Story Discussion: Black Tulip, 2-14-05, "Dear Hunting"

[Black Tulip]

Update: the story is still in the proces of being written.
At the moment it's over 10,000 words.

So any comment is still welcome.

 

[Penelope Street]

Did we get a new version?

 

[Thorntak]

Should you?

Yes, I think you should. Go with your own intuition. In you heart you know what needs to left out and added in. I wonder how the girl experiences this. Maybe that could add a little something . . . . .

 

[Black Tulip]

I changed a lot in the first version, following the comments and tips I got from all of you. And I changed to the girls perspective once they reached the tribe.

What's keeping me from finishing it is how the ritual should go. Not clear on that yet.
So, maybe over the next few weeks when work is dying down a bit.

 

[HawaiiBill]

Cavemen had mothers, too

It is disturbing to read the broadly held assumption that 'cavemen' probably had no tenderness. Who says?

In the first place, they had a culture that survived and grew in sophistication through the generations. We know that from the artifacts in every museum. We know from some cave drawings that there was a family life. We probably know it even more dramtically, if given a chance to think about it, that women were equally important in shaping the culture and sensitivities as the men. How else could the infants survive? How else could the groups and families thrive and grow in numbers? Isn't there tenderness among the great apes? Yes.

There is infanticide, however, in many species. Male lions, for example, kill cubs spawned by an aged and deposed alpha lion to force the pride's lionesses to go into heat. That's a fact shared by other species but not, apparently, by our nearer relatives the monkeys. If you don't know that sex for them is fun it's time you need to make another trip to a zoo.

BT's exploratiion of what might have been her characters' thoughts and practices about sex is a welcome departure from the 'caveman as family brute' notion that a few have expressed here.

I also part company on likely cleanliness. Clearly they were a little short on our idea of soap and other niceties but just as they watched animals fucking merrily in the woods, they also saw them scampering about in the water and that probably made a point in the aromatic difference between newly bathed and killed prey and the hyenas which, I understand, don't feel comfortable in water. Big cats do bathe, you should note, but hyena's and vultures stink, I'm sure.

The unfortunate among us who have permanent and redolent body odor are not necessarily stupid. The trait they seem to share is more a mental imbalance. Homeless women -- in some cases -- use strong body odor as a protective shield against assault as most social work documents in case studies attest. But odor in nature -- good or bad -- is a danger, alerting hunting carnivores to the presence of prey. To grow old, animals must clean themselves and that would include man in the wild. Isn't that the case in virtually all 'primitive' tribes? Yes.

 

[Black Tulip]

It's done! The story is finished, but it grew to 14. 258 words.

And I'm dying to know what you all think of it now.

I'll be good though, so I'll wait for the thumbs up from Pure to post the new version.

 

[HawaiiBill]

Where do we find your story, as finished?

It's done! The story is finished, but it grew to 14. 258 words.

And I'm dying to know what you all think of it now.

I'll be good though, so I'll wait for the thumbs up from Pure to post the new version.

I don't know where to find the story. Maybe you should send me the .doc file!

 

[Black Tulip]

LOL

I only worked through your editing last weekend.
It isn't posted anywhere at the moment.

 

[HawaiiBill]

Want to read you

Dearest, just send me the .doc file. Easier for me to read on screen that way. Wild Willy

 

[Guest]

I think you already have all the useful advice you can stomach at this point, but since I'm trying to participate, here's my two cents (adjusted for inflation).

This read like a fantasy written down, which is sort of a two way street. If someone else digs your fantasy, you're golden. However, if they don't, you're sunk. Just writing down a fantasy isn't usually enough to give something a wide appeal -- at least, a wider appeal than you and perhaps three other people. There wasn't much of a hook, because this story is very specific, very pointed, and very small in it's range.

I had a hard time even reading it, in part because I'm super picky and in part because, well, there wasn't much room for me to get into the story. There wasn't anything pulling me forward, no question to be answered, no unknown to be revealed. The ending was telegraphed well ahead and there was no overwhelming style or situation or other magic to pull me along despite that. I've read non-consent before and the ones I like tend to be fairly involved with a lot of mental game playing and so forth. This one is pretty simple. with the whole story being directed toward the guys getting each other worked up over this woman.

The dialog, too, was...kinda painful. If you try to read it out loud to yourself, I think you'll hear it. That put me off reading it.

It's sort of like watching an Arnold Schwartzenagger movie -- either you buy into his super human abilities to have millions of bullets shot at him and never get hit, or you don't. If you can, you have a great time. The more believeable the movie makes his invulnerability, the easier it is to enjoy the movie. If the movie makers don't work very hard and lean on the watcher's desire to just swallow everything whole, they leave out a lot of people. As a writer, that's the choice you have to make -- are you going to lean on the reader to buy into everything you say just because you say it, or are you going to work hard to win their trust and belief so that they slip into your story without having to work at it?

The point is, though, that if this is your fantasy you are sharing, then all you really need to do is shine it up some and let it go. Other people will hook in or not. IN MY OPINION -- which is worth exactly nothing to most people -- fantasy is very personal, and getting anyone else involved and interested takes a lot of work, usually pulling in stuff and thinking well beyond the scope of the fantasy. Now, there is nothing wrong with that. A fantasy is about the fuck, no more, no less. Once you get there, you're done.

If you want to make this into a STORY -- something more involved than just a written fantasy -- then there needs to be a goal beyond the fuck. There needs to be a compelling reason to follow these characters aside from just watching them have sex.

The choice is up to you. Once you know what YOU want, then you can take some of this fine advice people are giving you, or you can just ignore it and post. You are the writer and you have the ultimate power to make this what you want it to be.

Good luck.

 

[Black Tulip]

Hi malachiteink,

Thank you for taking the trouble to read and comment.
You were quite right about the load of advise I already got.

It took quite a folder of printed pages to get it all worked in.
But I did and I had the story rewritten accordingly.
Right now you can't find the new version anywhere, because I'm waiting for Pure to give me the go ahead.

I don't want to post it without his approval as I've been away for a long time so I haven't been doing my share of giving critiques.

 

[Pure]

this thread is bumped

so that black can post her revised tome or some part of it.

 

[Black Tulip]

Since it got a bit out of hand I will post the story in two parts.

First is the rewrite of the original story: (some 7.000 words)

------------

Dear Hunting

Dawn painted the sky a faint pink tinged with orange. As the sun slowly lit the sky to a pearly white, it became obvious it would be another day filled with mist and cold. It was nearly time to celebrate but there was no sign yet of ice retreating from the summer plains. The tribe would have a hard time finding eggs to honor the creation of the ‘Egg that Started the World’ and pray for the rejuvenation of all things.

Lar looked at the sky and frowned, snow seemed probable later in the day. He closed the flap of his tent behind him. At the sound of boots crunching on the frozen snow he turned his head and watched his hunting partners emerge from their own tents. Ior was still tying his pants as he stepped outside with a big grin on his broad face. No doubt he had started the day with greeting his woman in a proper way. Lar sighed and gazed at Kur. Like Lar the smaller man had no woman of his own and he eyed Ior and his woman with something akin to envy.

Together they walked to the rest of the tribe, gathered to see the three hunters off. The few men who stayed behind would have a hard time providing for their mates and the handful of children but they knew just as well as the Old Man himself it was necessary.

After shouldering his bundle of furs and supplies, Lar focused his attention on the Old Man standing in front of them. He was bent with age but his blue eyes were still bright between the tendrils of white hair that escaped his braid. He raised gnarled hands that were surprisingly strong when he thumped Lar’s legs, his arms and his chest. Each thump accompanied by the sound of his wheezing voice.

“Swift, strong, successful.”

He blessed Kur and Ior in the same fashion and Lar felt proud to be part of such an important mission. As he watched he wondered what the Old Man had looked like in his youth. He found it hard to see him as something other than the Old Man who cared for all and guarded the tales of the tribe. Yet at some time he had been a superior hunter who fathered many sons. That must have been countless turnings ago however, because most of his sons had gone on to the halls of the All-Father, the biggest hunter of all.

The Old Man cast a sharp glance toward Ior. “Make sure they pick strong mates. Remember: wide hips and a strong back. They have to bear lots of sons.”

The sound of women and children clapping their hands and stamping their feet together with the cheering of the remaining hunters finally sent them on their way.

Ior looked smug despite the solemn occasion. The Old Man had chosen him to come along. He had to make sure both unpaired hunters would pick a sensible female. Since he already had a mate, the Old Man had given him the task to guide their choice. He now led the way as they took the path south to be up on the ice river before the sun was at its highest.

“Watch out, to the right.”

Lar stepped aside and used the butt of his bone spear to test the snow. The drifts sometimes covered rents in the ice and the going was slow.

“I hope Haf and Rom are happy, maybe running with the Great Hunter in the sky.”

Both men had disappeared down such a gash to be captured inside the glacier forever. Lar was glad they had only one sun of traveling across the ice. After they had crossed the ice-river the going would be easier or, at least, less hazardous.

By the time the sun was at its highest point the three of them were squinting at the sky. The yellow disc was disappearing behind a curtain of gray, causing a weird light that seemed to light up the landscape.

"It will be snowing shortly. Do we shelter?" Ior looked at the others, his pale eyebrows raised in question.

Kur shrugged. "I say we go on. We can have a shelter up in a few beats."

Lar nodded. "I agree. We better get as far as we can." He grinned suddenly, his blue eyes sparkling. "The sooner we find some hot little grottos the better."

His friends laughed with him and the three of them continued south until the snow started falling. Most of it had passed them overhead so it was close to sundown when they halted next to a large snowbank. It was a matter of moments to dig out a space big enough for the three of them and seal it off with a few hides. Making sure the wind would stay out was the most work. While Lar and Ior took care of the shelter, the stout but smaller Kur proceeded to make fire with the meager supply of moss and twigs they had carried with them.

As darkness fell, the three of them sat huddled around the flames of their tiny fire, their hands around a horn of fermented berry juice and their bellies filled with strips of meat. The falling snow muffled all sounds and there was nothing to hear except the occasional crackle of the fire. Staring at the dancing sparks, Lar finally voiced the question that had been eating away at him ever since last summer, when Ior had managed to catch the gentle Heg.

"What is it like? To feel a woman's body I mean."

Ior cleared his throat. "I guess there’s no harm in telling you."

Kur mumbled his assent and Lar nodded too.

"Well, I suppose you two have seen a woman's body." Ior snickered. "In fact, I know you have. I was there with you when we spied on our girls. But you haven't touched, have you?"

For a moment his face turned from serious to anxious. Looking was perhaps frowned upon, but touching was absolutely forbidden. No man or woman should join their flesh with the members of their own tribe. The punishment for that was to be cast out, immediately. Even touching was looked upon as a severe crime; one Ior would have to deal with no matter his personal relationship with the perpetrator.

"Do I look like an idiot?" Lar snorted in disgust that Ior even asked such a question.

Kur popped his knuckles. "I won't deny I've thought about it - once - but no. I love life too much."

"Good." Ior shifted on his pelt. "I like to touch and taste Heg's mounds. And when I do, her teats get all hard and big and she starts moaning. She likes it too."

Lar felt his body reacting to Ior's words. The thought of touching a woman's teats was exciting and his rod lifted its head.

"I found out that it is best to make sure Heg likes what I do to her body. The secret place between her legs gets all wet and hot then." Ior licked his lips and one hand found its way toward his crotch, covering the growing bulge. "I usually feel with my fingers how wet she is and she likes me playing between her legs. Sometimes she even cries out just from my fingers going in and out of her slit. If she is very wet it's easier to slide into her. I like it better too."

Lar swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment as his hand found his stiffening flesh and pulled it out of his leathers. He stroked his hot rod as he listened to Ior's voice telling them how soft and slippery and hot a woman feels when you plunge into her grotto. The sounds around him made it clear both Ior and Kur were pleasuring themselves as well. He opened his eyes again and looked at his friends. For a moment it was just like old times, the three of them jerking off, comparing sizes and fantasies.

It wasn't like old times though. With a jolt of jealousy he looked at Ior. He could stick his long and skinny thing inside Heg any time he wanted. The sudden image that thought provoked made Lar pump a bit faster and he heard himself moaning a bit.

"Have you ever done anything else to her?" The breathless question came from Kur. He was the smallest of the three friends, but his body was stocky and his rod matched the rest of him. Not very long but sturdy and right now the head was swollen and purple-red as Kur handled it with firm movements.

