Part The Third To The Furnace

Author's Note - This story is basically one continuous narrative in three parts. The sex scenes are different in tone, reflecting the stages of the protagonist's journey. The first part is heavy on story and light on sex, and the third part is heavy on sex and light on story.

Tags for Chapter 1: Female/demon, Female dominant, handjob, cunnilingus.

Tags for Chapter 2: Female/Female, Female dominant, makeout, tribbing.

Tags for Chapter 3: Male/Female, Male Dominant, reluctant?

NARRATOR:

The Protectorate is near the end of the current Age. The Flame of Masculinity is dying out. Protector Potentate Gabriel (father of twins, Gabriel and Gabrielle) - the most powerful and sexually potent man in the land due to his proximity to the Flame - is aging and decrepit. Gabriel has withdrawn to the Citadel of the Eternal Flame and has not been seen for years. His Silver Knights no longer attempt to maintain order outside Royal properties. Bereft of the Masculinity spread by the Flame, the men of the land are devolving into empty, shrunken caricatures of themselves. The Hysterical Curse, once merely a legend, has been seen on a number of women. Those who bear the Curse use the femininity it brings to perform the duties once the province of men - commerce, warfare, even government. When found by the women keeping a marginal society going, women with the Curse mark are often sent to the Asylum of Sisterhood, to be safely caged away until they die.

FURNACE OF THE ETERNAL FLAME

Having climbed the massive stone causeway through the permanent ground fog, Probity stood before the main gates of the Citadel. Each massive door was easily ten feet wide, four times her height or more, and solid enough to hold back an army. But as she approached, they smoothly opened on silent hinges, swinging inward. A pale, wan light, similar to sunlight but whiter, shone through.

Probity had followed a rapidly decaying road from the Capital just a few short leagues away. The stones had clearly been perfectly set and aligned when it was in good repair. But that was decades in the past. The land's infrastructure was fading as fast as the Flame.

The Curse mark on Probity's breast was like a magnet being pulled toward the Citadel. It was practically trying to escape from inside her jerkin. The end of her quest was at hand.

As sharply as the causeway had climbed, once through the gateway it descended just as sharply. There were no alternate paths, no ring roads. The only way in led directly to the heart of the Citadel. Probity slowly realized that the Citadel was no working fortress, no base for armies, no home for ordinary citizens. The entire purpose of the Citadel was to house the Furnace of the Eternal Flame.

Where the path leveled out, there was what should have been an inner barbican, but on closer inspection, if there ever had been defensive works in the gateway, there had not been any such thing for years upon years. Even the stones of the gateway itself were uneven and in disrepair.

As she crossed the threshold, Probity saw why. The glorious structure of the Furnace, the crown jewel at the center of the Citadel and thus the heart of the Protectorate itself, was falling apart. The only illumination - the pale, white light - was the reflection off the clouds above of what remained of the Eternal Flame. A pale parody of the roaring fire that had established an Age.

The - floor? ground? - was covered by a thick, gray layer of sooty ash. The path disappeared underneath the ashy blanket, the way forward unclear. Probity moved forward, along the path of least resistance. On either side slender shapes were thrust upward out of the ash. Had they been trees? Pillars? Structures? There was no way to tell.

As Probity rounded what might have been an impressive column or possibly even an ancient redwood before it had fallen, she saw something that stood out from the blasted landscape. There was the faintest of glints as the light from above reflected off silver armor. One of Gabriel's elite silver knights was guarding the route.

Preparing her sword and shield for combat, Probity inched forward. The crunch of her boots on ash made it impossible to be silent, but it was just the two of them in any case, so stealth wasn't an option.

Probity locked her eyes on the knight, standing a head taller than herself even in his debilitated state, and inched forward. The knight waited, unmoving either forward or back. But he had obviously noted the intruder.

Probity watched as the knight's gaze took her in, moving from her long, free hair to her feminine bust, then her shapely hips, and finally down her slender legs. Then back up, taking in the whole picture. But somehow, Probity didn't feel a sense of any sexual interest from the knight, just that he was confirming that she was indeed a woman.

The knight then appeared to be staring into the middle distance, and Probity got the impression that he was distracted, almost as if he was ... communing with someone or something?

But Probity had a mission to accomplish, so she'd have to confront the sentinel. She advanced, carefully closing the distance between them, weapon at guard position.

