Leaving again

Stark threw his umpteenth name off like an ill-fitting and outdated outfit. It was actually a name he liked. He'd miss it, as well as missing the woman who wrote or uttered that syllable to refer to that which was him. He looked out at the overcast San Francisco sky. It was as cloudy and murky as his soul...or whatever it was that he had that could be thought of as analogous to a "soul".

He had been through this similar scenario before, all of this parting-is-such-sappy-sorrow-shit. In his time on the Earth - three-thousand years or more, about five hundred of which he could "remember" - he'd had at least one host and often many more every hundred years or so. He felt no guilt. Mona, the manic-depressive loner with the most intense synaesthesia he'd played or worked with in a sape's brain in three thousand-plus years - well, she was slowly becoming more occupied with the world. She wanted to be with people - real people, that's how she put it. Stark winced...and imagined her doing all kinds of things with humans that he knew that he could do as a sentient virus in a much more superior mode. But she wasn't having any of this; she obviously had an agenda.

"But, you know about power..." she had told him, nineteen candles and electric lamps flaming in her city room. "You used to talk to me at night after you would do all of those...things...to me..." She managed a half-smile. "About how to Undermine and Overwhelm." She shook out a last cigaret and flared a too-tall Bic flame on it. "I need to mingle with them to ...you know. Plant the seeds. To take over their thinking, pattern by pattern..." Mona got out of bed, her black velvet sheet falling to the floor in folds and ripples. She was taking bites out of a red, shiny apple and crunching it with gusto between her sentences as if for punctuation effect. She walked to her stereo, took out that arousing Nitzer Ebb CD and replaced it with some 4AD music..."This Dead Mortal Dance Can Coil" or something to that effect.

She sighed and got back in her bed. He slid up beside her and rested his head of blonde-streaked hair over her smooth belly and collapsed. She started to feel maudlin, and stroked his hair, his back, his legs and arrow-prong cock.

Stark sighed, as if in unison. His kind weren't born with emotions, but tended to develop them over the hundreds of years that they lived in the minds of the sapes. And this was death - that is what all his brethren in the aethyrs told him. Once the will he had to exist in the dimension that was his plane was undermined by feeling attachments to sapes as anything other than strictly a feeding ground, he would slowly be drawn by the unrelenting forces of gravity down into the very center of the earth...but before he reached it, the buckling and breaking of the tectonics of mantle and crust would snap him, compact him, squeeze him into yet another earthquake, a blip on a seismograph, a newborn of his kind. For that was the life cycle of such creatures - the power-eaters, or the Quakeborn...an adjunct to humankind from the first days that humans walked the earth. They lived with people, side-by-side, in their very brains. Very few minds actually contain only the consciousness of their owners. Almost all sapes carry these viral parasites as well, but very, very few of the humans make contact with their mind-roommates, and those who do almost invariably cry "demonic possession!" and ran for the silly tools of crucifixes and the like to rid themselves of their counterparts.

Mona had been different. When a sape acknowledges the power-eater in a positive fashion, a reward is given to that sape that usually sates them for a lifespan - the parasite becomes instead a symbiont. In exchange for the power that they eat - a power connected with erotic arousal - the entity becomes the sape's lover, and always, always the best they'd ever had...or ever would have. Forever.

They were not vampires, his kind; nor were they ghosts. It was to be expected: the sapes knew the species existed, but how do you artistically and dramatically represent experiences in dimensions you can not even imagine, much less experience yourself? You do a crappy, half-assed job...thus the sapes have their vampires and daemons and the like. His kind had a name but no sape could pronounce or write it. "Power-eater" or "Assimilator" were the closest translations.

Stark could see how she could be lured to the solidness of humans. But the humans - sapes - were terminally unreliable, had a habit of lying about how much power they really possessed, and had, since time immemorial, a penchant for getting tangled up in emotionally sticky spiderwebs of uncertain timelines - for they had none of the time-transcendent qualities of the arguably very advanced race of virii. These qualities, and so many, many more assorted random and sundry powers made Stark, in comparison, much more substantial than any sape could ever be. But he lacked the ability to control matter. By manipulating the sapes he could have anything he wanted. But it was not the kind of control he found himself aching for more and more of the time.

