The Calling Ch. 00: Prelude

She woke with a fright, instantly aware of the sharp, stinging pain deep behind her eyes, causing her to keep them shut tightly while clutching her temples on either side...

Forcing herself to squint with the right eye where she lay curled on the floor, she realized that the place she's in is only scarcely lit. As if the act of looking seemed to lessen the excruciating pain, she forced open both her orbs to try and take stock of her surroundings. Confused, she realized that opening her eyes indeed seemed to stop the pain completely, each blink causing a sensation of a pick seemingly thrust anew into her head between her eyes... Disregarding their perception in favor of the mental shock striking her upon realizing the implication, she lay still, eyes shot wide open, glaring blankly into the darkness, anticipating the torturous, scraping dryness that must surely follow...

But none did.

Again to her confused amazement she found that she was able to make out the rough textures of dark stone walls well before any discomfort from dry eyes. She felt...good. Comfortable. She attempted to blink once more, testing the possibility of the pain having simply been an illusion, but no... As soon as her lids got close to shutting out all of the little light, the powerfully sharp sting of pain returned right where one might expect a third eye, like a burning sword being thrust into her head...

Moaning loudly, she resigned herself to the fate of being forced to look upon whatever is in front of her lest she torture herself, hoping that this condition is only temporary.

Yet she felt no fear. Only anger. A slowly building rage from deep within her being. Anger at whoever or whatever forced her into this predicament. And with the anger, a heightening of her other senses.

She felt the cold hard stone pressing into her skin where she lay, curled into a ball on her left side. She felt the cool caress of damp, stagnant air brushing across her face, her body..

Her body. She glanced down when she realized the lack of the familiar feeling of linen, and saw, in the dim light, that there were none. Stark naked she lay on the cold stone floor, surrounded by crudely chiseled stone walls.

"Where am I?", she wondered, the first time she even attempted to figure out the details of her situation. Slowly she uncurled her legs, heaving her body up from the cold, damp floor with her hands, her body aching. How long must she have laid in that position for her body to be this sore? Achingly stretching and straightening her body upright, she studied herself to check for any bruises, running her fingers across her smooth, and damp, young skin, lightly pressing in places, though she could discern none. The touch, though her own, made her nipples twitch in the cold air and she subconsciously rolled them both between the thumb and forefingers of her hands to ease the itchy feeling. Surprised, a sudden rush of warmth enveloped her crotch area that caused a slight buckle in her knees... It surprised her how, in her confused and vulnerable state, her nipples could be so sensually sensitive, and just how quickly their caress could rile her up so..

Unconcerned with her apparently immediate need to find out how she got here she slid her hands from her pert breasts across her smooth flat stomach to the area between her legs...finding it smooth as silk, warm, and already deeply aroused, her folds eagerly swallowing the tips of her fingers with lusty wetness... Though the touch tempted her to continue, the smoothness of her mound prompted further confusion.

"Surely if I had been here for long my hair should have sprouted by now?" With her right hand she felt the outside of her thigh, expecting stubble, finding silky smoothness instead. The confusion caused her sudden arousal to subside and she straightened up once more. She tried to remember how long it usually takes for her hair to regrow after shaving, realizing that she felt as though freshly shaven - delicate, sensitive, and easily aroused. Finding herself unable to do so, she shook her head, chalking her inability to recall intimate knowledge of her own body at all up to her currently dazed and confused state.

"Probably need to get myself to an apothecary as soon as I get out of here...wherever 'here' even is!", she mentally noted, returning her gaze to the blank dark walls around her, trying to look for the source of the dim light.

Lightly leaning against and tracing the surface of the one wall with the left hand she slowly moved along it toward the direction she thought the soft yellowish light may originate.

Though barefoot and completely naked, the cold, wet stone surroundings did not make her feel cold at all. In fact, the soft hum of lingering arousal made her feel flushed and warm. Just this fleeting touch of attention upon her physical state seemed to heighten the sensation, the tiny nubs on her chest perking up, their skin pulling taut and erect.

As she moved further along the wall she began to make out the soft sounds of dripping water against stone. "Must be below ground with all this wetness on the stone...", she thought.

The faint yellow glow of light grew gradually stronger as she proceeded and made out what seemed to be a flickering. "Candle light...which means this place must be frequented by someone with at least some regularity", she deduced as she tried to make sense of where she found herself, and why.

"Fucking elves! Don't know why we need to even bother guarding the bloody skeevers down here. Not like they're going anywhere soon, not like they deserve food or any such." The loud grumbling, unmistakably nordic voice bellowing toward her all of a sudden, startling her into a pause.

Again, there's the twitch..., the tingling yearning for touch from her nipples, the damp itchiness between her legs. "Shouldn't I be afraid instead of horny?" she mused at her body's reaction to the sudden revelation that her naked young form may in fact be in danger of lewd exploitation by this clearly non-empathetic male character in her close vicinity.