Lar watched Ior grin as he stretched the skin of his long pole. It looked as if Kur's question had called up a pleasant memory and it took a nudge from him to bring Ior back to answering him.

"Apart from kissing and feeling her mounds? And fingering her slit? Well ... once I licked her there too."

Kur nearly choked. "You mean ... between her legs?"

Ior chuckled and let his hand run back and forth across his rod with slow deliberate movements, his thumb touching the tip and smearing the pre-cum over the entire length.

"Oh yes, but Heg said it was not natural."

The image of Ior licking Heg between her legs was a powerful one, and before long Lar saw his seed spurt into the snow, closely followed by Ior's and Kur's. Soon after they all wrapped themselves in pelts and Kur and Ior closed their eyes while Lar took first watch.

Next morning the sky was again that peculiar shade of gray that comes with more snow in the air and the white expanse gave off an uncanny light, reflecting against the underside of the clouds. If they were lucky they would find the trail that would lead them to the trading grounds before more snow came down. Lar sighed. After the story telling by Ior last night he couldn't wait to find his own woman. Dreaming with his eyes open, he followed his friends down the side of the ice river and across the snow, ever going south.

It took them a full hand of suns to reach the trading grounds. The trail had been easy to follow and it had been clear to all of them that lots of people had been going one way or the other in the past moon. Ior was the only one of them who had been there before and he had been lecturing them on the do’s and don’ts of dealing with the odd people from the south.

“Honest. Some of them have black hair. And brown eyes.” Ior sounded a bit angry because Kur and Lar wouldn’t believe him. “They have. And I heard their females are different, you know, down there.”

Lar grinned. Ior was always trying to pull their leg and he was not about to fall for that again. “Sure. Maybe their slit is the other way around?”

“Huh?” Ior frowned. He obviously tried to work it out in his head.

“I think we found it.” Kur sounded excited and he pointed ahead.

Lar and Ior forgot their bickering as they gazed in the direction Kur pointed. In the distance they could see a haze hanging over the landscape, no doubt caused by fires. After walking for the rest of that sun they could make out the shapes of tents. They had found the trading place.

Nothing could have prepared Lar or Kur for the sight that awaited them. The number of tents was more than both their hands, maybe even as much as the hands of all three of them. That alone was awesome, so many tents together. But even more impressive was the size and shape of some of the shelters. Instead of bowed down to the earth like the dome of the sky, there were tents that seemed to spear the sky with a sharp point and there were even stranger shelters that looked like someone had cut squares from the earth and stacked them on top of each other.

Those made from the squares of earth looked bigger and Lar guessed they were built by traders who planned to stay at the trading grounds for the whole summer. Ior had told them some of the traders did that. They left with the first cold of winter and returned every year with the thawing of the ice. Bringing wondrous things of metal in exchange for furs and woodwork and amber.

The three hunters explored the trading grounds thoroughly before they decided on a spot to put up their small tent. Their traditional shelter was no more than some skins pulled taut across a frame of saplings. The form resembled the bowl of the sky just as the gray and white of the wolf’s skins was meant to match the heavens. Just the way it was supposed to be.

Lar frowned as he tried to think the oddness of the trading place through. The Old Man always told them down here had to be the same as up there. It’s what the Great Hunter had told the tribes in the days he was hunting the earth. Didn’t those traders knew that? Perhaps they didn’t. He hadn’t seen a single Old Man anywhere on the trading grounds.

Not used to so many sounds and smells and impressions the hunters retired early, trying to find peace in their sleep. The next morning the three of them were up early, greeting the new sun as it crept in the sky in a pool of red and purple. After some discussion they let fate decide which one of them would stay behind to guard their trading supply. Ior of course had to go and Lar was the lucky one to go with him. They left a scowling Kur behind as they went in search of females.

On their round of the previous sun Ior had pointed a few traders out to them, saying they would perhaps sell some of the servants they had brought with them. Lar wondered how Ior knew. He had not seen anything special.

“Ior? Why do you think this trader will sell his servants?”

“Ah, didn’t I tell you?” Ior looked smug. “See the band of iron around their throats? Take a close look. See the ring? It’s used to tie them up at night. They are slaves.”

Lar frowned. “Slaves? I’m not sure that would make for good breeding. I mean, a female who has been subdued by another?”

Ior shrugged. “It would perhaps be good to get one with young, that way we know she can breed for sure. And in a way we would be bringing new blood to the tribe too.”

Lar was not convinced. Well, he knew Ior was right in his reasoning but it felt wrong to him. Deep in his heart he still wanted to find a mate in the old way. Spending a summer with another tribe to get to know the young females, learning about their skills and temperament before choosing one. He sighed; it was not going to happen for him, or for Kur either. And now Ior was telling him that showing the tribe the new blood he brought in might be out as well.

A shove from Ior woke him up to the present. They were standing in front of one of the earth shelters and as they watched a strange looking man stepped outside. He was thin and his skin looked odd, as if he had been lying in the sun too long, dry and a bit brownish. And his hair! Lar gasped as he saw Ior had been speaking the truth about dark hair, and brown eyes too.

“Warriors.” The odd man clearly addressed them. “What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you?”

Lar was baffled by the man and his behavior. His voice sounded like spring slush, soft but treacherous and he bared his teeth in a smile as if they were from the same tribe. Lar almost expected him to touch them and scowled. But even more disturbing was his manner of dress. Ior had warned them not everybody at the fair would be dressed in leathers and furs. But Lar had somehow thought that was only for females. A hunter wearing a colored shirt? And bands of beads around his wrists? His hair was short too, hacked off. Lar studied him but could not understand him wearing beads and trinkets if the man was mourning the loss of a loved one, yet his braid was clearly cut off.

More convinced by the strangeness of the trader than by the words of Ior along their way, Lar stood by and merely listened to Ior. This was something he knew nothing about.

“Uh, we’re hunters. From the tribe of Ull from Ugg. Are you trading slaves?”

The trader made a movement as if washing his hands. “Ahhh, hunters. You’ve come to the right man. I am Jarig, uh … from beyond the plains.” He smiled even broader at them. “Slaves, huh?”

He winked and bent closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You have come at the right time. I have two servants I can spare. If you have something of value to give in return?”

Ior demanded to see the slaves first and the trader bellowed something in a strange guttural tongue. As they emerged from the shelter Lar had trouble to keep from laughing out loud. In front of them stood a couple of lanky youths, their faces sullen and both of them clearly male.

As they made their way to another trader Lar was still chuckling. That didn’t last long though. Wherever they went, the only slaves to be had were male. There were no females on offer. Perhaps they were too late? All females already carried off by the other tribes? By the end of the sun they returned to Kur with dusty throats and empty hands.

By the light of the setting sun they sat in front of their simple shelter, each occupied by his own thoughts. “What use were the magnificent pelts they had with them if there were no females to trade them for?” Lar worried.

“We cannot return without mates, we simply can’t. Besides, the Old Man told us he saw success for us. Hadn’t the spirits told him so in his dreams? When did spirits ever lie?”

Kur shrugged. “Maybe the spirits did not mean this summer? Everybody knows spirits are not bound by the sun and the moon.”

“I need to stretch my legs and fill my chest with properly fresh air.”

Lar was still worried when he got up to wander to the outskirts of the trading place before going to sleep. He felt restless, ill at ease in the midst of so many people. After a look back at Ior and Kur he walked out onto the plain, his back towards the knot of humanity.

Filled with a new sense of purpose, the secure knowledge they would succeed, Lar returned to his hunting brothers. Both Kur and Ior were still awake, but the fire was already out and they lay wrapped in their furs.

“I know I’ve been away a long time but I bring back welcome news. There’s no need to worry. I know we will succeed. You see … I made a small offering to the Earth Mother. Asking her for help.”

Kur raised his eyebrows and Lar shrugged. “I figured it wouldn’t do any harm. Besides, aren’t females supposed to be close to her?”

Kur nodded, but at first he and Ior were merely skeptical, unwilling to trust Lar’s fantastic tale. But Lar kept assuring them it was really true, so they allowed themselves to get some hope. Finally all of them settled for the night with a light heart, filled with anticipation and eager for the new sun to come.

Hardly able to contain their eagerness the three hunters packed up their tent to follow the little boy that had been guiding Lar the night before as well.

“I told you. We are expected at the meeting ground of a clan of gatherers that lives nearby. Last night I spoke with one of their hunters. They do not want to mingle with the traders.”

Ior was looking distrustful as he eyed the boy. “Is that why your clan stays away from the trading grounds? And they want to speak with us, urgently?”

The boy just nodded and followed a path none of the hunters could see. They looked at each other and Ior raised his shoulders as if to say, he didn’t know what to make of it either. All of them had heard of gatherers. They were clans that lived in the same place all year round. It was even said they were able to coax food from the earth itself. Some folks believed they were rewarded that way because they worshipped the Earth Mother above all else.

Lar shook his head. How could that be? Wasn’t the All-Father the ultimate guide for all of mankind? Providing his faithful sons with game to go without hunger? It was what the Old Man had taught them their whole life. And the Old Man was the wisest man Lar knew.

It took them no more than half a sun’s walking to reach a dense growth of lavender bushes. The boy showed them a faint trail that wound its way around the overgrown stems and gestured for them to enter the thicket. He vanished without a trace after they had taken no more than a hand of steps.

On their guard but not alarmed the hunters followed the trail to the heart of the vegetation. The air was still and they could hear some birds singing close by. As they neared the center they could even hear the faint splash of water and a soft murmur of voices. Lar grinned at his companions. The hunter he had spoken last night had told them they needed mates for their young women. If all went well they would be leaving for their home grounds this sun in the company of mates for Kur and himself.

The sight that awaited them was stunning. In the heart of the bushes was a small pool, the clear water reflecting the sunlight. The tall grasses on the banks gave off a sweet smell and to one side stood a twisted piece of wood, shaped as if it were a woman with her arms in the air to bless whoever stood in front of her.

In front of this strange thing stood an old woman. Her hair was unbound as if she were a young girl, not yet mated. Her body was covered by a piece of cloth the color of a summer sky, the blue a vibrant splash among the greens and grays. The old woman wore numerous rings on her arms; all made from dull orange metal and blue beads adorned her ears and throat.

The minute the three hunters stepped into the clearing the old woman lifted a hand to stop them from advancing further. The men were surprised by the gesture. Looking around they saw a small group of women and a few men, but all looked at the old crone. It seemed true then, that these gatherers had given over their powers to women.

Lar and Kur exchanged glances and both looked at Ior, hoping he would be wise enough to obey the old woman. This could very well be their only chance to get a mate. With a sigh they saw Ior apply the rules he had been drilling into them till they were bored to death. Follow the local customs, no matter what. It seemed he was even willing to go so far as to heed an old woman.

Standing at the edge of the clearing the men looked curiously at the gathering in front of them. It was clear the old woman had some sort of power. She stood alone and the rest of her clan or tribe kept a respectful distance. The men however held spears at the ready. Lar narrowed his eyes. Was this a trap? Or were they merely careful?

The women, who had been talking quietly, turned around and stared at the three hunters. Lar shifted a bit, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of that many eyes. Female eyes at that. Without thinking he scowled. Women shouldn’t be staring that boldly, not at free hunters. But perhaps they were all available? Just like the old woman, they all had their hair unbound. Surely there were not that many unmated females in one clan?

A closer inspection showed Lar that apart from the old woman in front of the gathering, there was one hand of men with spears. Probably guarding the place. Of the other women again a hand looked old and had their hair unbound. The rest of them, a third hand or a bit more, were younger. They all had their hair braided but all of them were wearing those odd metal rings around their arms. Did that mean they were slaves? Surely nobody would spend so much precious metal on a mere slave?

With a jolt Lar realized the old woman was motioning for them to come forward. She had been studying them the same way they had been studying the group of gatherers.

“You.” She pointed at Lar. Perhaps because he was the tallest. “You look for mates?”

She used the same words as his own tribe and the other tribes of his people, but the sound was different, as if she were speaking with river stones in her mouth. It was difficult to understand her.

Lar looked at Ior and Kur, and shrugged a bit helplessly. It looked as if this was to be his task. Somehow that was appropriate; the offering to the Earth Mother had been his after all. He took a step forward and nodded at the old woman, looking down into the wrinkled but kind face. To his surprise her eyes were a smoky gray, the color of the sky at sunset.

