Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, MaleDom, Rough, Light Bond, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Fisting, Cream Pie, Size, Violent, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Huntress, Nadia, finds a knight in the woods, injured and without a single memory of his past.

Nadia was the first in the Duchy of Morrovale. No other woman was issued a permit for hunting in the duchy. She had worked most of her life for this right and honor. As the sheriff presented her with her badge of station, she grinned like a fool, as did her only relative, her little brother, Rechan. She was now only twenty three and had carved her place among the huntsmen of the village, earning their grudging respect and friendship.

The path to her current position had not been an easy one, it had taken her months to find a mentor. Her first was Ervan. Her face soured as she remembered what her first mentor had forced her to do to remain in his service, and the memory brought back old feelings of resentment and betrayal. She had been too young for that man's depraved wishes, and had balked one time too many and he had sent her from his camp. Deep in the woods, she had been forced to find her way back to Morrovale alone, sore from the acts she had allowed him to commit and crying for fear of having disappointed her parents' spirits.

Then she had found Relkan. Rather, Tammer had found Relkan. She managed to make it back and as she sat in Tammer's tavern, the Pierced Boar, she had poured out her whole sad tale, figuring she would be drummed out of the hunter's clique anyway, so she let Ervan have it with her whole quiver. She found out weeks later that when he had returned to Morrovale, he had been set upon by a half-dozen huntsmen and beaten almost to death and forced to leave the duchy.

As Relkan introduced himself he had told her that she would be totally safe with him.

"Why will I be safer with you than Ervan?" she had asked.

He leaned toward her slyly and whispered, "Just you and I know this, else I will have to leave the duchy as well, but I like other men as bedmates." The look of shock upon her young face had made him laugh uproarously.

"I've never thought any huntsman could be that way," she said.

He laughed as they walked out of town. "Why not?" he asked. "You did know that some men did so, right?"

She nodded slowly. As a general concept, she knew of homosexual men, but as a practical application, she had never met one, at least, until now.

True to his word, Relkan never touched her inappropriately, even to the point of them bathing together in the pool on his allotted lands. As she grew older, she actually started to resent his lack of interest as her own in men increased. He was a handsome man, and well-built, and well-equipped, she found out after she started dallying with village boys when they were in town. Only a few of the bravest boys would dare approach her, though, for her manner of dress was not very lady-like and her demeanor was even less so. She wore arms most times, unless in church, and she kept her hair cropped sensibly short.

Rumors among the youths of Morrovale were that she preferred girls to boys and that she took the role of a boy when she took a girl as a lover. These persisted even when there could not be found among the village's girls anyone who was her lover. They diminished, finally, when she allowed one rather bold and loudmouthed lad to bed her, and he acted as her own personal emissary to carry forth the word of her preference for males. After a weekend in his company, she wondered herself if she would not prefer a girl as a lover.

Relkan laughed at that idea. "Nadia, you look at my prick too much to be a woman-lover," he said. "Were I desirous of girls I would have allowed you to do what I know you think about when you look at it."

She nodded sadly. "Indeed, Relkan, I find boys to my liking, but I don't like any of the boys I know." She shrugged. "Perhaps I should move when I become a journeyman."

He shrugged. "That may well be your fate," he said, grinning. "You are nearly there, you know, young woman."

He smiled as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. "And I do wish you were attracted to women now, Relkan," she said as she stood up. "I'd bed you yesterday."

He chuckled again and tossed her a slab of meat from their kill that day. "Eat, shut up, and go to bed and dream of boys you can have," he said.

She grinned and chewed on the chunk of cooked deer.

Now she had her own allotment and she was doing well as a hunter, enough so that she managed to get enough money to send her brother to faraway Ghant to university, to learn a skill of the educated men. He was a frail creature, and performed the labors of farming and hunting poorly. She hoped he would find cerebral pursuits more to his suiting.

However, as much as she liked, the village of Morrovale had yet to yield up a lover. She had slept with several youths from there, and even a few more from surrounding villages, but none had that something she sought. Most were too possessive, and let it be know early that her profession would have to be sidelined if they were to wed. This disqualified those close-minded youths right off.

A couple of the others were all for her having her occupation. They wanted to laze about and let her do the work. She discovered their love-making was likewise lazy and quickly discarded them.

So, she was doomed to a life of solitude, except the occasional flings with younger huntsmen who still had the male superiority attitude, but at least tempered it by keeping their mouths shut long enough for her to enjoy a night or two with them.

She was patrolling her territory and had nearly completed her trek outward, and was already anticipating the comforts of home when she returned, having already netted more than her required number of deer and elk to meet her self-imposed quota. The weather had been very cooperative this trip out, raining only at night, and in moderation. However, today looked like it could be a change to that kind pattern. The clouds glowered over her head and seemed pregnant with rain. Even flashes of lightning could be seen among them, lighting the dark clouds from within.

It did not surprise the young woman when they opened up and let the sky fall. The rain was merciless, soaking through her clothes in seconds, then drenching her completely within a minute. She tossed her oilskin cloak overall, but it would only protect so much with the winds that kicked up at the same time, sending the rain in sheets that were almost horizontal at times. Her sandy blonde hair plastered itself to her head and soon began to drip down her skull into her eyes and down the back of her neck.

By noon, the ground had absorbed its fill of the rain and was becoming muddy and hard to walk over. She sought shelter for the night. Finally, she found a small copse of dense young trees with broad, fuzzy leaves, she was not sure of the name for them, but they provided decent shelter from the rain, their leaves shedding it in a circle around them almost like a roof. Only the most determined droplets managed to find their way through the boughs of these young trees.

She grew concerned when lightning began to arc from the low clouds into the forest, worrying about fires, but what could she do about it if one started? Other than, perhaps stay the hell out of its way. A particularly bright and lingering bolt struck nearby, just east of her shelter. She braced herself for the thunder that followed. It rolled over her like a wave of something solid, so powerful was the thunderclap. She grinned at it, the thunder had always impressed her with its fury and power. The lightning that caused the thunder roll was always of secondary import to her, it was the booming and cracking noises of supernatural intensity that drew her attention.

