Sacrifice - The Departure: Part 2: The Horn

by T S Fesseln

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© Copyright 2006 - T S Fesseln - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF/f; F/f; bond; gag; collar; bath; ritual; fantasy; hist; mast; cons; X

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The Departure 
Part 2 The Horn

The Departure Part 2 The Horn 
The Horn Inn did indeed look like a castle from some old fairy tale.  It sat hunched in the center of a rolling meadow and was adorned with turrets and gables and sway-backed peaked roofs.  The dozens of lit mullioned windows reflected off the wide moat that surrounded The Horn.  The drawbridge to the inn was lowered and beyond the portal, one could see the stables and the stairs leading up to the main level.  A pair of giant antlers hung over the gate leading in.

To Naryla, it seemed to be a fairy king’s palace.  She had never seen anything so grand and ornament.  Every exposed beam was carved with serpentine dragons and whimsical sylphs and gargoyles of mirth, all of them oiled and gleaming as if made of brass. It was then that Naryla realized how naked she really was.  It was awful to be exposed before the people she knew and grew up with in the village.  But now she was going to be nude in front of people she did not even know.

“It will be well,” Jarial said, sensing Naryla’s thoughts, “You are not the first Chosen One to step through The Horn’s doors.  It is an honor for you to be staying here and they will treat you with a reverence of priest.  Be proud of who you are, Chosen One.”

Jarial rode up beside her and arranged her long blonde curls over her shoulders, “Chin up, Chosen One.”

Naryla took a deep breath and continued.  Tyraal noted her strides were a bit longer and she arched her back just a bit more, holding head high. Even though she had her hands bound behind her back and she wore a slaves collar and gag, she still moved with the grace of a deer.  He knew she was special and she would make him proud when she approached the high altar on the twelfth day of spring.

The two Guardians and the young woman passed over the bridge and through the gateway into the inner courtyard.  Both of the knights dismounted and Jarial led the horses to one of the stalls lining all four walls.  Two merchant’s wagons were parked and a half dozen other horses eyed her from their stalls.  A lone stable boy on no more than a dozen years stepped out of the shadows, but Jarial waved him off.

“Come, Chosen One, let us get a comfortable bed tonight,” Tyraal said, bringing her lead up short and easing her up the grand staircase opposite the gate.

At the top of the stairs was a huge open doorway that spilled warmth and laughter out into the spring evening.  Tyraal just walked in with Naryla in tow, as if she was special and extraordinary. There was two dozen or so customers seated around the huge round tables that filled the drinking hall and as all fell silent when Tyraal and Naryla crossed the room.  She felt every single eye on her but she kept Tyraal’s words in her mind.  She did not hide her head in shame, though she felt her cheeks flame up. 

“Gulmon!  Gulmon Thorn, I need a room for the night,” Tyraal called out loudly, “Damn the makers, I need a good bed!”

Naryla had never seen a giant before, but she thought she was seeing one now.  A huge man with long, braided hair and a toothy smile as wide as a canoe stepped out of a doorway with a tray full of dripping mugs.  He stood nearly three heads taller than Tyraal and was as thick as a wine tun.

“You will not find one here Guardian,” Gulmon thundered back, “there is no good beds for the likes of you!”

“You are right about that!” Tyraal laughed, “there are no good beds period!”

The giant innkeeper set his tray down and gave Tyraal a huge hug; one that Naryla thought would surely crush the warrior.

“However, for the Chosen One, only our finest room,” Gulmon smiled and knelt down before Naryla, “It is a pleasure to serve you, Chosen One.  My home is your temple.”

Tyraal fished a pair of gold coins from his pouch and pressed them into Gulmon’s palm, “The Dragon will always watch over you, my friend.”

“Follow me,” the innkeeper gave a hearty laugh, “And what are all of you staring at.  Have you not seen such beauty before?  Go on with your games and keep your thoughts on your wives and lovers.”

The giant lumbered before them.  Naryla could see that the inn was built around him.  All the doors and hallways were as large and massive as he was and all had whimsical carvings of some sort upon them.  A pixie of wood peeking out from a doorframe or a troll squatted lazily against an exposed beam picking his teeth.

“And where is the fair Jarial?” Gulmon asked almost in a whisper.

“Tending to the horses, my friend.”

“We have stable boys. That is their job. She shames me, thinking that her horses are not under the finest care I can give them.”

Tyraal shrugged, “She lets no one take care of them but herself, not even me.  She says something about a man not knowing the true nature of the horse.” 

“Women,” Gulmon snorted, “no offense, Chosen One.”

Naryla smiled around her leather gag.

