The Trials

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This is my first time writing erotica, and my first submission to Literotica. Enjoy and feel free to comment!

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Fera Venucia awoke to utter chaos. Wild whooping in the night mixed unnervingly with agonized screams. The camp was being ambushed.

Though she had just woken, Fera was quick in gathering her wits amidst the confusion. She had instinctively grabbed her sword upon the first utterance, perhaps before she had even opened her eyes, and it was good that she did for she was immediately inundated with enemies. With a flash of steel in the moonlight, she attacked. She worked her curved blade quickly and precisely, with a smoothness accrued through many years of bloody slaughter.

Those years did not weigh on her. She had been chosen as a battle-maiden of the Ultōrēs at the age of seven, and had been separated from her family to live with a new one ever since. It did not bother her, for this was what she had wanted, and never before had she felt any doubt or uncertainty. Her family was now the battle-maidens; that was how it was supposed to be. It was a family whose ties were tightened with all of the hardships they endured. The bonds of friendship ran deep. Protecting the honor of the battle-maidens came before all other calls to duty. When they stood together in battle, no one left until they were victorious - or dead.

This is why Fera felt as though she were struck by a hammer when the sun began to rise and she found herself fighting alongside only four other maidens. They were hopelessly outnumbered, but nothing had to be said: they would fight to the end. Her camp had comprised of fifty maidens when they lay down to sleep the night before, but now there were only five. The thought that they had all died enraged her, but even this did not compare to the rage she felt knowing that, when they had all died, no one would ever know their story. This, she decided, was why she must not die.

And so she fought, ferociously, not for herself but for the honor of her fellow maidens. It must have been a terrifying and glorious sight. One by one, her remaining companions fell... she did not know how long it lasted. The sun was well above the horizon when it struck her that she was alone and surrounded. Her breath came in short, husky pants as blood still dripped from her sword.

There was no way out. The enemy soldiers did not advance, and she noticed what appeared to be an officer talking quietly with another soldier. He gave an order which, to her surprise, she understood as Scutum. She had never heard it spoken by a true user before, but it was the language she had specialized in.

"We will take it back to the homeland!" He yelled.

She refused to be captured. She was determined to die by her comrades. She tightened her grip on her sword. But then she thought of what would happen if she died...

Nothing.

No one would what had happened here. As she stood, still breathing hard, she resigned herself to the dishonor of surrendering for the greater honor of the maidens she had fought alongside. She promised herself that she would survive so that one day she might deliver the story of her companions to the Ultōrēs.

Fera let her guard down slowly - very slowly - and watched as the soldiers cautiously advanced. They seemed to think that she could pick up that sinister blade and strike them faster than they could run. Perhaps she could. She thought of this, and of other things, as they approached. When they seized her, she realized that it was the first time men had touched her outside the heat of battle. They seemed somehow rougher, and more solid. This was not to say that she could not defeat ten of them at a time, but... she wasn't sure what she meant.

They expediently tied her up, blindfolded her, and threw her in a covered wagon. She had no notion of where they went, but through the whole way she heard bits of conversation from the head of the wagon. They seemed to be talking of her, though why she would be of particular interest was beyond her. Several times, when discussing her, they mentioned something about "The Trials."

This filled her with a mixture of feelings: there was that of trepidation - it was likely that "The Trials" would be a painful and deadly experience - but she had long ago made her peace with death. There was also a feeling of excitement; perhaps she could prove her prowess one last time. Perhaps it would provide closure, or finality... but then the story would die with her.

She would survive this.

