hit with a stick sounded. The alert that the men of the games would have an out to present themselves within the hour. The town centre would be like a trade fair. Stalls to sell or trade wares with the visitors from the other communes. The games at spring solstice were the only time that the communes mingled.
———
In the centre of the vast forest known as The Great Green Sea, another alarm sounded. Pebbles dropped from a ceramic water timer onto copper cymbals to rouse the only occupant of the small cottage from her meditation. In the centre of a circular, grassy clearing sat the woman, naked as a newborn babe. Her long red hair was arranged in a loose braid that trailed down her back as she sat there kneeling on the grass. Slowly she opened her eyes and stood. White, fibrous strands that seemed to connect her shins and feet to the earth broke as she stood. It was almost like the fungi in the soil had grown and joined to her. She nonchalantly brushed them away as she moved towards the cabin a stone's throw from the clearing.
Liora headed into her small cabin house. She would need to rest before the games. Listening took its toll on her, and it was dangerous if she did it for too long. She had learned that the hard way. That was the reason for the water clock. Before the games, she was always alone, but that would soon change. Liora smiled as she ate some bread, dipping it in oil and herbs for flavour. She closed her eyes and tried to make better sense of what she had heard. One thing shone through though. This ciren, the games looked promising. The most promising in over a hundred ciren if her memory served.