Her bower shook with the intensity of the crackle of energy and her hair stood on end. "That was a good one," she murmured appreciatively, and unslung her pack to begin preparing for the night.

Suddenly, she heard a sound behind her, from the east. Looking that direction, she saw a horse plodding through the mud, it was stumbling, seemingly injured. As she watched the poor beast trying to move through mud almost to its knees, she noted that something was dragging behind it. It was no wild horse, but a mount, and there was a saddle. Hanging from that saddle's right stirrup was a person, or what she thought was a person. The caked on mud and chunks of vegitation stuck to the lump made it rather an unsure judgement.

As it drew nearer her, the horse stumbled again, and collapsed into the mud. It fell away from the lump it was pulling on its stirrup and she heard the distinctive sound of clanking metal as the lump was pulled over and halfway atop the falling horse.

Breaking into a run, she approached the fallen steed. Run is probably too generous a word, but she moved with all possible haste, anyway. She got to the horse, and saw immediately, now that she was closer, that it was dead. The smell of cooked meat emanated from it. She felt bad for the poor beast, but her attention then focused upon the humanoid lump of mud, leaves, and twigs that laid partially atop the animal. She grabbed a double-handful of mud from where she thought the face should be, it was caked on the face completely. As her hands met something solid she pulled them away and threw the mud to her sides.

The shock of the sight of a skull almost caused her to fall into the mud as she tried to backtrack, but then the seam of rivets became more visible as rain knocked more of the mud from the leering countenance of death. It was a helmet's visor, shaped to resemble a skull. She tried to pry it open, and it seemed locked down. It moved a fraction of an inch, lifting away and up from the face, but then it stopped and would not budge. She jammed her fingers under it and yanked with all her might. There was a loud pop and the visor came off in her hand. She looked down into the helmet below her.

It was a young man, possibly in his twentys, she thought as she looked at his beautiful face. She could think of no other way to describe him. He had generous, full lips, that turned slightly up, in the suggestion of a smile, and high cheekbones, that gave him a look almost elven. Had he been a woman, he would have been quite lovely, as a man, he was handsome in a very peculiar way to her. He wore a carefully trimmed goatee on his upper lip and chin. His dark brown hair set off his light-colored skin in quite attractive contrast.

She pressed her fingers to his neck and felt a thready, but present pulse. She decided he had been horse-dragged for a ways and a little farther of her dragging him by his armpits would not likely do more harm. Grabbing him under his armor-plated arms, she dragged him across the intervening space to the small knot of trees and their relative shelter. She then took a good look at the situation. He was bleeding from somewhere on his head, so she tried to get the helmet off. She was not familiar with heavy armor helmets like this one and soon found out it would not come off easily even if she were. The armor was welded to itself.

"One hell of a powerful bolt of lightning," she murmured as she rummaged in her small pack and came out with a small, thick-bladed knife. After about five minutes of prying and grunting, the helmet popped loose, taking part of the ring it locked into with it. She carefully removed it and cradled the man's head as she laid him down gently to the ground. He was a handsome devil, she thought. He had a thick head of dark brown hair, flowing almost to his shoulders as the helmet came loose. Blood ran from one ear. She figured that he had fallen off the horse when the lightning struck and hit his head. She examined the bleeding orifice and realized his ear had a slight, but very obvious point. The lad was a half-elven youth, she realized as she looked at his other ear and then examined the face with a forwarned eye.

The rest of his armor bore similar welded joints and sections. She worked for the better part of two hours to free him of the constricting, damaged metal plates. When she was done, she laid a blanket over him and let him warm in the relative shelter of the copse of trees while she went back to the horse to collect his belongings from the dead steed.

Oddly, all he seemed to have was a long, rather vicious-looking sword and a small leather pouch full of documents. She looked at one of them, and saw that it was written in a tongue she did not recognize. Given his goatee and dark hair, she thought he might be Rojando.

The armor itself was unusable, though perhaps the smith in Morrovale, Gradel, could repair it. She buried it in a shallow pit under the copse so she could come back for it if and when she were able. As she put the pieces into the little grave, she noted that skulls and bones formed the main motif of this armor's decoration. It was all rather sinister, she had to admit.

The storm lightened at nightfall and ended sometime in the night, not that she was awake for that occurrence. She tended to him as best she could, mainly keeping him warm by leaving her blanket over his chilled body.

As the sun poured over the wood by morning, a spike of golden rays struck her face and caused her to awaken. She looked around, eyes bleary and confused for a moment, then she remembered her place and situation. She walked over to the sleeping man, he had kicked off the blanket overnight at some point, and she regarded the heavy felt undergarment he wore. It was scorched in a couple of places, but he appeared to have not been burnt by the lightning that had struck his horse and him.

Kneeling beside him, she placed a palm to his smooth brow, checking for feverishness. He had none, but as she withdrew her long, slim hand, his eyes snapped open and he inhaled deeply. He stuttered something she could not understand, and looked very confused.

The man's eyes focused on her own, his were bright blue, almost white. He said something in what sounded like another language to her, and observed her a moment. Then he said something in still another language. Nadia shook her head and smiled. Finally he said, "Where am I?" In Westron. His accent was a little difficult to place, but was definitely not Ghantian or Windy Islander, both of which she was familiar with.

"You are in the Duchy of Morrovale," she said quietly, sitting back on the ground as she spoke.

He paused a moment. "Morrovale," he pondered. "What happened to me?"

She pointed to the scorch mark on his shoulder. "You were struck by lightning," she said, "and then you apparently fell from your horse and struck your head."

The man grimaced. "That would explain the throbbing head and ringing ears," he murmured, touching his finger and thumb to his temples. He then graced her with a feeble smile. "Thank you for helping me."

"It was the right thing to do," she said. "I am Nadia of Morrovale." She introduced herself.

"Pleased to meet you, Nadia." He then opened his mouth to speak, and his face took on an almost comical expression of confusion. Sealing his lips he focused his mind a moment, then spoke: "I am afraid I cannot tell you my name."

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "It's a secret?" she asked.

A deep chuckle emerged from his chest. "I wish that were the reason," he said, his eyes still showing consternation. "But, truth be told, I don't know."