Sometimes he wanted to create objects and symbols all by himself, as opposed to doing it through the hands of Mona Lythik or another host. He wanted to leave his mark on the earth. He always needed to have a host - a lover who would trade his or her hands for his gift of awesome sexuality...and his slow and masterful means of making her - or him - ache with overprolonged desire and then taking over in a single invasive manoevre. But no. It wasn't going to last. Wasn't enough for her, either.

Mona! Oh why...why...? He would have cried had he a body; Mona, however, cried enough for both.

She said goodbye to him. He kissed her goodbye with a final jolt to the spinal cord, and dispersed.

Time slashed. Space flashed.
The eigenvector did something else

"Sweetroot!"
Kritt turned to look where Vijla pointed. She sighed inwardly at the sight of the shrivelled tops, dark brown among the yellow-white stalks of last years grass. Really she should be happy. It was food. Fighting to overcome her own crankiness she pulled back her lips in an effort to smile at her friend.
They had been living on flour mixed with bark for most of the winter. That - and sweetroot, which Kritt had always had trouble swallowing. They had run out of sweetroot last week. And the bread in their packs had used up the last flour. That was why the two girls were far outside the usual haunts of the villagers. The girls were the only children of the two unmated and landless women in the village. Hence their houses were among the first to starve. The villagers shared their food. That was part of "the Obligation". But of course one did not "share away" the very best. Or most.
They helped each other wringing the fat roots out of the ground using their sharpened staffs. Worms had already been at the roots. Still, most of them were usable. They brushed off the soil and put the roots in the wickerbaskets on their backs. Then they continued through the forest. Kritt got out her sling again and continued looking for small game. There was not much small game to begin with, and the critters were wary. Once in a while she let a stone fly. So far without hitting anything.
"Least we bring back something." Vijle gazed after another stone diasppearing into the thicket as another dotted hen got safely away. She shrugged her back pack into a more comfortable position.
"Uh." Kritt was busy ignoring the hen and was watching a grey squirrel. "That one looks fat."
"Which? Oh, 'at squirrel. Ah. Too bad it not edible."
"Got a cache somewhere. Try follow it. If we are lucky it just moved into this cache. Quiet'a."
"Ah."
They lost the squirrel a while later. Looking around they saw a small pile of empty nut shells and stripped cones on the ground under a tree. Looking up they could see a hole in the trunk. Kritt let her wicker basket slide to the ground and banged her staff against the tree. Nothing moved up there.
She began her climb. Vijla never was much of a tree climber and she stayed on the ground watching Kritt anxiously.
"Watch it. They can bite."
"Ah. Me can too."
"Me know. Sorry bugger."
"Shoo. Wish this honey tree."
"True. Ye close now."
"Just next to that branch, ah." Kritt pulled her self up on the branch. Her arms shook with the effort. Winter weakness. Grasping the branch with her knees and finding a hold with her free hand she stuck her staff into the the hole and poked around. An angry chitter sounded from within. She pulled out the staff. The squirrel hung from it, like a furry fish on a hook, the long teeth burried deeply in the wood. Kritt flung it and the staff away. She stuck an arm inside and fumbled around. The hole was deep, she could barely reach the buttom.
She found luck. Several handfulls of nuts and shrunken, sour apples. Vijlas eyes shone at the sight of the apples disappearing into Kritts bulging pockets.
"Looking for honey too?"
"Greedy, greedy. Sticky stuff do'na smell like honey."
"Urgh."
"Think take the acorns too?"
"Na. Leave 'at bugger some. Just get all the nuts."
"Me do, Me do. Hey!"
"What?"
"Found an extra chamber--" Kritt fumbled around. "Some house -- sir Squirrel got two bedrooms. Could get stuck in there. The opening is narrow."
"Careful! Me did na bring an axe."
"Me did. Small one. Uh."
"Be a long while chopping tree with that. Find anything?"
"Mostly pine cones. The slim ones. Think he likes them. Ouch!"
"What?"
"Funny nut. Big. Scraped me hand getting it out. What is this?"
"Me do'na know til a'show me."
"Uh. Coming down. Think me got what we can use."
Kritt climbed down, carefully, not wanting to upend her pockets.
"Look."
Vijla gingerly took the huge acorn from Kritts grimy hand. She stroked the shimmery velvety surface with a finger. "Me come to think of them elvish trees in them stories."
"Ah. Me too. Think it takes eating?"
"Ask ye mum."
Kritts mother Mayh was the witch of the village. Vijla sometimes seemed to think her an oracle. Kritt knew "witch" and "bitch" did not rhyme by coincidence.
"Where did sir Squirrel find it?" Kritt looked around seeing nothing but the same mix of well known trees they had wandered through since crossing The Borderstream. "Them elves forests are not really here but somewhere else, sort of. In another place, like the dead. That what mum say."
Vijla shivered and gave Kritt the acorn back. Kritt emptied her special pocket and put the acorn there, making sure the button was properly closed. They put the apples and nuts into their baskets and found Kritts staff. It bore fresh tooth marks, the squirrel was nowhere to be seen.
They continued east, keeping their eyes open, looking mostly for roots and small game. Especially fat squirrels. Finding no fat squirrels but yet another patch where sweet root had survived the winter. Their baskets were getting heavy.
Late in the afternoon they reached Whiteriver. A narrow, rushing river, not much broader than The Borderstream. Kritt climbed yet another tree, looking for the lake Mayh had told them about. She saw it a short distance to the North. They followed Whiteriver upstream, reaching the small lake as dark began to fall. The lake was just on the edge of the rocky area that, if one continued North for another moon or so, would change into the footthills of the Evermountains. They found the small cave just as Mayh had promised. In the last light Vijla gathered wood and got a small fire going while Kritt cut straw to soften their sleeping place.
They had mush of boiled apples and sweetroot to go with the bread. In Kritts opinion the apples made the world of a difference.
"Tomorrow we fish." Kritt poked the fire.
"Ah." Vijla yawned and hugged her legs, resting her chin on her knee. "Think it will be cold tonight?" Her dark brown hair was coming loose.
"Ah. Some."