Again she pointed at Lar. “A mate? For you?”

Lar nodded. “Yes, for me.” He made a gesture towards Kur. “And for him.”

“Sit and talk. They too.”

The old woman sounded surprisingly similar to the Old Man. Her voice clearly used to giving commands and Lar sat down, expecting Kur and Ior to join him.

“I am the Mother. You understand that?”

“Do you think she means that these people have an Old Woman instead of an Old Man?” Kur sounded faintly shocked.

“Not Old Woman, Mother.”

Lar thought he heard a faint laughter beneath her words, but it was gone before he could be sure.
She waved a gnarled hand at the other people. “My children. I take care of my children.”

It took a few moments before Lar realized what she was trying to tell them.

“Your children? You are mother to all of them?” When the old woman nodded, he went on. “Only daughters? Where are your sons?”

A sad look passed over the wrinkled face. “The traders. All slaves.”

The three hunters looked at each other in alarm. The traders took males from the clans in the neighborhood? For a moment they forgot the reason for their being here. What about their own safety? Perhaps they had been marked down for slavery as well?

“The traders hunt for slaves?” Lar sounded incredulous.

“Yes.” The old woman spat on the ground. A sign the hunters could understand only too well.

“Too many daughters for the clan. You need daughters?”

“Mates. We need mates.”

“Yes, daughters.”

It took some effort before Lar and the Mother understood each other. Apparently she called all members of her clan her children and she was offering them mates. There were too many single females now that the traders had taken most of their young men away. It was impossible to defend them all and feeding that many mouths was a burden as well.

Lar looked to Kur and Ior but both of them nodded; it was his tale to tell.

“The Old Man, he is like a father to us?”

The woman in front of him frowned, but nodded that she understood what Lar was trying to tell her.

“He told us to go south, to find the dwellers. The spirits told him they would trade with us. We are hunters.” Lar hesitated, then decided to tell her all. “We go west or east to find mates in the proper way. But the winter was harsh. Those tribes will be whittled down like our own. It would be no use, they have no females, no … daughters to spare.”

Lar sighed. He knew it had to be this way. He merely wished it had been possible to spend a summer with some of the other tribes, finding a female with skills and an acceptable body as well.

“The Old Man? He told us to be back for the festivities of Spring Equinox, to celebrate the creation of the “Egg that Started the World”, the source of all life. He hopes the Earth Mother will bless us with young if we couple during the celebration.”

Kur and Ior were following the conversation with avid interest. Finally the old woman wanted to see what they were offering in return. With a broad grin on his face Kur jumped up and opened one of the packs. Ior pulled out the magnificent pure white hide of a snow fox, followed by the silky gray fur of a wolf. Both animals were hard to hunt without damaging the skin and the Old Man had been confident each would be enough to trade for a female.

Lar found it difficult to trade with an old woman. Never in his life had he done something like that, never. And he soon found out there was good reason for avoiding it. The Mother drove a hard bargain. She was making it clear there would be only one female in exchange for the two furs. Lar did his best but the only thing he could get her to concede was that they could pick the girl they wanted.

Lar felt his heart thumping and his breath came in gasps from the excitement that was building inside him. The girls that stepped forward looked ripe for the taking. Their reddish-blond hair was bound but it seemed to indicate they were not yet paired. The gatherers had different ways. They all looked healthy with nice firm curves beneath the cloth that covered them. He grinned in anticipation.

Kur and Ior both climbed to their feet to inspect the girls up close and Lar followed behind them. A glance at the Mother showed him an impassive face. She looked as if she had already said goodbye to the girls. The other women left in a single file without looking back once. They would know soon enough which of the girls was taken away to a new life, a life among the hunters of the north.

Finally they settled on one of the more robust girls. She looked healthy and full of life with broad hips and an ample pair of mounds. Her hair in a thick braid reached down to the small of her back and she looked at them with curiosity. Lar thought he saw some fear at the back of her pale blue eyes but he guessed that was to be expected.

When they turned to leave the Mother gestured to the hunters to step aside. When they did she walked over and placed her hands on the shoulders of the young woman. Standing on tiptoe she whispered, but the hunters were not close enough. Besides, they had no interest in female utterings.

That evening they were well on their way to the river of ice again. After the tale from the gatherers they had thought it best to avoid the trading place and they had skirted the bunch of tents and shelters, careful to stay out of sight. Sitting huddled in their sleeping furs they tried to stay warm without a fire.

Lar saw that Kur kept eyeing the girl. “Since there is only one of her the Old Man will have to decide which one of us will get her.”

Kur sighed. “We will have to wait until we are back with the tribe before one of us can touch her. But I can fantasize, can’t I?” He grinned as he made a gesture as if he had her soft flesh under his hands.

The night was more than halfway over when Lar took over from Ior. Kur and the girl, Jol, were fast asleep and Ior was quick to follow. Lar took a few steps and seated himself at a small boulder with his fur around his shoulders. The air was certainly warmer down here on the plain, but it was not yet summer.

For a time he watched the stars and the sickle of the moon. They would be back in time for the festivities. All in all it would take them slightly more than a hand of traveling. It would give them plenty of time. A soft sound alerted him. There was something else awake besides him. Probably a small animal. It had sounded as a rustle in the tall grasses nearby. Again he heard a faint noise.

Bending over Lar concentrated on the sounds of the plain. The wind moving the tall grasses, a night bird somewhere, further away the howl of a wolf and the occasional grunt from Ior or Kur. No, wait … there it was again. A piece of stone moved by a soft footfall. Lar moved fast and jumped whoever was sneaking up on them.

The sound of him running and tumbling woke up the others. In the half-light before the rising of the sun they could make out some vague forms. It took Lar only seconds to pin the shadow walker and he grunted in surprise.

“It’s a girl. I think I caught a girl.” He pushed his captive up and forward. “Who are you?”

“Don’t hurt, please?” The voice was soft and trembling.

“Where do you come from?” Ior was peering at her with a suspicious look on his face. “Are you from the trading grounds?”

Kur reached out and tugged at a strand of her hair. “She sure looks like them. See, her hair is nearly black. She’s a spy.”

“Who are you? What’s your name?” Lar held her arms behind her back and scowled at Kur.

“I tell you, she’s a spy. Look at her face; she’s all scared now that you caught her.”

Lar sighed. Sometimes Kur could be so stupid. Of course the girl would look scared. Strangers had just caught her. He wrapped a leather thong around her wrists and took a good look at her. Kur was right that she must have come from the trading grounds. Not only did she have very dark hair, her eyes were a dark brown too and she was wearing funny clothes.

It looked as if she had wrapped herself in layers of cloth, one over the other. He guessed it was the only way to keep warm without wearing furs and leathers. He looked at her face and the close inspection made him widen his eyes. He reached out and touched her cheek with careful fingers.

“You’ve been hurt?”

The girl jerked her head away, the dark eyes glowing with fire. “Don’t touch me. I’ll curse you!”

“Who cut your face?”

The girl looked at him with her mouth slightly open, a small frown between the dark eyebrows. Then she grinned and shook her head as if she had to explain something to a retarded child.

“My mother of course, who else?”

Lar gazed at the twin cuts that sat on both her cheeks. He could see now that they were made with care, two small lines on the cheekbones. The scars looked oddly attractive on the skin that was two or three shades darker than his own.

It took some time before they learned her name was Nyssa. She pointed at Ior.

“He is right. I come from trading grounds but not followed you. I run away.”

No matter how hard they tried, she refused to tell them from whom or why. Finally Ior cleared his throat.

“We need to get going. You cannot come with us.”

Without another glance at the dark haired girl he went about packing up his things, taking Kur with him. Apart from Jol who sat wide-eyed near the ashes of their fire, Lar was the only one who was still staring at her. Something about her being different called to him.

“Ior?” On impulse he took a few steps and grabbed Ior by his furs. “Why can’t we take her? She would make two mates.”

Ior let out a loud guffaw. “A mate? Her?” Still laughing he shook his head. “She’s thin and ugly.”

Lar stood transfixed. The casual dismissal by Ior seemed an insult to him and he strained to keep his breathing even.

“I’ll take her.”

The words escaped him by surprise. He hadn’t even known he was going to say them. But now that he had, it felt right. Yes, he would take her as mate, she was meant for him. The Earth Mother had sent her his way, of that he was suddenly very sure.

“You mean I can have Jol?” Kur’s voice was filled with amazement. The thought made him lick his lips as he eyed the well-rounded figure.

Lar shrugged and nodded. Jol was attractive to him too. Even now that he saw Nyssa beside her, but there was no question about it. Nyssa was meant for him. Her long straight hair was so different from the curling blond or reddish braids just as her dark eyes and her darker skin. And her built was different too. Long legs and small breasts instead of the broad hips and heavy mounds of their own women. He wondered at himself. Why had he said he would take her as a mate?

Dwelling on her differences called to mind the nonsense Ior had been spouting. From there it was a small jump to thinking about her slit. Would it be different? No, he didn’t believe that. A wolf and a fox were not that different either, so why would various humans be? He had to remind himself he could not have her until the Old Man had given his permission. Heaving a deep sigh, Lar wrapped up his furs and fastened the leather thongs that held Nyssa’s wrists to his belt.

They left the plains behind them without much trouble. Walking single file with the females in between was taking more time than they had anticipated however. Jol was doing her best to keep up with them but Nyssa was less cooperative. She might have been running away from home. She was not convinced however, that her new home was with Lar or any other hunter of the north.

The crossing of the ice river was even more difficult. Nyssa was having trouble with the cold. She was shivering almost constantly and every time they took some rest Jol had to rub her hands and feet to keep them from freezing. Jol herself was not very happy with the snow and ice either, but she was more used to the cold and her clothes offered more protection.

When they finally sighted the tents of their tribe they all heaved a sigh of relief. All of them, except Nyssa. She was not yet resigned to staying with these blond, blue-eyed giants and Lar had to keep an eye on her at all times. Or he tied her up so she couldn’t run away.

The Old Man was delighted to see them safely back. “Swift, strong, successful.” He smiled with pride. But the sight of Nyssa had him frowning. After he heard their story he was silent for a long time. He gazed into the distance as he twisted the beads in his hair.

“I’ll sleep on it. She’s different. I need to ask the spirits.”

He turned to speak to Jol. “You want to be mate to him?” The Old Man pointed at Kur. When the girl nodded with a blush on her face, he continued. “You and the strange girl have spent a lot of time together. Will you take care of her? You will live together. The other women will teach you what you need to know.”

Jol nodded. With a strange sense of loss Lar handed over the leather that bound Nyssa’s wrists. He watched both girls walk away, led by the women to the maiden tent. He shook his head to focus on the rest of the tribe.

Lar and Kur were happy to be home again, seeing their fellow hunters and their mates. They talked about the game and the trails and the wondrous things they had seen. Ior tried to keep them company but he didn’t last very long. With the grins from the others following him he grabbed Heg and soon they could hear them squealing and grunting in their small shelter.

The sounds made Lar sigh. Again he felt some disappointment that he could not spend the summer with some of the other clans. Hunting with the men and searching for a mate that would fit him and his needs. That was how it was supposed to go, but not this springtime. He eyed Kur but his friend didn’t seem to feel the same way. He sat gazing at the tent that had swallowed Jol and it looked as if he was happy enough with his mate-to-be.

Lar frowned in thought. He liked to look at Nyssa. Her being different was only part of the attraction, however. She moved with a supple grace that was alien to the women of the tribes. Her long legs looked smooth and he had spent more than one night fantasizing about them being wrapped around him. She was stubborn, a fighter and he liked that. Just as he liked the way she could suddenly smile, causing dimples in her cheeks. But he knew nothing about her skills, about her standing among other women. Nothing at all about those things that were truly important to know about your future mate.

Finally he trudged off to his own shelter. Snuggling under his furs he closed his eyes but sleep was a long way in coming. He kept seeing images of Nyssa, fantasizing about her body. How would she look without clothes? Was her body that brown all over? Would her skin feel smooth? When he drifted off he dreamed of new blood, hers.

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As usual, any comments are welcome.

 

[Black Tulip]

If you really want to know the rest of it, here's the second half of the story: (another 7.000 words or so)

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Moving softly in the darkness was a lot harder than she had thought it would be. And she was scared. There were all kinds of noises in the night and she scolded herself for not taking a knife with her. Not that she could have gotten one. That bear Jarig had made sure of that.