However, when Probity approached within range of the knight's massive greatsword, the defender did what she least expected. He stood aside, moving to stand at parade rest. His eyes left Probity and fixed again on the gateway she had just entered through.

Scarcely able to believe it, but not about to refuse, Probity sidled past, eyes remaining locked on the knight's side, then his back, as she circled him with her naked blade ready the whole time.

As she crossed the uneven - dusty ground? heaps of ash? - three more times, Probity encountered a fallen column, three more times encountered a silver knight, and three more times the knight stepped aside.

The Citadel was not defending against her entrance.

After the third encounter, the ash heaps ended, and Probity was walking on stone floors. There were no remaining walls or ceilings. The outer construction of the Furnace was in extreme disrepair.

The clearest sign of how far the structure had fallen was that it had clearly originally spanned a mighty chasm, but all that remained was the framework. Rafters of stone built atop mighty pillars which disappeared into the unlit depths.

The path forward to the main Furnace on the other side might be more substantial than a rope bridge. At least for now it was. But given a few more years, the Furnace might be completely unreachable from the outside.

The crossing itself was, if anything, anticlimactic. The rafters were wide enough that there was no fear of falling as long as Probity took care, and was as stable as any stone construction in its condition could be.

The other side was, at least, in better shape. A wide, ceremonial walkway descended along the edge of the chasm, both the paving stones and elegant railing in relatively good repair. Three more knights silently let Probity pass.

Now that Gabriel knew the Champion was a woman, he apparently wanted to meet Probity himself.

At the end of the curved road, a short staircase ascended to the innermost doorway, which certainly led to the Furnace of the Eternal Flame itself.

The tall, slim doors did not swing open like the outer gateway, but gave little resistance when Probity gently pushed on their smooth outer surface.

The dimly-lit chamber that was revealed - the very heart of the Furnace of the Eternal Flame - was a dormant volcano. The Flame itself, which just a few years ago had been a continent-illuminating bonfire, was barely lighting a chamber fifty yards in diameter. The inner features were clearly natural and not constructed - rock formations rather than cut stone and mortar.

But there was one other light source in the fallow Furnace.

Striding slowly and stiffly towards the door was a large figure armored - not in gleaming plate like the silver and black knights - but in a rough-and-ready mixture of mail and leather. The light source was the figure's curved sword, which was easily as tall as Probity herself. Flames ran up and down the blade, making it a torch that would certainly seriously wound even an armored opponent.

Although Gabriel - the great Potentate - was significantly larger than Probity, her battle-trained senses told her that much of his overwhelming power had come from the Flame, and in its current degraded state, he was moving much more like an ordinary old man.

Probity, embracing her role as Champion one last time, decided to be patient and see what the old man could do. The Curse mark, her constant companion in her quest, was unusually absent.

Gabriel, as befit a man who could become the Protector, was not a passive man. As soon as he was in range, Gabriel drew back his huge sword and swung at Probity in an angled arc. But backed only by the diminished power of the Flame, the attack was slowed just enough. Probity's instincts kicked into overdrive and when the somewhat arthritic attack came, she decisively flicked out her the buckler strapped to her free wrist, parrying the blow.

Overbalanced, Gabriel staggered to his knees - still nearly as tall as Probity even in the position of a penitent. When Probity followed her parry up with a decisive sword hilt to Gabriel's helmeted forehead, the older man swayed drunkenly. But Gabriel was not the Potentate for nothing, and - shaking his head to clear it - he scrambled to his feet outside Probity's sword range and turned to meet the invading female once again.

All man, all masculine aggression. Gabriel could not abide the situation, so he swung again, a broad overhead smash. If the Potentate was in his prime, backed with the roaring Flame, Probity would be a puddle on the ground. But the Flame was almost extinguished, and Gabriel was slow.

Once again, Probity sidestepped, and once again her trusty little shield snapped out to clang against the descending greatsword. Once again the giant older man stumbled. Once again Probity's sword clanged against Gabriel's faceplate, striking with the blade this time. Blood splashed.

Slowly, nervelessly, the Potentate collapsed face-down on the stones of the Forge, potent no longer.

The Flame's guardian now vanquished, Probity now had a duty to perform. The Curse had chosen her for a reason. Had brought her here. Had inspired her.