She smiled at that. "You know not your name?" she asked, following that with a nervous giggle.

"The One as my Witness, I do not," he said, looking at her with intense eyes. "I really do not."

Nadia's face grew very concerned. "Poor dear," she said, leaning forward. "I've heard head injuries can do such things," she mused. "Perhaps it will come back to you with a little time. Meanwhile, perhaps these papers will tell you who you are?" She held out the pouch holding the large stack of parchment.

With a grunt, and obvious discomfort, the man sat up and took the pack. Peering at the documents, he looked blankly at them. "I cannot read these," he said, blinking oddly. "I thought I could read there for a moment, but I suppose I cannot."

His fingers flipped through the documents and he regarded each as the text revealed itself. "No, I cannot read these." With a sharp shake of his head that caused him to wince, he handed the pack back to her. "Did I have anything else upon me?" he asked

She picked up the sword. "You had this," she said, holding it out to him, and understandably moving a bit back after he gripped its hilt. He made no move to draw it from its scabbard, however.

He shook his head again. "No," he whispered, "I do not even recognize this."

"Miss Nadia, if you could point me to the nearest settlement, I will remove myself from worrying you any longer," he said, rising to his feet. "You have done more than enough in helping me at all."

"No, you're not fit to travel far yet," she said. "Morrovale is still four hours from here by foot." She thought a moment. "I have a small cabin about half an hour from here, though. We can go there and let you mend a bit before going to the village."

"A good idea, and I thank you again for offering me the hospitality of your cabin," he said, a stunning smile crossed his face, and she felt her heart leap at the sight of it. Down girl, she thought to herself, he's just being polite.

As they walked the half-hour to the cabin, he belted the sword to his hip and offered to carry the little pack of documents if she wearied of it. She shooed him off of that idea, saying she routinely carried animal carcasses miles, and that this was a paltry burden.

"You are a huntress, then?" he asked, his eyes showing a measurable amount of awe.

"Yes." Her skin blushed slightly at his attention. "I hunt for a living, anyway." She remembered that the ancient Syrisian gods had a figure called the Huntress, a woman who was the master of archery and the bane of anyone who defiled her wood.

The man stood about her own height, which was slightly shorter than most of the youths she had spent time with. She smiled as she regarded him, though, he was slim and well-knit of frame. A errant thought crossed her mind, wondering what he looked like under the felt padding.

He turned his pale blue eyes upon her rich brown ones. "The Huntress has ever been my favored spirit," he said. "She not only inspires me to courage, but I find her incredibly arousing, if I may be so bold. All that subdued power and lethal skill simply causes my mind to grow hazy. To know you are a woman in her image causes me to grow a bit thoughtful of those matters."

Nadia blushed pink at that thought, but her lips curled up in a smile. If she aroused him, she was definitely glad to know it. "Perhaps your mind did take quite a blow, good sir," she giggled. "For few find me arousing in any way."

"Then they are blinded by their stupidity," he said. His voice had an edge of hostility to it that made Nadia a touch nervous. The tone moderated, however, and he said, "You radiate competence. An aphrodisiac without compare."

Their eyes met for a brief moment. "You are a most complimentary traveling companion," she said. "One might think you had a ulterior motive."

Something had changed in the man's demeanor, perhaps his own confidence was returning. His eyes moved down her body, over her fitted shirt and buckskin leggings worn under a short skirt. It all rather hugged her form tightly, as loose clothes tended to get caught on branches when one ran. "Perhaps I do, actually, though I did not realize until you mentioned it." he replied. "If you find my attentions unwelcome, please say so."

"I will," said Nadia as she turned and started walking again.

The man grinned behind her, realizing she did not say to stop. As he followed behind her, he noticed her gait had changed slightly, and that she walked with a bit more, well, wiggle, than before.

True to her word, there was a tiny cabin nestled among a few old oaks. It looked as if it were used only intermittently, which was just the case. She went within and chased out a small flock of finches. "Squatters!" she yelled in mock anger.

Chuckling the man walked into the cabin as well. It was simply a large room, three paces by five. The furniture in here had been made by hand, but seemed serviceable. It consisted of a bed, a table with chair, and a small rack for hanging things upon. "All the comforts of home," he said, cheerily.

She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Of course, milord," she curtsied. "Quarters fit for a king." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke and he smiled at her again.

As her heart lub-dubbed and turned over in her chest, she decided that she needed to distract herself before she made a fool of herself with this lovely man. As she tried to squeeze by him in the doorway, he put out an arm. Despite the slimness of his limb, it felt as solid as a steel bar when she pushed against it. She thought a moment that he held the door jamb, but no. When she looked, his arm hung in the air. She blinked at how strong he must be to stop her dead with just his arm and a negligent motion.

He grinned. "Thank you, Nadia," he said. "I am fortunate, indeed to not only be found by a huntsman, but additionally for being found by the most beautiful of the Huntresses." His voice was low and somehow more intense now.

"You are welcome," she murmured nervously. "And I still think you're a bit addled to think me anything but plain." Her face blushed deeply at his compliments, and her eyes turned to him. "But I don't mind you speaking such sweet words to me, for they do feel good, I hear them so seldom."

He touched her face with his cool, slim hand. "You will hear a lot of them so long as I am about," he stated, his eyes level and locking her gaze to them. "And I probably will not be going until you make me."

Now, she was nervous. This was a little too much, too fast, even for her admittedly unregimented pattern of courtship. "Sir," she said. "You are a handsome man, and can have your way, likely, with most women." Her eyes finally broke contact with his. "And even me, if you sought it. But, I beg you not to abuse that One-given ability. Don't play games with my heart."

His eyes softened at her almost plaintiff appeal. "I do not intend to," he said, and his fingers touched her cheek again. Her head came up to gaze directly at him again. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, his lips were soft and very warm, and just a touch moist.

She at first thought that the lightning had charged him with energy, for she felt a jolt of it pass through her entire body, causing her muscles to twitch and then lock into place. He did not part his lips, or move his hand from her cheek, he simply gave her that small, lingering kiss, then pulled away. "I will not take advantage of you," he said. "And though I know not who I am, I do know I am not a man who would toy with your emotions."