Shivering from fright as much as the cold she remembered Jarig coming to her father’s dwelling. They were poor, she knew that but she hadn’t seen it coming. Her father selling her to that oily, slimy piece of trash. He had been fondling her body all the way to his own shelter, in broad daylight, in front of all those people! She had fought him, so to punish her he had tied her up in the back till he was done for the day.

With a trembling hand Nyssa wiped the sweat from her brow. She had been lucky the slaves had been careless. They were not interested in keeping her secure for Jarig’s sake and she had managed to escape. Blindly running at first, she had caught sight of these big blonde hunters from the north. She had heard the slaves talking about them and she thought they could lead her out of the plain.

All she had to do was follow them. Standing still she tried to figure out what to do next. She was close to their fire, but it was dangerous to get any closer. Moving her feet to keep them from getting numb, she made the tall grasses rustle.

The next thing she knew, one of those blonde giants jumped on top of her. She tried to kick him between his legs, but he had her pinned to the ground. With a swift movement he jerked her upright, her arms behind her back.

His friends woke up and to her surprise she saw they had a girl with them. Had they bought a slave? Were they slavers too? Scared, Nyssa stared at the alien faces. Their light hair and blue eyes were frightening, just as their long braids with knots and beads in them.

With a jolt she realized her captor was talking to her.

“Don’t hurt, please?” She knew some words of their language but she was annoyed at the trembling in her voice.

“Where do you come from?” One of the others was peering at her with a suspicious look on his face. “Are you from the trading grounds?”

The short one reached out and tugged at a strand of her hair. “She sure looks like them. See, her hair is nearly black. She’s a spy.”

“Who are you? What’s your name?” The tall one held her arms behind her back.

“… she’s a spy ... she scared now …” That was the short one again.

The tall one wrapped a leather thong around her wrists and took a good look at her. He reached out and touched her cheek with careful fingers.

“You’ve been hurt?”

Nyssa jerked her head away, the dark eyes glowing with fire. “Don’t touch me. I’ll curse you!”

“Who cut your face?”

She gazed at him with silent disbelief, a small frown between the dark eyebrows. Then she grinned and shook her head as if she had to explain something to a retarded child.

“My mother of course, who else?”

Didn’t those barbarians know anything? Of course she’d had her cuts. All girls had them to show they had started bleeding like women. She looked back at him, his hand had been strangely gentle and she saw a look of curiosity in his eyes.

They kept asking her questions, but she couldn’t understand half of it. Finally she decided to tell them her name.

“I’m called Nyssa.” She pointed at Ior.

“He is right. I come from trading grounds but not followed you. I run away.”

The one they called Ior cleared his throat.

“We need to get going. You cannot come with us.”

Without another glance at her he went about packing up his things, taking the short one with him. Apart from the girl who sat wide-eyed near the ashes of their fire, the tall one was still staring at her.

“Ior?” He took a few steps and grabbed one of the others by his furs. “ … take her? … two mates.”

Ior let out a loud guffaw. “A mate? Her?” Still laughing he shook his head. “She’s thin and ugly.”

The one they called Lar stood very still. Nyssa saw an angry look flash across his face. But his next words shocked her into a daze.

“I’ll take her.”

Nyssa heard the others arguing but all she could think of were those words. What did he mean by that? I’ll take her. She soon found out it meant at least being tied by her wrists to his belt. It was no use trying to get away. He kept a close watch over her.

She tried to use the other girl, but only once was she able to scramble away. He even kept an eye on her when she was relieving herself after that. When he slept he kept the leather thong wrapped around his wrist and whenever she moved around she would find his eyes on her. It looked to her as if the blue gaze wanted to get inside her skull. Reading her thoughts.

The longer they walked, the more she regretted her decision to follow these hunters of the north. They kept going and going and going, and the snow and ice didn’t seem to bother them at all. She was glad the other girl, Jol, was allowed to help her. Nyssa had never known she could be so cold without dying. Her hands and feet were numb all the time and sometimes even her face felt stiff and frozen.

She had to find a way to get back to the south again. She just had to. That other one, Ior, had been right. She was too different. She didn’t belong here in this land of whites and pale blues. These people were all colorless like their land. Not dark and strong, like her. Nyssa was almost desperate to get away by the time their journey was over.

A cluster of shelters, tents they called them, sat against a rocky ledge. The plain in front of it was showing signs of thawing but it was not yet fully spring here. Not like on the plains they had left behind them. With a jolt Nyssa realized the old man in front of her was probably their elder. He said something about her. Something about asking spirits. She should have paid attention.

To her surprise Lar handed over the leather that bound her wrists to Jol and the other girl lead her to a tent, the other women following the two of them. Once inside she was quickly divested of her robes. No matter how much of a fight she put up, the other women were determined. From the corner of her eye she saw that Jol had taken off her clothes as well, which made her a bit less apprehensive. What were they going to do to them?

Soon Nyssa found herself blushing all over. The older women were stroking her dark skin and touching the dark hair on her head and between her legs as well.

“… hair is … night. Her skin … soft.”

She couldn’t understand all they said, but enough to put away her fear. The women seemed curious about the color of her skin and hair, that was all.

“… down. …. down.”

Nyssa frowned. What were they saying? She looked over to Jol and her eyes grew wide. Jol was on her back among the furs and one of the women was reaching between her legs. In reflex Nyssa clamped her thighs together. What were they going to do to them?

“No! No!”

Nyssa tried to fight the women off but there were two holding her hands and one stood in front of her, smiling and nodding at Jol. The blond girl nodded at her too.

“It’s all right. They only want to …”

Nyssa frowned and shook her head. What was Jol trying to tell her?

The woman in front of her took matters into her own hands. With a firm grip she took Nyssa’s chin in her fingers and forced her to look at her.

“You.” The woman tapped her on the chest. “Nyssa?” She pointed at herself. “I am Aha. Yes? Aha.”

Nyssa nodded that she understood. “You are Aha.”

Next Aha touched Nyssa again. This time her fingers trailed down to her breasts, stroking the dark nipples. She smiled when the dark girl gasped.

“You have a mate?”

Nyssa shook her head.

“No mate? No touching?”

Aha dropped her hand. Unexpectedly she reached between Nyssa’s legs and touched her there. She laughed when Nyssa tried to kick her.

“No mate.” She nodded at the other women. “ … fresh blood. Lar will have a … mate.”
Jol laughed with the other women. Nyssa saw she was still on her back, with her legs spread wide. She didn’t look scared at all. In fact she looked as if she was enjoying herself. That was odd. The woman between her legs was still touching her, but Jol didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Go on, … on your back. It’s custom … uh … ritual?”

Jol was looking at her as if she was saying something important. She wanted Nyssa to get on her back too? Nyssa looked unsure at the other women. They were all smiling and nodding at her. They didn’t look like they were going to hurt her. With a sigh, she decided to do as they wanted, but she vowed to herself to get away from these strange people as soon as she could.

Once on her back, like Jol, Aha stepped between her legs and Nyssa had to force herself to keep her legs open. Nobody had seen her like that, not since she had her cuts. It wasn’t proper to let anybody see your secret place, let alone touch it. But that was exactly what Aha was doing. Touching her down there. One of the other women went over to where Jol was, but soon Nyssa was losing all interest in what happened to the blond girl.

Aha and the other woman were stroking her body, touching her so that she was getting warm and tingling all over. To her shame she could feel moisture welling up between her legs. That was only supposed to happen when she was mating. She knew that. Her mother had told her when she gave her her cuts. Nyssa closed her eyes in shame.

With a yelp she tried to close her legs when she felt something probing at her secret place. Aha smiled at her, nodding again.

“Good, good. No mate, secret place is … secret.”

Aha patted Nyssa on her hip, as if she wanted to comfort her.

The women were now back to chattering among themselves, no longer interested in Jol or her. To her horror they took all the clothes with them when they left the two girls. The shelter, tent, was comfortable enough. There were piles of fur to sit on and somehow the inside was not cold at all. But without clothes it would be impossible to escape. Nyssa fretted until she finally fell asleep, her legs clamped together to still the tingling in her secret place.

The next day the women returned, bringing strips of meat and water for the girls. Nyssa eyed them warily. Jol had not been able to explain everything to her, since she was not from the same tribe as these hunters. But together the girls had decided the women had merely made sure they were both not yet mated. Jol had said they were to be taken for the first time with the next full moon. She had called it Spring Ekenocks or something and told Nyssa it was an important time for the hunters.

Nyssa sat with her arms around her knees, hugging herself tight. It was only a hand of nights before the full moon. She would have to get away before then. Once mated, nobody would ever want her again. With a jolt she came back to her surroundings. Aha was gently shaking her by the shoulder.

“You … Nyssa? Work … clothes. New clothes for mating. Beautiful clothes, yes?”

She pushed some furs in Nyssa’s hands and pointed at them and then at the things she had put in the middle of the tent. “Clothes for mating?”

Nyssa shook her head violently, throwing the furs away.

“I won’t be mated. I won’t!”

She jumped up and nearly rushed out before she realized she was still naked. Her hands balled into fists she turned around and kicked at the furs. The soft pile did nothing to relieve her frustration. All tensed up Nyssa turned her back to Jol and Aha, sitting down with her arms wrapped around her.

Aha left after speaking with Jol for a few minutes. Nyssa could hear Jol working on one of the furs; the soft sound of the bone punching holes in the hide, the rustle of the skins and occasionally a sigh from Jol. Finally she heard Jol taking a deep breath.

“Aha says the spirits gave the Old Man … accept you …”

Nyssa bit her lip. She didn’t want to discuss the matter. She had no intention of becoming part of this pack of hunters.

“Aha says we … make … new clothes, … show our mates …”

Nyssa frowned. What was Jol trying to tell her? She turned around.

“What you say? I make clothes? You make clothes? We mate when clothes are finished?”

Jol laughed. “No, we mate with full moon.” She held up her hand. “One hand of nights.” She pointed at the furs. “We make clothes, so mates see … we can. You understand? Make beautiful clothes, mate will be very happy.”

Nyssa shrugged. What was it to her if that tall hunter was happy or not? Sure, he had been nice to her, but she didn’t want to mate. Not here, not with a pale-haired man, living in ice and snow for the rest of her days.

Jol looked concerned as she reached out to touch her hand.

“If mate is happy, he … nice. You know about mating?”

Now it was Nyssa’s turn to laugh. “Of course, I have my cuts. See?”

She pointed at the scars on her cheekbones.

“Why do you have cuts?”

Nyssa saw Jol looked as if she was asking something new.

“You don’t have cuts?”

Her fingers touched Jol’s smooth face. She shook her head.

“My people … you get cuts when you bleed first. Your mother makes the cuts, teach about mating.”

Jol nodded that she understood. Next she lifted her hair up and threw it back, showing Nyssa she had a small blue-black sign on her shoulder. She pointed at the Y-shape.

“We have this. See? The sign of the Earth Mother. To make … … many children.”

“Earth Mother, yes.”

Nyssa felt a bit less tense when she understood. At least the goddess was not completely unknown to these barbarians. She looked to see what Jol had been doing. The blond girl had a supple brown-red piece of leather on her knees and she had been punching holes along the sides to make it into a dress. While the girls talked Jol picked up leather strips and started threading them through the holes. When she was done she picked up another piece of leather with the same color. Nyssa watched her carefully.

She had been stupid, she thought to herself. This was her chance to get clothes. But she didn’t know how to make clothes from leather. Her mother had taught her to weave and she could do that well enough. And she could handle a needle. So she watched the other girl work steadily to fit the two pieces of leather together at the shoulders. The sides would be closed with the strips of leather and the deep slit in the front as well. As soon as she understood what Jol was doing, she turned to the pile of furs and leather to find a suitable piece for herself. For a few moments she wondered what color would be best.

It must have been the end of the day, when Aha came back with the other three women. They had food and drink with them, and while the girls were eating they inspected their work of that day. Aha beamed when she saw both of them had finished a dress, and had started on boots.

“Good clothes. Make them beautiful too.”

Aha pointed at the beads and the pile of tiny bones she had brought with her.

Nyssa was frowning again. She had no desire to make the clothes beautiful. All she needed was clothes that would keep her warm when she escaped. One turn of the sun less before they would give her to that hunter, that Lar.

