Orichalcum The Ring Ch 01

☆ Note - this will probably end up dark. There will quite possibly be images of extreme sex, questionable consent, outright non-consent, slavery, humiliation and objectification. There will be verbal degradation and abuse. There is going to be homosexuality and acts of dominance.

I know all this. No need to comment. Free speech.

All characters are over 18.

If you are considering trying to find a magic ring and do any of this for real - just stop - get help - talk to a professional.

This is a complete and utter fantasy that will never, ever happen - it's the same as elves, dwarves, and faithful wives.

NOT REAL.

You've been warned.

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I remember how excited I was the day I returned home from school and I heard my mother call out, "Hey! Congratulations! You got accepted to the summer intern program!"

"YES!" I shouted, "Thanks, Mom!"

"Don't thank me. You're the one with all the good grades. And you DID have to write that essay. I guess they liked it."

As she handed me a big envelope stuffed thick with materials I said, "I guess so."

The program I had been accepted into was for the summer before students started their college studies. You had to be 18 to apply and write an essay. It was basically an all expenses paid trip to an archeological dig site to do grunt work and try to learn whatever you could from the archeologists and older students before you had to start college.

My parents were a little worried about where I would be sent. Probably to some dangerous jungle filled with head shrinking natives, man eating tigers, and college liberals.

I thought it sounded like heaven.

After a childhood full of camping, hunting, fishing, and working cattle, I was more than ready for a vacation. Being a 6 foot tall, 200 pound football player and working every day on my parents ranch, I considered myself more mature than other guys my age. I was certainly in better shape and not because I particularly worked at it. Growing up on a West Texas ranch it seemed like there were always more chores to do.

So there it was. My summer adventure all laid out. Itineraries and tickets to the wildest part of outer.....Nova Scotia?!

"Man, what the fuck?" I said under my breath as I looked through the paperwork. I mean, yeah, Nova Scotia wasn't West Texas, but it wasnt Turkey, Bali, Bora Bora, or Rio de Janeiro either.

Sigh.

Great. I went through all the trouble to get a passport to go to..... Canada.

"What's wrong baby?" my mother said as she leaned over my shoulder.

"It's only Canada," I replied.

"They got girls in Canada just like everywhere else," my father piped in from the living room. He thought I was silly to go traipsing off anywhere when there were girls all over Texas just waiting to meet his boy. Yeah. If only.

I didn't have any more or less trouble with dates than any other guy. I had lots of dates. And I was raised to be a gentleman - we'd say I was "raised right".

But the problem, in my dusty little corner of heaven, was....so were the girls.

And they all knew how to rub themselves off on my leg before telling me to take them home. So like a gentleman, I would. And lay awake half the night wishing I was one of those "heathens" my mom was always telling me not to be, so that I wouldn't feel bad if I took them further than they wanted to go. But I wouldn't; even if I was a heathen. Maybe. I'm lying...if I didn't know what my parents and teachers and the preacher would say I'd definitely be fucking some girl 3 times a day. Damned societal behavior norms!!

What I should have done was spend the extra gas money and drive up to Pampa. Everyone knows that town was chock full of loose women and whores.

Mom ran her fingers through my dark hair and pulled me into her chest. As I was sitting down at the kitchen table at the time, this was very pleasant. Mom was stacked. She pressed full C cups into my head and upper back. The rest of her was long and lean and tan, with barrel racer hips and damn she filled those wranglers. Probably why my father grabbed her up at the sale barn one day and made a woman out of her.

Of course, he didn't know that God and her parents considered her too unmarried to just knot up with any old saddle tramp, but Grandpa's shotgun said it was love at first sight shortly after he found mom in dad's old Ford. Tits out and and shoved through the sliding back glass for all the world to see. Dad was busy falling into mom from the waist down in the back seat. I mean "falling into love with".

Turned out OK for them though.

Mom became a woman, Dad got to marry a fox and they both had me.

That little adventure package even came with a name.

"Ford, you'll have fun. Just you wait. When them yankee girls see my boy they'll be crazy with lust and just swoon!!" my mom teased, while she laughed and pulled the side of my face tighter into her tits, rocking back and forth. Definitely not helping any situation I was in. I'm not a pervert. I don't have a deep-seated desire to screw my mother. But.

