Valentine Special: Together Forever
Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 3:24 am
I always wanted to do a Valentine-oriented story. I'm afraid that this will probably be the last story I post for some time, so I hope that you enjoy. Happy Valentines Day everyone!
The cell was darkening when they brought him his dinner. They hadn’t been skimpy on it like they had been with other prisoners in the small village lockup, but he got his fair share of jibes and sneers. This was supposed to make him into a good boy; let him know just how badly he had done wrong by his people and his religion. Well, they could talk all they wanted. The entire time, while repenting and listening to the priest’s worthless drivel and making every promise to his uncle and cousins, he was thinking of nothing …except her.
Arthur had been in his cell for less than a fortnight. In two days, he would be out. But then, how would he find her? The townspeople would parole him for months, eying him, following him, berating him, making every possible excuse to get him in trouble again. The men would be the worst; they always made fun of how he had consorted with a…
He nearly wretched at the thought. The things they had called her. Those awful, awful words. They refused to see her as a human being. She was different, and she did things differently than the Settlers. But that was the way things had been done on the islands for centuries before they settled there in their massive ships, building farms and ranches and orchards where they never had been before. And wanting nothing else but the islands, where the People had been long before. What right had they?
Arthur never disrespected her because she looked different or worshipped the Earth. She was a strong, swift huntress, beautiful in every way. He could still imagine the sparkle in her violet eyes, the smooth, unblemished sheen of her skin, the faint scent of pine on her hair…
He had to return to her. But their worlds would never allow then to be together. They would fight endlessly to make then unhappy, to pull them away from one another.
But they would be together, forever. He would see to that.
The guards were lax, and had developed a noticeable routine in their vigil. He had developed his plan for days, always preparing for the worst. She had taught him techniques for making tools out of whatever was immediately available, and he, always the curious one, knew the inner makings of metal locks intimately. Between the two, fashioning a wire from the bed frame or a chicken bone into a lock pick would be child’s play. As soon as he knew the guard’s hiatus, after making a show of placing themselves in covert positions, Arthur was free.
He had to move quickly. His plan depended on their not noticing his departure and therefore forcing him to runaway, lest he be recaptured and subjected to an ever harsher sentence.
“Come now, Pearl. You are behind on your chores as it is.”
“But Mama, it has been weeks. Why am I still not allowed to hunt?”
“You know perfectly well why.”
“I promise I will not go anywhere near the village. The other hunters will be with me, there will be no worry.”
“It is not a question of that. You will never see than odd-skinned tree-hacker again, that has been established. You must learn, and learn well, that this kind of behavior is unacceptable to the tribe. Its good must come first.”
She wanted to say that their love would never endanger the tribe or the town. But it was no use. No one ever listened. The one friend who may have understood was gone. The sense of loneliness, of the world against her, was overwhelming at times. It made her think back to the circumstances which had cost her her friend.
Pearl had always been a loyal huntress, having proven her skills in a role which had been universally exclusive to men. To their chagrin, she was a better tracker, baiter, and shot than most of them. They could have associated her unusual skill to the People’s witchcraft lore, but she had also proven herself a competent debater and knowledgeable shamaness. Whatever claims they made, she was always ready to counter them. The best strategy on their part was to leave her be.
Her trysts with Arthur, however, streached their tolerance to the limits. It would be a waste to lose her and her generous contributions to the tribe, and what could they do with her? They were not a violent culture, and she was a mere beguiled girl in their eyes (despite her years). It was agreed that her freedom to hunt would be revoked and she would be removed to a village further along the coast. She made no attempts to escape, knowing a hostile wilderness awaited her, but patiently waited until she and her unhappily displaced mother were returned to their home.
They had come back, their chiefs satisfied with a rumor that the young man had been thoroughly incarcerated and would not prove a nuisance. Pearl was devastated.
At night, she would fantasize of Arthur, his sky-colored eyes, golden hair, tall, powerful body, like the Earth itself moving underfoot. She enjoyed the sight of him, his kind face, thick muscles moving under flawlessly bronzed skin. When he was inside of her, she felt like crying out to the sky, so completely did he fill her. She could not, though; any sound could have given them away.
Their time had been wonderful. She would bring freshly gathered fruit, he his people’s tea and grains and they would eat together, make love on the soft grass, swim in the river, even wallow in the mud. Their love was a passionate as it was playful, and they enjoyed laughing in one another’s arms as they writhed in ecstasy.
It was paradise.
Every time, her eyes would wander to that place where she had lost her friend. Somehow, with hostility escalating between the People and the Settlers, that memory had been recurring to her more often.
Topaz had been an extremely beautiful girl. Both had barely blossomed into womanhood, and it was clear that the two of them, however modest, would break many hearts once they had chosen their mates. Pearl had been the more daring, though, fighting for her right to hunt, playing rough games with her male peers, and making her own bow and arrows. Topaz did the more “womanly” chores of planting, gathering, crafting, and home maintenance. Both were quite good at their accepted roles in life. More importantly, both respected one another for those roles.
The two young women were inseparable. For their differences, the two could be found exploring the woods, swimming in the rivers, and having long conversations of their discoveries. For all the casualness the People treated the human body, Pearl could never help but admire Topaz’s form when they removed their buckskin robes to swim. Her bright green eyes seemed to look deep into her spirit, and her body was ample and fit, with the flowing curves indicative of valuable fertility. Topaz would always comment that Pearl’s body was even more so, symmetrical like a flowing stream. She always laughed at that, never acknowledging any special beauty of her own.
The two had been gathering fruits, the tribe’s favorite. For the most part, save for some unfortunate skirmishes resulting in injury to both parties, hostility between the tribe and the Settlers had been minimal. They had still been warned not to stray too far from any encampments, shocked as they were with stories of the ravenous lust of male Settlers. Pearl had her bow, so they felt safe while returning to camp. Topaz had felt warm that day so the two had chosen to stop for a spontaneous swim. Not one to argue such a point, Pearl quickly shucked her clothes and moccasins and dove after her friend.