The next day Nyssa was quiet, concentrating on finishing a pair of warm boots, with the fur turned inside. Jol did most of the talking, telling her stories of the Earth Mother that were nearly the same as the ones Nyssa knew. Every now and then she nodded, spoke a few words, but most of the time Nyssa sat bent over her work, her fingers working as quickly as possible. She would need something to cover her dress and her hands too. She had not yet forgotten how cold it had been up on the ice river.

Aha came by every day to bring them food and inspect their work, she was pleased to see that Nyssa had finished a pair of boots and a cape with a hood, the light grey fur a beautiful contrast with her dark hair. Jol had been busy with decorating her dress, using beads to make a white and yellow pattern on the front and along the hem.

“Jol? You have a beautiful dress. Your mate will be happy.”

Nyssa whispered in the darkness as she lay on her back, waiting for the right time to slip away. Jol had been kind to her and she didn’t want to leave her without wishing her luck. It was the only thing she could think of to say without betraying her plan.

“You … beautiful dress too. Use the red beads, … dark hair.”

Jol sounded already half asleep and Nyssa was listening intently. Outside everything was quiet; maybe it was snowing. She didn’t know. The tent was dark and warm and safe, but she knew she had to get away now. It was only one more turn until that Spring … Spring Ekenocks.

The dress was stiff on her body, she wasn’t used to wearing leather, but once outside she felt glad for the protection. Much better than her own clothes had given her on her way here. And the boots were comfortable too. With one hand Nyssa pulled the hood over her head to hide her dark hair before she wrapped strips of fur around her hands. Making coverings for her hands would have been suspicious so she had hidden a few broad pieces at the back of the tent.

She had been right. It was snowing outside. The night sky was almost hidden from view. She was glad the near full moon was hidden behind clouds, but it meant she had to stumble through the darkness. Praying to the Goddess for guidance she set off, determined to find her way back to the plains.

Grumbling at her own stupidity, Nyssa plodded through the snow. Thirst was not a problem. She could eat a hand of the white stuff often enough, but she had nothing to eat. She should have saved some of the meat strips from her last meal. Hungry and tired, she trudged on. The cold was slowly getting a grip on her and she needed to rest soon. But she was afraid to get caught, afraid to go to sleep in this vast white world. She knew she was on the right way; the ice river was glinting in the sun not too far ahead. Maybe if she was at the foot, she could find a spot to rest for a few beats.

Shivering in the shadows of the ice river Nyssa sat down on a boulder, closing her eyes to give them some rest. Dozing off her body slid down and she felt numb with cold and fatigue. The sound of crunching snow woke her only partly. Her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment and she smiled at the shadow looming over her before they closed again.

When she woke up again, she jolted upright. She had to get going again, get away from these hunters. To her horror she found she couldn’t. Her legs were tied together and so were her wrists. She could rub her face as her hands were in front of her, but she could not walk. Scared, Nyssa looked around her, vaguely remembering somebody bending over her. She took in the hollow in the snow. It looked man-made to her, but what did she know about snow? She sighed. Somebody had tied her up.

Shivering from fear as much as from the cold, Nyssa heard footsteps coming her way. She gasped when she saw who had captured her. She backed away as far as she could, her back pressed against the cold snow. The tall hunter, Lar, looked at her with blazing eyes. He even laughed!

“ … pleased. It’s … like the old days. Hunting for a mate.”

What was he saying? Nyssa shook her head. She hadn’t run away because of some old ritual. Frustration brought tears to her eyes and she looked up at him with a pleading look on her face.

“Let me go, please? No mate for you. I …” She struggled for the right words. “I not good mate for you. You different. I hate cold, not like snow.”

Lar frowned as he looked at her.

“Yes, you are different. That … I like.”

He reached out and touched her face. His big hand cupped her cheek and his thumb traced her lips.

“We will mate, tonight. I take you back now, like the old days.”

He grinned and before Nyssa knew it, he had swung her over his shoulder, one arm over the back of her legs to keep her in place. Her face rested against his back and she was scared she would slid down to the ground so she kept very still, biting her lip as she realized her chance to get out was slipping away from her.

She thought she had walked a good distance but the trek back was going much too fast. The tall hunter took long strides. She could feel his confidence in his bouncing steps and soon she saw multiple tracks in the snow. They must be near the tribe again. In a desperate attempt she tried to kick her legs loose, but the hunter merely took a firmer grip on her thighs.

“Keep still. I … to hurt … The snow is … hard.”

Nyssa thought on his words. He did not want her to get hurt? What was he going to do to her then? She had heard women talk. Mating hurt, unless you wanted it too. And she didn’t want it. Not here, not with one of those barbarians. She squirmed again, trying to get her legs free.

“Keep still!”

Maybe she could have ignored his low growl, but the swat on her behind made her yelp in surprise.
Before she had time for another attempt, she heard voices and laughter coming close. Shouts from other men, as if they congratulated that Lar on catching her. No doubt that was supposed to show what a good hunter he was. Nyssa snorted, unwilling to admit she was a bit in awe of his ability to find her that quickly.

The next thing she knew, she was standing on her own feet again, feeling a bit dizzy from hanging upside down for so long. To her shame, she had to lean against the big body in front of her to keep from falling. She could feel one arm coming around to support her and she was drawn against the leather of his covering. With her head on his chest she could feel his voice rumbling in his chest.

“… proof she was … for me. The Earth Mother made … I found her. I feel like the Great Hunter … catching a mate.”

The others laughed and shouted, and she could hear the few children whooping with excitement. She turned around and saw the whole tribe gathered around a huge pit. They must have been collecting wood for ages to build such a big fire. It was getting dark and when she looked up she could see the first stars twinkling in a clear sky.

Unsure of what to expect, Nyssa looked around, searching for Jol. The other girl was the closest to a friend and right now, she could do with one. She saw the sturdy hunter who would mate with Jol, and the old man, the elder, and the hunters and their mates. But there was no sign of Jol, or of Aha either. She was still searching among the crowd when Lar lifted her up again and carried her to the tent she and Jol had shared for the last hand of days.

“Aha? Aha! I bring you my mate.”

Nyssa thought his voice sounded positively proud and she cast a glance at his face. She wished she hadn’t when she met his fierce gaze. The blue eyes seemed to burn holes into her and she felt herself flush with an uncomfortable mix of emotions. Anger at being caught, fear for the future but there was also a spark of pride, that someone would want her for a mate.

She shook her head to clear the unwelcome thoughts. She was set on her feet again as Aha poked her head outside, displaying a wide grin on her face.

“Leave her to me. You go, get ready.”

The older woman pushed Lar away with a laugh and a wink. Then she looked at Nyssa, curiosity plain in her light eyes.

“Come inside, quickly now. There … time.”

Nyssa stumbled inside the tent, her legs still tied together and Aha chuckled. She bent down and undid the ties. She freed her hands as well, still laughing softly. Next she started tugging at Nyssa’s clothes.

“Off, off. You get ready. Like Jol.”

Aha pointed at the other girl and Nyssa looked at her with eyes wide in wonder. Jol was wearing her new dress and boots, her unbound hair a cloud of reddish curls that cascaded down her shoulders. Her face looked full of eager expectation even if she was standing very still, her hands in front of her, tied with some sort of green strands. Between her fingers she held a delicate pale blue egg.

Nyssa felt confused, frustrated. She wanted to ask so many questions, but the words failed her. It was no use asking them in her own language, they wouldn’t understand her. Why did she have to undress? She was already wearing her new dress. And why the egg? And what was that green stuff? And why?

Still pondering these questions, Nyssa took the cup Aha handed her without question. Only noticing there was something else than water in it when the contents burned down her throat, making her choke and cough. Aha laughed and patted her on the back.

“Mead. … good for mating. Sweet and strong. … honey?”

Nyssa frowned, then nodded. Aha was telling her the drink was made from honey. Good for mating? She wondered if she had got that part of it right. But after the first sip, it tasted nice. It made her warm inside and she emptied the cup of her own accord. When Aha handed her and Jol another she lifted it to her lips with a smile. Jol smiled back at her and drank hers out in one go, smacking and licking her lips after she had finished.

Aha pointed to a spot in the middle of the tent and Nyssa obeyed her with a sigh. It was no use fighting the Goddess. Surely she would have protected her if she hadn’t wanted her faithful daughter to mate with a hunter? And had Lar not said something about the Earth Mother pointing him in the right direction? Maybe there was some purpose, one she didn’t know yet?

Nyssa stared at the cup in her hand, lost in her own world. Aha’s hands on her body startled her. The older woman held a bowl in one hand, dipped her fingers in and then smeared the contents on Nyssa. The soft paste smelled of fat and honey and Aha traced circles on her breasts and belly, leaving sticky patterns. Nyssa followed her fingers as if hypnotized and at first didn’t realize the woman was talking to her.

“… Earth Mother… the “Egg that Started the World”. See?”

Aha pointed at the circles on Nyssa’s body.

“… make your mounds … milk. …your belly … big.”

She patted Nyssa on her bottom to make her turn around. As she stood there, naked, her body painted with sticky paste she wondered what else was in store for her. She could feel Aha smoothing out her hair and next her dress was slipped over her head again, careful to keep the patterns. Aha gave her another cup of mead to drink before she tied her hands together with the same green strands as Jol’s.

“… first green … new life. You give the egg to … mate …”

Aha looked serious when she tried to instruct Nyssa. The first green as symbol of new life, that was easy. But what did she mean with the egg? Nyssa shook her head.

“I give egg to mate? Now?”

“No, no, no. Give egg, yes. Not now. After dancing. First eating and drinking. … dancing, the Old Man … story, you give egg to Lar. You go with Lar. Yes?”

Aha seemed anxious that Nyssa understood what to do, so the girl nodded at her, smiling to show she knew.

Both girls stood carefully holding an egg between their fingers, scared to move in case they would drop it, or disrupt the patterns on their bodies. All they could do was smile at each other. Jol opened her mouth once, but she looked at Aha and closed her mouth again. Maybe she wanted to know why Nyssa had slipped away in the night, but she didn’t say anything.

Finally Aha said it was time. She ushered the girls out into the clear night, towards the blazing fire and the hunters waiting for them. The smell of roasting deer reminded Nyssa how hungry she was. She could hear her stomach rumble and had to suppress a nervous giggle.

When they came into view, all members of the tribe fell quiet, and standing away they cleared a path to where the Old Man sat on a big boulder, covered with furs. Aha directed them to stand on each side of him. Jol to his right, Nyssa to his left. Before she left them she hissed at them to keep still as best they could to honor their mates.

Nyssa frowned, not sure how her standing still could mean something to the honor of Lar. But she decided to keep to their custom. After all, he had treated her fair. At least a lot better than that Jarig ever would have. She looked around her with curiosity. All members looked to wear new clothes, but she didn’t see Lar, or Kur either.

The Old Man said something she didn’t understand, but the men laughed and soon the women were passing around more cups of the honey drink. Next, the crowd parted again and Nyssa saw Lar and Kur coming towards the Old Man. They looked only to him, not a glance to the girls waiting by his side. They stood still in front of him.

“I have found myself a mate.” Kur sounded excited as he addressed his elder.

“I have hunted a mate.” Lar stood tall and proud.

“Let us share the bounty of the hunt first.”

The Old Man gestured toward the deer and both men turned. They carved pieces from the meat and started passing them around. The first piece was for the Old Man. When everybody had been served they turned back. Each of them held a carving.

“I will feed my mate from the skill of my hand.”

Both hunters uttered the words at the same time and Nyssa saw the Old Man smile. When Lar held the roasted meat to her lips she tore off a big chunk. Eager to still her hunger, she realized only afterwards that this must be part of their ritual. Next Lar offered her a cup of mead, pouring the content steadily down her throat. Again she felt the warmth spreading to her body and sighed a bit from the contented feeling of a full stomach and a warm body. She opened her mouth to thank him, but remembered Aha’s words. She kept quiet and tried to thank him with her eyes.

She wished she hadn’t. The blaze in his nearly took her breath away. She felt heat color her cheeks and looked down to escape the intense blue stare. She heard the old man chuckle and her face felt even hotter. She bit her lip and stood as still as she could. She wouldn’t shame anybody.

After the eating came the dancing. A few of the hunters thumped on odd round objects and the rhythm was soon causing the entire tribe to circle around the fire. Nyssa was not sure, but it looked as if they had stretched skin over something round. Looking from the corner of her eye, she saw Aha there as well, rattling small bones to add to the sounds from the thrumming things.