---

They traveled for several days, resting only enough for their horses to maintain a solid pace. Fera Venucia kept her mind busy with speculation, straining to hear the occasional conversation from the front of the wagon, and summoning all of her past knowledge of the Scutum people. She knew disappointingly little of them - only that they lived far to the east of her homeland and rarely interfered with Ultōrēs affairs. It was just when she was dwelling on what could possibly await her in "The Trials" that the wagon stopped momentarily, and several moments later the rattle of the wagon wheels changed from dirt to cobble. Fera could hear the bustle of commerce and activity - that of a mid-sized town by her estimation. But as the wagon continued onward, the bustle again died down and an unexpected silence lay over their path. The cobblestone still rattled beneath, but there were no people here. The wagon finally stopped, and she was led out by the two men who had driven the wagon. They had apparently separated from the troop that had captured her.

Fera was brought out and led along a cobblestone path through a courtyard surrounded by high walls. The walls obstructed her view, so she gathered little from her brief view of the outside, but she could see that the building was located near a mountain, which loomed overhead. She was led down some stairs and into a barred cell, while two robed men stood and talked quietly outside it. She looked openly the two men, curious. She had not seen many foreign men outside a battlefield, though she supposed they were not very different from her own peoples. Then she heard "The Trials" mentioned and raised her voice in a poor attempt at Scutum:

"The Trials, what are they?"

The two men seemed startled. Apparently they had not realized that she could understand them to some extent. Instead of answering her, they quickly walked off, exchanging mutters furiously. As they trailed off, she heard one say:

"She can speak our language? Surely they will let her enter now!"

The same fear and excitement returned to her, now more than ever, with such a confirmation.

She spent a day in her cell with nothing to do but think. She was surprised by how well they fed her. It more than she might expect to eat on a scouting mission, really. Sometime later (she had since lost track), the same two men entered with a new man leading them. He appeared to be important, wearing different robes, finer sandals, and an amulet around his neck.

"What is your name?" He asked with an authoritative voice that seemed to render itself important, rather than being a result of any effort on the speaker's part.

"Fera - Fera Venucia" She replied, timidly at first, but with a strong resolve after a moment's pause. She held herself steady as she spoke, and looked at him with an even gaze.

"Fera Venucia, I am come to tell you good news. You have been selected to enter The Trials."

Her pulse quickened as he spoke. "This is it," she thought.

"The Trials are a series of tests which, if passed, will allow you to enter the Inner Society," he continued in a ceremonial tone. "You will be treated as a free citizen, though you will not be allowed to leave the city for some time."

Fera could not comprehend what was being said. She doubted her linguistic abilities, but she recognized all of the words being spoken. The man continued:

"The Trials will test your abilities to endure and adapt, as well as to understand important truths about yourself and your fellow humans. The Trials are conducted with no outside intervention: progressing will depend entirely on you. The temple has ancient and mysterious magic which we still do not fully understand..." That was all he said.

Fera immediately began to ask questions, but he would say nothing more. The two men led her up the stairs, through a courtyard into an intricate but apparently very old temple. With every step, her excitement grew, but she still could not decide if it was fear. Surely she, a battle-maiden of the Ultōrēs, could overcome any challenge that they put before her. They stopped at a small doorway deep in the temple. It was lined with unintelligible carvings which Fera was certain were not Scutum. The men proceeded to undress her; they did not seem to take notice of her glare, and the important-looking man opened the door, through which lay a murky darkness. Just before they threw her in, they cut her ropes and the man on the left whispered:

"Do not forget to cast off your shame. It is a useless garment which only hides beauty."

They threw her in.

---

Fera Venucia landed with a small thud. It was surprisingly soft, that thud. Sound seemed to fall dead here. She did not hear the door close behind her either. She immediately lifted herself from the floor and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a small cell, it seemed, that was about two arm spans wide and long, with a ceiling she could touch with the flat of her palm.

Just enough to be comfortable in, but is this no trial? she thought.

The size of the room was not what held her attention, however. The cell was one which she had never seen the likes of. The smooth, textureless walls glowed with a soft grey-white light which rendered her nearly shadowless. She could make out the lines of the corners, at least, so it was not exactly maddening... just odd. She could no longer see where the door had been, as though it had sealed over, and she could not remember which way was which. After a few minutes she realized that the walls seemed to hum faintly, and a temperate warmth pervaded the room. It was not humid, it was not cold, and it was not hot. Just warm. It was as though the walls were filled with energy - or life.

