Monsterboy Quest Ch. 01

She lay back against it, enjoying a moment of the sun's rays on her face. But quickly she began to sweat again. She lifted an arm and sniffed. The clean tang of perspiration greeted her. She felt, too, a warm wetness on her thighs, the trickle of sweat from her groin. The sensation sent a thrill along her spine. She sighed at the treachery of her body, wishing she was back near the coolness of the river.

Still, nothing else but to hasten on. The path would soon reach the river again. She eased herself back onto her feet, swung the pack over her shoulder. The rock the path was skirting was large and she broke into a run, wishing to find that sweet, shaded coolness of the river again, monster or no monst-

A flash of black and bronze. Something struck her hard in the chest and with a human cry of alarm and pain went sprawling back behind the rock. Levinja stumbled backwards, her feet skidding on the loose gravel, but she quickly regained her footing and shook off the pain of being winded. She drew her sword and peered around the rock.

A figure lay sprawled on its back in the middle of the track. Male, but not human, although the cry which had come from his lips had sounded so. No, the bronze skin, the shaggy mop of black hair, the widely spaced golden eyes and the tiny fangs visible in his mouth as he gasped out his pain revealed him to be a monster, a beastman-type.

He was a little shorter than Levinja, and from the slenderness of his frame and his lack of beard he was probably a young male. She approached. The monster's eyes went wide and he scrambled backwards. He was afraid of her!

Ah, yes. Her sword. It was quite intimidating. And he was just a young male, after all.

Levinja sheathed her sword and took another step forward. "Do you speak common?"

The monster stared at her.

"Common?" she prompted again.

The monster nodded. "Yes," he said, his golden eyes still huge.

The high voice of a boy. So he was as young as he looked. He must be around the same age as her youngest son, around half her own, just barely past the border between boy and manhood. He was no threat to her.

Levinja moved closer, her hands palm-down. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. I just wish to move past."

The monster, alarmed, rose to his feet. "S-stay away!" he cried.

A tail, a long tail with a bristle of spines at its end shivered from behind his back where it had been hidden by his body. He was a manticore!

Levinja stepped back. The spines of a manticore were potent with venom. Even a young one could-

In her haste her feet slipped on broken scree and she slid forward. The manticore cried out in alarm and swung his tail. Time slowed.

Ah yes. She remembered this dance. All those years of training, all those years of deadly combat came rushing back at once and her instincts took over. The manticore's tail swept through the air, a panicked, wild blow, but all the more dangerous for it. She leaned further forward, let her weight carry her out of the arc of the blow as she turned her fall into a roll.

It was very nearly enough. The tip of one of the manticore's spines grazed her thigh and she felt the wound sting with a pain far out of proportion with its size.

Still she flew forward. There was no going back now. But the young manticore's wild blow had unbalanced him and he stumbled forwards, his feet slipping on the same loose gravel. His arms flew out as he fell and grabbed at Levinja reflexively.

Time no longer crept by. Suddenly the swirl of green foliage and blue sky and grey rock as the two of them, in their strange, accidental embrace met the ground and rolled together like two lovers playing on a garden lawn.

They quickly came to a sore and dusty stop with her on top of him. Levinja scrambled up onto her hands and knees, still straddling the monster who lay prone on the ground beneath her, winded and gasping.

She tried to sit up. The scratch on her thigh was a line of fire now, the rest of body flaring like kindling with her movement as the venom flowed through her.

Levinja fell back forward onto her hands and gasped.

Heat flooded her body, a strange heat, like a fever, but without nausea. The venom was like liquid fire, pooling deep in her chest and her head and between her thighs.

Of course. A manticore's venom. In small doses it did not kill but instead ignited the blood, inflamed the nerves. Manticores in their lovemaking would often wound each other, but being almost immune to their venom the effect was one of a potent aphrodisiac. Sometimes, a manticore with ravishment on his mind would dose a human woman thus and enjoy the involuntary lust that his venom elicited in her body, making her eager to submit to his predatory embraces.