Loping through tall grass, the wind rippled over his soft thick curly fur. Hopper ghosted through the meadow, his wide paws making almost no sound. A shadow of black with only the high sun to highlight the deep red that lies within as well. Golden eyes survey his surroundings. The day was perfect. The sky was bright and blue with only the sparse thin high clouds to break it up. Hundreds of butterflies danced atop the high grass, in a swirling mass of color. Birds of all kinds, sizes and colors filled the air with their songs. The perfect day, but then it is always perfect in the wolf dream. A dream like no other for it is always more that just a dream. It is a part of reality itself and yet only it's reflection in a way. One could do anything here in the wolf dream. Anything one could dream and more.

A deer, ever vigilant, raised it's head at his approach and bounded into the near by forest. His eyes followed it for only a moment. It smelled tasty but he is not hungry. Not hungry for that anyway. His pray lay elsewhere but he had always come here first. It is the wolf in him. He lifted his nose and tested the air. Not here. He must look elsewhere.

Fixing his mind he leapt and his surroundings change. He alit atop a great cliff. Far below him lay the sea, great and powerful as it crashed into the sides of the cliffs sending froth and spray high into the air to fall back into itself. Or to wet the rocks and the clinging vegetation that tried to survive in this harsh environment. Rearing high amongst the cliffs, a great fortress stood out strong and proud. It looked to be carved right out of the living rock itself. Windows could be seen including those in the high towers. But only one window appeared to give off any real semblance of light in the darkening sky. It was nearing night in this part of the wolf dream and the light called to him like a Seiren. A beacon to show him the way home. Even though it is not his home.

Leaping again he glided through the damp air. Oh how he dearly loved to fly. Upon almost reaching the fortress walls he again focused his mind and the air turned cloudy. The mist growing heavier as he approached until there is nothing but the clouds of white. He then ended his flight by merely stopping and began to walk. His continued his surroundings turned darker and darker. Then the world was black. He walked on until light showed beneath him and he peered down into a lit room. The same room though which he saw the light from the window. The light that meant life was present.

Now normally one could not enter the castle in this way, or any way except through the front door and even then the door was picky. For the castle had powerful wards protecting it and it's inhabitances form interlopers. But the wards never touch him. For he is always welcome here. All doors always open.

He peered down from his dark vantage point which appeared only about ten feet from the floor. The room was ablaze with candle light and mage light and from the roaring fire set in the large fire place along the side wall. The walls were covered with bright and picturesque tapestries and the floor was littered with thick plush rugs all of which looked extremely comfortable. The only pieces of furniture were a large oaken desk, covered with books and papers and writing equipment, a large two door wardrobe, and a wooded chest which laid at the end of a massive canopied bed.