As his fingers slipped off her smooth cheek she felt her muscles finally unlock and she leaned back against the frame of the door. With an effort, she kept her breathing from becoming ragged and short. She, however, could do little to control the moist feeling that ran down the inside of one thigh. With a great swallow, she turned back toward the small clearing the hut sat facing.

She looked behind the hut and found her cache of firewood and brought in an armload. The man was sitting at the little table and pouring over the papers. "I still do not know what these say," he murmured. "Are you certain they were mine?"

She nodded. "Well, they were on a horse you were riding," she confirmed.

He grinned. "Let us hope it was my horse," he chuckled. "Somehow, I do not think I was a horse thief."

Her expression became mixed. "Unless you go about stealing horses in full knight's armor, then no."

He looked at her. "I wore the armor of a knight?" he asked. "Where is it now?"

"It was badly damaged by the lightning, and further by my removing it from you so that you could sleep properly, its joints had been welded by the heat," she answered.

He nodded. "I am amazed I survived this incident," he said. "I had wondered why I was wearing a felt suit of padding."

"There are some other clothes under those floorboards, some may fit." She pointed to a spot near the bed. "My old mentor gave them to me so that I could modify them for my own use, but I never got around to it."

He stuffed the parchment back into the pack and knelt next to the loose floorboards, pulling them aside he took out the bundled clothes. The bundle he sat upon the table and opened it, looking through the clothes within, they were clean and well-made, if not finery.

Reaching for the cords holding his padding on him, he slipped the knots and his legging fell to the floor. She gasped at the sight of his bare bottom and he half turned to see what was the matter. Her second gasp was louder, and he finally figured out his error. Covering his manhood with one hand. "By the One, I am sorry, miss," he said, then reached for his legging with one hand. His legs were muscular and powerful, amazingly so, thick cords of sinew ran around and over his thighs and calves, and even though she had tried not to look, even his round little rump was muscular and powerful-looking.

She giggled and backed out the door, pulling it shut. "No, go ahead and change, sir," she said. Nadia walked to the far side of the clearing, giggling. He may be short of stature, she thought, but he was not a small man. He stepped out of the hut a moment later, wearing a pair of Relkan's trousers. He had no shirt on, however, and she gasped at the massive tattoo that covered his chest from one side to another. It was a great, stylized eagle, clutching a heart and a sword in its talons. The heart showed the only color than black on the tattoo, as it dripped blood. His chest was muscled as impressively as his legs, heavy, powerful musculature that rippled as he moved. His arms, too, were akin to the legs and chest, with biceps that curled into tight balls as he bent the arm to lift the blue tunic he had found. He slipped a tunic over his head, and it draped on him, a touch large, but adequate.

"I am so sorry to have exposed myself to you like that," he said. "It is just that the damn felt had been causing me to itch since I awoke." He face radiated sincerity, and she decided to accept his apology.

With a smile she said, "Well, had the view been less appealing, I would resent it more. Mostly, it was just rather a surprise." Her face flushed. Had she needed to compliment him? Probably not, but it did seem the honest thing to do.

He grinned sheepishly and looked at her. "I am just glad it had been a few minutes from that brief kiss you allowed me to take," he said. "Else the view would have been more, well, more."

Her blush now turned to deep crimson. "Sir," she said, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. "That is probably a bit too much knowledge for my confused mind." She was smiling broadly though, behind that hand, and her eyes betrayed her.

Giving her a askance look he said, "Something tells me you are not quite a coy as you pretend."

She lowered her shielding hand. "I would not want to be thought too loose of morals, either, sir," Her eyes grew a bit softer, as well. "Especially by a man as beautiful as you."

He smiled kindly. "I will, then, await your next move in the game," he said.

She laughed. "A game is it?" Then she paused to think. "Well, I suppose it does play a bit like one. Very well, sir, when I decide my move, rest assured. You will be the second to know." Her eyes grew consternated a moment. "We need a name to call you," she said, finally realizing what was bothering her. "I've seen you mostly unclad, yet know not your name, and that is vexing."

He concentrated. "I fear I still do not know," he murmured. "Choose one for me to wear until the time comes when my own reenters my mind."

She blinked a few times. To name a man was no minor feat, she soon realized. A child was a blank slate that a name was simply scribed into, and the child formed around the name. To give a man a new name was a very different task, for he was formed wholly, and well, she thought, grinning.

Her mind whirled with the possible options. "Gavin," she finally said.

"Gavin?" he asked. "Why Gavin, not that it is a poor choice."

"It was my father's name, and he was a handsome man, and I always thought him the strongest man on Feldare." She spoke with a rush of words.

The look in his eyes seemed near to tears, suddenly. "I would be honored to wear the name of your father, Nadia," he said. "For he is proven a great man to have given you life and helped you become what you are today." His voice took on a almost poetic air. "Huntress of Morrovale."

Her whole face slackened at his words, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. If this man desired her, she realized, he would have her, at his leisure. She had no defenses from such a smooth-talking man, and so handsome a face. Her eyes showed the resignation with which she regarded the current situation. She had a small kernel of hope that he would not wish to have her, and she would avoid heartache. In that hope lay her only sense of sanity.

When she finally began to breathe again, he was standing close to her. "Call me Gavin, then, Huntress."

She gulped. "Yes, Gavin," she said, and a delicious tremor ran down her spine at using her father's name to address a man. Of course he had always been 'dad' or 'father' to her. But her mother, who had been deeply in love with that selfsame man had called him 'Gavin.' Without realizing it she had imbued the man before her with her father's mystique, and her fond memories prior to her parents' death in a fire. Her heart swelled with the speaking of those words and it encompassed this mysterious man, and enveloped them both.

He smiled at her from a distance of a few inches. He had to see her forced breathing and the flickering of her eyes as she took in his features at such a close range. His hand came up and touched her neck. Without thinking she tilted her head and offered her throat to him. With the gentlest of touches he brushed his lips over her corded throat and then the lobe of her ear.

Nadia was gasping now, as Gavin slightly parted his lips, and the tip of his tongue traced down her throat, then forward to the lowest point of the 'v' her collar bones formed. Her own hands were at her side, opening and closing as if unsure of what to do or where to go. He slowly kissed and licked his way up the other collar bone and to her soft neck on the reverse side. He kissed under her lobe and then the lobe itself and a moan escaped her lips.