After a few minutes, Topaz chose to be more spontaneous. “Let us go explore the other side of the river, Pearl. We have not ventured too far into those shadows and it is away from Settler territory.”
Pearl was wary, as befitted her instincts as a tracker. This was not her friend’s usual behavior. “But Topaz, that path leads to the swamp. It might become too treacherous.”
“We have dealt with the swamp before. What can happen?”
Still unsure, Pearl nonetheless followed her friend. They did not bother to retrieve their clothes or baskets.
Pearl let Topaz walk before her, taking time to watch the gentle play of muscles on her womanly buttocks. She moved her hips in such an enticing way. Unusual sensations had begun to flood her mind, unfamiliar ones which she could not name. In a way they were familiar, but highly displaced.
So distracted was she that she had not stopped to consider how they were now beyond earshot of the village.
The smell of decay and decomposition became stronger, but somehow it was not disgusting. It was the scent of the natural world, that principle which her people lived in and gave thanks to every moment of every life. Topaz stopped to stand on the edge of an overlook. The trail ended there. Below them was the entire valley, magnificent vista that they alone would know about.
“It is so beautiful.” Pearl could only whisper, so awed was she of the beauty of Earth, their Mother.
“I know. We spend our entire lives in Her world, it sometimes becomes difficult to truly appreciate Her beauty.” The two women held hands, simply allowing the spirit of the place to flow through them. So enraptured were they, they had not felt the very foundation beneath their feet giving away.
They had no time to react when the ledge collapsed. Pearl was aware of her friend sliding down the steep, soft soil next to her, struggling to remain upright. They panicked and screamed, but no one would hear them. The ground grew rapidly below them. They were going to hit it. Instinctively, she kicked her legs out in front of her to land upright.
The slope abruptly terminated and they slid off the powdery sediment into space. She braced for a bone jarring impact from feet to scalp.
Instead, her legs vanished into the ground to her knees. She fell forward and sank to her forearms. When her mind finished processing this, she was spread on all fours in a massive clearing of soft mud.
“Are you alright?” Topaz was next to her, and they nearly faced one another on a diagonal. She was in the same predicament. Her muscles tensed with her struggles, but despite her strength and vigorous movements, she remained stuck fast.
“I am alive.” That was the best news Pearl could give. She became aware of a gurgling, sucking noise around her. The surface undulated like water, but it was thick, syrupy, and clinging.
Pearl took stock of their situation. They could not move and inch, they were in a clearing with the nearest shore at least ten strides away, no vines, branches, or logs they could hold onto or climb over. Not that it would matter; their hands and feet were immobile. It was a certainty; they could not possibly escape without help.
“Well, this is interesting, is it not?” Topaz giggled despite herself.
“Indeed.” The two women shared a laugh. How ridiculous they must both look! “How will we escape from here?”
“I truly have no idea.” Distressing, coming from the one who brought them there. “But in the meantime, enjoy it. It is rather warm, is it not. And soft.”
“Yes…so soft.” Pearl had to admit that the mud did feel good. She had heard of men who claimed that a wallow in the mud did more than camouflage and hide scent, but could also refresh the body. It made sense. She decided not to take it too seriously.
“Topaz, I have been thinking about the way the men see me as a huntress. They treat me like a peer, yes, but somehow…it feels as if beneath all that they see me as an intrusion; as anachronism of the Mother.”
“Now do not let them bring your spirit down. The men have always used the hunt as a tool of prestige. Having a huntress disrupts that constant, and so they feel threatened. There is no tabu against women hunters. They can do nothing, so do not let them bother you.”
Pearl considered that. Topaz had always been that sort of friend in whom anything could be confided. Nonjudgmental and compassionate.
“I will not. But what man who feels so would want a huntress to share his hearth?”
Topaz seemed about to reply, but they noticed the gurgling around them growing louder. They could feel it around their trapped limbs. Suddenly, the ground, which had felt like iron around their limbs, softened. They looked into one another in shock as their thighs and arms began to vanish into the sucking mud.
“Sweet Mother,” Topaz breathed. “We are in the sinking mud!”
Pearl went pale. Both of them knew the implications of those words. It was the first rule taught to every child. No one ever dared near the sinking mud. Once you were in it, escape was impossible. She had never seen it before, but heard stories as a girl of men and women vanishing into the ground, left behind by fellow People who knew instantly that they were doomed.
Now here they were, trapped, helpless, far from help, and sinking every so slowly.
“Oh Topaz,” Pearl could only say what she knew was true. “You have been such a wonderful friend to me. I am so sorry to have caused you this.”
“No Pearl. This is my fault alone. I should have never invited you to come with me into the swamps.”
The girls struggled futily for a short time, but they were fooling themselves. It was over.
“At least we will be together. Forever.”
“No, Pearl. Do not think of it like that.” She looked down at her vanishing arms, her elbows engulfed by the lethal mire. “Think of it as the Mother Herself choosing us to return to her womb. Feel how soft and snug it is. It will be over soon. She will guide us and comfort us as we go.”
Pearl looked at her friend with sad eyes. How quickly they had both come to accept their doom. “I am scared.”
“It is alright. I am here. We will go down as friends.”
Surprisingly, the mud was quite soothing. Had it not been that their last moments were approaching, they would have invited their descent. The thought gave Pearl some pause. She looked down at her ample, dangling breasts squeezed between her trapped arms. An inexplicable rush flowed through her mind, and it suddenly seemed very important to her that she not allow the mud to reach her breasts.
She tried to distract herself. The mud was intoxicatingly warm, and her thoughts were wandering from her imminent, bubbling demise. “Do you think they will wonder what has happened to us?”
“Oh yes, but they will know that the Mother will care for us. Why not? She drew us from the Earth and gave us life. Now, we are merely giving back what was always rightfully Hers. Enjoy it.” She wiggled her womanly buttocks playfully, smiling her brilliant smile. Her laughter and happiness was contagious, and Pearl was joining her, making funny faces, joking of all the men whose hopes would be dashed by the vanishing of the tribe’s most eligible maidens.