None of which truly caught his eye for his vision was filled with a beauty that took away all thought. She. Sharon. His wolf mate. At the first sight of her he turned into his own human form without even realizing it. That of a not overly tall man with near black hair and a close cut reddish beard that covered only his mouth and chin. The only things that remained the same were his eyes. The golden eyes of a wolf. Those eyes grew wide and wanted nothing more that to drink her all in. She also was in her human form and what he saw turned his blood to fire with desire. Her long black hair was cascading loose down her back and framing her angelic face with her golden eyes, like his own. Her dress was odd to him. He had never before seen it's like. Her blouse, or at least what appeared to be her blouse, was tight and fit to her form so that the top of her bosom lay exposed. Her skirt was quite short and also very tight fitting, hugging her hips and bottom wonderfully. Her long legs were sheathed in the same material as her bust and upon her feet were the oddest slippers he had ever seen. They were made of some kind of leather and at the heals were what appeared to be some kind of stilts of around four inches in height. But no matter how odd they appeared in of themselves they, caused her legs and bottom to shape into the most wonderful of forms.

He was so enthralled in her that it was some time before he noticed that she was not alone. She was talking and sipping wine with a lovely young woman whose bright red hair hung in loose curls to her shoulders. She wore a loose simple dress of very light material that hugged a bit at her ample bosom and at her slim waist and settled about her calves. Her bright green eyes peered at his mate as they spoke and she swayed a bit in the most provocative way. It was as if she were searching for something in particular. He did not know what she was apparently looking for, but that look in her eyes had him on edge.

It was then that he noticed the look in his own mates eyes. That same look of coy apprehension and yet willingness. But hers had another cast as well. One he knew all too well. That of a hunter in sight of her pray and moving in for the kill. She had the same look when they first met. Now he knew what he was seeing and he grew even more excited because of it. His beautiful she mate was trying to seduce this lovely little redhead. And by the look of the girls increasingly accepting state, his mate would have her meal very soon.

They chatted amicably about their work and relationships and all the while Sharon peered at her she would idly dip her finger into her wine and then slowly run the moistened tip around the rim of the glass. She did this several times until the redhead took particular notice of it. The corner of Sharon's mouth quirked up just the slights bit and this time instead of rimming the glass she raised it to her mouth. With her pink tongue barely escaping her parted red lips, she tasted the wine soaked finger tip, then accepted it into her mouth. Sucking it clean with an ever so slight moan. The redheads eyes were glued to Sharon's finger and mouth. Their conversation had ceased and he could her that her breathing was growing rather laden. Sharon's nostrils flared ever so slightly and only a moment later his enhanced sense of smell caught the fragrance as well. The redhead was excited. Sharon spoke up and startled the girl a bit.

"Why don't we make ourselves more comfortable," and motioned to the thick carpeted and pillow laden floor in front of the fireplace.

As the redhead moved forward to where suggested Sharon took the girls glass and started to the desk to refill their drinks but lingered a moment to take in the sight of the young woman's bottom as she sauntered to the fireplace. She smiled broadly and wet her lips with her tongue.

After refreshing their drinks Sharon turned and saw what Hopper already had. The girl was now standing directly in front of the fireplace awaiting Sharon and her dress was nearly transparent from the bright fire light showing though from behind. She wore no undergarments at all. Again Sharon smiled, coyer this time, and went to her pray. She knelt down in front the redhead and patted the spot beside her. "Come now," she said with a smile. "Come sit and be more comfy." And as the girl did she started to lay down on her side and propped herself up on one elbow.

"So what should we talk about now," the redhead asked in a now somewhat husky voice.

Placing the glass of wine in her bottom hand, Sharon then reached out with her other and lightly stroked some stray red locks from the young woman's sweet face and said, "How about your beautiful hair?"

The redhead blushed slightly at this but did not pull away. So Sharon then moved her fingers over the girls cheek. "Or your supple skin."

The sun beat down on him as never before in this foreign land. Where were his dark violet trees with their ever running streams of cool fresh water? Not here. Here there was nothing but arid airs swirling the brittle sands about these ever rolling, ongoing hills. He paused, bringing his cloak about him tighter and trying to shield his sensitive blue eyes from these many small daggers. His lord had said to meet the humans in this place. He had said to bring them his message and yet he saw no one. Suddenly a dark deep voice reached him.