Nyssa started to feel a bit sleepy. Standing still for so long, the hypnotic sounds and the swirling figures in front of her all seemed to add to the fuzzy feeling that had started with the honey drink. She stood almost dreaming with her eyes open and it took an effort to listen when the Old Man started speaking. She forced herself to pay attention and suddenly she felt her body tighten in anticipation. After the Old Man told a story, Aha had said.

“… Earth Mother was caught by the Great Hunter … she gave … egg … the “Egg that Started the World” … blessing … mating …”

The Old Man turned to Jol first and Nyssa looked closely to see what would happen next. Jol extended her hands towards Kur.

“I offer you … egg … new life … mate.”

Kur took the egg from her but she could no longer see what happened. Lar had stepped in front of her. Nyssa took a deep breath, emotions were still warring inside her but the look on his face was touching something inside her. She stuck out her hands in front of her.

“I give you egg. For new life.” She hesitated for only a moment before she added: “For my mate.”

Lar took the egg from her fingers. To her amazement he cracked it gently, only to reveal it had been cooked. He ate all of it before looking at her.

“The egg from you is in me. I will be in you. You create new life. We are mates.”

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her forward, then swung her over his shoulder again. He turned towards the Old Man for a moment.

“I hunted my mate. I shared my bounty. My mate shared hers.”

Nyssa couldn’t see the Old Man but he must have made a gesture because Lar walked away, his arm across her thighs.

Inside his tent Lar set her on her feet again, but he kept her wrists together. He wrapped his arms around her and licked her lips, crushing her form against him.

“Now, I can touch you … wanted you … you are beautiful.”

Nyssa couldn’t understand all his words, but it was enough. She blushed, uncomfortably aware of his nearness. The touch of his lips was tickling and when his lips brushed lower, down her throat she gasped at the pleasure of it.

He pushed her further inside until she stood in the middle of his tent, in front of a large pile of furs that looked very inviting. When Lar pulled out his hunting knife she shrank back for a moment. Unsure of his intentions. But he smiled at her and kept her still with one hand as his knife sliced through the leather bindings of her dress. The leather dropped to the floor, leaving her naked and with the patterns on her body hardly disturbed.

Nyssa lowered her hands to shield her secret place from his gaze. His blue eyes turned almost dark when he looked at her and he touched one of her mounds. His fingers trailed the circles on her skin and Nyssa shivered. She had no desire to be mated to him, but his touch was creating a new heat inside her, much like the mead before. She could feel warmth spreading through her body as his fingers followed the patterns Aha had painted on earlier.

With a soft push Lar placed her on top of the furs, following her down in a smooth movement. His hands left the circles on her mounds and trailed down to her belly, feeling the curve of her hips and stroking the soft skin on her legs. He chuckled as he pushed her hands away.

“I want to see your … feel it … enter it.”

His words made her flush even more, although she couldn’t understand all of them. Nyssa suddenly wished he would free her hands. She wanted to feel his body too. The blond hair on his chest, the muscles in his arms and his back. She wished he would take off his clothes too.

“Lar? You get out of clothes too?”

He laughed at her words and nodded. With a few swift movements his leathers were gone and she looked at him with big eyes. She knew he was tall, but she had not realized the full size of him. The broad shoulders and the strong legs were impressive. But the sight of his rod made her quiver a bit. So big, how could that go inside her?

His next touch made her forget her doubts. He bent his head and moved his lips over the circles on her chest. The feeling made her arch her back and he started licking the circles off. Nyssa felt herself wishing he would lick the tips too and when he did, she made a small sound. It was so unexpected. His tongue sent tiny sparks right down to her secret place and she bucked her hips without wanting to. He kept licking and nibbling her mounds until she was gasping for breath.

When his hand moved down her belly she opened her legs willingly, aching for his touch there too. His fingers slipped between them and he kissed her belly. Nyssa opened her eyes to see him kneeling between her legs, looking at her secret place and she could feel the moisture welling up. She hadn’t wanted to mate him, but she wanted him to look at her. She wanted him to find her beautiful.

“Lar? Touch me? Please?”

His voice was a low growl. His breath a warm touch on her wetness.

“Yes, I want to touch you, enter you.”

His fingers played between her legs until she spread them even wider, willing him inside her. He entered her body but his rod got stuck just inside. She knew it had to be like that and tensed for a moment. Lar grabbed her hips and with a powerful movement he stabbed into her, making her cry out in pain. His rod was only halfway in and he lay still for a moment.

“Shush. It … right … fresh blood … all right.”

Nyssa bit her lip. The beautiful warm feeling was nearly gone, she didn’t want that. Lar moved out of her but before she could protest he slammed back in. This time his rod entered her further and it didn’t hurt so much. He repeated it a few times and the warm feeling came back. His fingers played with her teats and his rod stretched her in a pleasant way. He moved faster and she hooked her legs around his back, afraid to lose the feeling of him inside her.

The tiny sparks inside of her grew bigger and she started rocking her hips in time with his thrusts, urging him on, wanting him to slam into her harder and harder. She finally cried out, the heat and the sparks rolling in waves through her entire body, making her contract muscles in odd places until she felt something inside of her. His rod was spewing and she could feel it.

Nyssa looked at Lar with awe in her eyes. She saw the same wonder in his. So this was mating. She smiled at him and was sorry to see him leave.

“I have to … show … new blood.”

Lar pointed at his rod, covered with a few streaks of blood, hers. Naked he stepped outside and Nyssa could hear the tribe clapping and shouting. Had they been listening? She hadn’t heard anything but her own breathing and Lar’s grunting. She didn’t care really. For the first time in her life she had mated. And it had been wonderful. Perhaps they could again? She wiggled her bottom in the soft furs at the thought of Lar entering her body over and over. Maybe that’s what the Goddess had wanted her to find out? Mating wasn’t so bad after all.

--------------

 

[Penelope Street]

Hi Tulip,

At first I clicked on the go-to-latest-post tab and naturally got part two of the story. This I began reading and adored. I was kinda disappointed when I realized it wasn't the real beginning. When I did get to the second part, I enjoyed it more than the first half- but this may be because I had already read the other version of part one.

This longer version is a definite improvement. For me, the story would work even better if it was longer and slower- with more action and dialog, less summary and paraphrasing. I felt much more in touch with Nyssa this time, but I still didn't quite join her, if you know what I mean. I was especially interested to see how the relationship between Nyssa and Jol developed over the days before their weddings.

What is the purpose of duplicating the portion of the story when Nyssa and Lar meet?

A few things that struck me as odd about the characters:

A couple times in the story, Lar rues that he can't find a mate the old way. To me, it seems like the old way is to spend summer with the other tribe, yet later when Nyssa flees Lar reacts as if hunting her is part of some great ritual. Is the hunt part of the old way? Am I missing something?

If the tribe of the elder mother has too many women, too many mouths to feed, too few men, etc- why does the elder mother insist that the hunters get only one woman for the hides? Why doesn't she insist the hunters return to the traders and get as many male slaves as they can? That's what her tribe really needs- right, not a couple of fancy skins?

At one point, one of the men says it would be a bonus to trade for a woman with a child, yet later it would seem nothing less than a virgin will do.

Some of the names, like Aha and Ull from Ugg made me laugh.

Nyssa follows the blonde giants in the first place to escape from the plain, yet later all she wants to do is return to the plain. I found her behavior confusing. And she still goes way too fast from "She had no desire to mate with him" to "Mating wasn't so bad after all"

A few things that struck me as odd about the character's world:

If the tribe of Lar needs mates for new blood, then it makes sense that other tribes will need the same. Why don't they trade women for women instead of a couple fox hides for women?

What are all these different peoples doing so close to one another? If the hunters spend all day seeking women among the traders, there must be dozens of trader's tents. Where did they come from? How many other tribes will visit them? Nyssa's tribe must be nearby too.

Why is there such a dramatic climate shift within what would be an hour's drive by car? Did I miss an elevation change? If Lar and his friends had to go over a mountain pass, I would find that more believable.

In your original post, you said you wanted the setting to be early stone age, yet there are objects of metal- one is even iron. I admit I don't know that much about the stone age, but that seems wrong.

I can't remember how many times I smiled when you phrased something just right. The little touches like the face cuts and the way they counted by hands and judged time in suns and moons were great. Your proofing is almost perfect- I only noticed two English issues.

I'd still like it to be longer, but I think it can work as a sexy little romp. If that's what you want, then maybe get rid of the trader's camp and have the men go directly to the tribe of the elder mother? Or maybe just start with Nyssa running. Did I mention I liked that part?

Take Care,
Penny

 

[Black Tulip]

It's not as if I ignored the comments. LOL I had another load of useful tips by PM which have been answered pronto.
Been busy celebrating my "certificates" and the new job to go with it.

Hi Tulip,

At first I clicked on the go-to-latest-post tab and naturally got part two of the story. This I began reading and adored. I was kinda disappointed when I realized it wasn't the real beginning. When I did get to the second part, I enjoyed it more than the first half- but this may be because I had already read the other version of part one.

This longer version is a definite improvement. For me, the story would work even better if it was longer and slower- with more action and dialog, less summary and paraphrasing. I felt much more in touch with Nyssa this time, but I still didn't quite join her, if you know what I mean. I was especially interested to see how the relationship between Nyssa and Jol developed over the days before their weddings.

I was afraid it was going to be way too long. But I like the idea of paying more attention to the relationship between the two girls.

What is the purpose of duplicating the portion of the story when Nyssa and Lar meet?

I used it as the point to switch pov.

A few things that struck me as odd about the characters:

A couple times in the story, Lar rues that he can't find a mate the old way. To me, it seems like the old way is to spend summer with the other tribe, yet later when Nyssa flees Lar reacts as if hunting her is part of some great ritual. Is the hunt part of the old way? Am I missing something?

Oops, should make that more clear. She was inadvertently playing her part in the old traditions.

If the tribe of the elder mother has too many women, too many mouths to feed, too few men, etc- why does the elder mother insist that the hunters get only one woman for the hides? Why doesn't she insist the hunters return to the traders and get as many male slaves as they can? That's what her tribe really needs- right, not a couple of fancy skins?

Damn, woman! You got that right. Now what? Shows you why I'll never get rich. LOL

At one point, one of the men says it would be a bonus to trade for a woman with a child, yet later it would seem nothing less than a virgin will do.

Those were meant to be different points of view for different persons. I'll see if I can clarify that.

Some of the names, like Aha and Ull from Ugg made me laugh.

In a good or a bad way?

Nyssa follows the blonde giants in the first place to escape from the plain, yet later all she wants to do is return to the plain. I found her behavior confusing. And she still goes way too fast from "She had no desire to mate with him" to "Mating wasn't so bad after all"

I should be able to make the transition more gradual if I pay more attention to what happens along the trip.

A few things that struck me as odd about the character's world:

If the tribe of Lar needs mates for new blood, then it makes sense that other tribes will need the same. Why don't they trade women for women instead of a couple fox hides for women?

Not enough people to share because of the harsh winter. I thought I explained that at the start. Perhaps too much got left out in the rewrite. I'll have a look.

What are all these different peoples doing so close to one another? If the hunters spend all day seeking women among the traders, there must be dozens of trader's tents. Where did they come from? How many other tribes will visit them? Nyssa's tribe must be nearby too.

Why is there such a dramatic climate shift within what would be an hour's drive by car? Did I miss an elevation change? If Lar and his friends had to go over a mountain pass, I would find that more believable.

I thought that the climate would change once they left the gletscher behind. Or is that nonsense?

In your original post, you said you wanted the setting to be early stone age, yet there are objects of metal- one is even iron. I admit I don't know that much about the stone age, but that seems wrong.

Mab pointed me in the direction of a later period where there would be trade, so that's what I did.

I can't remember how many times I smiled when you phrased something just right. The little touches like the face cuts and the way they counted by hands and judged time in suns and moons were great. Your proofing is almost perfect- I only noticed two English issues.

Thank you. I take that as a big compliment, for my editor as well.
As for the English, I keep my spell checker on US English, but I learned the language at a time where American English was considered not done.

I'd still like it to be longer, but I think it can work as a sexy little romp. If that's what you want, then maybe get rid of the trader's camp and have the men go directly to the tribe of the elder mother? Or maybe just start with Nyssa running. Did I mention I liked that part?