As they continued to descend, Pearl looked up and saw the gnarly, moss covered branches of the swampland. Butterflies and dragonflies flew around them, their iridescent, allochroous wings playing the sun’s rays in brilliant paintings against the canvas of the wilds. It was as if the Mother was treating them to a special show to comfort them as hey sank into the snug, bubbling, loving blackness.
All of a sudden, a chill ran through Pearl’s body. Then, an impossible warmth, followed by a hot wetness…down there.
“Oh my, oh Great Mother. Topaz, can you feel this?”
“Feel wha- OOOOOOOOOH Sweet Mother’s Teats!!!!!!” She cried. She never was the more tactful one.
“I know!” Pearl looked down to find her breasts beginning to press into the mud. Already her nipples had been claimed, as if suckled by the hungry bog. Her ample bust began to float, slowly but surely pressing into her chest, the two globes rounding as she descended.
The words of her friend came back to her. Perhaps this was how the Mother had chosen to bring them back to her. She was pleasuring them, making their passage enjoyable and enticing them with her secret delights. Pearl was beginning to realize that this experience may not be one to instinctively fight against. It might be one to embrace, or even to hasten.
“Did I not tell you, Pearl? We are becoming one with the Mother. Surely, she is guiding us to Her womb!”
Pearl did not have the words to disagree. The mud climbed her thighs, mixing with the juices dripping profusely from her puffy flower. She was reminded of a kind, loving hug, only feeling it all over her, and engulfing her. It was drawing nearer, nearer…nearer.
Almost.
Her bud was tingling with unbearable anticipation. She moved, trying to feel the earth against her. It was teasing, and she could not resist its promise of a warm, dark wetness below the deadly sinking mud.
Her orgasm was instantaneous as he mud just taped her pubis and gently licked her bud. Her thighs disappeared, as did most of her arms. Her breasts were pushed against her chest. More than pressure, she felt the warm mud around them, between them, filling every crack and crevice as it fought to have all of her.
Her bud was taken, enveloped in a wet eternity. The warmth against her pubis and belly was incredibly soothing, and she almost fell asleep beneath its spell. As if sensing this, another surprise awaited her. The snug slime climbed her legs and began on her buttocks and hips. As it did, it slid up, over her bud, around her lips and, aided by her open legs, squeezed into her lips and pushed.
She was wide awake instantly. This was incredible! Impossible as it was, the sinking mud was making gentle love to them. She saw her friend in the same situation, and all thoughts of escape or rescue left her mind. Should certain salvation face them, she knew with certainty that they would refuse and give themselves willingly to the deadly, bottomless pit.
She wiggled her hips, allowing more mud into her flower. It slid into every corner, filling her completely. Pure warmth flooded her, pulsing with her inner muscles. She needed it to last forever.
But alas, her time was short. Her arms had all but vanished, mud squeezed into her cleavage, and was beginning to crawl over her back.
“Pearl, I cannot hold back any longer. I must have this. Oh, Mother forgive me, but I must. It..it..it is just too much!”
They were both drunk silly with orgasms. Still the mud continued the climb. In short order, Pearl’s flower was taken completely, her shoulders, head, and buttocks the only parts of her resting above the pit. The two of them were just four small islands in an endless sea of gurgling mud. Soon, very soon, they would both be gone.
Topaz, however, could not wait that long. “Oh my, I love you Pearl! I am going to the Mother! Come with me!” She gave her friend a last look with those adorable eyes, took her last breath, and shoved her head into the mud. The bog rippled as she fought its thickness, the slime closing around her large buttocks. Then, with mud creeping between them, they too were gone. The surface undulated violently and thickly until a prolonged burst of bubbles signified that her friend had indeed given herself completely to the lethal bog. It was the most beautiful death she could ever ask for.
Pearl wanted it as much as her friend. But…she wanted the Earth to please her more.
In answer, the mud reached her pucker and flowed in. She shouted and wiggled, wanting to feel more of the mud sodomize her. The pressure grew tighter as she was stuffed full, the mud in her flower playing against the mud in her pucker. Her buttocks were fast vanishing, as were her shoulders. She wanted it in every way imaginable.
Her smooth shoulders were consumed. Mud flowed between her cheeks and took them, continuing to ravish her in the warm mud. She kept her head up, straining against the angle, while the mud climbed her neck to her chin. There was no way to tilt her head back. This was it.
Gently, tenderly, the mud climbed to her lips. Giving into it, she allowed the mud into her mouth, tasting its Earthy blandness. Her nostrils were filled with the rich scent of the Earth’s fluid life. She tried hard to stay above the surface, but she had to give up. Her nostrils filled with mud. No point in delaying it now. She closed her eyes and allowed her eyes and forehead into the mud, her hair fanning out over the bubbling surface.
Mud was all around her and inside of her. It touched her intimately everywhere. The warmth was total; no other sights, scents, sounds, tastes, or feelings. Just a bottomless eternity of snug, wet, ravishing mud…
Her body was hauled out before she could draw the mud into her lungs and end it. She thought the pressure would crush her, torn between the mud and…hands? Human hands, and a strong, bare arm. Instinctively, she grabbed the man, holding for dear life. The bog wanted her, tempted her with its everlasting love. It promised everything if she would just come back and give herself to it. She would, someday. She promised.
Seconds later, she as on some kind of boat. No, a raft. She coughed and spat mud on a wooden deck. As she worked the mud out of her ears, she became aware of a male voice calling out. She opened her eyes and saw him.
He was naked, but covered in mud. He was a very large man too, and muscular. She was clever enough to recognize the exoticism of the man’s face beneath the mud, and his piercing blue eyes.
He was a Settler.
Oddly, panic did not follow this realization. It seemed rather outlandish that he would commit to such a daring rescue merely to cause her harm, as would follow the logic of the stories she had been told of their impulsiveness and pompousness. Even if he had evil intentions, she could simply hop off the raft and be one again with the mud. She would even fight her way down, like Topaz.
