To plant the future

Cara Thereon's kitten sipping milk from her finger

Previous: River’s Deep

“Just let me sleep.” Hari batted at the hand that touched her face, her words slurred.

“You must serve me first.”

That grating voice drew her from sleep with a jolt. She snapped her eyes open and her vision clashed with a flat black gaze.

Glancing around, she realized she was in a grotto. Water rushed somewhere in the distance, but where she was held only a small standing pool at one side.

He’d placed her on a pallet of blankets on a raised platform, a light throw over her naked body. It was shockingly warm and she felt sweat dotting her forehead. Sitting up, she put her back against the wall so she felt safer.

Hari examined him closely, his black irises slitting then opening up and turning a light yellow color. She could see the closely coupled scales on his face, shimmering in the light. They were less black and more iridescent when he moved. His nose was very thin, coming to a sharp line down the bridge and a point at the tip.

What she could see of his body was sleek. The same iridescent black scales running down his muscles torso then changing at his waist. The scales looked rougher, the muscles of his legs thicker. He looked like he could cut through water with ease.

Without thought, she moved down to the darker space between his thighs. The bulge she remembered from earlier missing. Did he tuck it away? Does it swell as he is aroused, splitting the skin, and revealing his cock. She squirmed just a little in her bed.

She wanted to reach out and touch him suddenly, more curious than afraid.

“Have you looked your fill?”

Her eyes snapped back up to his. His expression was still flat, but she swore she heard humor in his voice.

“Who are you?”

He moved closer, his scales shimmering as he moved.

“You know who I am.”

His voice was like smoke, swirling around her and tickling along her nerves. Hari felt her body perk up.

“I am the god of the river deep. You know me even though you have ignored my voice in the past. You know me, remember me.”

There was no fear when he reached out and placed soft fingertips on her forehead. It triggered her memories.

His voice was so familiar to her, comforting like an old friend. In childhood, her mother would send her to gather herbs and plants, her affinity for healing encouraged. She’d always find herself near the river’s edge, attracted by the burble of the water.

Once, on the hottest day of the year, she dipped her feet into the water to cool off. The tickle of the pond weeds on her toes had delighted her. He had appeared nearby, looking unbelievably beautiful to her young eyes.

He reached for her then, touching her face with soft, wet fingers. Hari hadn’t been afraid of him then just as she wasn’t afraid of him now. There was a connection formed from that touch, she felt it like a soft brush along her mind. Like pond weed tickling her toes.

“Have you come to me so soon?” His voice has moved like the soft trickle of water over stones.

His words never made sense to her.

“To play?” She’d asked innocently then.

“To stay.” He replied.

“Oh no, I must return to my mother, but I’ll return to play again.”

She’d made the mistake of telling her mother who refused to let her go to the river alone after that. It was her biggest regret for a long time until she forgot about the scaled man from the river.

He never left her though.

Hari remembered him from her dreams, he’d been a constant presence in her night time slumber from the moment she’d reached puberty.

Those dreams were nothing like the innocent meeting by the river’s edge.

No, her dreams were filled with her under the water, the tangle of pond weeds binding her limbs so that she couldn’t escape him. Hari never wanted to escape. She welcomed his touch when he come to her in the murky water. He ushered her into womanhood, awakened her desire for sex in a way no boy from the village ever could satisfy.

Every night, the dreams grew dirtier and his touch rougher. She’d wake covered in what she thought was sweat. There was always a fierce aching between her thighs and abrasions on her breasts and hips. The sticky wetness that she couldn’t satisfy always overwhelmed her.

When her concentration suffered, she went to the local healer who suppressed the dreams. They became murky like the river’s deep in her mind after that. Memories and faint dreams.

That had been years ago and she hadn’t thought much of it. Until Patrea’s centennial sacrifice.

Was that the source of her fear earlier? The memories she couldn’t access cake rushing back and with it the buried lust he’d kindled in her.

She gasped when he broke contact.

“Fre.”

All the reverence she’d always felt bubbled to the surface. She wanted to slide to her knees before him.

Follow your instincts, Hari.”

The whisper of his voice through her mind moved her like a gentle breeze. Hari moved from the bed and sank to her knees before him. The rock felt warm and smooth, cradling her as she rested her forehead on the ground.

She felt him around her, against her. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his approval alone made her ache.

“You have come back.”

“Yes…” she wanted to address him properly, but wasn’t sure what to call him.

“I am your master and you may address me as such.”

How was it possible for a voice to affect her so much? Her cunt spasmed, growing plumper the longer she knelt there. She wanted to reach back and touch herself, but knew innately that doing so would earn his disapproval. Her body was his to touch when he was ready.

Good.”

There was the soft whisper of his voice again. She wanted to purr at his approval of her obedience.

“On to your knees, my beauty.”

Her cheeks flushed at his comment. Lifting up, she rearranged her body until she was kneeling to face him. It gave him the ability to inspect her then. Without thought, Hari thrust out her breasts and lifted her chin.

She noticed the bulge between his thighs had grown. There was a slit that had formed in the darker, rougher scales there, allowing a cock to emerge. The appendage grew, thickening and lengthening into it rested full along his thigh. It pulsed, a dark purple beat that expressed his desire. His face remained as flat as before, but there was no hiding what he wanted.

“I have watched you and waited for you for too many years.” He drew in a breath, another sign of his need. “Waited to have what belonged to me.”

“Why?”

She whispered the word, curious to know but afraid of the answer. What about her drew him?

“You do not fear me. From the first moment you saw me, it was curiosity and awe, but never fear. Few can look me in the eye.”

Safe is all she felt around him. The lack of desire for any other man made sense as she knelt before him. No one else would compare.

His face was fierce. Standing above her, he gripped her chin so he could look deep in her eyes.

“You are mine, Hari. I claim you as such, to worship and be worshipped by you. To plant the future in your womb, and bear fruit. Do you understand what I require of you?”

“Everything, Master. You want everything.”

Masturbation Monday written on a purple background

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  1. Posy Churchgate

    Very sexy! your use of past happenings and dreams combined with deep seated urges and her understanding of her place as his submissive scorches through the text. I love how diverse your story topics and style can be – a rare talent.

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