Take Care,
Penny

LOL I think it was your comments that made me expand her part in the first place.

Thanks very much for the effort and the useful comments.
In case any lurkers are reading this: it really helps to have others look at your writing.

 

[Joesephus]

This one should be easy since I have only one major question:

Is it worth submitting?

I have serious doubts about this one. Possibly because I set out to write a historically believable story, not necessarily smut.

But, suppose you answered in the positive, I have some other questions I will post after the story itself. It's 4259 words long, so I think you should be able to plow through the whole of it.

-------------------------

Dear Hunting

Dawn painted the sky a faint pink tinged with orange and Lars sniffed the air.

[qoute]

Okay, I don't do line by line critiques generally, but as I started I just wanted to say I hate this line! It's beautiful, it's poetry and it makes me self conciousious that I'm reading a story not conecting to one. I'm guilty of doing the same thing. I think I do it to show of my "skill" or something, but... sigh enough rant.
[/quote]

He felt fairly sure it would snow later this day, but for now the sky lighted slowly up to a pearly white with the sun a pale disc on the horizon. Spring was coming late this year, he thought as he closed the flap of the tent behind him. It was nearly time to celebrate Ostara but there was no sign yet of the ice retreating from the summer plains.

At the sound of boots crunching on the frozen snow he turned his head and watched his hunting partners emerge from their own tents. Ivor, his bow across his shoulder, was still tying his pants as he stepped outside with a big grin on his broad face. No doubt he had started the day with greeting his woman in a proper way.

Okay, I'm comfortable with the style I'm getting good mental images of the scene and the people. Then I got stopped by the able sentence I think it's the 'with' that got me. It just seem awkward

Lars sighed and gazed at Knut. The smaller man had no woman of his own. Like Lars he had his own tent, ready to bring in a mate if they could find one, but so far they'd had no such luck.

Due to the ice still covering the plains, there hadn't been any foraging by the women. Which meant there was no chance to catch a girl from another clan either. So the night before Lars had told his friends of his plan. He wanted to trek across the ice field to find the tents of another tribe so he and Knut could go girl hunting instead of reindeer. There was meat enough for the clan so their contribution could be missed for a few days.

His persuasive, urgent words had easily incited Knut to go along. He was just as tired of using his hands as Lars was. And Ivor was generous enough to wish his friends a mate of their own. All he asked was that they would be back for the festivities of Spring Equinox, the honoring of Ostara as the source of all life. He hoped the goddess would bless him and his mate with young if they coupled during the celebration. Lars understood all too well. Ivor had no next of kin left since his sire had been gutted by a sabretooth last summer.

Lars nodded to both men and led the way out of the small circle of tents that housed their clan. The harsh long winter had dwindled their numbers till there were only ten tents left. No more than seven hunters besides the three of them. It was too little to survive for long. Proper hunting required at least ten men so any accident would be fatal for all the clan. He and Knut needed to contribute to a new generation of hunters.

Good stuff here, you've given me a cultural reference and I can understand the movtivation. You've also left me with a ton of questions... that's a good thing. I almost want to stop and think about the situation. Why does it take ten to hunt? When they capture women, do they also take married women? Is this a cause for war or celebration (ie a test of a warrior's skill demonstrated in simulated war.)

Musing on the joys of having a mate of his own, Lars set out on a southern course. As he had explained to the others, he expected to find a place where the ice had retreated far enough to draw out the girls from another tribe to search for roots and eggs. Besides, the familiar clans to the west and the east were probably just as whittled down as their own.

After a while Ivor took over and lead the way, making a path for the others across the vast expanse of snow-covered ice. The pale light of the sun did nothing to warm the day and the slippery patches of green or black ice were treacherous going. Just as the snow was hazardous for covering rents in the ice. More than one man had disappeared down such a gash to be captured inside the glacier forever.

I got a mixed view here. If they are actually living on a glacier with that sort of cravass I wouldn't expect their territory to ever melt to the point that they could gather food... but then I'm more familiar with jungle than glaciers. I only mention it because I was jarred out of my reader's trance.

By midday the three of them were squinting at the sky. The yellow disc was disappearing behind a curtain of grey, causing a weird light that seemed????? to illuminate the landscape.

"What'll we do? It will be snowing shortly." Ivor looked at the others, his pale eyebrows raised in question.

Knut shrugged. "I say we go on till it starts. We can have a shelter up in a few counts."

Lars nodded. "I agree. Let's get as far as possible." He grinned suddenly, his blue eyes sparkling. "The sooner we catch some pussy the better."

His friends laughed with him and the three of them continued south till the snow started falling. Most of it had passed them overhead so it was already close to sundown when they halted next to a large snow dune. It was a matter of moments to dig out a space big enough for the three of them and seal it off with a few hides. Making sure the wind would stay out was the most work. While Lars and Ivor took care of it, the stout but smaller Knut proceeded to make fire.

you're giving lots of detail, which I like. I am left wondering what they are using for the fire. Are they carrying wood or fat? Why isn't the fire melting the ice or drift that sort of thing.

As darkness fell, the three of them sat huddled around the flames of their tiny fire, their hands around a horn of fermented berry juice and their bellies filled with strips of meat. The falling snow had muffled all sounds and there was nothing to hear except the occasional crackle of the fire. Staring at the dancing sparks, Lars finally voiced the question that had been eating away at him ever since Ivor had managed to catch the gentle Helga.

"What is it like? To feel a woman's body I mean."

Ivor cleared his throat. "I guess I should tell you what I know, before you catch your own mates. I know I could have done with some advice." He sighed. "Too bad your fathers were swept away in the avalanche."

Knut mumbled his assent and Lars nodded too.

"Well, I suppose you two have seen a woman's body." Ivor snickered. "In fact, I know you have. I was there with you when we spied on our girls. But you haven't touched, have you?"

For a moment his face turned from serious to anxious. Looking was perhaps frowned upon, but touching was absolutely forbidden. No man or woman should join their flesh with the members of their own clan. The punishment for that was death, immediately. So even touching was looked upon as a severe crime, one Ivor would have to deal with no matter his personal relationship with the perpetrator.

"Do I look like an idiot?" Lars snorted in disgust that Ivor even asked such a question.

Knut popped his knuckles. "I won't deny I've thought about it - once - but no. I love life too much."

"Good." Ivor shifted on his pelt. "Now, I know I'm not an experienced father, but I'll tell you what I know. That should make it better for you two."

He picked up a piece of charred wood and sketched the outline of a body in the snow, indicating breasts and nipples with a few simple lines and dots.

"I like to touch and taste Helga's breasts. And when I do, these", he pointed at the dots on the sketchy breasts "get all hard and big and she starts moaning. She likes it too."

Lars felt his body reacting to Ivor's words. The thought of touching a woman's breasts was exciting and his cock lifted its head.

"I found out that it is wise to make sure Helga likes what I do to her body. The secret place between her legs gets all wet and hot then." Ivor licked his lips and one hand found its way toward his crotch, covering the growing bulge. "I usually feel with my fingers how wet she is and she likes me playing between her legs for a bit. Sometimes she even cries out just from my fingers going in and out of her slit. If she is very wet it's easier to slide into her. It feels better too."

Lars swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment as his hand found his stiffening rod and pulled it out of his leathers. He stroked his hot flesh as he listened to Ivor's voice telling them how soft and slippery and hot a woman feels when you plunge into her body. The sounds around him made it clear both Ivor and Knut were pleasuring themselves as well. He opened his eyes again and looked at his friends. For a moment it was just like old times, the three of them jerking off, comparing sizes and fantasies.

I've heard and read about circle jerks, but I've never known anyone who actually was in one. Again this might be a cultural thing. I find that perhaps anything that whifs of homosexuality is a big turn off for me. Don't ask why a woman sucking a cock can be a turn on while a man doing the same isn't... to each his own and I say viva la difference.

[/quote]


It wasn't like old times though. With a jolt of jealousy he looked at Ivor. He could stick his long and skinny thing inside Helga any time he wanted. The sudden image that thought provoked made Lars pump a bit faster and he heard himself moaning a bit.

"Have you ever done anything else to her?" The breathless question came from Knut. He was the smallest of the three friends, but his body was stocky and his cock matched the rest of him. Not very long but sturdy and right now the head was swollen and purple-red as Knut handled it with firm movements.

Lars watched Ivor grin as he stretched the skin of his long pole. It looked as if Knut's question had called up a pleasant memory and it took a nudge from him to bring Ivor back to answering him.

"Apart from kissing and feeling her breasts? And fingering her pussy? Well ... once I licked her there too."

Knut nearly choked. "You mean ... between her legs? What does that taste like? Can you smell a pussy?"

Ivor chuckled and let his hand run back and forth across his cock with slow deliberate movements, his thumb touching the tip and smearing the pre-cum over the entire length.

"Oh yes, it smells great and the taste. I tell you, it's like savory honey. Too bad Helga is not very fond of it. You'll like it though. I'm sure you will. I can show you how to do it, if we catch some girls for you."

Yeah right, Lars thought. I bet you wouldn't mind showing us, but I think I can find my own way to some pussy. The image of Ivor licking Helga between her legs was a powerful one however, and before long his seed spurted in the snow, closely followed by Ivor's and Knut's. Soon after they all wrapped themselves in pelts and Knut and Ivor closed their eyes while Lars took first watch.

Next morning they had to dig themselves out of a fresh pile of snow. Not too deep but enough to take some effort. It would make the going a bit easier since the new layer would provide more grip for their boots, but it would also ask for more care in choosing a path across the cracks and splits in the glacier.

The sky was that peculiar shade of grey that comes with more snow in the air and the white expanse gave off an uncanny light, reflecting against the underside of the clouds. If they were lucky they would find the first traces of another tribe this day. Lars sighed. After the story telling by Ivor last night he couldn't wait to find his own woman. Dreaming with his eyes open, he followed his friends across the snow, ever going south.

By midmorning they saw the first signs that the ice was receding and by the end of the day they could make their camp at the edge of the glacier. The snow that had been threatening them that morning was left behind on the ice. The plain before them was covered with young grasses and the few low bushes were sprouting new leaves. Lars studied the land with concentration, trying to find the best spot for their hunting. There were no smoke traces to indicate any clan in the vicinity but the plain looked inviting enough for foraging. He guessed there were loads of roots to find as well as eggs from the numerous birds he could hear. Even small game would be plentiful here. He nodded in satisfaction, convinced his plan would work out well.

"Shush." Lars motioned to his friends to keep their heads down.

The sun was almost at its highest point and they had finally found traces of foraging. The shrubs to their left concealed some bird or other; they could hear its warning call as the leaves rustled with the passage of a human body. Lars licked his lips as he kept his eyes on the shrubs. By sheer luck they had seen the girl enter without her noticing the three men concealed by the grasses and bushes on the burgeoning plain.

He looked back and gestured to Knut and Ivor, wanting them to circle the spot so they could spring on her from three sides. Both of them nodded and Lars waited thirty counts before he jumped up and sprinted towards the spot where the girl had entered the bushes.

Lars felt his heart thumping and his breath came in gasps from the excitement that was building inside him. The girl had looked ripe for the taking. Her reddish-blond hair unbound to indicate she was not yet paired up, she looked healthy and her long legs had called out to him. He pushed the stems of an overgrown lavender bush aside and grinned in anticipation.

Great!

"No!" The girl had her back towards Lars and cried out as Knut grabbed her around the waist.

"Yes! No use resisting girl. You're ours now." Knut grinned at her as he tugged at her clothes.

Lars came up behind her and got hold of her arms so Knut could slip off the leather tunic. The smooth pale skin seemed to call out to him and he let his hands slide down her arms to cup her breasts. The globes filled his hands with soft flesh and he squeezed in reflex.

The girl stood paralyzed for a moment, apparently taken aback by the sensations Lars' hands created in her body. She struggled anew however when Knut busied himself with the leather skirt.

"Don't you dare. You'll be punished for this." She tried to kick Knut in his balls.

Ivor chuckled. "Wrong girl. My friends here have every right to catch themselves a woman." Still grinning he got hold of her foot and tugged at it. With a thud she landed on her backside and for a moment she struggled to get her breath back.

Lars still stood behind her and he couldn't see all of her face, but as he knelt down to grab her wrists he buried his nose in the mass of her hair. It smelled of summer flowers and beneath it he felt the warmth of her skin. Knowing he would get his turn at her pussy anyway, he nuzzled her neck and tasted the flesh of her shoulders. He was rewarded with a small shiver running down her spine before she started protesting again.