When he stood upright again, she was still breathing hard and her head was tilted back, with lips parted and eyes shut. She realized he was done for the moment, and shuddered through her whole body as the jangling nerves throughout her form relaxed.

"I thought you were waiting for my move?" she queried, though her eyes were not upset in the least.

"Now you are allowed two moves, then." He grinned widely. "And I..." He started to say but something blocked his speech, possibly it was her tongue as she kissed him soundly while locking her arms around his neck. Her long, muscular body pressed to his and she forced her pelvis slightly forward feeling his manhood twitching under the pressure of her prominent pubic bone.

This time, he was left panting from her forceful assault upon his lips. "Does that count as one?" she asked, batting her eyelashes theatrically.

He nodded, and held one hand out to a birch tree nearby to steady himself. "I believe it did," he murmured, his voice slightly slurred. Her eyes slid down his body and noted the prominent tenting of his trousers. A tiny smile flitted across her lips and she quickly brought her eyes back to his.

"Good," she said, with a sound of self-satisfaction. "Now, I will go get us something to eat, you should probably sit down, or lie down. I will be back shortly."

"I had forgotten my headache, to be honest," said Gavin. "But, alas, it is still there, lurking in the back of my mind."

"There are herbs that may help that problem, as well," she said. "If I come across any, I'll be sure to collect a bit."

He smiled. "I would be very grateful," he said, walking toward the hut as she picked her bow up and slung a quiver of long arrows over her shoulder.

Giving her a last long look as he entered the little shack. "I hope you will not be gone long," he said.

She walked out of the little clearing and began doing her job. Hunting consumed her as always, and knocked any errant ideas from her head. It cleared her mind, and allowed her to think analytically. She hoped deeply that this man was not toying with her, but what if he was? Did she have any means of preventing it, other than showing him a cold shoulder? Some tracks attracted her eye, a large rabbit, she thought, and began to follow them. Thoughts of Gavin fled her mind as she stalked, she became the Huntress, and fitted into the role. Moving with almost feline grace she slipped through the wood, and passed tightly-packed thickets without so much as a rustle.

Her body became an instrument, a weapon with its own agenda. The mission was simple, but it required all her senses, and all her thoughts. The rabbit burst from a patch of tall grasses before her. The bow sang an instant later, the arrow launched with the deadly and perfect accuracy of long days of practice. Relkan had insisted that she practice over an hour a day, and even now, she practiced three times a week or more. Firing her bow was second nature, and she often did not realize she had done so until she saw the animal drop to the ground.

The rabbit spun in the air as it was caught in mid-leap, the arrow impaling its tiny chest and tearing its small heart in two. She whispered a thanks to the One as she pulled her arrow from its pierced body and quickly gutted and skinned the little beast. Hunting always brought her mind back where it should be, she thought.

What if he was toying with her? What of it? Was she not enjoying the play? She grinned to herself. She certainly was, she decided. "Okay, Sir Mysterious," she said as she walked back toward the clearing, "let's see your hand." Two people, she clearly thought, could play games, had to, in fact, else there was no game to be played. Solitaire ate idle hours, but was not nearly so satisfying as a good hand of poker.

She entered the little cabin with the air of a conquering hero and tossed the rabbit's carcass upon the little table. She turned toward the little cot, where Gavin laid, looking at several pieces of the parchment. "Any luck?" she asked.

"No," he said, biting his lip. "It is just gibberish to me, sorry."

She sat upon the bed, leaning the bow against the rack as she passed it. "How are you feeling?" she asked solicitously.

He smiled up at her, fixing her with his nearly white eyes. "Much better, did you come across any herbs?"

She shook her head. Then took her quiver from her shoulder, setting it on the table next to the rabbit. She reached out and felt his brow, it was not warm, and his eyes no longer had that glazed look they had when he awoke first that morning. Her hand slid down his face to his cheek, then to his neck. Her fingertips memorizing the shape of his bones beneath the skin.

The papers were shoved back into the little pack and he looked up at her. "I could not hope for a more lovely nurse," he said, placing his hand over hers and pressing it to his neck's muscles.

She put on a grin that was half aggressive, and her eyes turned up to meet his. "You may find me a hard nurse to deal with, in the end," she said, her hand gripping on his neck tighter. "I do not play gently."

He grinned at that. "You seem a bit different now," he said. "More sure of yourself."

She let his neck loose, sliding her hand down his chest and over his belly, stopping just short of his groin. "I thought about things while I hunted, and came to several decisions," she said. "It need not concern you, the details, at least, but the resulting decisions will probably be to your liking." Her grin was completely self-assured now. "And definitely will be to mine." She looked at the rabbit, withdrawing her hand from his belly. "But first some fresh meat to feed the furnace," she said, and set to work preparing them a dinner.

They ate in relative quiet. They moved the table to near the bed and he sat upon it while she took the chair. The rabbit was good, even unspiced, she had cooked it well and the meat fairly fell from the bones as they pulled the cooked carcass apart. Apparently he was famished, as he ate a good three-quarters of it while she picked at the meat half-heartedly. Her mind was quite elsewhere, and she cooly thought to herself that Gavin would need more energy than she for what she was planning. He praised her cooking skill, as well as her talent for hunting, then her beauty, not necessarily in that order.

Nadia was no fool, she knew she was an attractive girl, healthy and well-built, but his praises of beauty were far beyond that, in her mind, though she did not feel too put out to accept them gracefully. She, naturally reciprocated his complimentary speech and made certain he knew she found him quite desirable.

As she cleaned up the aftermath of the meal, she told him to lie back down and rest some more. You will need your strength, she thought, but kept silent. She went outside and gathered a little more wood to face the cool of the fall night that was upcoming. With the sky clear, the temperature would drop quickly and probably to near freezing. She wanted no late night runs to the woodpile to feed the fire up.

Her little chores ate up the afternoon, and were done as the sun sank low in the sky. As she sat and took a moment to rest in her chair, he said. "I will lend you any help you ask, on the morrow," he said. "I would earn my keep if I may."