Mom was a MILF. Everyone in town knew it except for Mom. She never, to my knowledge, even considered using her looks for advantage. She was a cowgirl. Smart, kind, respectful and proper when required, but rough as a cob around the boys.

Still, at 18, tits in your face is going to get you revved up, even if it's your mom.

Pulling away to the sound of their laughter I said, "I just wanted someplace a little more wild than the rocky shores of outer Canada."

By the day they drove me to Amarillo to catch the plane, I had accepted that it was what it was and I'd make the best of it. Mom and Dad were both quizzing me on if I packed everything and worried about me having enough money. Dad reminded me stop by a department store after I cleared customs and buy myself a good belt knife.

"Whatever is he gonna need a knife for in Canada?" Mom asked him.

"Why, to cut through all those college girl's bra straps!" Dad announced to the world out his open driver's side window.

Yep. They're a hoot. Still from his lips to God's ears if I was lucky. There had definitely been a drought in ky love life the past couple of months.

As Mom hugged me goodbye, she whispered, "Maybe buy some condoms too, baby. I'm too young to be a grandma, aint even 35".

So...yeah. the flight was great. Customs was a pain. Those yankee bureaucrats took one look at my cowboy hat and thought to themselves, "Better strip him naked".

Just dumped out my duffle and unrolled everything while asking me about a hundred stupid questions. Unrolled my bedroll too. Fingered inside my hat. They really hassled me about my tobacco. What a mess. By the end, I was covinced that I would never spend another penny in Canada after this trip. It's like begging to get into a prison.

Anyway, after that shit show, I got a cab and found a store called Stokes where it turns out I could legally buy a couple of perfectly serviceable knives to fit the sheaths already sewn inside my boot and on the back of my belt.

Pick the bones out of that Canada!

The little blonde girly boy there even helped me pick out the perfect ones for me. Kept telling me he liked my hat. Asked if I wanted him to show me Halifax. LOL. Okay, I mean he weren't ugly, and I'm not homophobic, but I wasnt THAT far away from home. I left thinking that if he had a twin sister I would give her a twirl.

Besides, I had to get to the hotel and then to some restaurant call Los Toros Authentic Spanish.

Turns out that ain't Tex-Mex - but it wasn't bad.

Oh well, It was food and it was free.

The program had a welcome dinner - lucky me. Made a big deal out of it but there wasn't but three of us summer students. Two girls and me. Each of us were assigned a graduate student to "shadow".

I would soon find out that meant "be a slave to".

But honestly, my graduate student turned out to be a knockout. Physically and mentally. She was a genius. That was evident within the first few minutes of our conversation.

Honestly, as the meal wore on it became more and more clear that Beatriz, a tanned, natural blonde beauty originally from Madrid, was absolutely the smartest person in the restaurant. Possibly the city. She was the leading grad student and our dig boss, Professor Carter, leaned on her heavily to move things along.

Beatriz spoke English softly but clearly with a Castillian lisp that had me hanging onto every word. No rings, no bracelets, no necklace and no earrings. Seriously, jewelry would have drawn your eye away from those full red lips and that would be a crime. They were perfect. She was lean, with B cup tits that I swear I think actually called out to my soul.

Hey, I was 18. It was a heady time.

I did notice that her eyebrow arched deliciously when I spoke to her in Spanish. I'm sure I sounded like a Charro to her educated ears but hey, we could understand each other.

The other two students and their sponsors were a mix of nerd, geek, librarian and stoner. Nice folks and I'm sure they were smart but just not my cup of tea.

Of course, at the end of the meal Beatriz leaned forward, looked me in the eye and said "Come Cowboy, we are going to get a drink."

I thought about it being late and me being tired and...I'm lying...it was pure luck I didn't knock over my chair and the neighboring table trying to stand up, get to my money and say "Yes, Ma'am!" all at the same time. I made it look all suave and cool though. That's how I remember it anyway. Hush! You weren't there.

As we exited the restaurant, I was a step behind the Spanish goddess that I would be shadowing for months. Intentionally.

I managed to find my way even though my eyes never left the toned ass of that woman for an instant.

Totally surprised to find myself outside, I just followed her as we walked down the Halifax street. Her low cut jeans hungvon her flared hips and I was salivating over the dimples I could see at the top of her ass. Her glorious, perfect ass. Damn. That was perfection. I was breathlessly falling in love. Seriously.

Eventually, we found ourselves outside a bar. A pub actually. The Split Crow.