This manticore was young and had dealt her but a glancing blow. It was enough, though, for Levinja to succumb the effect of its venom. Her face flushed, her nipples hardened, and she grew liquid beneath the waist. Her skin tingled, the blood flowing fast just beneath the surface. Every sensation was magnified, the sharp dustiness of the gravel beneath her palms, the sleek muscles of the manticore's thighs between her knees as she straddled him, the sound of his soft gasping as he struggled for breath, the wild scent of his skin and hair, the smell of her own sweat.

Levinja's mouth flooded with saliva. She desired to strip the cloying and scratchy armour and clothes from her blistering skin, but the need of the fire between her thighs drove such thoughts away. The boy's face, contorted with pain, the wet pinkness of his lips and mouth, the smear of dirt across his freckled nose and cheeks, everything about him inflamed her passion further.

Part of her, in the back of her mind, knew the foolhardiness of what she was doing, knew that this was all just the effect of the venom flowing through her, swelling her already ardent need, but then her body and instinct took over, overwhelming her reason. She threw aside her pack and leaned down and pressed her hungry mouth against the boy's lips, tasting the delightful sweet thickness of his breath.

He gasped and his eyes flew open, the gold in them alight with sudden terror. Levinja pulled away, grinning, and the boy began to struggle. His legs pulled up beneath her and his tail twitched, making ready either to fight or flee. She took hold of his tail below the spiky end, grabbed his other arm and pushed him against the ground, forcing his legs to straighten as she weighed him down, her pelvis pressing on his. Then she kissed him again, her mouth finding his as he shook his head.

"Be still," she breathed. "I will not hurt you."

Her voice was deep, thick with desire, and did not sound like her own. The venom now dominated her body, drove all other thoughts from her head but her desire to satisfy her burning need, to possess this young male squirming beneath her.

He pressed his lips together, barring her entry to the delights of his mouth she had had but the tiniest taste of. Were her kisses really so hateful to him? She tapped the tip of her tongue against his lips, drew it along with a teasing lick.

The boy gasped again and Levinja, like the warrior she was, pushed forward her advantage. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, seeking his, finding it in that exquisite place of heat and wetness. He was delicious, the scent and flavour of his saliva sweet and yet masculine, his youth mixing with the earthy wildness of his monstrous nature. His tongue pressed against hers, no kiss but a desperate desire to push her from his mouth.

But Levinja would suffer no such discourtesy. She drew her lips from his, brought her mouth against his chin and neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses. Her tongue flicked out and danced along the length of one pointed ear.

The boy cried out and Levinja smiled. No male she had ever lain with had been able to resist such a move. Her tongue played with the sensitive folds of his ear and her nostrils were filled with the sharp animal scent of his hair.

For all the tossing of his head and his gasps, the boy's struggles had grown weaker. She brought her mouth back against his and this time he struggled little against the questings of her hungry tongue. Levinja pressed down on him, feeling the warmth of his body between her thighs as she covered him. Her blood quickened. She regretted her doublet, the cuirass that was still tied to her chest, and longed to feel her breasts with their hard nipples pressed against the boy's smooth, bronze body.

Her ardour made the stripping of her armour difficult, but her experienced fingers found a way. She quickly undid the thongs of her cuirass and pulled it away, then turned her attention to the laces of her doublet. Soon that was cast aside too, and dressed only in her tunic she was able to cover the boy without fear of crushing him. Now the centre of her lust, which boiled with the deepest liquid fire, could press against his most precious spot with only her tunic and his loin cloth separating them. She rolled her hips, rubbed against him and the boy cried out into her mouth. Ah yes. That wonderful hardness, the length of him growing between them as she teased him.

She let go of his tail and it fell back against the ground. She knew he no longer offered her any threat. No, his struggles were little more than the squirms of one being pleasured, his gasps ones of delight and need.

"Good boy," she murmured, pulling away. He would not try and escape, now. She kissed him along the jaw, down his neck to his chest, breathed deep of the male scent pooled there in the light tufting of his chest hair. Then her hungry mouth found a nipple and she slid her hot tongue across it.

The boy cried out and the soft nub hardened at once. Ah, he grew harder lower down, too. A nice length, not the longest she had ever encountered, but she knew it would not disappoint.