She grinned at him, again flashing her predatory smile. "Fear not, my pretty patient, you will be earning your keep this very night."

He blinked after her as she left the hut and went out into the dwindling light, snatching a blanket off a small shelf before leaving the room.

Nadia returned about half an hour later, her hair plastered to her scalp and the blanket blanket wrapped about her with her clothes in one hand. "Go bathe," she said, smiling. "There is a pond to your left as you leave the house, about two hundred yards." Her eyes sparkled as she watched him get up and grab a blanket from a small shelf. "Make sure to clean yourself very well," she remarked and watched him walk out.

She dropped the blanket form her shoulders and changed the linen on the small cot. By the time he would be back it would be nearly full dark outside. She laid upon the bed and anticipated his return. The only light in the tiny hut was from the gently crackling flames from the fireplace as he opened the door, wrapped in a blanket himself. He gasped when he saw her nude form lying on the bed, pressed to one side, obviously leaving him room to lie down as well.

With an audible gulp he let his blanket slip from his shoulders. "You seem comfortable," he quietly said. Giving her a long look with the red highlight of the fire illuminating her supine body.

She smiled up at him. "I decided that games are good and fine for youths, but we are both adults here." Nadia leaned up onto one elbow. "I want you, and I think you want me," she said, her voice growing breathy and lower in tone.

"Quite a lot, actually," murmured Gavin. She took his dangling hand and pulled him toward the cot, forcing him to sit upon it. Her expression was exceptionally at peace, she had made the choice and intended to enjoy the benefits of that decision.

He touched her ribs with his fingertips, then slowly tracked them up her ribs, feeling the bones beneath her smooth flesh. Then he began climbing the small, firm mound of her right breast. She sighed and laid back down as his fingertips found her nipple, and pinched it between them. "Do you still find me beautiful?" she said, watching his pale eyes in the dim light.

"More than that, you're wondrous," he said. Fingers slipped over the cleft between her breasts and onto the opposite nipple, tweaking it and causing her to gasp. Her own hand had been slowly inching its way across the sheets and slipped up onto his thigh. Before she had traveled more than an inch or two up his slightly hairy thigh she found the head of his manhood, lying flat against his thigh, nearly touching the bed. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of his swollen phallus, so far only guessed at in size.

"Speaking of wondrous," she said, taking hold of the meaty shaft of his organ. "You were aware you were carrying a concealed weapon, weren't you?"

He chuckled. "I am immensely glad you like it," said Gavin.

Nadia let her hand slide up the shaft to the hairy base. "I like its immensity," she said, stroking it gently. The rod hardened quickly under the touch of her cool, slim fingers. She looked at it again as it stuck out from him straight and only slightly curved upward. "How large is it?" She asked.

"I've no idea," he said with a shrug. Nadia pushed back the tightly-stretched foreskin until it popped over the base of the swollen helmet topping his cock. The head alone looked to be more than she could accommodate in her mouth easily. Many men tapered down their length, she had found, but not this endowed man, his was a uniform width down its entire length, then swelled almost a half-inch thicker forming massive helmet atop a thick, long soldier.

He moaned as her fingers slipped up and down the wide shaft and she loved the heavy, substantial feel of his organ, somehow it felt more 'real' than the cocks of her former lovers. Gavin was better endowed, by far, than all of them. The skin was incredibly smooth and warm, and her hands seemed to move of their own accord, stroking it and petting it.

Gavin kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and gently petting her own. His hand had left her pert breast, and moved down her smooth stomach to the top of her trim little patch of fur. "You trim your hairs," he said, smiling at her. "Very Ghantian of you," he added.

"I did it once for a man-friend, and found it to my liking," she said.

"I find it much to my liking, as well," murmured Gavin into her neck, even as his fingers slipped through the small tangle and onto her already excited clitoris. She gasped at this sudden and very much hoped for contact. Her own hands clamping down hard and eliciting a equivalent gasp from him as she squeezed the head of his pole tightly. He pressed back with his hand, further between her long, slim legs. She parted them for him, allowing him access to her most intimate of places. His fingers explored the soft fleshy folds of her opening, then one adventurous digit burrowed into her, feeling the way and then welcoming one of its companions to explore her with it. A gentle, and painfully slow groan escaped her as he slowly slipped the fingers in and out of her tight slit.

Nadia had always produced copious lubricating fluids. However, this time, she seemed determined to drench the bed linen. As his fingers moved into her and pulled forth, they made a obvious wet sound that somewhat embarrassed her, but seemed to thrill Gavin, as he moved his fingers in such a way to maximize the volume of that sound, and caused her to groan in pleasure as she felt her own fluids flow around her thigh, front and back, soon, the bed beneath her hip was moist with her, then damp, and still he let his fingers penetrate her and stimulate her. His thumb rubbed roughly over her sensitive little clitoris, and she gritted her teeth at the overstimulation of that tiny button.

Her own hands tried to keep time with his fingers' motion, stroking the long, thick shaft quicker and quicker. She looked down at the engorged phallus and still widened her eyes, though its size was nothing new by now. The fingers stopped violating her tight little hole and pulled out, leaving a small slick of wetness in their wake. Her right thigh glistened with spilled juices, and he lapped at his fingers, savoring her special scent and taste.

She took this chance to move herself, also, twisting about and bringing her lovely face near to his groin. As she moved closer, she felt him stiffen throughout his body, and there was a audible shudder as her lips first touched the man's fat, stout pole. She opened her mouth and kissed the head of his organ just as his tongue started sliding up her inner thigh.

His organ was so thick that she could barely get her lips around the bulbous head, and she could not get much of it into her mouth before it ran up against her pallette. She took what she could, and applied her quick tongue to the underside of the helmet, along the little ridge of flesh there. He moaned, and she took that as encouragement. Gripping the remaining cock in both hands, she found she had a few inches even still, to stroke his pole.

He stopped his tongue's trek up her long, smooth thigh and laid there for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of her hot, moist mouth engulfing the end of his manhood. The wet slick down her thigh caught his eye and he finished his little journey and locked his mouth over her crotch. He immediately tasted the juices that flowed copiously from her opening, and found it to his liking. As he tongued her labia and slipped into her a little ways, she felt his teeth resting just above the hood of her clitoris. As his head moved, the teeth slid over her fleshy mound and sent startling spikes of pleasure through her lean body.