Gulmon stopped at the door at the end of the hall and unlocked the elaborately carved door before stepping aside and letting the warrior and the young girl inside. The whole room was made of gold, Naryla thought as she stepped into the room.  All the wood there gleamed a light amber as if coated in honey.  In the center of the room was a large bed, it’s bed posts carved in the shape of flowering rose vines and it’s canopy a gossamer pink.  Naryla could see the thick, soft blankets had been pulled down and several pillows were piled at the head.  When Naryla looked closer, she could see several carved faeries lurking amongst the leafs and petals.

In the room there was also a table, a clothes rack and four chairs carved in the same manner.  In the corner was a large wooden tub carved in the shape of an open rose.  A dozen or so candles lit the room and she could smell the dusky sent of rose in the air.  There was even a small stone fireplace with flames already licking around a large log.

“If there is anything I can do for you or your Guardians, Chosen One, please let me know.”

“Just a simple meal, my friend.  I miss your stew.”

Gulmon smiled, “I will bring enough to fill you twice over then!” With that, Gulmon left. 

“Relax, Chosen One,” Tyraal smiled, “I will remove your gag as soon as Jarial returns and our meal is served.”

Naryla looked around and saw a padded bench beneath one of the narrow mullioned windows.  She sat and looked outside and saw the sky was a swirl of heated red and oranges and grays as the sun set, silhouetting a sheer talon-shaped peak. Tyraal leaned over the young woman to see what she was seeing, “That is Taloncrag, Chosen One.  That is where we are headed.  The Temple lies just below it.”

Naryla noticed that Tyraal had removed his helmet.  She had been anxious to see what he looked like and now she was afraid of staring at him.  He had a squarish face that was not harsh of line like some men and he had a head of sandy-colored hair neatly bundled into a long ponytail.  His eyes were what drew her in, however.  Those grey-blue eyes always seemed kind, not the eyes of a hardened warrior. 

“I grew up there, Chosen One, below its snow-capped peak.  In the autumn, when the sun sets, it burns the whole peak red and it seems as if it is on fire.  They say it is the faeries saying farewell to summer.”

Tyraal looked down at his ward and their eyes met.  Naryla glimpsed what Jarial undoubtedly saw in them when Tyraal and her shared a bed.  The young blonde woman felt a stirring inside of her caused by this Guardian, something she wasn’t quite sure about but it felt warm and pleasurable and unlike anything she had ever felt before. No, stop it! Naryla chastised herself. There was a knock at the door.

Tyraal stepped to the door and pressed his hand against it, then smiled.  He unbolted the door and Jarial stood there, saddle bags over her shoulders and a smile on her face as well.  Without a word, she stepped in, kissing Tyraal on the cheek.  He gently shut the door.

“Gulmon says his stew is on its way, as well as several mugs of his cider,” Jarial said, setting the bags over one of the chairs.

“That is thoughtful of him,” Tyraal replied.

“He also said that you should carry your own bags in and not let such a wonderful lady such as myself do it for you.”

Tyraal’s face screwed up in mock horror; “I had important things to attend to.”

“Such as parading the poor Chosen One around like a champion horse,” Jarial said with hands on her hips.

“She needed the practice, Jarial, before we arrived at the Temple.  You know that as much as I do,” Tyraal said sternly with a tone that Naryla had not imagined the warrior ever speaking.

Jarial hung her head down, “You are right.  Forgive me.”

“Take off that helmet and we will see,” Tyraal smiled quickly, the anger misted away.

Jarial took off her helmet and then knelt at Tyraal’s feet, hands clasped behind her back and her head bowed down; her long, auburn hair covering her delicate face.  Tyraal bent down and kissed her on the forehead, whispering something to her that Naryla could not hear and then gently kissed her on the lips. There was another knock at the door.

“Dinner is served,” Tyraal said as he approached the door.

Once more he put his palm against the door and closed his eyes.  “It is Gulmon,” he said, opening the door.

The giant stood at the doorway with a tray of bowls, bread, cheese and cider.  The smell of the venison stew wafted through the room and suddenly Naryla realized how hungry she really was. 

“You will not eat this well again until you pass by here again,” Gulmon said as he sat the tray down on the table.

“You do not know how right you are, my friend,” Tyraal replied grinned as Jarial gave him a look that would smolder a dragon.

“Be well tonight,” Gulmon said as he left.

“And the Dragon protect you, Gulmon Thorn,” both Tyraal and Jarial replied.

Jarial had not got up from her kneeling position and her head was bowed again as Tyraal turned around to face her, “Come on, sweet Jarial, let us get comfortable and eat.”

Jarial got up and began to help Tyraal out of his armor, unbuckling his breastplate as well as his greaves and vambraces. After she carefully set the armor aside, Tyraal helped Jarial out of her armor.  As he unbuckled her plates, he kissed her upon the neck and behind her ears and Jarial laughed lightly at his whispered words. Both of the warriors were now dressed in simple shirts and pants and both looked much relieved to be rid of the burden of the armor.  Tyraal went over to the Chosen One.