"Stranger, you are trespassing."

He turned about startled his black hair turning with him. A large man dressed in worn metal-armor carrying a dented shield but a sharp blade stood before him, his black eyes gazing directly at him, the rest of his features covered by heavy cloth.

"Sir," he said, "Are you Areth...if you are my lord sent me here..."

The man came closer bringing a horse he was leading into view. "Aye, I am he. Come with me for a storm begins...my lady awaits you."

Nodding he was hoisted into the saddle and soon an endless smear of sand blocked his view.

From out of nowhere, it seemed, brightly colored tents came into view. His guide took him directly to the large violet one in the middle of the rest where four guards, two on each side, were posted at the entrance. He was amazed at the size of these large bronze men, being small in stature himself, he couldn't help but feel slightly threatened by these enormous desert humans. He was then led into the tent where he met the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long flowing silver hair kissed slightly with blonde strands. Her emerald eyes glistened with youth but remained steady with the skill of a seasoned warrior. Light blue silk covered a small portion of her body leaving the rest of her surprisingly pale skin exposed. Then she spoke with a voice of honey, "Greetings elf, I have been expecting you."

"My lady," He kneeled before her afraid he might tremble if he remained standing. "My lord bid me to deliver this message and express his desire of this most eventful and important treaty of the desert humans and elven people."

With the graceful wave of her hand, she summoned a slave girl, in her early adulthood, to bring his letter forward. The girl bowed and took the letter but first gazed at him with a kind of hatred that shocked him. Here sat a beautiful woman and her slave girl, whose beauty also bears mentioning, though her's was a darker stronger beauty of tanned skin and dark features all around than her mistress's but whose demeanor seemed equally dark.

The lady took the letter and read it thoroughly for what seemed likely several minutes before she spoke. "I am afraid Jeslie has poor manors at times...shall I punish her?"

He stood up shaking his head slowly, "No my lady, do not punish your slave."

The lady gazed at him steadily, "You say slave as if it is a bitter taste elf."

He nodded, "Slavery is..." He paused realizing the delicate nature of this diplomatic meeting.

The woman only smiled, "It says here that you are the remaining son of a noble line..."

Solaris looked up sharply slightly shocked, why would the letter mention such a fact. "Yes my lady..."

She gazed at him calmly but with a look that made him slightly uneasy as she passed the letter to one of her guards. "Your name?"

"Solaris..." He cut off as he felt himself grabbed from behind, both his arms now pinned behind his back.

"My lady, I assure you that no deception is intended here." His voice began to tremble.

She laughed lightly, her melon sized breast bouncing in the process. "Worry not elf, the treaty will be fulfilled by both parties...your payment set the deal."

He searched her eyes quickly dread entering his heart and then denial. "No..."

Her eyes turned to her slave girl, "Shall I punish my new slave Jeslie."

Jeslie dark red lips slowly curled into a smile, "No my mistress...allow me."

The slave girl approached him casually and withdrew a knife slashing his robes in one quick motion and tearing them away from his body in a fury he could not understand.

He remained silent for what could he do?

Jeslie dropped her knife and began running her hands over his body so slowly it was almost torturous. Her hot mouth clamped onto one of his nipples and began to sucking followed by the biting and tearing with her teeth. He gasped surprised almost not hearing the lady's words. The pain and pleasure ignited his entire body in a wave of heat.

"Elf, you will make a fine addition as my slave after some fine tuning. You lord was very gracious indeed."

The girls lips traveled to the nipple and doubled her efforts causing him to gasp in heightened pain. He tried to arch away but those behind him would not budge.

He was speechless and for the time being at a lost. This betrayal had no warning...there had been no hints of...He breathed heavily looking down at the girl who was watching him steadily, a smile played on her lips. Her tongue traced lightly from his nipples and across his quivering abdomen to his hardening cock. She clamped down and not too gently on his organ creating a deep fear which quickly overtook him.

"Please..." Her teeth closed slightly, and he felt himself begin to sob.

"Enough!" The lady's harsh tone caused all heads in the room to look in her direction.

Jeslie backed away obviously angry.

The lady looked to him. "Kneel."

The guards let go, but he hesitated.

"Kneel!"

