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A note from the author:
This is my very first story submission, and the first chapter of, what I hope to be, a series. I realize that there will be many unanswered questions after reading this chapter, many things that were hinted at but not explained. The next chapter will have many answers and more background information. I have started the next chapter and am already thinking chapters ahead so hopefully you will enjoy the first chapter and come back for more! Enjoy!
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She stirred slightly and slowly opened her eyes. The light streamed in and immediately blurred her sight as she blinked her eyes slowly to banish the sleep. She stretched out lazily and shut her eyes again to enjoy the warmth of the morning sun on her body and the cool feeling of stone beneath her. Bringing her arms down from their stretched position above her head, she began to blindly roam her body with her soft hands. Her modest-sized breasts fit perfectly into each hand and her nipples rose to meet her fingers as they gently brushed over them. Her slim, tight, stomach felt soft as a baby's skin. An open meadow leading south to the island she sought. Her hands made their way down, as far down as they could reach, until they found the familiar wetness dripping from her small slit. She stopped and acknowledged the alarm going off in the deep recesses of her mind. She knew the risk, or at least she knew the stories.
"Risk makes it all the more exciting," she thought as she slowly inserted just her fingertip into her body, careful not to come close to her virginal barrier. She shuddered in pleasure at the tiny, secret, invasion and opened her legs wide to the let the sun's warmth bathe the opening of her pussy and thought, "Gods this feels amazing how could anything that feels this good be wrong?"
She wiggled her fingertip slightly and used her other hand to lightly brush a finger over her clit, making her moan softly. Beyond the pleasure, back in those deep recesses of her mind, that alarm started ringing a bit louder. The last of her sleep-induced haze was wearing off and allowing her logical mind to take the wheel. Still as a statue, realization washed over her making her heart race and blood run cold.
She sat up quickly and opened her eyes, frantically blinking to force them to focus. The stone surrounding her was unfamiliar. The hole cut in the stone ceiling that was letting sunlight in was not only unfamiliar but strictly forbidden in the homes of her village. She was completely naked, stripped of the magically protected underwear she had worn since her first bleed at age twelve. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Where am I?" she thought frantically. "What have I done?"
"Do not scream." said a voice from behind her.
She whipped her head around toward the sound of the voice only to realize that she was, in fact, behind bars. On the other side of the bars was a round, stone, table where a man sat facing her. He wore a long black tunic that tied around his neck and flowed freely down just past his knees. His black hair matched his skin and his eyes were an unsettling mixture of kindness and danger. His face was neither handsome nor ugly yet something about him made her heart race - and not necessarily in a bad way. When he stood from his seat at the table, her heart began to race even faster. The man was enormous. His height was not unlike the men in her village, at most six feet tall, but his body was covered in layers of muscle. They rippled and bulged with every movement as he walked closer to her bars, sat down in front of them, and crossed his legs. When he spoke, his voice was soft and friendly.
"Please, do not yell out, small one. I did not mean to startle you. I would have spoken earlier but you had not yet opened your eyes and you were... ehm... well... I thought to allow you a moment of pleasure before making myself known," he said. "My name is Sarchentru. You may call me Sarch, if you wish. I am to be your... handler. Your trainer, I suppose. What is your name, small one?"
The shock of her situation had caused her to forget that she was totally naked as she listened to Sarch talk. She may have gone on not remembering that detail if it hadn't been for his eyes. He spoke to her, well, at her, but his eyes wandered every inch of her body. "What have I done?" she thought again. He shifted his body numerous times, as if to find a more comfortable position, but the bulge underneath his very loose-fitting tunic made the true reason clear.
She looked down at the floor, shaking uncontrollably, unable to form words or even thoughts. After a few moments, Sarch spoke again. Only this time, his soft, friendly, voice was very different. "You will answer me when I ask a question of you," he said with a growl that made her head snap up to face him and a small whimper escape her mouth. "Your name...now."
Tears streaked her cheeks and she shook so hard her teeth were clattering together. The danger in his eyes overwhelmed her entirely. She tried to force herself to answer him, terrified of what he may do if she did not. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally squeaking her response, "My name is Cheynier. Chey." He nodded approvingly, and the muscles in his shoulders seemed to relax.
"Good. Cheynier, Chey," he said. "You know where you are, correct? And why you are here?" She whimpered again and nodded her understanding.