Topaz. Her friend was gone, taken by the loving mud. A part of her wanted to cry at the thought of never seeing her friend again, never hear her joyous laugh or share stories of their lovers. Yet for all that her friend was gone, she had been happy. Who was she to deny her last moments in the mud? The Mother had given her everything she had wanted. What was there to mourn?
The man spoke a strange language. She tried to respond, but knew that she could give no more than an impression, and perhaps an inaccurate one at that. The man suddenly stopped, made a strange gesture with his ring finger, shut his eyes as if making some mental effort. When he finished her looked back at her.
“I…sorry…my name Arthur…got you out of quick sand…are you…”
And that was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.
A scout came running into the shelter. “We found tracks! Settlers have been at the grove recently!” The men immediately sprang to action, gathering weapons, gourds, medicine, and body paint. Pearl recognized the situation; much like an alert for a predator or potential hunting trophy, but with human targets in mind. She made no effort to partake in the upcoming fight. If there was to be one; the Settlers may have just been exploring.
Her mother had a worried face. She feared for their safety, knowing the sophisticated, alien weapons possessed by Settlers of every sex and age. They were easy to use and could penetrate textile armor, passing through one body to the next. The People feared both their power and elusive mechanism. Pearl, after meeting Arthur and learning their secrets, wanted to laugh. “For all that power, it takes too long to shoot again. In the time that one clumsy Settler could prepare to shoot again, a man could shoot three arrows or ten sling bullets. The fear, and the loud noise, is its only asset.” Arthur also revealed a less obvious secret; the flying “ball” tended to stray from a perfectly straight path, so she could evade it by moving very quickly out of the way.
The few remaining men stayed out of sight, hoping to catch intruders by surprise. They also had horns that would bring the others back in a heartbeat. Pearl knew to be just as vigilant in the village during such a crisis as out hunting. The women and children were accustomed to the forest and its workings; they would know if something was wrong. She continued her work as usual, tolerating the tension which now hung in the air. It was when she retired to the edge of the village to scout alone that she sensed something amiss.
She placed her hand on her knife, head swiveling to scan the forest under the light of the waning moon. Total darkness was unfamiliar to Settlers; an intruder would orient himself by the torchlight from a few village torches. She placed herself away from one to catch sight of any movement in the flickering firelight. There was none.
No alerts issued. All remained quiet.
Suddenly, a hand on her shoulders and a breath on her ear.
She spun, unsheathing her knife, hooking her foot under a leg, sweeping a massive bulk onto the ground. She let gravity draw her over the mass, landing on top, knife poised at a throat to cut it.
Only then did she realize that she had heard a familiar voice utter her name.
“Arthur?!”
The poor boy had his breath taken out of him. She grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. It was his face. His body…was familiar beneath her.
“What are you doing? I almost killed you!”
The young man composed himself and retained his mild-mannered disposition, which he never seemed to lose. She liked that about him.
“Pearl. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know how to get your attention without your panicking.”
She was calmer now, the earlier rush dissipating. “It is alright. The men were called away to deal with Settlers so-“
“I know about that. I caused it.”
“What?” This she had not expected to hear.
“You taught me more of the forest than I could have taught you about Settlers. I left some debris by the grove where the women forage. You told me that men scout it before nightfall to make sure that Settlers have not intruded. They will find footprints, but decide that it was a lone straggler who was lost. No harm done.”
Pearl looked at him, intrigued. “That was actually very clever. Less power to those of us who credited Settlers with few wits.”
“Well, in all fairness, they are not completely wrong.”
It reminded her that there were sentries hidden in the trees and bushes. She fought hysteria. “Arthur, you must leave now. There are still men here prepared to ambush intruders while the others are gone.”
“You told me that too. Just as you taught me to listen to the voices of the forest wherever She speaks. I took stock of the sentries where they thought themselves invisible. I assure you that no one is nearby.”
She looked around quickly. No signs of surveillance. They would have alerted by now if they saw her addressing a Settler, if the past was any indication.
“Oh Arthur, my love. You have taken an extraordinary risk to come here.”
“I know. But I had to see you again before…”
His tone, try as he might to hide it, gave away his worries. “What is wrong?”
“My uncle has decided that it would be better for me to…stay home for a while to…well, they all want to send me somewhere else where…”
He had no need to finish. She understood plainly. Home was the place from where they left to settle on the island. A place far away over Father Sea, unknown to any People, where she would never venture and never see her love again. “No…no please.”
“I will not go. I am going to stay here with you.”
“You cannot. None of our people will allow it. We will be exiled from every town and village. Some will hunt us down. We can never…ever…be happy together.” Her voice broke and she wept. He held her in his strong arms, scanning for other People. She controlled her self, wiped her eyes so that she could see him.
“I know all of this. But there is one way for us to be together forever. For the Mother herself to give us her blessing.”
“How?” she breathed.
“I will show you. But we must make a plan. I escaped tonight to arrange it with you. A time when we can meet and be together once and for all. A month from now, under the full moon, we will make our escape. They will look for us and follow us, but they will never find us, I promise.”
She had her doubts. Love could make people do stupid things. But he spoke with a confidence that assured and calmed her. She herself understood that should they fail for any reason, their people never would draw them apart again…because she would continue to run and fight until there was nothing left of her.
Realizing this, she relented. “Alright, let us make our plan.”
They did so, careful to be both quick and thorough in the event that the men returned after deciding their lead was a false one. They would not have another opportunity to do this.
“Then it is settled. We will meet that evening, at opportunity.”
“Yes. Once we are far enough, no one will hear us. If they do, it will not matter.”
“How do you mean?”
“You will see. I must return; the guards are due to check on me in a few hours. Peace my love.” He made to depart, but she pulled him back and kissed him furiously. He embraced her, the lovers desperate to feel their skin against one another, their tongues dancing. Their need was urgent, but they dared not risk it.
“Be safe my love. Mother be with you.”
He smiled a sad smile and departed into the night. She heard more than watched him depart. When she retuned, she was careful to maintain her appearance and hide any indication that she had been crying. It appeared that she had been successful.
In bed, her hands wandered to her flower as she smiled fondly of the times she shared with him. She also wondered at his intriguing claim that once they were away it would “not matter” if they did send everyone they could to capture them.
