Virgin Sacrifice: Bred to the Beast Read online

  Virgin Sacrifice: Bred to the Beast

  By Fannie Tucker

  Copyright 2012 Fannie Tucker

  Kindle Edition

  ***

  A stiff gust blasted through the dark vale, lifting the dead leaves in whirlwinds that rustled through the forest like ghosts. The sun still stood above the high ridge to the west, and dim light filtered through bare branches to leave mottled shadows on the deadfall. Anja's basket was only half-full of the dark truffles she'd come to find, but she hurried to the trail. She wanted to get back to the village of Krall well before dark. Somewhere in the woods, an owl hooted. Old women in the village claimed that hearing an owl during daylight meant bad luck. It's just an owl, Anja told herself, but she suppressed a shiver and quickened her step.

  Anja felt a prickle along her shoulder blades, as though someone was watching her. She spun around to peer back into the trees, sharp blue eyes searching. Nothing moved except a few dead leaves that skittered along the ground. Anja clutched her basket and lengthened her stride, but she didn't feel comfortable even when she passed the first of the outlying farms that surrounded the village.

  Tall trees crowded the edge of a field where brown stalks lay crumpled in the black soil. A stone farmhouse sat back from the road, with shutters closed and doors shut tight. Nothing moved in the yard; even the livestock were already hidden away. This time of year made people nervous, and with a Sending so long overdue, no one wanted to be caught outside at night.

  Harvest was almost over, and the chill of early winter had left its morning frost on the dead grass two days running now. It had been almost twenty years since the last Sending, and for Anja and the other girls her age, the dread would last right up until the first snows fell. Right up until another girl was chosen, in fact.

  For as long as the people of Krall could remember, a Sending had happened once every generation. Girls who had come of age would draw tokens from a clay jar. She who drew the red token would journey into the Howling Ravine high on the slopes above the village, to the lair of the Beast.

  The Krall folk rarely spoke of the Sending, except to remind young girls of a certain age that it was a high honor to be chosen, but their eyes slid away worriedly to glance up at the mountain.

  Children spoke more plainly, and Anja had heard whispers of the Beast since she was a little girl. It was said that the Beast was twenty feet tall, and he feasted on the virgins sent by Krall, then slept on a bed of their bones in the back of a dark cave on the mountainside.

  Anja knew that couldn't be true. Before she was born, Lucas Salkar's mother Lena had drawn the red token at the last Sending, and she had returned to the village and married a man from the lowlands. If she was a bit quiet, if she spent entirely too much time alone on the sprawling Salkar farm at the edge of the village and stared into space when you spoke to her, what of it? Lucas was a fine young man, strong and handsome, and already the best hunter in the village.

  Anja blushed at the thought of her betrothed, with his broad shoulders and sharp, intelligent eyes. The Village Elders wouldn't allow them to marry until spring, and she prayed that the snows would fall soon, and another year would pass without a Sending. Anja and Lucas would be married by the next Harvest, and no one could make her draw a token then.

  Of course, Anja didn't deny that the Sending protected the village, somehow. In the lowlands, sheep and cattle regularly disappeared, carried off in the night. Everyone said it was wolves, but wolves ate their kills where they fell. The farms closer to Krall never had problems with the so-called wolves, even this close to the forest.

  On the village square, a farm wife might give her neighbor a firm nod and call the Sending was a harmless tradition that brought good fortune. But at night, children would whisper in hushed voices of the Beast that lurked on the mountain above. Anja didn't know which was true, but she didn't want to draw a token. She wanted to marry Lucas. They would build a cottage on his family's farm, well away from the main house, and tend their own fields and herds. She would bear him children, and...

  Lost in thought even as she hurried down the forest path, Anja barely noticed the rustling of leaves behind her. When two thick arms wrapped around her waist, she screamed and dropped her basket. Truffles scattered on the trail as her basket tumbled downhill.

  "What's the hurry?" a deep voice said. Warm lips brushed against her neck, and thick stubble scratched against her soft skin.

  Anja spun and slapped a broad, muscular chest as she pushed away. "Curse you, Lucas Salkar! You scared me!"