She flicked the nipple with her tongue before attacking his other. It was already hard and she mouthed it. The boy gave a little half-gasp, half-sigh and Levinja felt her heart swell in pleasure at the sound. Ah, the secrets a male's body held!

The venom still burned her. It would brook no more delay, no matter how much Levinja delighted in the pleasant teasing games of love. Anyway, the boy was ready, his member pressed against her hard and hot.

She sat back on her knees, straddling his thighs. He stared up at her, his eyes wide, his mouth slack, still afraid, but a fear subordinate to his own desire.

Levinja grinned down at him and drew the hem of her tunic up over her thighs. The paleness of her skin, so long kept from the sun, made the dark black of her pubic hair all the more striking. Her thighs glistened, awash with her desire, and the boy's eyes grew wider.

Perhaps he had had little experience with women, had never before seen one naked, she thought. He was surely around the same age as her youngest son, easily half her age and --

Levinja hesitated. What was she doing? Was she really going to --? A single heartbeat and the manticore's venom pumped through her again. Rational thought was washed away by the need of her body. Beneath her, the boy blinked, his mouth wide open, a look of confusion on his face, but also need. She leaned down, delighted by the look, and kissed him, softly this time.

His hardness pressed up against her own sex, the head brushing her most sensitive spot. Lightning burst along her spine, washing her with a wave of pleasure. Oh god. The venom... it intensified every pleasure tenfold!

"Good, good boy," she gasped, rubbing against him. "You are ready for me, aren't you?"

The boy gasped beneath her, gasped against the wet eagerness of her kisses. Fumbling with his tongue, he no longer sought to push Levinja's from his mouth, instead sought it out.

Her heart melted, flowed down to the centre of her being. She could wait no longer.

She reached down and encircled that delightful length, felt her desire grow stronger as the smoothness slipped through her hand. God, he was so hard, and already slick with her. She positioned her hips, brought the head against her dripping wetness and eased herself down upon him.

He speared into her and her cries echoed the boy's as her world dissolved in a surge of pleasure so overwhelming she thought she would faint. Oh god, this feeling! The feeling of a man inside her, of engulfing him. Was this how it had felt, all those times? How could she have forgotten?

The boy was staring up at the sky, his eyes rolling back into his head, his mouth slack, the inside wet and hot. Levinja, delighted with the sight, dipped her tongue into his mouth, joined the heat of her welling saliva with his.

She eased herself back off, slowly, teasingly, teasing both herself and the boy. His lips mouthed against hers and she drank in the ardent hot gasps from his mouth.

She stopped and broke the kiss. He was just barely inside her now. The boy looked up at her, his golden eyes wide with fear. But not the fear of before -- no, the fear that she would stop.

Levinja grinned lewdly at him. Then, her eyes glued to his, she rolled her hips forward and drew the entire length of him into her once more.

He cried out, but this time Levinja bit her lip to stop herself from doing the same. No, she wished to hold onto this incredible tension, this boiling heat that was filling her, worried that if she were to cry out, it was would escape with her panting breath, that the pleasure would lessen. She bit her lip and rolled her hips, her eyes never leaving the boy's as she fell back into that old instinctive rhythm, that beautiful moving together of hips that brought such pleasure to man and woman.

How long had it been? How many years since she had enjoyed a man? Her husband. No man since his death. But now, this lad, this young manticore.

Guilt flashed in her, but the venom burned it away. Her body cried out for this -- no, not just her body. Her soul as well. That terrible pressure, that terrible prison her body had made for her, where the only escape was the heated and guilty sliding of her fingers between her slick thighs, the squeezing of hardened nipples which desired the biting lips of a lover.

What must the boy be thinking, she wondered? His eyes never left hers, the deep gold holding a fire inside them. She knew that fire, that masculine desire, that need.

The boy lifted a timid hand to her waist, his fingers brushing the cotton of her tunic against her skin. The feeling electrified her and she flooded again. She reached down, found his hand and placed it hard on one hip.

He placed the second without her help.

Yes, that was better. He could guide himself inside her now, find the angle of his own pleasure. The venom surged inside her, but she was not selfish.