Irish folk tunes spilled out onto the street as we entered and I looked around a large seating area. Looked like the perfect place to me. As long as Beatriz was comfortable so was I.

I followed her to the side of the raised stage which held a spirited group of musicians and we sat at a table were I was introduced to a cute 50 something blonde with a tight, tan body. Dr. Judy Carter was a little hottie despite her mature age. Hair cut short over her ears and intelligent blue eyes were the icing on top of a flat stomach and full B cup tits in a tight top. She smelled like baby oil. Damn.

"Fresh meat Beatriz?" said Dr Carter - who had immediately told me to "call me Judy, dear".

"Stop Judy!!" Beatriz said with a small smile "You are teasing him and that's not nice."

"Sorry young man, Beatriz likes girls just as much as you do. Best to have that out of the way up front. It will let us work better together while you're with us." Dr. Judy said.

Well. Not gonna lie. I was crushed. But I think that I managed to keep it off my face.

"Oh well," I lied, "I certainly had no expectations, ma'am."

Both women settled and nodded at my statement as I leaned forward and poured myself a beer from the pitcher on the table.

"But let a boy dream," I said with a wistful sigh, as I sat back and took a drink of the cold brew.

Both women laughed out loud as my joke and compliment hit them.

Good. I'd already figured out that women, no matter who they kiss, love a good laugh. At the very least, I can make a good impression on two intelligent and talented people that might help me later in life.

Yay for networking!! Boo for my shitty luck in love! I really was crushed. Until I started thinking about the two of them together, on their knees....sigh. Crushed.

It was a great pub and a fun night out. But morning came too early. At least the coffee in Halifax was was good and strong.

After a long drive in a cramped little van, I grabbed my duffle and bedroll and followed Beatriz, Dr. Judy and the rest of the folks to a barn. Yup. A Barn.

Borrowed from the land owner of the dig site and relatively weatherproof I was actually disappointed. I wanted adventure and I got a roof and a cot and a line of porta potties. Solar power. A hot meal catered in every day for supper. We even had a big tabke and chairs. Ugh. Pretty much the way my first 18 years had been. Boring!! I went through customs to sleep in a barn. Could've done that at home.

So the dig began in the morning and my schedule became up before dawn, cold breakfast, shovel and tote and shovel and tote, then lunch, which was basically sandwiches and coffee. Then more dig and carry and laugh at all the office creatures wilt and complain. It wasn't even hot (at least not to this Texas boy) and the pace was slow. Wimps.

The only saving grace was that Beatriz and Dr. Judy would get warm. Then take off clothing. So the scenery was nice.

Then it happened. I was taking a wheelbarrow full of rubble and dirt back to a couple of folks working the screens for finds when Dr. Judy took a step back without looking. Her cute ass bumped me causing me to stumble and the muddy ground took care of the rest.

Down I fell, probably only five feet but it knocked the wind out of me and pissed me off. I landed on my back and as my hands were grasping trying to get some purchase in the semi slick clay my right hand gripped something round and hard. At the moment I realized this - everything exploded into swirling colors and I passed out.

When I awoke, there were sirens and an angel hoveringover me. No, it was Beatriz. Looking worried. And beautiful.

"Don't move cowboy. It will be OK," she said.

"I'm fine, I'm just embarrassed. I'll be up in a minute, darlin'. Just let me take one last look at yer pretty face and I'll get back to work," I said with a flirty smirk and my best redneck accent.

"No, you will not. You will be still," Looking at her face I could tell she weren't joking. Sexy little lesbian. Sigh. I really wanted to kiss that girl.

I started taking stock of my body like I had after every time I ever fell off a horse, or a ladder, or a barn roof, or a hay truck. I fell a lot as a kid. Comes with the territory. Toes, ankles, knees, working and pain free. Hips felt good as best as I could tell. I decided to try my hands then work upwards when I felt it again. Right hand. Hard, round, warm, too warm, heavy. By weight I'd guess it was some kind of brass fitting. I kinda eased my eyes down to see what it was as Beatriz looked up hollering something in half French and half English all wrapped up in a sexy, lispy Spanish accent. Figuring I was about to be tackled by hairy Canadian EMS dudes, I shoved whatever it was in my front pocket for inspection later.

Sure enough, here they came, leaping into the dig ditch like they were assaulting the German trenches. I was half scared I was gonna get stomped on as it suddenly seemed like everyone from two counties had done come visiting all at once.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Yes. Ford. Where's my hat?"

