Lost in the Light Ch. 06

Mule

How long had it been since he had been brought here? All sense of time came and went like the clouds that cluttered his mind and the ones that flew overhead in the sky. It was the drug -- the byproduct of a distilled bean resin that killed almost instantly, but assuredly. Knick a finger with a tainted knife, and if you cut off the arm soon enough you can save the victim. But once it entered the chest, it stopped the heart, the lungs, and all other organs instantly. There was no cure that was quick enough.

He focused his mind on simple facts to try and stay awake.

But he had learned a secret -- a self induced torpor. The poison decomposed in water, even the water in blood. If one could stop the heart quickly enough, and for long enough, the poison would grow inert before it could do any damage. However, waking up from torpor would be just as damaging, sometimes permanently. If one survived, the decomposed poison was also a powerful hypnotic drug. The master mystic that he learned this technique from took a month before he was back to his feet. It was a year before the master was ready to attempt it again. No other students that had attempted this had awakened again. No one had ever done what he had done. No one had ever beaten the poison.

He wobbled his limp head to one side and looked at his left arm. He could lift it. He could close the fist. But it was the only part of his body that he could move that well. His eyes worked, but it was always blindingly bright out, except at night. In the morning, once his captors left, he exercised his limbs and muscles to regain mobility. By noon, with the sun overhead and it being too bright to see, he covered his eyes with one of the tattered blankets around the nest and napped. In the evening, when they returned, they used him for recreation before all falling asleep.

They were Harpies, a dying breed of half men, half birds. They were the result of a mating between an elder Harpai and a large raptor. It was a crude necessity for a race banished and hunted by civilized peoples for their cannibalistic tendencies. Harpais and Harpies ate the dead -- just like scavenger birds. Their mother was a Harpai, a pureblood. She was ageless, immortal and powerful, but capable of being killed, just like her kin. There was no telling how old she was, or just how strong. But she was the one that saw him for a plaything, and so long as she was in control, he was safe.

Their nest was a cleverly constructed net of rope and rough hewn boards, probably salvaged or stolen from farmsteads in the area. It wasn't without accommodations; there were pilfered blankets, pillows, straw beds and a few trinkets that caught the Harpies' eyes.

Her daughters were a curious duo, constantly poking and clawing at his limp limbs -- playing their game of "does he feel that?" As of yet, they hadn't bitten anything of his off. Their mother amused herself with his manhood; every night she tried to arouse his flesh, but just like the rest of him, there were mixed results and little reflex.

He thought back to the last time he had encountered either Harpies or Harpais; he knew it had been a long time, but the memories just couldn't make their way through his muddled brain. Nothing much did. At times it caused him fits of panic -- usually sparked when he couldn't remember the last day, or how long he had been there.

Every time they arrived at the nest it was a startling discovery to see these winged sirens alighting in the air for a moment before landing gently in the quite nest. First their mother arrived, with her golden and white feathered wings folding gracefully around her form like a strapless gown. Followed by her children, their mottled brown and black feathers hanging relaxed down their backs like cloak - they cared little for grace and even less for modesty. Their naked bodies barely seemed nubile by human standards, but by harpy standards their under endowed forms probably served for better flight. He couldn't remember facts as he once did. Unlike their mother who was almost completely human-like, from the waist down her children had spindly, feather covered legs ending in raptor feet. Their faces had a slight animalistic-avian quality. Their hair was straight and thick, almost quill-like. Their faces were round and flat, more human than animal, but when they flashed their sharp teeth it gave them a terrifying countenance, even when they didn't mean it to. Not wanting to risk staring he rolled his head to one side and took his normal blank-stare position out towards the east.

"Hungry?" She spoke softly and came to nestle herself next to his head. She laid on her side, and one wing unfurled under her slightly to expose a heavy breast. He nodded his head honestly -- he hadn't eaten all day, and the drug in his system impeded any protest. "Eat then." She said and with firm arms pulled his weak head to her waiting nipple. His lips latched instinctively and he sucked. Something about her made it difficult to resist anything she told him to do.