Probity thought of the future. She thought of the settlements that were the remainder of civilization, shrinking month by month. She thought of Gabrielle's seductive post-coital vision of the future and of the uncertain promises of prophecy. She thought of the dozens of debased men she had put down like animals on her way here, and the hundreds and thousands still roaming the ruins of society.

She looked down at the husk of Gabriel, once the land's proud Protector. And the pool of blood forming around his unmoving head.

The Protectorate had been damaged greatly by the lack of the Flame. By the disruption it had caused both men and women. Probity could not bear to see the land so badly damaged. It would have to be healed.

Before she could change her mind, Probity threw the glass bearing Gabriel's son's soul into the pit. There was a tinkle when it landed.

Immediately, the Eternal Flame kindled back into life. Tendrils of flame sprang up, and soon a bonfire filled the pit, illuminating the walls and ceiling of the furnace. Heat, too followed. The air around Probity became hot. Dry and searing on the exposed skin of her face. And there was sound, a subdued hiss and crackle that were a fraction of the roar the Flame would have at its peak of power.

Probity's skin was bathed in heat. The dark sign of the Hysterical Curse, over Probity's left breast, was incandescent, letting off an actinic glow that she could see through the boob window in her armor. The femininity marshaled by the Curse mark surged and ebbed, as if it was a womanly shadow of the radiant masculinity emitted by the flame.

The Curse must have brought her here, within sight of the Eternal Flame, for a reason.

So after an interminable second of mental adjustment, Probity felt a sense of calm. A male Protector would channel a rampant phallic column of Flame, feeding it with his soul, and in turn deriving power and authority from it. Probity was beginning to realize what Gabrielle had only hinted at. That a female Protector could learn to nurture the flame, to keep masculinity and femininity in balance, to use both together, to strengthen the land. Intertwined, like the braiding of a rope.

Her skin felt almost cool, despite the blazing Flame a mere few feet away.

It was the rush and sizzle of the Flame that prevented Probity from hearing the crunch of Gabriel's footsteps - so she was startled when a large, powerful hand seized her by the shoulder. Twice the size of her own, it was not an old man's hand.

The hand yanked Probity's shoulder back so powerfully she was unbalanced, and she staggered backward. Towering over Probity, at arm's length, was Gabriel, but a radically different Gabriel than the burned-out shell she had defeated.

Proximity to the restored Flame had reinvigorated the Protector - the shrunken, dessicated old man had been restored to a tall and powerful flush of peak maturity. Decades of wrinkles had fallen from his now unlined features.

Before Probity could react, a hand the size of a luncheon plate struck her across the face.

Nervelessly, Probity fell backwards to land supine, propped up on her elbows on the Funnel's dusty hearthstones. Stunned, Probity could only stare at her reinvigorated attacker. He moved towards her, and with every step the youthful grace of a hunting cat increasingly returned to his gait.

"So it was a woman relit the Flame," Gabriel rasped in a hoarse voice clearly little used for years, possibly decades. "Our battle isn't over, lassie. But now I have the advantage." And Gabriel reached up to cast aside his dented helmet, revealing close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair that was still gradually darkening from the full-on gray-white it had been just a minute ago.

The grievous wound Probity had inflicted had closed entirely, and was fading to become just another battle scar.

The giant, youthfully vigourous Gabriel then fell silent as his hands worked at his belt. The skirted wrap of his leg armor fell to the ground with a crunch of leather. Probity's eyes widened in amazement as she witnessed the true reason Gabriel had been called the Protector Potentate. Gabriel's thick, snaky penis dangled dangerously from his groin, not even half-erect but still as large as any organ Probity had ever previously seen. She couldn't tear her eyes away. Her husband had been barely that large while erect.

With sinuous grace for a powerful man two heads taller than herself, Gabriel knelt at Probity's side. The strength that had allowed Probity to defeat so many men in battle - including Gabriel himself - surged within her. The strength of a warrior.

But the Curse stayed her hand. Probity's warrior mind screamed to get up and run for her sword, but her body just wouldn't obey. The Curse's power flowed through her limbs, filling her with femininity but also a sense of lassitude. Her limbs didn't respond like a warrior's. But like a courtesan's.