She could not keep track of time as she stood there. She eventually leaned against the wall, arms crossed under her breasts, and simply watched the light. Every so often she would catch a glimpse of movement, as though a wall were breathing. At one point, she thought she felt the one behind her expand and contract. She couldn't be sure, it was so slight. Fera kept a vigilant watch and pondered on what the man had said to her before, but she saw nothing more for a long while, and she lay down to sleep.

It was odd, the feeling of her skin on the warm, glowing floor. She had never slept completely naked before; she was always prepared for action, sleeping in either rough cloth, or sometimes armor if enemies were expected. It did not take long for her to drift given recent events, and as she fell into sleep she thought she felt the floor breathing gently underneath her...

_

Fera woke suddenly when a slight shadow fell across her eyes. She was used to waking for even slight motions, sounds, or smells. She quickly recalled where she was, and when she looked up, a gasp escaped her.

There was a bizarre protrusion from the ceiling, hovering over her. It seemed as though it had grown directly from the wall. It was a long, smooth arm which welled up from the cell surface seamlessly, almost like a stalactite. Fera immediately got as far from it as she could in the confined space, and to her horror the arm very slowly turned in her direction, as though facing her. Her back was against the wall, and she was quite far enough away from it.

Though it hardly made progress towards her, Fera decided to take her chances and strike it with her fist. It took the blow, deforming and receding from her back into the ceiling. It was malleable, but firm, like warm, smooth clay. It moved very slowly, though not quite as slowly as before, she thought. The wall it fed from seemed to glow brighter than before. She also noticed a faint depression where she had slept in the outline of her form. She watched, over the course of several minutes, as the thing melded back with the original wall.

It was as she looked ahead intently, still feeling the adrenaline pump through her veins, that she felt a slight bump forming at the base of her spine. It was almost imperceptible, but it seemed to be pressing into her lower back.

Fera turned to see a small mound in the wall that had formed right where she had felt it, and watched as it slowly merged with the wall again... Was it moving faster? She resolved to stand in the middle of the room, as far from each wall as the other. Nothing was happening. What was this place?

She breathed heavily, still shocked by what had awoken her. Her thoughts were cluttered; she couldn't understand what it meant. Her mind kept drifting back to what that man had said:

"Do not forget to cast off your shame. It is a useless garment which only hides beauty."

What had he meant? She was as proud as any of the battle-maidens, and they were known for the pride and honor they bore so highly.

She stood until her feet grew numb. Nothing had moved since the mound had receded back into the wall. Fera decided to sit down to conserve her strength. She wrapped her arms around her knees tightly and sat, wearily watching the walls in turn. An hour passed. Nothing moved. She began to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing, but she could still recall the feeling of that bump as it began to nudge its way between the tops of her buttocks. It sent odd feelings racing through her when she recalled it - why was there this small residue of excitement still in her?

A cold shock blasted through her nerves as she felt something brush against the lips of her womanhood. She had never understood why they called it that - her womanhood. She had didn't known its use, except that it was apparently different from a man. She had not dwelt on it long, for it was a useless thing, and she had no time for useless things. Now, she sprang up instantly, finding a growth similar to the first one having silently swelled from the floor, right where she could not have seen it with her legs held together. It had touched her there - in her womanhood. This left her with the same mixture of trepidation and excitement as before. She noticed something move and looked to find an appendage emerging from the ceiling. It was moving much faster now - though still slow compared to human motion - and she instinctively struck it to send it receding again. Instead of reforming with the wall, it merely shrank back and watched her with its blank, smooth face. She backed away from it, shaking.

