The Belgariad: Sorceror's Mate
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Ma/ft, mt/Fa, Fa/ft, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, Mind Control, Magic, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Fan Fiction, Incest, Brother, Sister, Father, Daughter, Aunt, Nephew, Spanking, Rough, Sadistic, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Orgy, White Couple, White Male, White Female, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Fisting, Bestiality, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Size, Body Modification, Big Breasts, Public Sex,
Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Garion, sorceror-in-training, is finally getting his first taste of leadership. But when his party encounters a love-tree from Nyissa, he can't resist staying underneath its boughs for a while, and exploring the body of Princess Ce'Nedra, one of his travelling partners...
Garion was struggling with the new responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. Belgarath the sorcerer, 7000 years old and respected by all, had decided it was time to give his "grandson" a taste of leadership, and so Garion was head of the leading party. He'd been allowed to choose his men, but he was starting to wonder if he'd been altogether selfless in his selection.
Truly, if he was being honest with himself, any man choosing a team would be a fool to not choose Belgarath or his daughter, Polgara, two of the most powerful sorcerers that the world had ever known. But Garion knew that if he'd selected either of them, they would automatically have stepped into the leadership role, a new role that Garion was keen to taste.
Similarly, Silk was a natural choice for a new leader. The weasel-faced man, silver-tongued and sharp-witted was adept at finding flaws in any plan. But it was exactly this trait that had caused Garion to leave Silk with the sorcerers - he wanted to lead, him, not simply be Silk's puppet. At least, that's what he told himself - in truth, he wasn't confident enough to hear any criticism, and so he had surrounded himself with friends - perhaps not the strongest possible team, but certainly the most supportive.
At his right hand was Lelldorin, the Arendian. Garion enjoyed having him by his side, knowing that if trouble struck, Lelldorin's loyalty and bravery would serve the party well. What's more, Lelldorin's immaturity and flightiness had ensured that he had never been placed in a position of authority, and he would be unable (and unlikely) to assess and critique Garion's own leadership skills.
Garion, leading the pack, held up his hand, and everyone stopped. Ahead on the path was a tree, the like of which Garion had never before encountered - not unusual in itself; less than a year ago, his life had been turned upside-down as he discovered that his "Aunt" Polgara was a sorceror, the thieving storyteller who visited the farm was the legendary Belgarath, and he himself was no ordinary farmboy, but a vital part in fulfilling a prophecy that would change the world forever.
Before then, he'd never left Sendaria - he'd barely left Faldor's farm. In the last few months, he'd seen many varied lands, from the swamps of Nyissa to the Woods of the Dryads, but the sighting of a tree he'd never seen before wouldn't cause him to look twice, let alone stop the party.
But there was something unusual about this tree ... it was surrounded by-
"And why, pray tell, have we stopped?"
Garion's thoughts were interrupted by Princess Ce'Nedra's haughty tones. Garion was struggling with the responsibilities of leadership, struggling with the new discoveries thrust upon him each and every day, the knowledge that he was a vital part of prophecies that countless individuals had been working towards for thousands of years ... but Garion was struggling with nothing more than he was struggling with Princess Ce'Nedra.
By the same logic he'd decided to avoid keeping Silk in his party, he should certainly have put the Princess with his "aunt" and "grandfather", but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't, Garion was quick to remind himself, that he enjoyed her company or anything of the sort - no, he found that she wavered between openly intolerable, and at best simply obnoxious and insubordinate.
But irritating though her presence was, he found that somehow she was even more of a distraction when she wasn't present. His thoughts would constantly wander, wonder about her whereabouts, and rather than question that train of thought too deeply, it had been easier to simply ask her to accompany him.
Garion turned to look at her. She was almost a woman now, he realised, before again forcing himself to stop thinking such things. He avoided admiring her flowing red locks, her glowing, almost golden skin, and the swell of her young breasts. He refused to admit that the green dress that she wore contrasted beautifully with her skin, that her hair framed her face perfectly, and that the cleavage she showed was subtle enough to not appear deliberate, yet visible enough to fill Garion's head with thoughts of...
Of course, he wasn't thinking of any of that.
"That tree," he simply replied, not trusting his tongue to impart any more information than that.
Mandorallen followed his gesture, and looked at the tree that had caught Garion's interest. The Baron of Vo Mandor, Mandorallen was a huge, imposing figure of a man. Upon first glance, one could not be blamed for thinking that Mandorallen was nothing but a warrior, a thug of a man who enjoyed his well-polished armor, and running foes through with his sword.
Upon hearing Mandorallen speak, one might then adjust their opinion to think that he was nothing but bluster and cockiness - but before a third thought could even form, one would most likely have been on the receiving end of the Arendian's lance. Only those who got to know the large man realised that it wasn't bluster - he was true to his word. If Mandorallen claimed that he was going to run you in two, your only options were running or fighting - there was no bluff to call.