  Her betrothed let out a deep belly laugh that made his wide shoulders shake with merriment. "My apologies, dearest." He leaned his longbow against a nearby tree. "I was only having a bit of fun. You're easier to stalk than a doe with fennel fever."

  Lucas wore a coat and breeches of sturdy buckskin, but his muscular frame seemed to stretch the stitching when he moved. A quiver hung on one hip, and a brace of rabbits on the other, killed so neatly that Anja couldn't even see the bloody wounds where arrows had pierced them. Despite his size, he moved with a fluid grace, and he had a beautiful smile.

  Anja felt a tingle of delight just looking at him. Every girl in Krall wanted Lucas Salkar, but his gaze had fallen on Anja. More than his gaze, in fact. Anja blushed at the memory of his hands beneath her woolen dress, but she hadn't given him everything yet. Until she was married or a Sending was held, she had to remain a virgin.

  "I'm glad you're so easily amused," Anja said with a wry grin. "Now help me gather up these truffles. I want to get home."

  "As you command, my lady."Lucas gave her a mocking little bow, then scampered around on nimble feet, gathering up the truffles and tossing them into the basket. Even in the fading light, Lucas had no problem finding the dark little clumps, and soon he handed back her basket with exaggerated deference.

  Anja arched an eyebrow. "And the one you slipped in your pouch?"

  Lucas's expression conveyed complete innocence and shock. "Why, if there's a truffle in my pouch, surely it must have fallen in by mistake, or perhaps my lady meant to surprise me with a generous gift?"

  Anja rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oh, just keep it. But since you're out here, might you escort a lady home?"

  Lucas offered her an arm, and together they continued down the trail, past the farm and back into a swath of thick forest. Anja felt no need to hurry now, not with Lucas by her side. She leaned against him as they strolled, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  Still, worry gnawed at Anja. "Lucas, do you think there will be a Sending this year?" she said softly.

  He stiffened beside her. She knew he wanted to protect her, and this was an uncomfortable topic. He was silent for a long moment. "Yes," he said. "It's been too long."

  Tears welled up in Anja's eyes, and she stopped and threw her arms around him. "Oh Lucas, what if I'm chosen? What then?"

  He held her as she sobbed, stroking her curling dark hair with his thick, sure fingers. "Shh, little Anja. Twenty other girls could be chosen. Why should it be you?"

  Anja knew he was right. If there was a Sending, it was unlikely that she would draw the token. For all she knew, it might snow tonight, and she would be safe. Her tears dried up and her breathing slowed, but she snuggled her head deeper into Lucas's broad chest. He felt warm and safe, and she didn't want to leave him yet.

  Lucas bent to kiss the top of her head, then inhaled deeply. His lips found her ear, and he nibbled lightly at the lobe. Anja groaned. His mouth was warm and soft against her skin, and she rolled her head to one side. Lucas pushed her long hair back to bare her neck, then kissed her, sucking gently. Anja felt heat rising beneath her skin as feeling stirred between her le
gs. She knew what those feelings meant, and they had become harder and harder to resist. Lucas seemed to sense her weakening resolve, and his lips worked hard to weaken it further.

  Anja wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers over his shoulders, enjoying the hard curves of muscle beneath his buckskin coat.

  Lucas's hands slid down her back and swooped over the narrow curve of her waist. He moved lower, and Anja stiffened when he fondled her bottom. "Not here," she said, glancing nervously up and down the path. "What if someone sees?"

  Lucas grinned. "Everyone's huddled in their homes, afraid of the Beast. Besides, we're betrothed. You think we'd be the first couple to go off into the woods for a little fun?"

  Perhaps it was the looming threat of a Sending, but Anja felt bold. Her lips turned up in a mischievous little smile. "Let's go off in the woods then," she said.

  Lucas took her hand and pulled her toward the trees, but she stopped him.

  "Don't forget," she said. "I must remain a virgin."

  Lucas flashed a wolf-like grin. "Then we'll just have to get creative."