“You would like to be rid of that gag, would you not, Chosen One?” Tyraal asked needlessly. Naryla nodded.

“The same rules apply here, Chosen One, as they had in the woods.  I do not want you to speak one word.” Naryla nodded again.

Tyraal reach underneath the girl’s long blonde hair and unbuckled the gag; gently pulling it from her mouth.

“Come, let us eat.  You must be starving,” Tyraal said as he pulled out one of the chairs for the Chosen One.

Tyraal sat between the two women and breathed in all the delicious aroma of the bowl in front of him.  Jarial had already tore off some chunks of bread and with gusto, Tyraal took a piece and thrust it into the bowl and took a bite.  A calm, peaceful smile crossed his face and he then offered Naryla a bite. It was as good as Tyraal had said.

Tyraal took turns feeding himself and the Chosen One while Jarial ate and cut portions of the cheese and bread for all of them.  It was not like at home, when a meal was catch as catch can during the bustle of the inn.  This felt oddly formal to her though she thought that it probably didn’t feel that way to the Guardians. The meal filled Naryla and she had to shake her head no and seal her mouth to keep Tyraal from overstuffing her.  The meal slowed down and all three sat back and relaxed.

“I think I shall draw a bath for the Chosen One and myself,” Jarial said, getting up from their table, “It would seem a waste not to use what Gulmon has so thoughtfully provided.  Would you like a bath, Chosen One?"

The blonde woman nodded but tried to display her cuffs.  She was afraid that the water might ruin them and make them uncomfortable to wear.
“You need not worry about those, Chosen One,” Jarial said, “bathing will not harm them.”

Jarial helped Naryla up and took her to the tub.  There was a polished brass spigot in the wall of the carved tub that the Guardian turned on and there was a rush of warm water. 

“The water is heated by running the pipes down the chimney flue,” Jarial explained, “It is so nice not to have to cart the water from the kettle to the tub.”

As the tub filled, Jarial first took her shirt off and then her leggings. Naryla noticed that the brunette was much more slender than she had thought; her armor making her look much larger in build.  Jarial’s breasts were not large but they were well formed with small, dark nipples crowning them.  The woman warrior did have nice hips and long legs compared with her size.  Between Jarial’s legs was well shaven, Naryla noticed, and oddly attractive.

Jarial stepped lightly over to her saddlebag and pulled from it a light leather bag.  From it Jarial sprinkled into the tub a mixture of dried herbs and flowers, the same mixture her mother had sprinkled into her tub at home.  Soon the room was filled with the scents of the forest and meadow.  The brunette then knelt down and removed the hardened leather shield that was between Naryla’s crupper and her sex. 

“Come, Chosen One,” Jarial stepped into the tub and offered her hand to Naryla.

The water was just a tad on the warm side and Naryla could see little wisps of steam rising from it.  However, unlike the bath this morning, this one was one of relaxation and enjoyment.  The rose shaped basin was large enough for both women to sit in and the young blonde settled opposite Jarial so she could at least enjoy the warrior’s company face to face.

Both women closed their eyes as the warm water eased out the aches of the journey.  Tyraal watched them from his chair; feet crossed upon the back of another.  He had his desires since he had laid his eyes upon the Chosen One as well as for his companion.  Normally, Tyraal did not entertain such thoughts while escorting one of the young sacrifices.  He usually kept his mind focused on where they were and what surrounded them.  However, The Horn was one of the safest places he knew save for the Temple and his home and the thoughts of him and Jarial coupling kept swimming in and out of his head. 

“This is good,” Jarial said, looking at the Chosen One, “I have not had a warm bath for a week.  When you live your life in the saddle, such things as this are as precious as jewels.”

Naryla smiled.

Jarial scooped up some the water in the palms of her hands and poured it over herself before doing the same to her ward, bathing both her and Naryla in the fragrant water.  After both were drenched, Jarial reached over and got the sponge and hardsoap.  Both of these were some of her most coveted possessions she carried with her on her patrols as a Guardian.  She dropped the chunk of soap into the water before scrubbing the sponge with it.  The thyme-scented soap soon frothed over the sponge before Jarial took it and began scrubbing the Chosen One’s shoulders and back as much as she could.

Naryla felt a bit of warmness inside her as Jarial bathed her.  It was a very through scrubbing and it felt very good, like a warm hug from a dear friend.  The Guardian sponged her arms and lower back, asking Naryla to stand to do so.  While still standing, Jarial began to rub the rough sponge over the young girls collar and upper chest, slowly making her way down to her breasts.

Jarial spent extra attention to the Chosen One’s breasts, slowly massaging them with the soapy sponge.  The roughness of the sponge sent little ripples of pleasure through Naryla as it rubbed over her pink, erect nipples.  A little moan escaped the blonde’s lips as Jarial continued to soap Naryla’s large breasts.

“Are you enjoying this, Chosen One?” Jarial asked.