Though, smiling, she had some idea.
End of Part 1.
The cell was darkening when they brought him his dinner. They hadn’t been skimpy on it like they had been with other prisoners in the small village lockup, but he got his fair share of jibes and sneers. This was supposed to make him into a good boy; let him know just how badly he had done wrong by his people and his religion. Well, they could talk all they wanted. The entire time, while repenting and listening to the priest’s worthless drivel and making every promise to his uncle and cousins, he was thinking of nothing …except her.
Arthur had been in his cell for less than a fortnight. In two days, he would be out. But then, how would he find her? The townspeople would parole him for months, eying him, following him, berating him, making every possible excuse to get him in trouble again. The men would be the worst; they always made fun of how he had consorted with a…
He nearly wretched at the thought. The things they had called her. Those awful, awful words. They refused to see her as a human being. She was different, and she did things differently than the Settlers. But that was the way things had been done on the islands for centuries before they settled there in their massive ships, building farms and ranches and orchards where they never had been before. And wanting nothing else but the islands, where the People had been long before. What right had they?
Arthur never disrespected her because she looked different or worshipped the Earth. She was a strong, swift huntress, beautiful in every way. He could still imagine the sparkle in her violet eyes, the smooth, unblemished sheen of her skin, the faint scent of pine on her hair…
He had to return to her. But their worlds would never allow then to be together. They would fight endlessly to make then unhappy, to pull them away from one another.
But they would be together, forever. He would see to that.
The guards were lax, and had developed a noticeable routine in their vigil. He had developed his plan for days, always preparing for the worst. She had taught him techniques for making tools out of whatever was immediately available, and he, always the curious one, knew the inner makings of metal locks intimately. Between the two, fashioning a wire from the bed frame or a chicken bone into a lock pick would be child’s play. As soon as he knew the guard’s hiatus, after making a show of placing themselves in covert positions, Arthur was free.
He had to move quickly. His plan depended on their not noticing his departure and therefore forcing him to runaway, lest he be recaptured and subjected to an ever harsher sentence.
“Come now, Pearl. You are behind on your chores as it is.”
“But Mama, it has been weeks. Why am I still not allowed to hunt?”
“You know perfectly well why.”
“I promise I will not go anywhere near the village. The other hunters will be with me, there will be no worry.”
“It is not a question of that. You will never see than odd-skinned tree-hacker again, that has been established. You must learn, and learn well, that this kind of behavior is unacceptable to the tribe. Its good must come first.”
She wanted to say that their love would never endanger the tribe or the town. But it was no use. No one ever listened. The one friend who may have understood was gone. The sense of loneliness, of the world against her, was overwhelming at times. It made her think back to the circumstances which had cost her her friend.
Pearl had always been a loyal huntress, having proven her skills in a role which had been universally exclusive to men. To their chagrin, she was a better tracker, baiter, and shot than most of them. They could have associated her unusual skill to the People’s witchcraft lore, but she had also proven herself a competent debater and knowledgeable shamaness. Whatever claims they made, she was always ready to counter them. The best strategy on their part was to leave her be.
Her trysts with Arthur, however, streached their tolerance to the limits. It would be a waste to lose her and her generous contributions to the tribe, and what could they do with her? They were not a violent culture, and she was a mere beguiled girl in their eyes (despite her years). It was agreed that her freedom to hunt would be revoked and she would be removed to a village further along the coast. She made no attempts to escape, knowing a hostile wilderness awaited her, but patiently waited until she and her unhappily displaced mother were returned to their home.
They had come back, their chiefs satisfied with a rumor that the young man had been thoroughly incarcerated and would not prove a nuisance. Pearl was devastated.
At night, she would fantasize of Arthur, his sky-colored eyes, golden hair, tall, powerful body, like the Earth itself moving underfoot. She enjoyed the sight of him, his kind face, thick muscles moving under flawlessly bronzed skin. When he was inside of her, she felt like crying out to the sky, so completely did he fill her. She could not, though; any sound could have given them away.
Their time had been wonderful. She would bring freshly gathered fruit, he his people’s tea and grains and they would eat together, make love on the soft grass, swim in the river, even wallow in the mud. Their love was a passionate as it was playful, and they enjoyed laughing in one another’s arms as they writhed in ecstasy.
It was paradise.
Every time, her eyes would wander to that place where she had lost her friend. Somehow, with hostility escalating between the People and the Settlers, that memory had been recurring to her more often.
Topaz had been an extremely beautiful girl. Both had barely blossomed into womanhood, and it was clear that the two of them, however modest, would break many hearts once they had chosen their mates. Pearl had been the more daring, though, fighting for her right to hunt, playing rough games with her male peers, and making her own bow and arrows. Topaz did the more “womanly” chores of planting, gathering, crafting, and home maintenance. Both were quite good at their accepted roles in life. More importantly, both respected one another for those roles.
The two young women were inseparable. For their differences, the two could be found exploring the woods, swimming in the rivers, and having long conversations of their discoveries. For all the casualness the People treated the human body, Pearl could never help but admire Topaz’s form when they removed their buckskin robes to swim. Her bright green eyes seemed to look deep into her spirit, and her body was ample and fit, with the flowing curves indicative of valuable fertility. Topaz would always comment that Pearl’s body was even more so, symmetrical like a flowing stream. She always laughed at that, never acknowledging any special beauty of her own.
The two had been gathering fruits, the tribe’s favorite. For the most part, save for some unfortunate skirmishes resulting in injury to both parties, hostility between the tribe and the Settlers had been minimal. They had still been warned not to stray too far from any encampments, shocked as they were with stories of the ravenous lust of male Settlers. Pearl had her bow, so they felt safe while returning to camp. Topaz had felt warm that day so the two had chosen to stop for a spontaneous swim. Not one to argue such a point, Pearl quickly shucked her clothes and moccasins and dove after her friend.
After a few minutes, Topaz chose to be more spontaneous. “Let us go explore the other side of the river, Pearl. We have not ventured too far into those shadows and it is away from Settler territory.”