The Harpai woman held her breath and let it escape slowly over the long pleasurable moments of his suckling. Her head slowly leaned back as her eyes fluttered shut. Her mother's milk flowed, and he drank it deeply without letting a dribble escape. For days she had nursed him back to health in this manner. He was too weak to hunt, and even too muddled in the head to eat what they brought him. It wasn't all too unpleasant for her either; in fact it made her want him all that much more. Their nest was more blissful with him here, he was warm at nights and her daughters would soon know the pleasure she knew, and eventually have offspring of their own. Their family would grow large enough to defend their home once again.

She was content, despite the alluring waves of pleasure from his feeding.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Yuma was nestled between his legs and staring at the limp flesh there. She had taught them what it was for, but sometimes their curiosity got the better of them. They had been sternly warned not to hurt him or bite him, and if they behaved themselves she would give them a treat.

"Harla, come preen your sister." Her voice caught suddenly in her throat from a surge of pleasure coming from her breast -- he had bitten a bit too hard. Harla, who had his hand in hers and was inspecting it over and over dropped it and crawled over to her sister who sat between his legs. "Yuma, you too." Yuma looked up from moving his limp thick meat back and forth to Harla and sat up straight.

Harla came to sit in Yuma's lap, wrapping her legs around her sister's bare waist, and their hands intertwined for a moment. They kissed softly, affectionately, as their hands started to explore each other's face and neck. Where they found a smudge of dirt, or an uneven tuft of hair, they licked and cleaned the other. Yuma pushed Harla's brown hair straight back, and in that moment their bodies were identical -- they were twins. But upon release, it sprang forward with a coarse spikiness of quills her sister's smooth black hair lacked. Yuma giggled.

"Stop it." Harla warned and nipped playfully at her sister's ear. Yuma squealed as her sister's sharp teeth drew a drop of blood. But Harla flicked her tongue over the bite and collected the crimson drop, and her sister's wrath was abated. "You've got grease all over your neck." Harla scowled and proceeded to lick it clean. It was Yuma's favorite spot to have cleaned. She always tilted her head way back and held her breath throughout it. "You're a messy eater." Harla said between long, licking strokes up her sister's neck.

"Can't help it." Yuma purred. "I like the juicy parts."

"You'll get fat." Harla chided and pinched her sister's side. Yuma moaned a complaint. Finished with her sister's neck, Harla glanced back at her mother's blissful, oblivious face as she nursed the human. "She seems to like that a whole lot."

"Mmmhmm." Yuma mumbled as she leaned in to lick clean her sister's chin and neck. Harla sighed delightedly as her skin responded to the attention. Preening wasn't so much a chore now that they were older. In fact it had grown more and more enjoyable in the last year or so. At first their mother said they were becoming women, but didn't explain it any more than that. Then, a few months back, their mother had started to teach them about taking a mate. It wasn't so interesting before when mother took men to their nest, but now that this man was here Harla couldn't stop staring at him -- he was a curiosity. Especially since her mother forbade them both from eating him. It didn't help that he looked tasty too.

A new sensation tingled across her chest, up her neck, and turned into a soft mew from her throat. She turned back to find Yuma preening her breasts. She wanted to protest and scold her for being silly, but for some reason when Yuma's tongue came out again and touched its wet, rough tip across her erect little nub, it sent shivers down her back and her breath escape in a delightful moan.

"It feels good right?" Yuma teased and licked the other one. Harla threw her head back, but stopped whatever sound was about to come out at her throat. "Good like how momma likes it?"

"Oh yes!" Harla hissed quietly, trying not to get them in trouble. Their mother would ignore them for a while during feeding. They had tried to rouse her from it a before before, but she wouldn't have them interrupting. "More please." She gasped and muffled her squeals against her sister's head as another wet lick electrified her nipples. Her hands instinctively came to cradle Yuma's head to her chest, and she started to nuzzle her.

"I'm next, don't forget." Yuma cooed in a quiet voice and teasingly started to lavish her sister's other breast. It was surprisingly pleasurable to the young Harpy to feel what their mother must have felt each night when she fed the human. No wonder she seemed to enter a trance and didn't want to be disturbed.

"Ow! Not so hard!" Yuma growled, as Harla was starting to knead her sister's scalp, and her claws had scratched. It startled her out of her daydreaming, and she recoiled her hands.