"We need to cut this shirt."

"Or you COULD just unsnap it and cut the t-shirt. Where's my hat?"

"We are going to put a collar around your neck and get you on a backboard. There's nothing to worry about."

"If you fellers stomp on my Stetson, we're a gonna have business."

Beatriz leaned in then and waving my Stetson above my face before putting on her head like a tiara said with a smirk, "Get better. Maybe I'll give it back to you, Cowboy."

Well, talk about mixed signals. I was fine. My throbbing cock was telling me, "You're good son, go get that hat!"

Seriously, I would have married her on the spot. I was definitely in love. The sappy kind that never works out for the guy but entertains the girl and all her friends for a few weeks.

Of course, no one listened to me (or my cock) and they carried me a good long way to "L'hopital". That's how the one fella said it. Huh. I really wasnt interested in sightseeing. All I wanted to see was Beatriz in nothing but my hat holding a cold Dos Equis and turning down the covers on a king size bed.

My priorities were ignored...in several languages.

After all kinds of tests and manipulations, I was stripped, wiped down with some kind of wet wipes and tucked into a room for the night so they could observe me. No cell phone. It was in my shirt pocket, wherever that was. Didn't know anyone. Bet Mom was gonna be worried about the money this was going to cost. I was going to have to sell some cows.

Finally, about what I would guess was 8 or 9 PM, a nice looking black nurse came in looking at my chart and immediately said "Where do you hurt?"

"Nowhere. I'm tough. " I replied.

"I'll have no trouble out of you tonight, Mister." she said in an smiling Island accent.

"No ma'am. I would never cause a beautiful woman any bit of trouble!".

See - raised right.

"Ha!! Me know your kind Mister! Be good and you'll get ice cream later."

I really don't know why I said it. She was a grown woman. Well, maybe because she was a curvy sexy caramel skinned grown woman with thick thighs, a tight waist and nice D cup tits.

"What if I was bad?"

She laughed at my flirting and narrowing her eyes said, "You'll find out right quick, Mister." She turned and walked out. I watched her hips and ass all the way. Hmmm, I could pass a good time inside that!

Ah well, a boy can dream.

There wasn't anything wrong with me except for a deep need to get into something tight and wet. So all systems normal. Actually, I seemed a bit more pent up than normal.

Later, as I was laying awake in the dark, I saw the door open and my dark skinned nurse slipped inside my room with a large plastic sack.

"Mister? Are you awake?" she said quietly.

"Oh yes, Nurse. I can't sleep because of the dreams."

Turning on the light quickly, she moved over to me. Laying one hand on my forehead and looking into my eyes she said worriedly "What dreams, Mister?"

"The dreams of you. Coming to me late at night. Looking deep into my eyes. Bringing me ice cream," I said with a half grin.

"Argh! You're a bad man!"

"Well. I never got my ice cream," I protested while pretending to pout.

She just clucked her tongue and laid the sack heavily between my legs making me scoot up to try to protect my...self.

"Doctor man gonna kick you out wit de morning. Here are your tings."

"Because I'm healthy?"

"Because you're trouble, Mister." she smiled.

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

I went on to ask the sexy dark skinned nurse what time it was and finding that it was not yet 2AM, I asked if I could take a shower and get dressed,wanting to leave as early as I could and get back to the dig. She said that she could help me shower in about an hour and I was to just sit tight until then.

I only wondered how awkward THAT process was going to be for about 5 minutes after she left before I decided to get up and lay out my clothes to see what I had left to work with. Boots, socks, jeans and belt. Ahhh, snus!! Thank god! I thought as I slipped a pouch into my upper lip. Not Pure Rodeo, I know, but a whole lot healthier than Copenhagen and easier to hide from the city raised teachers that had been infecting my high school the last couple of years.

No t-shirt, but my Wrangler pearl snap had survived Mr. Scissors the EMT. Checking for my wallet and knives I found them all right where I left them.

I also found IT.

It wasn't a brass fitting.

After cleaning the mud off of it in the sink in the bathroom and drying it on my hospital gown I discovered it was a heavy gold or gold colored metal ring. Thick and about an inch long with carving that looked strange. I'd guess a Celtic or Norse design but it was definitely in an old style. I must have dug it out of the muddy clay on accident after I fell. Huh.