"Prithee," Mandorallen began. "My eyes hath never before seen such a tree, though mine parent-folk did talk about such things in story."
"I've heard these stories too." Garion was surprised to hear Hettar join in the conversation; the tall, hawk-faced man rarely spoke, preferring the company of the horses they rode on. Hettar was an Algar - with his head shaved bald, his dark leather clothing, and his black scalp lock, he was an imposing figures It wasn't until you got to know the man that you realised what a gentle soul he was, sharp-witted and generous, with a genuine love for the non-human beasts that he was able to communicate with.
"So tell me," Garion asked, a trifle impatiently. "What are these stories?"
Before they could share, there was a gasp. Princess Ce'Nedra had finally seen what had made Garion pull up short - the tall, unusual tree, surrounded by animals rutting.
Every type of animal that Garion had seen in the area was there, and each had a mate (if not more than one.) Dogs, pigs, birds, and if you peered closely enough, insects of all kinds could be seen, all of them within a few feet of the tree, all of them engaged in intercourse with their partner(s). Being brought up on a farm, Garion had seen livestock mating before, but whenever his Aunt Pol had caught him staring she had boxed his ears, and it was this upbringing that came to the fore now - once he'd realised what he was looking at, he'd looked away at once.
Ce'Nedra, however, had apparently not had such a childhood - she was staring, mouth agape, at the fornicating animals. Garion couldn't help but laugh at her expression, but not even that could distract her. After he'd laughed for a few seconds, Garion was the one who had to look away - the sight of Princess Ce'Nedra so entranced was doing things to him, and he wasn't quite prepared to deal with what that meant quite yet.
Tearing his eyes away from Ce'Nedra's face, Garion noticed that the rest of his party was similarly staring at her. A surge of jealousy came upon him, and he reminded himself that he was the leader here.
"Mandorallen," he barked, "Hettar. What are these stories?"
The two men blushed as they realised how distracted they had allowed themselves to become by the young princess. Hettar, not unexpectedly, gestured for Mandorallen to speak.
"The tree," Mandorallen started dramatically, "hath been given many names by the people of this world. Said to originally be a gift from the god of the Nyissans, Issa to his bride, the tree causes a deep, rich love to take hold of whomever should smell its rich scent. Thy nose shalt be the recipient of its flower, but the love shalt spread throughout thine whole body."
"Then why is it here?" Garion asked, puzzled. Now that it had been pointed out, he could see the resemblance of the tree to the twisted plants that had grown in the swamps of Nyissa, but Nyissa was more than a week's walk away.
"The flowers doth bloom but once each hundred years, but when they do, they spread far and wide, and all that have smelled their glorious odor are said to carry the seed of the flower with them until that sad day when they do die."
Garion turned to Hettar.
"If you've smelled the flower, when you die, a tree grows where you're buried." Hettar clarified.
"So why are those animals..."
"They're in love!" Princess Ce'Nedra said, interrupting Garion snidely. "I don't know what you learn in Sendaria, but I was taught from a young age that sex is the truest expression of love. Look at the creatures - there's no pain on their faces, they're just expressing their love the only way they know how."
"It must be that time of the century when the flower blooms," Lelldorin added.
The team turned to Garion, who was sitting silently in reflection. This was it. This was his first major decision as leader - the part of the country they were in was far too rough for them to take the horses off the path, and it looked as though there was no way of going forward without passing through the scent of the tree's flowers.
He could turn back, encounter Belgarath's party (an hour or so behind them) and admit defeat, that his first role as leader had been to slow them all down by half a day or so.
Or he could risk going through the flowers.
"We'll go through," Garion announced confidently. Hettar looked at him with brows raised, but didn't say anything. He couldn't read the expression on Ce'Nedra's face, and Mandorallen just nodded, ever-loyal and happy to obey the party's leader. Lelldorin was the only one to say anything.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "What if..."
"I," Garion said, cutting him off, "will use my sorcery to ensure that nothing happens to us."
Garion tried to sound sure of himself, but wasn't honestly sure what manner of sorcery he was capable of, let alone what he was able to use here. The tree ahead was covered in thin pink flowers, and almost as if they had seen the party coming, a fresh wave had started to detach from the boughs and drift towards them on the wind.
The party moved forward, and Garion tried to visualise a shield, an orb of protection around the party. He imagined the flowers hitting it and bouncing off, and as they got closer was delighted to see that no matter how close they got to the tree, the flowers never came within a few feet of Mandorallen, who sat confidently at the head of the horses.
Everyone, including Garion, visibly relaxed when they realised that they were at no risk of coming into contact with the flowers, and their attention instead moved to ensuring that they did not step on any of the animals that dotted the path ahead.
As Garion neatly side-stepped a pair of sparrows who were breeding as if their very lives depended on it, he chanced a glance at the Princess. She was ahead of him, almost directly underneath the tree, and to his surprise had stopped.