"I'm sorry!" she whispered, and attempted to preen the cuts she had made. Yuma was being inconsolable and instead guided Harla's lips to her own chest. Without another word Harla apologized by sending Yuma into short pleasurable spasms, exciting all the same nerves in her pert young breasts. Her tongue swirled around each nipple and she marveled how they grew long and hard. She touched one with her fingers and felt its firmness between them. Touching them was just as enjoyable as preening, by Yuma's soft mewing. Yuma mirrored her curiosity and together they explored each other's sensitivity. She liked it best when something stroked her budding nipples, but Yuma preferred to be pinched.

"I've seen her do this too," Harla whispered and slid her hand between Yuma's thighs. She found her sister warm and wet between her legs. Yuma's breath caught in her throat when Harla touched the outer lips of her maidenhood.

"More," she breathed. "It feels good." But the more Harla stroked her sister's wet lower lips, the heavier and louder her breathing grew. So Harla kissed her, and muffled the heavy mewing caused by her touch. Her fingers were getting wet, and one slippery, stubby claw accidentally slid up inside Yuma's cunt. The harpy suddenly went rigid, her wings stretched out, and she grabbed both Harla's shoulders for support.

"Careful, don't pull it out," Yuma whimpered, "it feels so good, but it hurts if you scratch. Move it slowly." Harla nodded and slowly moved her finger around inside. Yuma threw her arms around her sister and licked her ear and neck in an attempt to muffle a squeal of passion. "Keep going." She instructed, and Harla obliged. Apparently Harla had discovered something better than preening. Yuma's breathing grew heavier and she lost all focus or concentration. Her hips even started to move against her sister, causing a slight thrusting deep inside her. It wasn't long before something happened and Yuma whimpered and started to shake.

"I'm sorry, did I scratch?" Harla said apologetic and eased her hand out. Her sister let out a long pleasurable moan against Harla's neck and planted soft kisses under her chin.

"Noo..." Yuma panted, "It was really good. I've never felt that good before." She sighed and wrapped her arms around Harla's head. Her fingers caressed her sister's short brown hair and the stubby claws at the tips of her fingers combed it out. She had no words to express the experience, all she could do was caress Harla and sigh contently against her skin.

"My turn?" Harla whispered and licked a tuft of disheveled black hair back into place on her sister's head.

"I need a moment, that... that wore me out." Yuma sighed. "Oh, it's getting dark too." She sighed again and looked out at the setting sun.

"That's not fair." Harla complained. Her sister kissed her affectionately.

"Tomorrow night, once momma starts feeding." Yuma promised and disentangled herself from her sister. She crawled around the nest until she found her usually sleeping spot and curled up. A thick woolen blanket crumbled up on the sides conformed to her small body. One black feathered wing tucked up against her back, and the other draped over her like a blanket as Yuma settled in for the night.

Harla was left flushed and flustered, and she wasn't having it, not before sleeping. So instead she crawled up against this man's long thick leg and inspected his manhood more closely. It seemed to be very important to their mother, she had explained to both of them what it was for, and not to hurt it. But she didn't quite understand it all. It was so limp and squishy, there was almost nothing appealing about it.

Except for its smell.

The young harpy noticed that it had an alluring odor. Now that she was closer, it was starting to affect her more. She smelled him, and let it tingle her nose. Subconsciously her mouth hung open to breathe. It made her flustered feeling all the worse. Curiosity got the better of her and she gave it a quick preening lick. It had a curious taste. Not one that made her mouth water and inclined her to bite it, but rather she suddenly found herself preening him more. His scent and his flavor were very intoxicating.

Her long tongue travel up its length to the tip, and she tasted a small drop of moisture from it. It was salty and sweet and she suddenly found herself wanting more. But when she tried again, stroking his thick flesh with her tongue, no more came out. Curious, she squeezed it with her fingers as she moved them up its length, like squeezing grease from meat, and delightfully discovered another bead of moisture forming at the tip. Her mouth engulfed the head and she sucked, trying to get as much of the nectar out as she could.

"Carefully, dear." Her mother said softly. Harla jerked up suddenly and the thick appendage came out of her mouth with a wet pop. Her mother smiled knowingly at her abashed look. The human's head lay on a cotton stuffed pillow, asleep, and she was lazily stroking her fingers over his chest. "Keep going," her mother encouraged with a smile. "Just be gentle. Especially with those lower parts."