Pearl was wary, as befitted her instincts as a tracker. This was not her friend’s usual behavior. “But Topaz, that path leads to the swamp. It might become too treacherous.”
“We have dealt with the swamp before. What can happen?”
Still unsure, Pearl nonetheless followed her friend. They did not bother to retrieve their clothes or baskets.
Pearl let Topaz walk before her, taking time to watch the gentle play of muscles on her womanly buttocks. She moved her hips in such an enticing way. Unusual sensations had begun to flood her mind, unfamiliar ones which she could not name. In a way they were familiar, but highly displaced.
So distracted was she that she had not stopped to consider how they were now beyond earshot of the village.
The smell of decay and decomposition became stronger, but somehow it was not disgusting. It was the scent of the natural world, that principle which her people lived in and gave thanks to every moment of every life. Topaz stopped to stand on the edge of an overlook. The trail ended there. Below them was the entire valley, magnificent vista that they alone would know about.
“It is so beautiful.” Pearl could only whisper, so awed was she of the beauty of Earth, their Mother.
“I know. We spend our entire lives in Her world, it sometimes becomes difficult to truly appreciate Her beauty.” The two women held hands, simply allowing the spirit of the place to flow through them. So enraptured were they, they had not felt the very foundation beneath their feet giving away.
They had no time to react when the ledge collapsed. Pearl was aware of her friend sliding down the steep, soft soil next to her, struggling to remain upright. They panicked and screamed, but no one would hear them. The ground grew rapidly below them. They were going to hit it. Instinctively, she kicked her legs out in front of her to land upright.
The slope abruptly terminated and they slid off the powdery sediment into space. She braced for a bone jarring impact from feet to scalp.
Instead, her legs vanished into the ground to her knees. She fell forward and sank to her forearms. When her mind finished processing this, she was spread on all fours in a massive clearing of soft mud.
“Are you alright?” Topaz was next to her, and they nearly faced one another on a diagonal. She was in the same predicament. Her muscles tensed with her struggles, but despite her strength and vigorous movements, she remained stuck fast.
“I am alive.” That was the best news Pearl could give. She became aware of a gurgling, sucking noise around her. The surface undulated like water, but it was thick, syrupy, and clinging.
Pearl took stock of their situation. They could not move and inch, they were in a clearing with the nearest shore at least ten strides away, no vines, branches, or logs they could hold onto or climb over. Not that it would matter; their hands and feet were immobile. It was a certainty; they could not possibly escape without help.
“Well, this is interesting, is it not?” Topaz giggled despite herself.
“Indeed.” The two women shared a laugh. How ridiculous they must both look! “How will we escape from here?”
“I truly have no idea.” Distressing, coming from the one who brought them there. “But in the meantime, enjoy it. It is rather warm, is it not. And soft.”
“Yes…so soft.” Pearl had to admit that the mud did feel good. She had heard of men who claimed that a wallow in the mud did more than camouflage and hide scent, but could also refresh the body. It made sense. She decided not to take it too seriously.
“Topaz, I have been thinking about the way the men see me as a huntress. They treat me like a peer, yes, but somehow…it feels as if beneath all that they see me as an intrusion; as anachronism of the Mother.”
“Now do not let them bring your spirit down. The men have always used the hunt as a tool of prestige. Having a huntress disrupts that constant, and so they feel threatened. There is no tabu against women hunters. They can do nothing, so do not let them bother you.”
Pearl considered that. Topaz had always been that sort of friend in whom anything could be confided. Nonjudgmental and compassionate.
“I will not. But what man who feels so would want a huntress to share his hearth?”
Topaz seemed about to reply, but they noticed the gurgling around them growing louder. They could feel it around their trapped limbs. Suddenly, the ground, which had felt like iron around their limbs, softened. They looked into one another in shock as their thighs and arms began to vanish into the sucking mud.
“Sweet Mother,” Topaz breathed. “We are in the sinking mud!”
Pearl went pale. Both of them knew the implications of those words. It was the first rule taught to every child. No one ever dared near the sinking mud. Once you were in it, escape was impossible. She had never seen it before, but heard stories as a girl of men and women vanishing into the ground, left behind by fellow People who knew instantly that they were doomed.
Now here they were, trapped, helpless, far from help, and sinking every so slowly.
“Oh Topaz,” Pearl could only say what she knew was true. “You have been such a wonderful friend to me. I am so sorry to have caused you this.”
“No Pearl. This is my fault alone. I should have never invited you to come with me into the swamps.”
The girls struggled futily for a short time, but they were fooling themselves. It was over.
“At least we will be together. Forever.”
“No, Pearl. Do not think of it like that.” She looked down at her vanishing arms, her elbows engulfed by the lethal mire. “Think of it as the Mother Herself choosing us to return to her womb. Feel how soft and snug it is. It will be over soon. She will guide us and comfort us as we go.”
Pearl looked at her friend with sad eyes. How quickly they had both come to accept their doom. “I am scared.”
“It is alright. I am here. We will go down as friends.”
Surprisingly, the mud was quite soothing. Had it not been that their last moments were approaching, they would have invited their descent. The thought gave Pearl some pause. She looked down at her ample, dangling breasts squeezed between her trapped arms. An inexplicable rush flowed through her mind, and it suddenly seemed very important to her that she not allow the mud to reach her breasts.
She tried to distract herself. The mud was intoxicatingly warm, and her thoughts were wandering from her imminent, bubbling demise. “Do you think they will wonder what has happened to us?”
“Oh yes, but they will know that the Mother will care for us. Why not? She drew us from the Earth and gave us life. Now, we are merely giving back what was always rightfully Hers. Enjoy it.” She wiggled her womanly buttocks playfully, smiling her brilliant smile. Her laughter and happiness was contagious, and Pearl was joining her, making funny faces, joking of all the men whose hopes would be dashed by the vanishing of the tribe’s most eligible maidens.