He dropped to his knees shivering although the desert provided no cold. A large hand clamped his shoulder and shoved him roughly forward to all fours. A taut muscular body pressed against him, it was Areth. Large meaty fingers probed his ass making him flinch and gasp. First one finger and then another. He tensed which caused pain to ripple through his entire body. Solaris looked to the lady his mouth slightly open in a silent plea, he noted an icy glaze in those eyes he had not noticed before, and his heart sank. Areth positioned himselfm and he felt the head enter and yelled in pain. And then the pounding began. Areth shoved his large shaft in him in brutal thrusts not heading his shouts of pain. The rock hard flesh was oiled but his small frame could not compensate at such a quick rate. His body trembled as the sweat drenched man continued to ride him in a manner he had only heard of. His voice was becoming hoarse and he prayed for it to end. He did not know when he stopped screaming, or when Jeslie had approached him again This time she was unclothed, and he remember her mouth finding his organ and caressing it with her sweet tongue, and having pure ecstasy overcome him. Somehow, Areth had reached such a depth that sent nothing but pleasure soaring through his body were pain was dominant before. He was breathless and kneeling when they pulled away. His body ached; he was afraid to speak, afraid to anger her, afraid of what he might say...even afraid to look.

"Solaris," The lady's voice beckoned him.

He did not, could not look at her.

"Solaris," He noted a harsher tone when she repeated his name.

Slowly he looked up, his eyes glistening slightly.

She merely smiled. "You have beautiful eyes."

Again, he was speechless.

She continued, "Clean him up....for my chambers."

He was taken to an oasis not far from the camp where he was bathed and drenched in the sweet smelling perfumes of the desert. He was then given dark green robes of silk and told to return to the tent...they left him alone at the oasis. At last, minutes to think, to really think. Solaris looked around him. Just beyond a hill he could make out the camp, the rest was desert..endless and similar in all directions. He could see why they left no guards on him, they didn't need any. He had no place go. Closing his eyes, he recalled the days earlier, how he had sought and found stories and information on these vast desert and shuddered when he recalled the descriptions of dehydration. Sighing he returned to camp, not knowing what else to do.

Inside his mistress' tent he found her there and alone. She lay there naked and smiling, sipping her blood red wine as his eyes looked over her oiled body. She said nothing but motioned him forward. Silently he obeyed and sat beside her, still not looking her in the eyes. Her gentle voice spoke, "How do you feel."

He wanted to yell at her, ask her how did she think he felt. Instead he merely replied, "Confused."

He felt her soft hand touch his back as she continued, sitting up and whispering in his ears. "Your lord had promised me one of his subjects in advanced payment, but I hardly expected such a fine specimen." Her mouth traveled down his neck as she maneuvered in front of him. He swallowed nervously, not trusting himself to say anything. She kissed him lightly, her tongue barely touching his as her hands removed his robes easily, no doubt the clothing was made with that purpose in mind. Her fingers light circled his nipples as she spoke on. "Tell me of yourself."

He shook his head slightly. "I can not"

"Why?" Her voice had not heatened with his refusal.

"Because..."He looked at her trying to hide his rising excitement. Trying rid himself of his attraction. "What you did to...what you allowed..." He could not finish.

She laughed lightly, "Do you tell me you did not enjoy it?"

His eyes searched hesr as he remained silent. They betrayed him for she continued to laugh, "I thought so." Her hot mouth replaced her fingers drawing a deep moan from him. Her tongue flickered skillfully over the hardened nipples sending a sweet shudder throughout his entire body. Her hands found his organ and slowly, easily brought it to erection. With one quick fluid motion he brought her under him and gazed into her eyes yet again. He hated her for his predicament, hated her for mocking him, shaming him...hurting him yet now he could not hurt her...now he felt nothing but passion. He eased into her as he covered her breasts with his mouth and hands. She gasped in pleasure as he pushed in and out, quickening his pace with each deep thrust. Her legs wrapped around his waist urging him on. Her hips moved up to meet his thrusts making them both moan and groan in heightened ecstasy. He plunged one last hard time into her bringing her over the top and spilling his seed deep into her beautiful youthful body.

After several minutes she eased him off her, resting her head on his hairless chest. "Tomorrow I shall introduce you to my brother and perhaps my sister..." She laughed lightly, "They will be pleased."