Harla nodded sheepishly and looked down to the limp flesh in her hands, and the sack of skin hanging from it. Somehow it seemed longer now, and was more spongy than flaccid. She continued to stroke it with her fingers. Her lips suckled the tip, and found to her amazement that it was responding to her touch.

Their mother crawled across the nest to settle in against the man's stomach and chest, she watched with a slight blush to her cheeks as her daughter caressed and coaxed the man's thick member. She had hoped to have the pleasure herself this evening, but her curious and impulsive daughter had beaten her to it. She took a moment to reposition herself to make her wings comfortable, by allowing them to fall gently down her backside as her daughters did, rather than pull them around her front. It left her bare and naked as they were, there was no more need for modesty now.

"It won't come out," Harla protested.

"Patience dear, it will take some doing." She smiled, as she leaned in to observe, to coach, and possibly to partake. "He is not awake. It comes much quicker when he is, but our guest is not well, and needs his rest. So we will have to make due and be patient." As she watched her daughter continue lavishing this man's cock with her long skinny tongue, her own hands drifted down her body in soft caress. It had been too long since she had felt another's touch. She suspected the hot flush from the feeding was responsible, but watching Harla's youthful curiosity explore this man was making her very excited.

"It's getting very hard, momma," Harla marveled at the thick throbbing meat between her fingers. It had grown to more than twice its length and width.

"Shh, not so loud dear, you might wake your sister. And then we would have to share." Her mother giggled a bit impishly.

"We're not eating him, so what are we sharing?"

"This..." she said and gave the taunting erection a soft stroke. "Only one of us can enjoy it at a time." Harla nodded in understanding. Her exploration with her sister explained how one had to give and one had to receive, but with her mother now -- there wasn't enough of him to go around. Harla was confused. "Ohhh," she whispered. Her lips kissed the tip and she sucked the head into her mouth.

"Keep doing that, so it stays nice and hard," her mother said and lifted herself up to move closer to Harla. Her hands touched her daughter's arm and trailed over her shoulder, down her back in a soothing caress. "Don't stop until I tell you," she instructed and let her fingers dance over the smooth skin of her progeny. "We need to get you ready for it first."

Harla sighed contently at her mother's calming touch, but when those fingers draped around her ribs to her breast and started to tease and pull at her nipple, she moaned despite herself. Dutifully, she did as instructed and continued to lick the man's thick flesh. It felt so good she wanted to just lay her head down and enjoy it, but she heeded her mother's words as a warm tingle grew between her legs.

Her dutifulness was not unrewarded, as if sensing her daughter's distress, the Harpai mother trailed her other hand over the firm round cheeks of Harla's posterior and gave them a deep sensual rub. Deft fingers knew where to touch and where to massage to make it pleasing to the young woman. On one such caress, a slender finger slid in between them and touched her waiting moist maidenhood. It was no accident, as two fingers spread her cheeks apart and started to massage her wet mound with knowing directness. Unlike her sister's inexperienced touch, her mother's was much more electrifying. Harla let out a soft squeal of pleasure and reactively lifted her rump into the air and spread her legs further apart. It was an instinctual response that made her mother smile.

Her mother's expert fingers kneaded and massaged her maidenly breast and its sensitive peak just as thoroughly as their companions parted her young vagina and pressed inside. They were gentle as they entered, but forceful, it was exactly what she needed to start lubricating. Around and around those fingers twirled and writhed inside her warm cavern until she was dripping onto the padded floorboards of their nest. Harla could not believe how good it felt. It was too distracting, and she couldn't stay focused on the task her mother gave her.

"There, this will do, love." Her mother's soothing voice cooed against her ear. "Rise" she gently commanded, and Harla obeyed. Following her mother's guiding hands she came to sit atop the man's waist. She looked down to find his firm manhood between her thighs pressing against her drenched mound. "Rub yourself against him dear, slowly, but firmly. Make his flesh wet like yours." Her mother said and placed her hands on Harla's hips to guide her motion. The harpy girl did as she was told; she started to rock forward, grinding against his meat. It felt so good feeling him there that a moan escaped.