As they continued to descend, Pearl looked up and saw the gnarly, moss covered branches of the swampland. Butterflies and dragonflies flew around them, their iridescent, allochroous wings playing the sun’s rays in brilliant paintings against the canvas of the wilds. It was as if the Mother was treating them to a special show to comfort them as hey sank into the snug, bubbling, loving blackness.
All of a sudden, a chill ran through Pearl’s body. Then, an impossible warmth, followed by a hot wetness…down there.
“Oh my, oh Great Mother. Topaz, can you feel this?”
“Feel wha- OOOOOOOOOH Sweet Mother’s Teats!!!!!!” She cried. She never was the more tactful one.
“I know!” Pearl looked down to find her breasts beginning to press into the mud. Already her nipples had been claimed, as if suckled by the hungry bog. Her ample bust began to float, slowly but surely pressing into her chest, the two globes rounding as she descended.
The words of her friend came back to her. Perhaps this was how the Mother had chosen to bring them back to her. She was pleasuring them, making their passage enjoyable and enticing them with her secret delights. Pearl was beginning to realize that this experience may not be one to instinctively fight against. It might be one to embrace, or even to hasten.
“Did I not tell you, Pearl? We are becoming one with the Mother. Surely, she is guiding us to Her womb!”
Pearl did not have the words to disagree. The mud climbed her thighs, mixing with the juices dripping profusely from her puffy flower. She was reminded of a kind, loving hug, only feeling it all over her, and engulfing her. It was drawing nearer, nearer…nearer.
Almost.
Her bud was tingling with unbearable anticipation. She moved, trying to feel the earth against her. It was teasing, and she could not resist its promise of a warm, dark wetness below the deadly sinking mud.
Her orgasm was instantaneous as he mud just taped her pubis and gently licked her bud. Her thighs disappeared, as did most of her arms. Her breasts were pushed against her chest. More than pressure, she felt the warm mud around them, between them, filling every crack and crevice as it fought to have all of her.
Her bud was taken, enveloped in a wet eternity. The warmth against her pubis and belly was incredibly soothing, and she almost fell asleep beneath its spell. As if sensing this, another surprise awaited her. The snug slime climbed her legs and began on her buttocks and hips. As it did, it slid up, over her bud, around her lips and, aided by her open legs, squeezed into her lips and pushed.
She was wide awake instantly. This was incredible! Impossible as it was, the sinking mud was making gentle love to them. She saw her friend in the same situation, and all thoughts of escape or rescue left her mind. Should certain salvation face them, she knew with certainty that they would refuse and give themselves willingly to the deadly, bottomless pit.
She wiggled her hips, allowing more mud into her flower. It slid into every corner, filling her completely. Pure warmth flooded her, pulsing with her inner muscles. She needed it to last forever.
But alas, her time was short. Her arms had all but vanished, mud squeezed into her cleavage, and was beginning to crawl over her back.
“Pearl, I cannot hold back any longer. I must have this. Oh, Mother forgive me, but I must. It..it..it is just too much!”
They were both drunk silly with orgasms. Still the mud continued the climb. In short order, Pearl’s flower was taken completely, her shoulders, head, and buttocks the only parts of her resting above the pit. The two of them were just four small islands in an endless sea of gurgling mud. Soon, very soon, they would both be gone.
Topaz, however, could not wait that long. “Oh my, I love you Pearl! I am going to the Mother! Come with me!” She gave her friend a last look with those adorable eyes, took her last breath, and shoved her head into the mud. The bog rippled as she fought its thickness, the slime closing around her large buttocks. Then, with mud creeping between them, they too were gone. The surface undulated violently and thickly until a prolonged burst of bubbles signified that her friend had indeed given herself completely to the lethal bog. It was the most beautiful death she could ever ask for.
Pearl wanted it as much as her friend. But…she wanted the Earth to please her more.
In answer, the mud reached her pucker and flowed in. She shouted and wiggled, wanting to feel more of the mud sodomize her. The pressure grew tighter as she was stuffed full, the mud in her flower playing against the mud in her pucker. Her buttocks were fast vanishing, as were her shoulders. She wanted it in every way imaginable.
Her smooth shoulders were consumed. Mud flowed between her cheeks and took them, continuing to ravish her in the warm mud. She kept her head up, straining against the angle, while the mud climbed her neck to her chin. There was no way to tilt her head back. This was it.
Gently, tenderly, the mud climbed to her lips. Giving into it, she allowed the mud into her mouth, tasting its Earthy blandness. Her nostrils were filled with the rich scent of the Earth’s fluid life. She tried hard to stay above the surface, but she had to give up. Her nostrils filled with mud. No point in delaying it now. She closed her eyes and allowed her eyes and forehead into the mud, her hair fanning out over the bubbling surface.
Mud was all around her and inside of her. It touched her intimately everywhere. The warmth was total; no other sights, scents, sounds, tastes, or feelings. Just a bottomless eternity of snug, wet, ravishing mud…
Her body was hauled out before she could draw the mud into her lungs and end it. She thought the pressure would crush her, torn between the mud and…hands? Human hands, and a strong, bare arm. Instinctively, she grabbed the man, holding for dear life. The bog wanted her, tempted her with its everlasting love. It promised everything if she would just come back and give herself to it. She would, someday. She promised.
Seconds later, she as on some kind of boat. No, a raft. She coughed and spat mud on a wooden deck. As she worked the mud out of her ears, she became aware of a male voice calling out. She opened her eyes and saw him.
He was naked, but covered in mud. He was a very large man too, and muscular. She was clever enough to recognize the exoticism of the man’s face beneath the mud, and his piercing blue eyes.
He was a Settler.
Oddly, panic did not follow this realization. It seemed rather outlandish that he would commit to such a daring rescue merely to cause her harm, as would follow the logic of the stories she had been told of their impulsiveness and pompousness. Even if he had evil intentions, she could simply hop off the raft and be one again with the mud. She would even fight her way down, like Topaz.
Topaz. Her friend was gone, taken by the loving mud. A part of her wanted to cry at the thought of never seeing her friend again, never hear her joyous laugh or share stories of their lovers. Yet for all that her friend was gone, she had been happy. Who was she to deny her last moments in the mud? The Mother had given her everything she had wanted. What was there to mourn?