**5 days ago Back in Elven Homelands...

Eveyln listened carefully to the conversation she walked in on. Her long blonde hair swished about lightly with the evenings breeze as her deep blue eyes blazed. She concealed herself carefully behind the tapestry despite her rising anger. They had sold him! She had never heard of such a thing in elven lands. Not only was it illegal it was also immoral. Solaris, love...they had sent him to the desert, no doubt, for some desert whore or worse. With the king gone, the prince believed he could do anything he wished. Eveyln growled quietly. She had no taste for the prince nor the deserts, but she would have to face both, the latter first. With that she headed to her home, to gather supplies and weapons...she would need them where she was going.

The three of them had her surrounded, trapped before the big sequoia trunk.

"Nush-ee, nush-ee." The large one seemed to be speaking, its hairy right arm extended as if pointing to her.

"Nush-ee," the dark tan one repeated as it stealthily approached the cringing young woman. As sweat trickled under her shorts into her crotch, Beth felt the rough tree bark through her thin white cotton blouse.

The smallest one was screeching, but remained several yards away, wary of the slim white female with the strange body coverings.

The big one rushed her and grasped both her arms in a vice-like grip. It pulled her to its shaggy bosom in a fierce embrace, her face pressed into a filthy mat of fetid fur.

"Oh, shit," Beth murmured, as her glasses fell off, rendering her surroundings a hazy fuzz.

From behind, she felt paws - or were they hands - grasping her hips below where her blouse had pulled out from her sweat-soaked tan khaki shorts. Finger-like nails (claws?) raked her bare skin as the two beasts tugged at her perspiring, pinioned body.

"Nush-ee, nush-ee," the light-haired one cried again, pulling on Beth, even as the large one tugged Beth forward, her nostrils mashed into the stifling stench of its muscled chest. She felt herself losing ... losing ... losing ...

... she regained consciousness draped high over the giant's broad shoulder, her body secured by a mitten of fur firm upon her khaki-covered bottom. The two companions strode closely behind, the tan one furtively pawing at Beth's back and sides as she was trundled of to ... God only knew.

As her body jostled athwart the giant's shoulder, Beth recalled events leading up to this ... predicament...

... a shortcut, that's what she'd hoped to gain when she left Salmon for Warm Lake. The Idaho towns were 85 miles apart as the crow flys, but the Route 75 - Dogwood Road drive, more than 145 miles - always seemed to take forever. So, against her cousin Bobbi's advice, Beth had aimed her Blazer at the National Forest east-west Middle Trail, having noted its twists and turns on her map.

"Don't do it Beth," Bobbi had warned. "It's already 2 o'clock and you'll have a hard time making it before dusk."

"Hey, Bobbi," she'd replied, "I know this is your territory, but I can follow a map, and I say I can do it in less than two hours. Don't worry. I'll phone you when I reach Warm Lake," she assured her favorite cousin, and she departed for her sister's place, west, near the Salmon River.

But she misread the map after all, and lost control of the Blazer on a downhill, left the dirt road, sideswiped a small pine and crashed into a fallen log. She managed to restart the vehicle, but it stalled going up the slope and she wasn't able to get the motor to turn over again. She was hiking to what the map showed was an exit trail when `they' emerged from a thicket.

A jogger, trim and fit, Beth ran up the trail and through the brush, dodging tree trunks for about a quarter mile before the big one cut her off and, terrified, she found herself surrounded by the three of them, although the smallest kept its distance.

"Sasquatch! But no," Beth thought, "that's Vancouver - up north! There's no Bigfoot here!"

But what else could they be? They fit the descriptions she'd heard from friends back in Seattle and the literature also seemed to confirm them as sasquatch, American apes. s. The biggest one was at least seven and-a-half feet tall, maybe 450 pounds. It bore the general mass of an ape, with thick, brown, matted hair, but it had an amazingly human- like face, not the Neanderthalish low brow and sloping forehead that "sighters" reported. No, these creatures had rather smooth tan faces framed by short dark or light brown hair, with dark eyes and eyelashes, and defined chins and cheekbones. And their brows, mouths, lips and teeth seemed capable of expressing - and articulating - a range of human- like emotions. (Were they using language?)

... she was carried, like a duffel bag, for what seemed like miles, deep into the forest. The sun got dimmer as they moved into dense foliage. Beth's temples ached as the blood pounded in her drooping head, the creature's arm bearing her 110 pounds as easily as a small child.

On down an incline they trudged, through poplar, oak and sequoia. The tree trunks were now larger as they moved into ancient woods.