As they stimulated one another, he wrapped his arms around her petite waist and pulled her close to him. His length forced her to arch her back but she did not complain. It increased the tension on her already tight stomach and forward thigh muscles. He was able to actually lap at her juices, else he could suck and drink of her fluids which were filling her insides, until his tongue broke the near seal her vagina maintained. With a soft whimper, she felt her orgasm take her, and she twitched with each flick of his tongue and touch of his teeth. She paused a long moment, not moving anything, then gave a great spasm which drove his cock deeper into her mouth, and caused her to cough. A great volume of her fluids filled his mouth and he drank deeply of her, even coating his cheeks and neck in her slick lubricants.

He touched her head, gently urging her up from his organ and her mouth and hands' ministrations of it. She sat up, blinking and smiling. Every few moments, a small twitch ran down both her thighs. Nadia laid down upon the bed and moved her long legs apart. Her hands locked onto the framework that passed for a headboard on this bed and her knuckles shone white in the dim firelight. "Be easy at first, Gavin," she said quietly, "you could hurt a girl with that thing."

He smiled as he laid atop her. She was amazed at how little he weighed. Reaching down between her legs she took hold of his thick shaft and guided it toward her waiting and very ready opening. Slowly, with delicious deliberateness, he moved forward. The fat head pressed against her tight opening. As he pressed inward, she felt quite a lot of discomfort until she reached down and pulled her labia far apart and held them aside for him to enter her. He slipped slowly deeper into her and she moaned at the sensation of being spread open so much. The feeling of utter fullness was approaching soon, and she was eager with the anticipation of it.

Another inch followed the first couple, then another. He was over halfway in her slight body and pressing deeper every moment. Her breathing was ragged and short, as if she were hurt. He slowed down until she started sounding more normal. As she finally opened her eyes and gazed at him, she said, "I find myself afraid I'll not be able to satisfy you fully, Gavin."

"I am more than satisfied already, sweet Nadia," he murmured as another inch spread her more deeply. There was less than a hand's span left of his shaft to enter her and she was eager to have it. As he slipped another inch into her she bucked upward, taking all but the last inch. This disappeared into her cunt as he pushed into her for the last thrust. Now his very sparsely haired pubic patch was pressed to her trim but dense patch of hairs.

She could even feel his enormous balls resting on her, one on her butt cheek, the other on the crack of her rump. As he set up a slow, even pattern of penetration and withdrawal, she could feel the huge head spreading her in anticipation of larger things. His own breathing became raspy, then tinged with a growl. By the time he said, "I am about to spend." It had descended, to a guttural grunt with each stroke. Another half-minute and he was coming deep in her slit, and filling her with his semen. She moaned at the sensation, and opened her eyes wide.

"I hope you are willing to be a father," she said, "should that spend take."

He looked down at her. "Of course, beautiful Nadia." Then his face twitched in a most peculiar way, and he looked quite confused, pulling his thick pole, still mostly, erect from her body with a hint of a sucking sound. He looked at her and said, "Richard."

She blinked a couple of times. "Richard?" She repeated. "Is that your name?"

He stared blankly at her a long moment. "No. It's a name I know well, though," he said. "I apologize for interrupting our moment there." He grinned sheepishly.

She waved a negligent hand. "I think we were done," said Nadia. "Though a bit of a cuddle would be nice." Her smile broadened and he laid back down beside her. She laid her head on his muscular shoulder and ran her fingertips over his well-defined chest.

His eyes were wide open, and he stared at the ceiling. "I don't know who Richard might be. I thought I almost had it, but it's gone now," said Gavin.

She kissed him. "We will find your past, Gavin," said Nadia. "It will return to you."

He nodded slowly. "I think, maybe, it will," he said and kissed her back.

Nadia slid down to the foot of the bed and stood. She suddenly felt like her vagina was trying to slide out of its own opening. Her hand shot down between her legs and caught a massive plug of semen and her own fluids. It coated her fingers and dripped to the floor. Her face was a mask of embarrassment, but Gavin seemed to regard it as normal.

"Do you always leave your women with a few pints of your finest?" Nadia asked, her eyes wide with awe.

He shrugged. "I wish I could remember if there even have been any other women," he said.

She grinned as she wiped her fluid-slicked fingers on the bedsheet. "It is possible that you've never done so, especially considering what you just gave me." She could still feel his seed running out of her open hole, it would be hours before her entrance could close properly after the violation of his massive cock.

He chuckled. "I suppose that could be true," he said. "But somehow, I think I've been with a woman before."

Nadia giggled. "I know you have," she said. "That was no novice's performance, with the teeth."

She got a large drink of water from a mug on the table and offered him a sip. She then crawled over him, making sure to give him a long, deep kiss as she straddled his middle, then laid beside him again. "I'd always heard about knights and their lances..." she said, letting the comment drift off unfinished.

He chuckled again. "Oh?" asked Gavin. "What of them?"

She nuzzled his neck. "Nothing in particular," she murmured. "I just wonder if perhaps I rescued the horse and left the knight in the mud." She was finding it a little uncomfortable to put her legs atop one another and rested one on his thigh.

He grinned at the ceiling. "Your compliments are likely to give me a swollen head," he said.

Her snort of laughter into his neck came as a surprise, then he translated the statement to himself in his head. "Oh," he said, and grinned wider. "Yeah, that too."

She kissed his neck a moment longer, then she realized he was asleep. She watched him in the ruddy firelight and admired his muscular body and his beautiful face. She tried to take in all his features by the reddened colors. But her eyes kept being drawn to the massive eagle on his chest. It disconcerted her, and she could not get the twinge of worry out of her mind whenever she looked at it, with its talon around a bleeding heart.

Eventually, she slept, though she was unsure when it came upon her.

The light of morning was bright in her eyes as she awoke, and Gavin was not in the bed. She scanned the room quickly, but knew he was not there either. She slipped from the bed, a slight ache in her groin reminding her of the adventures of last night. She smiled at the memory of it. His beautiful face in ecstasy as he spent into her. A shiver ran through her body at the recollection.