The man spoke a strange language. She tried to respond, but knew that she could give no more than an impression, and perhaps an inaccurate one at that. The man suddenly stopped, made a strange gesture with his ring finger, shut his eyes as if making some mental effort. When he finished her looked back at her.
“I…sorry…my name Arthur…got you out of quick sand…are you…”
And that was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.
A scout came running into the shelter. “We found tracks! Settlers have been at the grove recently!” The men immediately sprang to action, gathering weapons, gourds, medicine, and body paint. Pearl recognized the situation; much like an alert for a predator or potential hunting trophy, but with human targets in mind. She made no effort to partake in the upcoming fight. If there was to be one; the Settlers may have just been exploring.
Her mother had a worried face. She feared for their safety, knowing the sophisticated, alien weapons possessed by Settlers of every sex and age. They were easy to use and could penetrate textile armor, passing through one body to the next. The People feared both their power and elusive mechanism. Pearl, after meeting Arthur and learning their secrets, wanted to laugh. “For all that power, it takes too long to shoot again. In the time that one clumsy Settler could prepare to shoot again, a man could shoot three arrows or ten sling bullets. The fear, and the loud noise, is its only asset.” Arthur also revealed a less obvious secret; the flying “ball” tended to stray from a perfectly straight path, so she could evade it by moving very quickly out of the way.
The few remaining men stayed out of sight, hoping to catch intruders by surprise. They also had horns that would bring the others back in a heartbeat. Pearl knew to be just as vigilant in the village during such a crisis as out hunting. The women and children were accustomed to the forest and its workings; they would know if something was wrong. She continued her work as usual, tolerating the tension which now hung in the air. It was when she retired to the edge of the village to scout alone that she sensed something amiss.
She placed her hand on her knife, head swiveling to scan the forest under the light of the waning moon. Total darkness was unfamiliar to Settlers; an intruder would orient himself by the torchlight from a few village torches. She placed herself away from one to catch sight of any movement in the flickering firelight. There was none.
No alerts issued. All remained quiet.
Suddenly, a hand on her shoulders and a breath on her ear.
She spun, unsheathing her knife, hooking her foot under a leg, sweeping a massive bulk onto the ground. She let gravity draw her over the mass, landing on top, knife poised at a throat to cut it.
Only then did she realize that she had heard a familiar voice utter her name.
“Arthur?!”
The poor boy had his breath taken out of him. She grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. It was his face. His body…was familiar beneath her.
“What are you doing? I almost killed you!”
The young man composed himself and retained his mild-mannered disposition, which he never seemed to lose. She liked that about him.
“Pearl. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know how to get your attention without your panicking.”
She was calmer now, the earlier rush dissipating. “It is alright. The men were called away to deal with Settlers so-“
“I know about that. I caused it.”
“What?” This she had not expected to hear.
“You taught me more of the forest than I could have taught you about Settlers. I left some debris by the grove where the women forage. You told me that men scout it before nightfall to make sure that Settlers have not intruded. They will find footprints, but decide that it was a lone straggler who was lost. No harm done.”
Pearl looked at him, intrigued. “That was actually very clever. Less power to those of us who credited Settlers with few wits.”
“Well, in all fairness, they are not completely wrong.”
It reminded her that there were sentries hidden in the trees and bushes. She fought hysteria. “Arthur, you must leave now. There are still men here prepared to ambush intruders while the others are gone.”
“You told me that too. Just as you taught me to listen to the voices of the forest wherever She speaks. I took stock of the sentries where they thought themselves invisible. I assure you that no one is nearby.”
She looked around quickly. No signs of surveillance. They would have alerted by now if they saw her addressing a Settler, if the past was any indication.
“Oh Arthur, my love. You have taken an extraordinary risk to come here.”
“I know. But I had to see you again before…”
His tone, try as he might to hide it, gave away his worries. “What is wrong?”
“My uncle has decided that it would be better for me to…stay home for a while to…well, they all want to send me somewhere else where…”
He had no need to finish. She understood plainly. Home was the place from where they left to settle on the island. A place far away over Father Sea, unknown to any People, where she would never venture and never see her love again. “No…no please.”
“I will not go. I am going to stay here with you.”
“You cannot. None of our people will allow it. We will be exiled from every town and village. Some will hunt us down. We can never…ever…be happy together.” Her voice broke and she wept. He held her in his strong arms, scanning for other People. She controlled her self, wiped her eyes so that she could see him.
“I know all of this. But there is one way for us to be together forever. For the Mother herself to give us her blessing.”
“How?” she breathed.
“I will show you. But we must make a plan. I escaped tonight to arrange it with you. A time when we can meet and be together once and for all. A month from now, under the full moon, we will make our escape. They will look for us and follow us, but they will never find us, I promise.”
She had her doubts. Love could make people do stupid things. But he spoke with a confidence that assured and calmed her. She herself understood that should they fail for any reason, their people never would draw them apart again…because she would continue to run and fight until there was nothing left of her.
Realizing this, she relented. “Alright, let us make our plan.”
They did so, careful to be both quick and thorough in the event that the men returned after deciding their lead was a false one. They would not have another opportunity to do this.
“Then it is settled. We will meet that evening, at opportunity.”
“Yes. Once we are far enough, no one will hear us. If they do, it will not matter.”
“How do you mean?”
“You will see. I must return; the guards are due to check on me in a few hours. Peace my love.” He made to depart, but she pulled him back and kissed him furiously. He embraced her, the lovers desperate to feel their skin against one another, their tongues dancing. Their need was urgent, but they dared not risk it.
“Be safe my love. Mother be with you.”
He smiled a sad smile and departed into the night. She heard more than watched him depart. When she retuned, she was careful to maintain her appearance and hide any indication that she had been crying. It appeared that she had been successful.
In bed, her hands wandered to her flower as she smiled fondly of the times she shared with him. She also wondered at his intriguing claim that once they were away it would “not matter” if they did send everyone they could to capture them.
Though, smiling, she had some idea.
End of Part 1.