  They found a wide old oak on the other side of a low ridge, close to the road, but out of sight. A soft blanket of leaves covered the ground beneath its spreading branches, and thick, twisting roots spread out from the wide trunk.

  Anja skipped toward the tree, looking back at Lucas with an inviting grin. He followed eagerly, eyes sparkling with lust as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She laughed as he half-carried her to the oak. He pressed her back against the rough bark and bent to kiss her, parting her lips with a forceful thrust of his tongue. The day-old stubble of his beard scratched her face, but his lips felt good on her mouth, and she opened to him as he pressed and sucked with urgent need. His hands found her breasts and squeezed through her woolen dress, and Anja's nipples swelled at his touch, pressing against the rough fabric, firm and sensitive. His fingers slid over them, rubbing and pinching until they ached.

  Lucas's mouth moved down to her neck again, and his breath was hot and fast on her skin, like an animal about to tear into his prey. There was something wild and dangerous about his passion, and Anja's heart raced when they were alone.

  Her slender hands slipped beneath his buckskin coat and found the laces of his trousers. As she worked them open, her fingers brushed against the bulge of his manhood, a pulsing length of meat as thick as her wrist. Lucas shuddered at her touch, and when she pulled his cock out of his pants and wrapped her hands around it, his desire became a frenzy. She stroked him the way he'd shown her, slow at first, then faster as he urged her on. His hands tightened on her ripe, round breasts until they ached. She wanted his mouth on them, but when they were alone, Lucas decided what they would do.

  "Get on your knees," he murmured in her ear, his low voice almost a growl. When she didn't respond, he pressed down on her shoulders until Anja's legs bent and her knees pressed against the soft earth.

  Cold moisture seeped through her dress, but she barely noticed. Lucas's cock stood in front of her, long and hard, its head red and throbbing. When she looked up, his eyes shone with a fevered light as he watched her.

  "Use your mouth," he said.

  Anja frowned, confused. What did he want her to do? When his hips thrust forward, her eyes widened. Surely not... "Lucas, I..."

  He grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her head and pulled her forward, cutting off the rest of her words as his cock slid between her lips.

  Anja tried to gasp in surprise, but he cut her off. She writhed and tried to pull away, but he held her head in an iron grip and brought her slowly forward.

  "Shh, little Anja." Despite his obvious excitement, Lucas spoke in low, soothing tones. "Don't struggle. Breathe through your nose."

  Anja's jaw stretched, and as Lucas forced more of his rod into her mouth, she tried to stay calm. She had heard of this before, from older girls who spoke in horrified whispers as they shared nasty rumors. What kind of girl would do such a thing?

  Now she knew. She was the kind of girl who would. Her face flushed with shame as Lucas's manhood pressed against the back of her throat. She clutched him near the base of that powerful shaft with one hand and guided him in until she felt she would choke. Finally, he stopped pressing forward and began to stroke her hair.

  "Now suck it," Lucas commanded.

  Anja inhaled a long, deep breath that brought her his manly scent, a strong, coppery musk that rose from between his legs and swirled in her nostrils. She tightened her lips around him and began to suck him, gently at first, then harder.

  Lucas began to move his hips, first pulling back until only his tip rested against her tongue, then, just when Anja thought she was free, he would plunge back in. All the while, she kept her mouth sealed around his shaft. At some point, she pressed her tongue against the smooth underbelly of his manhood. When she looked up to see if he liked it, Lucas's eyes were rolled back in his head.

  He moved faster, and Anja's breath came more easily as she settled into his rough, quick rhythm. Her tongue flickered against him, and she realized with a shock that she was enjoying this.

  Lucas was too, but suddenly, he pulled himself out of her mouth, then took her by her shoulders and turned her over a nearby tree root. Anja caught herself with her hands, on all fours in the leafy mulch with her belly resting against the thick root.

  Lucas took her dress in both hands and pulled it up to bare her stockings and her naked thighs. It caught on her knees only for a moment and left burned red skin when he gave a stronger yank. He gathered the woolen fabric in a wad that sat on her lower back as he knelt behind her.