He was about to call out to her, but instead he followed her gaze. She was staring at a pair of creatures that had been masked by the tree, unable to be seen from their starting position on the path. The beasts were furious entangled, copulating with an intensity that Garion had never seen before. He wasn't surprised that she was staring, it was a remarkable sight to behold (and they were, of course, the token animal of the Tolnedrans.)
Beside them on the path were a lion and a lioness, seemingly close to orgasm.
They must have spotted the bounty of fresh meat, come racing over, and quickly become ensnared by the flowers' scent, Garion realised. The rest of the party gathered to see what Garion and Ce'Nedra were staring at, and soon all five of them were just standing there, taking in the sight of the majestic creatures in front of them.
After a few minutes of watching the giant cats rut, Garion couldn't help but again turn and look at Ce'Nedra. He didn't know what it was about the spoiled princess, but she was fascinating to him, even at times when it was incredibly inconvenient. There was something about the earnest and shocked expression on her cute, freckled face ... the glow of her golden skin ... the curve of her body as it sat delicately on the horse, fragile ... yet strong.
As if she could feel his eyes upon her, Ce'Nedra turned. The two of them just sat and stared into each others' eyes for time uncountable, unaware of the seconds and minutes ticking by, unaware that the attention of their travelling partners had turned from the lions to themselves, unaware of anything except the connection between them, the exquisite perfection of simply staring at someone and having them be the only other person in your life.
They didn't know, but twelve minutes and twenty-five seconds passed before Garion reached up his hand. His mind was simultaneously racing and completely blank - he had a vague awareness that he was the leader, and was taking what was his, but this thought contrasted with the complete submission he felt to Ce'Nedra's beauty and poise.
All he could hear in his head was a roaring, as his hand reached out and caressed her cheek. All he could feel was his heart pounding, as he leaned forward and brought his lips to hers. All he could taste was the sweetness of her mouth, as the three older men around him watched him take the flower of youth that they'd travelled with for so long.
Garion broke off the kiss, and looked up. The orb of protection he'd set up was still in place - the tree was frantically shedding flowers, trying desperately to influence the group, and they had started to pile up and form a canopy above their heads - but none had got through.
"Good," he thought. "That means that what just happened wasn't the influence of the tree. I'm still completely in control of myself, and so is Ce'Nedra."
With that thought ringing in his head, he leaned forward and kissed the princess once more - this time more strongly, with more passion. He reached around her waist and pulled her towards him - her horse was forced to take a step towards his, and soon the four of them were in close contact - Garion with Ce'Nedra, and his horse with hers.
He ran his hand up and down her back, and she reached up and grabbed his hair. They'd both been waiting for this, he realised, they'd both been waiting for weeks - maybe months - for an excuse, a reason to drop the social niceties and feel their skin upon each other.
As her hand tussled his hair, and his hand followed her spine down her back, he realised that was what was missing - skin. He wanted ... nay, needed to feel her skin on his, and without a second thought, he tore her dress open from the back, and as he watched the cloth drop, removed his own shirt.
Her breasts were everything he'd imagined they would be - they stood proudly on her chest, large for her small figure, each of them perfectly formed and topped off with pink nipples. He brought her even closer to her for another kiss, and felt her nipples press against his own slightly hairy chest.
Ce'Nedra moaned as Garion brought his hands up and started pulling and tugging at her nipples. Sensations were running through her body that she'd never felt before; there had been hints of them before, sometimes when she stared at Garion, or watched him change, and quite often when she thought about him as she bathed ... but nothing like this before. She felt out of control, her whole body tingled, and she wanted more.
This, she realised, must be what love felt like.
With that revelation, she cast off the last of her doubts. She was in love! She was finally able to admit it, and she didn't mind who saw it.
Breaking off the kiss, Ce'Nedra lowered herself down and latched her lips around Garion's nipples. She had discovered, many years ago, how good it felt when a hand brushed over her nipple, and she had long fantasized about someone (since she'd met him, almost exclusively Garion) doing this to her - and after all, wasn't that love? Doing to others what you would have them do to you?
Now it was Garion's turn to moan. On some level, he knew that he loved Ce'Nedra, that he'd always loved her ... but right now, as she suckled on his nipple and sent electricity straight to his brain, all he could think was that he deserved this. He was the leader, and he was taking what was his. He was a hero, and Ce'Nedra was his prize.
Garion reached down, and ripped the rest of the green dress off: he was delighted to discover that she wore nothing under it, as he had long suspected (and dreamt about, often.) He reached down and cupped the princess's soft mound - it was covered in a thin layer of fuzz, the same colour as her hair, and Garion was delighted to find that she was practically dripping.
Without ceremony or warning, he dipped one finger inside her, and smiled as she squealed in surprise and joy. Removing his finger, he pulled the princess from her administrations and ensured that she watched him taste her. To him, it represented ownership; to her, love. Both were overcome with emotion, and quickly locked lips once more.
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