Naryla almost forgot herself and answered the woman, but she caught herself and nodded.

Jarial used her hands to rinse off Naryla, then, leaning over, she gently took one of the Chosen One’s nipples between her lips and planted a small kiss first upon one and then the other.  Each kiss became a bit more passionate and Jarial began using the tip of her tongue to flick at the erect nub; teasing it.  The young blonde closed her eyes and let out another little moan.  The ripples of pleasure were getting larger and seemed to warm her womb.
Then Jarial stopped. When Naryla opened her eyes, she saw Jarial holding the white leather gag.

“I do not want you to break your silence accidentally, dear Chosen One,” Jarial gave the young girl a tender smile.

Naryla reluctantly opened her mouth and accepted the leather ball.  Jarial was very careful when buckling it tight that she did not pull upon the Chosen One’s hair.  When the gag was tight, Jarial kissed the young girl upon forehead. The Guardian stepped out of the tub first and grabbed a towel that was lying upon the bench.  Carefully she dried herself off completely before helping Naryla out of the water.

The young girl felt as if Jarial would leave no spot on her untouched by the towel.  The fabric was as soft as was the Guardian’s touch.  Again, Jarial paid attention to Naryla’s breasts, rubbing the cloth over them until the warrior was sure they were as dry as they could be before Jarial leaned down and gave them each a gentle kiss. Naryla was not sure as to how to feel or act.  The woman’s kisses felt warm and wonderful, but inside Naryla felt that this was somehow wrong and shameful.  Surely Jarial would not harm her and perhaps this was part of the ritual that the priest had not told her about.  So much of this was new to her.  These feelings of pleasure. . .

“Are you afraid, Chosen One?” Jarial asked in a whisper. Naryla nodded her head slightly.

“I will stop if you want me too, Chosen One.  Do you want me to stop?”

Naryla shook her head slowly.  These new feelings of pleasure surely were not bad.

Jarial led her ward to the bed and eased her onto it.  Underneath the gossamer canopy the smell of rose lingered on the air like a morning mist.  Jarial climbed in beside her.

“Just enjoy, Chosen One,” whispered the lithe brunette, curling up against the young woman.

The warrior brushed her young ward’s blonde hair back and gently kissed her behind her ear.  Naryla closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of first one kiss and then another, kissing her upon her cheek.  Jarial’s small kisses trailed over Naryla’s collarbone and upper chest before taking the Chosen One’s erect nipple into her mouth again and teasing it with her tongue. Naryla let out another small moan.

Jarial smiled and continued to pay attention to the Chosen One’s breasts by licking and nibbling until Jarial felt the young woman starting to respond with her whole body; pressing against the warrior. Naryla began to move her sex against the chain that still ran between her legs.  The small links rubbed up and down and over her pearl, sending rushes of bliss through her like a warm breeze fanning some smoldering fire down inside her womb.  She rocked her hips and pressed herself against her Guardian, felling the warmth of her body against hers.  Naryla was not afraid to moan again as she had on the road.  Somehow, it helped the flames of pleasure grow higher.  Oh, how Naryla desired for the rapture to engulf her again.

Jarial’s tongue and hands were adept and she played with the chosen one as if she were a lute or a harp.  Her fingers felt up and down the young woman’s body, feeling all of her curves and valleys while her lips did the same.  Jarial felt her own body awakening and her on rapture starting to swell inside as she thrust herself upon one of the Chosen One’s thighs.  It was not like with Tyraal, of course.  There was absolutely nothing like having Tyraal pushing himself inside of her, filling her, making her feel complete.  However, Jarial enjoyed her times with other Chosen Ones and awakening them to the pleasure of the bed. Naryla’s mewls through her gag became louder.

The young blonde sacrifice continued to work herself against the chain and she could feel the pyre within her was growing hotter and hotter, filling every corner of her soul.  Jarial was now gently biting her nipples and squeezing Naryla’s buttocks as the woman warrior rode Naryla’s thigh.  The Chosen One could feel the warrior’s moistness upon her leg and smell it mingling with her own creating an incense that seemed to fuel her fires.

“It is okay, dear Chosen One,” Jarial whispered into her ear.

Naryla was near tears as she felt the burning pleasure continuing to engulf more and more of her until a white-hot whirlwind of ecstasy devoured her completely and her body was not her own, writhing and bucking under the blissful attack.

The feelings of the Rapture slowly ebbed away, leaving Naryla feeling weak and wonderfully warm inside.  Jarial was still kissing her tenderly about her person, but her motions upon her had slowed and grown more like two kittens curling up against each other.

“It is time to sleep, Chosen One,” Jarial spoke very softly, “We have a long travel ahead of us.”

The warrior woman kissed the young blonde upon the forehead. “Close your eyes.”

The Chosen One did as she was told and was soon fast asleep.




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