She put a clean tunic on and opened the door. Gavin was out there, in just his loaned pants. He had the massive broadsword out of its scabbard and was swinging it. He seemed quite comfortable with the weapon, despite his claims to not remember it.

His shoulders were glistening with the sweat of his exertion despite the cool morning air. He was pretty impressive, with his rippling muscles and light build. He turned to face the sound of the door squeaking shut behind her. "Nadia," he said, smiling. "Good morning."

"You're feeling better?" she asked, sitting upon a tree stump near the hut, careful to fold the cloth of the shirt under her rump to keep her skin from being chilled.

"Very much so," he said. "It seems that my nurse knew her healing arts and blessed me with a very special form of restorative magic." He winked as he said this last and she smiled back.

"I'm not sure you're fully well, though, do you have your memory back?" she asked.

His look darkened slightly. "Unfortunately, no," replied Gavin. Then his face brightened. "But my nurse can quite readily keep treating me in hopes that it will return."

"I suppose I'd be willing to keep up the treatment program for a while," she said, though in actuality, she wanted a bit of a break after the hurting he had given her last night from just his sheer size.

Gavin chuckled. "Good, for I would sorely miss the procedure," he said. She was entranced with his glistening muscles as he moved in the bright morning sunlight. He walked up to her and kissed her gently. Her heart felt like a rabbit caught in a snare, and it flopped helplessly inside her chest.

Even if he was a sadistic man who sought to hurt her with each act of passion, she would give herself to him, she knew. He was too beautiful to deny, and too courteous of word to be gainsayed. She loved the feeling it gave her, and she hated the feeling it gave her. She sincerely hoped this man would not abuse the power he had over her.

He slid the sword back into its scabbard and sat it upon the little rack inside the cabin door. "Perhaps we can go to Morrovale tomorrow?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, you seem ready," she replied. "And seem to have plenty of energy." She added as he put his powerful arms around her and kissed her neck.

"Your beauty causes my heart to ache," he murmured into her neck and she felt his fingers stroking her hair. He was kneeling on the ground beside the stump and this brought his head to the same level as hers. She turned to face him and kissed him more properly, feeding him her slender tongue. Her knees moved to either side of his 'v' shaped body and she scooted to the edge of the stump to get closer to him.

His organ was swelling as she felt it slide up and lift her tunic from the front. She broke the kiss and peered down at the engorging cock. Thoughts of the ache in her groin disappeared like vapor as she watched it lift her shirt higher and higher. Her hand automatically went to it and, moving the shirt out of the way, gripped it around its base. He was staring at her intensely, watching her expression. She wondered what he had seen already before she realized he was watching.

His strong hand moved hers aside and he took his pole by the base himself. Her mouth partially opened as he slid it over the opening of her vagina. Surely he cannot enter me without... " the thought was obliterated as his organ impaled her with a single thrust. She was already wet and ready to receive him. No one was more stunned than Nadia that just the momentary thought of this man taking her soon would cause her to virtually gush forth with wetness. The massive pole slipped into her with no resistance and she felt only a very momentary twinge of pain at its intrusion. Then she was spread open and filled to the brim, like a cup of wine. Her legs went up and she locked her feet behind his back as he pushed into her again and again. Her rump was cold from the juices flowing into the cloth under it then chilling in the cool air. But everywhere else, she felt as if she were burning alive. He put his arms around her waist and shoulders, and stood up, taking her into the air with him. His thrusting stopped for a moment as he carried her, still impaled upon his massive organ, to the wall of the hut. There he pushed her against the wall, smashing her breasts flat, as he shifted his hands to just her slender waist. Her arms went around his neck as she realized what he intended.

Stepping back from the wall he lifted her up his pole, then dropped her down onto it again, filling her back up from the slight suction his pulling out had left. Faster and faster he did this, ramming her down on his organ and stopping her momentum with only his hands. Soon she realized her own arms were extraneous and released his neck and leaned back. By the One he is unbelievably strong, she thought as he supported her entire weight with just his hands upon her waist. It hurt her ribs a little, but was well worth the new sensations of tension that her taught muscles throughout her body brought to her. Her cunt welcomed him eagerly, seeming to suck at his manhood with each pulling out, then relaxing when he had measured her depth thoroughly.

For long moments, he kept this up, finally driving up into her so hard that their bodies slapped loudly into one another. "By the One!" Nadia exclaimed. "You're killing me!" She screamed as her climax ripped through her this time, rather than the timid whimpering thing she had the night prior. Her nails dug into his chest and her feet pulled on his waist, hoping to drive him harder still into her. Her entire body broke out in a lush of goose pimples and her scream continued until she was gasping for air, still climaxing. He never slowed down, even as she finally came down off the incredible high she had just enjoyed. In fact, he sped up, and his own little moans and grunts gained in intensity. She stared in wonder as his face took on a almost angelic look, and then he tilted his head back and yelled into the wild woods, screaming out, "Nadia!" At the top of his lungs. With a final, desperate plunge into her violated and bruised entrance he spent himself into her. She gasped as she felt her womb fill with his seed and then trickle out of her around his thick shaft.

Slowly he withdrew from her, lifting her body off his cock, and setting her gently back down as she unfolded with a slight display of pain to plant her feet upon the cold ground. Light blue marks on her waist showed where he had held her and bore her weight on two points. She inhaled deeply, not realizing how much air he had denied her lungs due to the intense compression he had kept upon her middle. Semen ran down both thighs as he kissed her, and it quickly cooled in the morning airs. His massive cock was going limp and lying against his own thighs as he pulled back and smiled at her.

She smiled, too, for it had been wondrous. Even if, in the aftermath, she would suffer for it. "Did it seem to help?" she asked, grinning.

He blinked a couple of times, then said. "I suppose not, I still don't know my name," he replied. "But I definitely remember yours." He added, shining a bright smile upon her. She noted his voice had a little rasp to it, as if he had damaged his throat with the scream. She looked down at the eagle upon his chest, and shuddered. Why did his tattoo discomfit her so? She wondered.

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