Suddenly, the tan creature with the drooping teats - which Beth presumed was a jealous mate - grasped the waistband of her shorts and pulled, ripping the seam and baring Beth's pale blue-panties.

"Oh!" Beth shrieked, as the cool late afternoon breeze lightly kissed her sweaty bare back and her brief underpants wedged in her damp anal cleft.

Before the she-creature could continue her assault, Beth's carrier whirled and dropped the female with a left- armed blow to the side of her head. Stunned, the she- creature slowly rose and trudged off into the brush.

Beth was carried onward into the darkening forest. She sensed the female and the little one were following nearby, as branches cracked and leaves crackled. Draped over the big man-ape, about all she saw were unfocused views of the leafy ground and blurry tree trunks as she bobbed across the big creature's furry shoulder.

As small branches and vines brushed and scraped her face and shoulders, Beth hoped to awaken from a dream. Here she was, a 25-year-old single woman with a master's in history, employed two years by the Snohomish County Board of Education, looking forward to a whole two weeks of adventure and fun visiting relatives in the "country." And, well it was just impossible that she was now being kidnapped by Bigfoot! Right? (Right)

As darkness descended, they reached a large rock ledge, an overhang, topped by small trees, drooping vines and brush and sequestered amid many giant pines and firs. The big sasquatch carried Beth into the cave, followed by his two "family" members. The entrance to the shelter was about 10 feet high, leading back into a chamber that narrowed to a height of about seven feet, causing the big male to stoop low with his human cargo.

He deposited Beth upon a straw-covered rock floor. Then, inexplicably, the creature ambled back toward the entrance and departed the cave. The daylight had vanished, but, surprisingly, on the stone floor halfway back into the cave a small flame burned inside what appeared to be a crude clay lamp. A full moon also afforded additional light, for which a near-sighted girl could be thankful.

Feeling some relief, but apprehensive about the female's presence, Beth rolled onto her side and eased her weary head onto the long tufts of dried grass. Her temples still ached and she was thirsty. And exhausted.

Seizing the opportunity to punish the object of her mate's attention, the female sasquatch slinked silently on all fours up to Beth, where the creature sniffed Beth's armpit and crotch. Heart racing, Beth began to rise, to run for it, when the female grabbed Beth's short brown hair in one stubby hand and grasped her blouse lapel with the other.

"Ri-i-i-p-p" tore the buttons of the light blouse in the she-creature's grasp, baring Beth's Olga Elegant Twist bra- covered breasts and midriff.

Beth screamed at this fresh assault, as her flimsy bra cups were violently torn from her small, heaving breasts. Her pink nipples quivering upon her jiggling breasts, Beth cowered as the ape-woman pursued her, grabbing and twisting Beth's exposed right tit and seizing the shreds of her ripped shorts. The khakis easily came away from Beth's heaving belly, and the frenzied female pulled the tattered cloth down and off Beth's slim thrashing thighs and calfs, leaving her clad only in her brief pale blue panties, sweat socks and low cut hiking shoes.

Beth briefly broke the female's grip and began running for the cave entrance, but the quick sasquatch snagged her her waistband and pulled it down, baring Beth's firm milky white buttocks. Then Beth tripped over her panties as they were wrenched down to her knees. Off her ankles Beth's panties were stripped, exposing her virginal peach-soft pudenda to the excited she-ape's gaze. Beth felt an involuntary release of warm urine trickle down her thigh.

The female creature, perspiring and exuding a nauseating fecal odor, pounced on Beth, knocking the terrified young woman backward onto the cave floor. As Beth's legs spread in a reflexive effort to brace her fall, the female Bigfoot dove face-first onto Beth, thrusting drooling lips upon Beth's bared wet pussy and inserting a salivating tongue between Beth's moist labia.

"Agh-gh-ee-ee!," Beth screamed, as her pink vaginal lips were pried apart by the she-creature's strong grimy hands. As the sub-human's hot, dripping tongue entered her, Beth tried to roll onto her belly to escape the onslaught. But the she-ape, in a sexual frenzy, pinned Beth on her stomach and, enraged, brutally clawed, squeezed and kneaded Beth's bared, quivering buttocks. As Beth wriggled under the 300- pound beast, the creature parted Beth's hairless cheeks and drove a rigid finger into the slim woman's exposed anus.

"Ye-ow!"