Frowning, she wondered why her clearly vulnerable state would induce nothing but arousal, instead of fear... It was as if her mind and her body didn't agree on what their mutual existence in a single being needs in their current state, but she could not decide whether it was her body or her mind that's the traitor...

A loud cough by what sounded to be the same man roused her back to reality from her thoughtfulness, and she again gazed forward, leaning closer to the wall and crouching down so as to make herself less noticeable.

She looked back to try and see how far she's been moving since she woke and from the dim light pouring past her she now could make out only that she had been moving along an arcing corridor disappearing into the darkness, with no indication of ending. Only that it seemed to be like a curving hallway, perhaps encircling a central hub in this building, wherever this is. She considered what the man had said, "...guarding these skeevers...". "Am I in prison? No, surely I would be in a cubicled room then, not an arcing corridor... But the guy does sound like a guard..."

Frowning again, she continued her sneak forward, her right foot inadvertently kicking a small loose stone that had been hibernating on the cold cobbled floor as she swung it forward, sending it flying, clammering and clacking against the opposite wall. The sound echoed past her and, surely, toward the guard.

"Shit!" she mentally exclaimed to herself.

"What was that?", the man startled. She could hear the sound of a wooden chair roughly kicked back followed by urgent booted footsteps on stone flooring, quickly growing louder as the man approached her perch. "I swear if I catch another fucking skeever in this festering pit I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." the guard grumbled loudly as if trying to scare off whatever has caused the racket.

"He almost sounds afraid...," she mused, a smirk playing around the corners of her mouth. "Wait, why aren't I?!" she immediately wondered straight after. She grew more concerned that it seemed as if she was experiencing another being's feelings, almost as if looking through it's eyes. She realized then she had felt no emotion since she woke, other than the initial anger that seemed to be boiling deep within her. Yet she was acutely aware of every sensation in her body, and that very fact seemed to cause her to be in a constant state of mild arousal, rather than a feeling of vulnerability. It is then that, her mind focused on the information brought in by her senses, she became aware of the smell of sweat. Not her own. No, this was a male's, and one that had not copulated for some time...

Instinctively she drew in a deep breath through her nose, savoring the musky smell of a hardened male warrior. Though her mind struggled to fathom her seemingly amazing power of discerning the man's recent sexual history from such a faint whiff of his scent, her body reacted as if of its own accord, ultimately controlling her...

It was then that her own chaotic thoughts were suddenly replaced by what felt to be someone, or something, else's thoughts and a new urge awoke within her.

An urge, a desire, a need...to be seen, to be known, to be touched.. She promptly stood up straight, moving clear of the wall, stretching her body upwards along it's own length, standing tall, and unafraid to be discovered. It was as if she was watching herself, and yet as if watching the actions of another being in the same instant. She felt curious. Anticipating. And she became aware of her lips parting slightly...

The stomping steps of the guard grew close and she heard the sound of a sword being freed from its scabbard, to the ready of whatever lay beyond. And then she saw the shadow of the man approaching along the corridor, joining the yellow flickering candlelight on approach toward her. She could see the form of a warrior with his sword drawn in anticipation of a fight, yet she stood motionless, completely naked and bare, with no apparent defense. Waiting.

When the guard finally came round the bend and she came into his full view he scrambled to a halt, nearly stumbling over his own momentum, and froze.

The two beings gazed upon each other in sudden silence. The guard, staring. The woman, glaring.

"By the gods!" the guard exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Who are you!?" he demanded. "...and...and, where are your damned clothes!!?"

He was clearly startled, confused, shocked. Of all the things he must've expected, the woman doubted that the sight of a naked young girl standing in her full glory in front of him in a dark, cold, and wet stone alley would be among them.

The thought of his surprise roused her once again. While all human logic would dictate her to be cold, shivering, afraid, whimpering, and possibly begging him for help and kindness, she felt nothing of this. Instead she felt excited, energized. Her mouth parted further and her tongue darted across her lips to lend them moisture.

She lowered her head slightly, her unblinking eyes fixed upon the frozen man in front of her. She slowly shifted her weight across her now widened stance, legs parted slightly, a fire of lust breaking loose at their junction, and she arched her back slightly, perking up her breasts as if to give the guard a better view and she trailed her fingers up from her hips across her stomach to the sides of her voluptuous young female mounds, the tips of her fingers lingering, hovering just above her twitching, fully erect nipples...

"Uh..uh..ma'am...*cough*...can I, uh, help you, or something...?" the guard stammered, lowering his sword.

"Ooh yesss...you certainly can...handsome." The words slid out of her mouth like a snake might slither along the branch of a tree toward a nest of helpless chicks...

She was watching herself...watching the guard, spellbound by her own actions and the unfolding spectacle, as if trapped in some dark nightmare, unable to control her own actions. And yet, she was unafraid. Instead, she felt only hunger. She felt power.

She wanted him. She needed him. She shall take him.

*****