  When he pulled down her underwear, Anja turned her head and said, "Lucas, please, I'm not ready. The Wise Woman, she'll check to make sure. You know we can't..."

  "Don't worry," he growled. "Your precious virginity's safe with me." But the hunger remained in his voice, wild and uncontrollable, and Anja felt anything but safe.

  Lucas slid his broad hands over her bare ass, then slapped it as he would a stubborn mule. Surprised, Anja jumped and let out a yelp as a thousand needles prickled across her flesh. Then something hot and hard pressed into the cleft of her buttocks, like a rod of iron wrapped in smooth silk.

  Instead of trying to pierce her sex, Lucas slid himself up and down along her crack, his member still wet with her own saliva and something else, something warm and thick that seemed to drip from his swollen tip. His rough thrusts pressed her against the tree root, and Anja struggled not to tumble over it.

  Lucas wrapped a hand around her, and his fingers found their way up under her dress. He explored her thighs and belly, circling the tuft of dark hair between her legs like a wolf circling a wounded sheep. Despite his rough, fevered thrusting, her sex seemed to swell and quiver in anticipation of his touch. She felt hot and wet down there - soaking, in fact - and desperate for him.

  She arched her back, pressing her buttocks against his cock, moving against his rough thrusts and opening her legs so that his fingers could...

  Anja shuddered suddenly as Lucas's hand stopped its playful circling and slid between her legs, parting her pink flesh to reveal that smooth, secret place.

  He found her swollen, sensitive nub with such quick expertise that Anja wondered briefly where he'd learned such a thing. Then a wave of pleasure rolled through her body, and she convulsed as it pushed all thought from her head.

  Lucas bent over her now, and when he moved his powerful body, she felt like a leaf in the wind as he pushed and pulled her. His hot breath warmed nape of her neck, and his fingers pressed against her sex, moving in quick little circles even as he thrust against her crack. Anja's heart pounded in her chest, and she clawed the ground with her fingers, pushing the thick carpet of leaves into the dark, moist soil as her breath came in fast gasps. In a high, reedy whine, she urged Lucas on. "Oh yes, Lucas, please, more, please, I beg of you!" His fingers moved faster, and as the wild sensation inside of her swelled and swelled, the bloomed with unexpected suddenness. Sh
e felt a moment of pressure just before pure ecstasy swept over her. Her screams rebounded through the wooded hills as intense sensation like nothing she'd ever felt rippled through her body in slow, pulsing waves.

  She pressed hard against Lucas, clenching her buttocks around his hot, hard length. She felt him shudder as his cock pulsed against her. He grunted and pushed her dress up almost to her neck, pressing down on her back as something hot and thick and wet landed between her shoulders, followed a moment later by more.

  As her own climax receded, Anja giggled in amazement as Lucas's seed spilled out over her naked back, coating her in glob after glob of sticky, warm fluid.

  Finally, Lucas sighed and settled back on his haunches. He gave her a gentle pat on the rear and chuckled. "We'd better get you cleaned up, my dear."

  When Lucas and Anja reached the village, the sun had fallen behind the mountain. Nestled between two ridges, Krall was a hodge-podge of tall, slender houses and shops built of wooden planks with thatch or slate roofs. Most of its folk scurried about their last evening duties, closing up shops and hurrying home to dinner, where candles and lanterns cast pools of orange light out into the dim evening.

  Anja hurried to matched Lucas's long stride as he led her through the winding streets to the village square, a wide, open area at the center of town with close-cut grass and criss-crossing footpaths. At its center stood an ancient, gnarled oak far older and thicker than any Anja had ever seen.

  The Sending Tree, it was called, and it had been here even before the village. Torches mounted on iron poles surrounded its trunk, brightly illuminating the tree and the smooth circle of bare wood on its trunk, where the Beast would leave its mark to call the Sending. That circle was unblemished now, and Anja prayed it would stay so for another year. She shuddered and gripped Lucas's arm more tightly, and they hurried past the tree without a word.

  Anja lived in a small cottage on a gentle rise overlooking the square. Her father must have seen them coming; he stood waiting on the low porch as they crossed the small garden.