She humped the manticore, pushing down at him as thought trying to draw all of him inside her, her liquid desire thick in his sparse pubic hair. With his hands around her waist, Levinja's own hands were free. She lifted her tunic up further, desiring to be free of the constricting material. Distracted, she no longer rolled her hips with her earlier abandon, but the boy took up the slack, pushing himself up inside her.

Levinja could not stop herself crying out this time. This, this is what she had missed, that urgent desire of a man, pushing inside her, that urgent need to fill her with seed.

She lifted her tunic up over her still bound breasts and began to tear at her chest binding. She knew the boy would want to see her breasts bare, to have them pressed against him. All boys did.

But he was already growing harder. She could feel that familiar point in a man's rhythm, that jump in speed, when urgent thrusts became desperate.

She tried to slow his thrusting by easing the rolling of her hips, but it was no use. In truth, she did not want him to slow. She needed him to come inside her, to fill her to overflowing.

And so she matched him, smashing her pelvis against his. The brave lad kept up with her, his face contorting in pleasure and agony as he fought against his own climax.

The darling. He did not want this to end!

Forgetting her chest-binding, she took his hands off her hips, threaded her fingers in his and pushed his hands back against the ground. She had begun this fight and she would end it.

Her humping turned feverish. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, drinking deeply of his saliva. His breath was hot, coming now in delightful little cries.

Inside her he grew harder and hotter still. She felt his body tighten.

Now!

Levinja lifted her hips back one final time, then pushed herself down upon him, the whole of her heated slickness engulfing him to the hilt. The boy gripped her hands and cried out against her lips.

She broke the kiss to hear the final cry of his desire.

Heat and liquid exploded inside her, so much of it, all at once, bringing with it the final wave of her own pleasure. The boy's desperate jerks, the thrusting of his hips to drive his spurting member as far inside her as he could, to fill her womb to overflowing. This ecstasy, how had she forgotten it?

But her body remembered. Shuddering, she reached the summit of her own pleasure and biting back a cry she came.

She rolled over, the boy still spurting inside her, pulling him on top of her as she lay on her back, her heels hooking his clawed feet, her body hungry for all of him. She did not want any of it to flow out of her.

Was this still the effect of the venom, or her own desire? Surely the two had become one, long ago now. But she could still feel the venom burn along every nerve as her body, trembling, drew every drop of his essence from his pulsing body.

A final gasp from the boy, a gasp of exhaustion mixed with his pleasure, and she unknit her fingers from his. She slumped back, panting, and ran her dirt-smeared hands across the slick sweat of his back.

She found the base of his tail, stroked it. He muttered against her. The tail stayed slack, docile. He would not attack her. No, not after the delicious pleasure she had taught him.

He lay his head on her chest, his eyes hooded. Was he... was he going to fall asleep?

Levinja's heart flooded with happiness. Males. Monster or human, they were all the same. Her hands took her delight from his languid body, stroking the soft firmness of his buttocks and his thighs and the smooth muscles of his back.

He was soft inside her and popped out, and with him came a flood of their mixed juices. Levinja gasped, disappointed. Oh, if only they never went soft afterwards. The exhaustion of sex flowed over her, melding with the pleasant soreness between her legs, the sticky salt of her own sweat on her brow. Her body still pulsed.

The boy's breathing had slowed. He really was going to fall asleep. Levinja stroked his hair until his drooping eyelids closed.

He lay asleep on her. He was not so frightened now! Levinja stroked his back, delighted in the masculine weight of him on top of her, slight though it was. She felt a twinge between the legs. No! Surely she was not getting aroused again?

This time her desire lay like the embers of a fire, the pooling of the manticore's thin venom feeding it. She took delight in the warmth under her heart, although she now felt the sting of guilt. The first man she had lain with, after so many years, a mere youth, barely older than her youngest son, and a monster! She sighed. She hoped the gods would forgive her. But perhaps... perhaps they had sent him to her. Wasn't that what the Reverend Mother had said? That destiny was the gods leading us by the hand?

Levinja chuckled, her chest heaving at her thoughts. She was merely rationalising what had happened. The gods had sent this slim slip of a boy for her to take her pleasure from? Ridiculous.

Her soft laughter woke the boy. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. He started with alarm, his mouth opening, but Levinja stroked his back and buttocks and kissed his fear away.