Probity could only continue to lay there, sprawled before the Protector Potentate, wide eyes full of a mix of fear and fascination.

The Curse mark was again glowing on Probity's breast, warm light shining out from the seams of her leather armor. Almost invitingly. Like a beacon.

Probity watched as the kneeling Gabriel stared briefly at his unlined hands, turning them back and forth, as if coming to grips with what had just happened. Then Gabriel clenched his fists, as if in response to the Flame's power surging through them.

Then Gabriel reached down and grasped both sides of the boob window in Probity's armor. And pulled. The leather obediently split along its major central seam in deference to Gabriel's restored strength. In one motion Probity's trim young body was exposed from neck to waist. Her breasts, and the glowing Curse mark, were revealed in the orange radiance of the Flame. Probity could see the Curse's glow reflected in Gabriel's dilated pupils.

"Hmmmmm," Gabriel murmured appreciatively. Probity's wide-set, athletic breasts jiggled briefly as they fell into place once bereft of the armor's support. Her heaving trim belly was fully visible to Gabriel's hungry gaze. Even the mystery of Probity's straw-colored pubic hair was strongly implied due to her nakedness.

Probity's staring eyes were fixed on Gabriel's predatory shaft as it rose to half-mast as he surveyed his conquest. "You're crude. And crass. For a Lord," she said. But she couldn't bring herself to look up far enough to meet his eye.

The greedy lust on Gabriel's face was his only answer.

Then Gabriel's beefy hands unerringly sought out Probity's shapely breasts. The greatest stud in the Protectorate, as if he hadn't seen a female's chest in a hundred years, eagerly attacked the shapely mounds, grasping and fondling their smoothness. Gabriel eagerly dug his strong fingers deep into the firm, silky flesh before leaning in to taste each of Probity's stiffening nipples.

Probity sighed as her pebbly nipples obediently firmed solid and thrust into the heated air of the Furnace, standing tall atop her ballet-slipper pink areolae. Encouraged, Gabriel in turn sucked the entire tip of each of Probity's smooth breasts into his mouth, devastating the younger woman by gently using his tongue and teeth on the sensitive flesh.

Gabriel pulled back to squeeze both quivering breasts into cones in his large hands. As he felt the firm pegs of Probity's large nipples stiffen fully against his uncallused palms, the Protector of the Land smiled ferally. "I see your body knows what it wants," Gabriel rasped. And he abruptly released Probity's orbs, allowing them to quiver and jiggle back to their natural shape.

However, Gabriel continued to finger and toy with Probity's responsive nipples, tweaking the stiff buds until they throbbed with arousal. Arousal which caused the unexpectedly compliant younger woman to shiver enticingly. A flush of heat surged through Probity's pussy, and it had nothing to do with the Eternal Flame.

Still stunned by the speed of the erotic assault, Probity could only respond with pleased sighs, and offer her shapely body for further caresses.

The Curse mark on Probity's breast was practically a third nipple. Throbbing with femininity. Radiating pleasure through Probity's whole upper body. Filling her with need.

A few more minutes of experienced fondling from Gabriel had the prostrate Probity sighing, thoughts of escape fleeing from her pleasure-drunk mind. Her nipples and clitoris were throbbing with arousal. The mature Protector Potentate seemed to know exactly what the younger Probity's sensitive breasts needed.

Then Gabriel's hands slipped down to Probity's waist and pulled at the seams of her armor again, even more powerfully this time. The mid-weight leather, never designed to handle this abuse, split completely apart, shreds falling uselessly to the hearthstones. Leaving Probity's whole sexy body fully exposed in the light of the Flame.

With the confident ease of a man who had handled compliant young women for hundreds of years, Gabriel positioned himself kneeling at Probity's feet. Leaning forward, Gabriel reached down to flick one of Probity's beestung nipples with a fingernail, which caused a shudder to run through her bare, athletic body.

Eyes flicking to the Curse mark, as it flared brighter in sympathy to the carnal stimulation, the older nobleman smiled at the demonstration of submissive feminine sexual response.

Gabriel's massive cock, restored by the Flame and fully erect after the minutes spent aggressively fondling Probity's luscious breasts, stood tall from the thicket of pubic hair at his groin. To Probity's astonished eyes, the enormous organ looked like a battering ram, ready to smash through her most treasured gate.