Fera Venucia did not know what to do, where to go. She watched the growth from the floor and the one from the ceiling in turn, unable to keep both in her view at the same time. It then occurred to her that she was forgetting to watch the wall behind her, and she turned to find yet another appendage that brushed against her hip as she moved.

Was the... 'cell' moving slightly faster than before?

Fera ran to the opposite side of the room, looking frantically everywhere now, and to her horror a form began to swell up from the wall she had moved closest to. She struck it preemptively, and went after the other appendages that had formed. With each blow, it was as though she transferred a little bit of energy into the thing. She recoiled as she noticed one arm sneakily sliding up tangential to her right calf. She caught it as it reached her hamstring and drove it back with one quick strike. While looking down one had emerged from the ceiling and was now flowing towards her, about to touch her face. Enough! Fera hit it with her mightiest blow, and all movement in the cell ceased. Every growth that had come from the wall began to slowly shrink back to its origin, and soon nothing moved in the cell but her own chest as it rose and fell with her breathing.

Hours upon hours must have passed, and Fera thought she would go insane. She dared not sleep, or even sit, but there was nothing except for the steady hum of the walls. This could not go on... She felt the symptoms of sleepiness encroaching on her thoughts. She could not, must not fall asleep, but it was a losing battle ever since she had been interrupted the first time. Only a faint, empty warning confined to the back of her thoughts sounded as she lay down... The floor was so warm, so soft, so gentle as it hummed. Darkness descended...

---

No shadows passed over her eyes this time. Fera instead awoke to the terrifying feeling of warm smooth tentacles sliding over the skin of her calves and forearms. When she came fully to her senses, she thrashed unlike she had ever known herself capable. Despite the advantage that the thing had already gained over her arms and legs, she was able to stumble away from its grasp. However, it was when she turned around to face the tentacles and put her back near the wall that Fera Venucia made her mistake.

The first thing she noticed was the sensation of mud seeping between her toes, except that it wasn't mud: her feet were sinking into the floor. Fera began to pull one foot up but it resisted more than expected and she lost her balance. Her arms went back instinctively to brace herself, and as she touched the wall with her hands, it engulfed them up to her wrists. Her momentum carried her onward until her back made solid contact with the wall, and a large arm crossed over her stomach with quick precision. It left Fera in an untenable position with her feet slightly too far out to provide an effective force to extricate herself from its grasp. Her best bet was to twist, pushing with one arm and leveraging with her shoulder, but it like her hands were encased in clay. The situation was only made worse as it moved her ankles apart. However, she quickly forgot about that when she felt the sensation of warmth as a growth from the wall behind her slowly cupped and engulfed her crotch.

A gasp escaped Fera as she felt the appendage rub against the place that had been neglected all her life. She still struggled, arching her back and noticing her nipples standing proudly atop her breasts. The ceiling must have noticed too, because shortly thereafter more featureless growths descended to brush the hair from her cheek, caress her neck, and eventually fondle her breasts. This distracted her momentarily, but very soon her attention went back to her crotch as she felt the thing cupping and rubbing the entire area between her legs. It was terrifying, but that excitement in her now boiled.

Her pussy was wet, unlike it had ever been before, and the friction over her anus, lips, and most especially her clitoris felt strangely wonderful. More appendages had emerged, forming to her contours and massaging her in titillating ways form her calves to her back, to her belly, breasts, and thighs... For a time, Fera struggled against it all, but soon she was exhausted and resigned herself to relax through its ministrations. It was a good decision, she would later determine.

As soon as she let the tension in her body subside, she began to dwell on the feelings and she soon realized that she enjoyed them very much. She leaned her head back and let it carry her weight. To her surprise, it reformed to support her in a comfortable, reclined position and its grip softened until it barely restrained her at all. It was gentle, yet firm.

Fera was still not entirely prepared when she felt it enter inside her, however. She tensed up again, remembering how humiliating the situation was and feeling shame flood her. But then she remembered what the man had said: "... cast off your shame. It is a useless garment which only hides beauty."