"You shouldn't. I'm not just anybody. My father is the wise man of our clan. He will come after you."

Lars listened to her low voice and thought he heard more stubbornness than fear. He had never heard of a father getting his daughter back. Who would be so stupid? Daughters were meant to be taken away. That's what men did, bringing new women into the clan. What use was a woman you could not touch?

"No, he won't and you know it. Why do you resist the facts of life?" Lars half-whispered the words to her as his hands sought her breasts again. "You'll like it, us. I know you will."

His fingers grazed her nipples and as Ivor had said, he felt them harden and grow bigger. Encouraged he rubbed his palms over them as he watched Knut. The stocky man had finally worked the leather skirt off and stared at the curls between her legs. Lars saw they were the same reddish-blond as the hair on her head and for a moment he wondered if they would smell of summer flowers too.

Knut got rid of his own leathers as well and sank down on his knees, his hands on the firm white thighs pressing them open. Lars wasn't sure but it looked as if Knut took a deep breath before he touched her. It was exciting to see Knut touching the girl and she struggled a lot less. When he looked up he saw Ivor with an intent look on his face, his hand stroking his flesh that bulged beneath his clothes.

Even though he had offered to show them last night, he knew perfectly well he would not be touching this girl right now. He had his own woman and this one was for either Knut or Lars. It was up to them to decide which one of them would get to keep her and they were the first to fuck her. If there was going to be any sharing, it would be after one of them had claimed her as his.

Lars looked down again as he felt the girl move in a different way. She had stopped kicking at Knut and Lars saw her hips move a bit as the little man felt his way around her nether regions. Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth was a bit open. It looked so inviting; Lars bent down and kissed her lips. The softness was intoxicating and he sucked at her bottom lip, licked the inside and slipped his tongue inside the moist sweetness to explore her mouth.

A bit dizzy from the kiss he looked down into her face and noticed she had green eyes instead of the blue he had expected. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lids, her breathing heavy and her mouth half open as if she wanted to be kissed again. He obliged while his hands fondled her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers till she moaned softly.

For a moment Lars was afraid he had hurt her, but when he looked up he saw Knut had not been able to wait any longer. His sturdy rod was poised at her entrance and as he watched, Knut rammed himself inside with one heavy push. Ivor had warned them the first time could be difficult because some girls were sealed and it looked as if Knut was determined to get inside no matter what.

The girl screamed and bucked and Lars found himself stroking her face.

"It will be all right. You'll like it soon. I promise."

"It hurts. Can you make him stop? Please?" The green eyes were bright with tears.

He kissed her again and stroked the soft skin of her shoulders. "No, I won't. It's only natural. The hurt will pass. What's your name? I'm Lars and he is Knut." He chuckled as he motioned towards Ivor. "And that wanker is Ivor. He has his own mate."

Lars kept stroking her breasts and kissing her and he saw her face change from hurt to pleasure again. "What's your name?" He pinched her nipples and grinned when she moaned.

"I'm Nyssa." Her voice was a bit breathless and he saw her squirm as Knut pounded away.

The sight excited him and he felt his cock straining against his leathers. A quick look to the side showed him Ivor, rubbing his hard flesh while he stared at Knut moving in and out of Nyssa's pussy. Lars swallowed. He hoped he could restrain himself till it was his turn. To his surprise, it was his turn almost instantly. With a groan Knut threw his head back and shoved himself as deep as he could inside the girl. Apparently the new sensation of a pussy instead of his hand was too much for him to keep going for long. With a deep sigh he rolled away, to lie on his back beside the girl, a blissful smile on his face.

"Will you do it too?" Nyssa looked at him with an uncertain expression in her eyes.

It was clear she had accepted what was happening. She must know as well as they did, it was the way of things. But she looked as if she was not sure it was something to like or welcome. Lars felt confident however, he could make her enjoy it. Apart from what Ivor had told them, he had heard clan members often enough to know most women liked fucking as much as their men.

I have to say this sounds a bit strange. If the purpose is to get a mate, the chance that she might be made pregnant by another would seem to indicate that she wouldn't be shared before the choice was made. I just read a book called Commanche that talked about their sexual practices and they were a very sharing people, but not once a girl was mated or about to be... Men wanted to know that the child was theirs... I guess it's clear that I'm more interested in the anthropology than the sex.

Lars smiled and tasted her mouth again. He got rid of his coverings and moved between her legs. Then he licked her nipples while his hands moved over her body, feeling her ribs, spanning her middle and landing on the nicely rounded hips. His mouth followed his hands. He could feel tension beneath her warm skin and he used his hands to move her legs wider apart. He looked up at her and finally answered her question.

"Yes, I will. And I will make you like it." He grinned at the dubious look on her face.

He moved his hands on the soft skin from the inside of her legs, his whole attention focussed on her pussy. His first pussy ever and he licked his lips at the slippery warmth that seemed to call to his cock. His fingers explored the soft folds and he found her entrance. He inhaled the heady scent and bent down, his tongue eager to taste her.

Nyssa jumped at his touch and uttered a small sound. She really did taste like honey and Lars felt encouraged by her reaction. He let his tongue glide through her slit till he found a small bump at the top. He licked it and Nyssa made a kind of howling sound. He licked the nub again and again Nyssa reacted. Lars looked up for a moment and saw she had her eyes closed, her head thrown back. He felt a rush of power as he realized he was making her like that. While his tongue flicked the sensitive spot once more, he slid a finger inside her, curious to feel what she was like inside. It was hot and moist and it felt as if her flesh contracted around his digit.

Sprawled between her legs, Lars licked the little nub at the top of Nyssa's slit and moved his finger slowly in and out of her. He felt her clench and unclench several times and her hips bucked against his hand as she let out a whimpering sound and a deep sigh.

"What did you do? That felt so good." Nyssa's voice was a husky whisper.

Lars grinned. "I told you, you'd like it."

Call me squimish, but another's creampie would be a tun off.

Without further talk he grabbed her legs and draped them across his thighs, lined up his cock to her entrance and moved the head up and down a few times, reveling in the feel of her slippery folds on his hot hard flesh.

"Uh, uh, uh." Nyssa's breathing was getting heavier again.

It was all Lars needed and he plunged deep inside her, his cock pushing her walls aside. For a moment he remained without motion, the new feeling nearly overwhelming him. So hot, so tight, by the fathers, this was good. The feeling of her muscles stirred him to activity and he slowly moved out of her till only the head of his cock was still inside. Then he plunged back in and he was rewarded with a cry as Nyssa pushed back against him, wanting to take him in as deep as she could.

Oblivious to Knut and Ivor, Lars found a rhythm of moving in and out of that sweet pussy, concentrating on the sensations of his body and the reactions of hers. His hands moved up to her breasts again and when Nyssa opened her eyes they locked gazes till Lars felt his seed spurt inside her. He saw her eyes widen and she shuddered beneath him, crying out her pleasure as she dug her nails in his shoulders.

Slowly coming back to the world, Lars sighed deeply and rolled off of her. As he looked around his gaze first touched Ivor's than Knut's. They both grinned back at him and Knut nodded.

"Can we go hunting for me as well? After you've recovered?"
Lars laughed out loud. "I'll gladly take Nyssa, if that's what you mean. Are you sure? You were the first to touch her."

Knut shook his head. "Not saying she isn't sweet, but I think I want a girl more my size."

Lars eyed the long legged Nyssa and realized she was almost as tall as he was. He could appreciate Knut's sentiment but more than anything else he was happy with the prospect of having his own pussy at last. As if he laid claim his hand found its way down between her legs and he kissed Nyssa thoroughly.

"Do you have a sister more his size?" Lars tickled her folds as he asked her.

Nyssa tried to push his hand away and giggled. "Do you want me to betray my siblings? What makes you think I will do that?"

"Because you wish them joy and happiness too?" Lars grinned. As he shoved his fingers in her pussy she gasped and moved her hips, making small sounds in the back of her throat.

It took a while before Lars was capable of clear thought again and both Knut and Ivor looked relieved to leave Nyssa covered up again and tied down. Lars was not taking any chances of her sneaking off. But in the secure knowledge he had captured a mate at last, he was more than happy to go dear hunting for his friend.

--------------

Ok, here are my more specific questions:

• Is it a believable male pov?
  And did I finally manage to stick to one POV?

Yes, they seemed a bit simple but then they are supposed to be savages.

• Do you get the right time frame, early stone age?

No problem with the time, I did have more trouble with the local and frankly I wanted more cultural stuff, and more of the story... that's a good thing.

• As I said, I concentrated more on creating a feel for the historical contents than on the erotic part. Does it show? Good? Bad?

I didn't find anything really erotic... now this is a minor issue with me. There are many more male erotica writers than female. I'm very interested in the female responses I would have found this story much more interesting and erotic if it had been from the female POV. I'm a history nut and I love to see why and how cultures work or don't. So, I'd like to see more of that here. Did I already say that a few time? Sigh, I'm too young to be losing my memory.

• If I it is worth submitting, I think it should be as first time. Do you agree?

Yes, but I think you could make it much better. I know that I normally end up re-writing my stories at least three times (my editor is a slave driver) I think this could use at least one more.

Any and all other comments are welcome of course.

The only thing that gave me any indication of your gender was some of the poetry of your scenes. Interestingly you did it about place and I didn't get that feel about the people or events. The overall flow was smooth and I noted ever place where I dropped out of trance. This was much less than for most stories here. If I were giving it a mark I'd give it a 5 because that's all I ever give... I hate trolls. However, if I were giving it a grade I'd give it 82. I would say that 90+ would be something I'd pay to read.

I hope that helps.

 

[Joesephus]

How do you do this?

The only critique group I've ever been a part of was the Fish Tank. My stories are really too long for that group, but I found it very useful.

What I'm not sure about is if I should read what others say first. I've been reading the other critiques afterwards and most are so much better than mine.

would it be better to say where I agree or disagree with their posts?

 

[Penelope Street]

What I'm not sure about is if I should read what others say first. I've been reading the other critiques afterwards and most are so much better than mine.

would it be better to say where I agree or disagree with their posts?

It's really up to you. I think most of us read the story first, write our response, and then read the other comments and maybe even respond to those too. Don't discount your opinions- all of us have read other critiques and thought, "Why didn't I notice that?!" or "I wish I'd said it that way."

One little thing: It might be better to cut & paste only those sections you wish to discuss and not the whole story. If nothing else it makes for a cluttered thread, but I think there may also be some other issues for those with slower connections.

 

[Black Tulip]

The only critique group I've ever been a part of was the Fish Tank. My stories are really too long for that group, but I found it very useful.

What I'm not sure about is if I should read what others say first. I've been reading the other critiques afterwards and most are so much better than mine.

would it be better to say where I agree or disagree with their posts?

Hi Joesephus,

Thanks for taking the trouble. And never ever think what you have to say will be redundant. If only one person is stumbling over certain things, I could always think it's just him or her. If more people have the same comments, it serves to stress the point.

Like Penny said, I usually read and comment first. Afterwards I read the other comments and agree or disagree with those if I want to.

----------

By the way,Pure, I've edited the first post of this thread because there are now two people who commented on the old version. Perhaps it's a good idea to put a warning up if there is a second version somewhere in the thread?

 

[Otto26]

Okay, I very much enjoyed the story. It reads well, without any confusing sentence structure and if there were any typos or mis-spellings I didn't notice them.

I enjoyed the change in the point of view of the narrative and I personally feel that erotica told from the male point of view doesn't appeal to too many people. I liked the slight overlap in the two halves of the story. It helped to blend.

The minor cultural details were nice and really created a rich context for the story to take place in.

My minor nit to pick is some of the place names. Ugg? Sorry, but that's just too sterotypical to my mind.

I would like to have seen more information on why Nyssa becomes accepting of her fate. I think perhaps an increased element of Earth Mother worship on her part (praying for guidance, the perception of subtle signs) would have done it. Equally, you could use a cultural incentive. In a culture where women are essentially chattels, what hope would she have of finding a decent husband on her own? If she perceived that the hunters, and Lar in particular, valued her then the match might seem more acceptable to her.

Just my thoughts. BTW, I notice a real improvement between the first and second versions of the story.

 

[Ishikari_Dash]

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