The Lord of the Clans

by Chris Lange

  “Is it what you want?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? He looks strong and able to me.”

  She wondered how she had moved from accuser to defendant in such a short span of time. The conversation completely out of her hands, she unlaced her fingers to ruck up the hem of her shirt.

  “I’d rather continue my journey with you.”

  He pursed his lips as if he understood something she didn’t. When he took a step toward her, she saw twinkles in his gaze.

  “Is your decision based on my servicing you?”

  Chapter twenty-Eight

  “Is it?”

  Her cheeks burned. Her belly cramped, along with the most secret part of her pussy. Eyes wide, she made an all-out effort to keep her mouth from hanging open while he regarded her with a haughty look.

  “Dear Gods, you’re blushing like a maiden again. Have I, by any chance, made you uncomfortable?”

  “You know you have. This is your favourite game, isn’t it?”

  “I must admit I enjoy the delightful sight of your rosy cheeks, but I wonder what Kelton would think.”

  “Nothing.”

  He arched an eyebrow. His startled look pleased her because he had toyed with her one time too many. As he obviously waited for her to clarify her short reply, she walked briskly to the tent.

  “I bid you goodnight, my lord.”

  She turned away from him and lifted up the flap, but his harsh words hit her just the same.

  “Who says I want you in my tent?”

  “I say so.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  His disdainful tone sent flutters down her belly as she perceived the biting jealousy he wouldn’t speak out loud. Now was the perfect time to announce she was no longer betrothed to Kelton.

  But she kept her mouth shut. Leaving his question hanging in the air, she bent down, crawled inside their shelter, and lay down on her back. Her confession would have restored his happy mood, providing that she felt like forgiving him for taunting her thus. Right now, she didn’t.

  Heart racing from her own boldness, she licked her lips and rubbed her fingers against each other to dispel the sour aftertaste of the insolent stunt she'd just pulled. How dare she speak to the Lord of the Clans like this? She hadn't been taught that way. More to the point, what would he do now?

  She heard familiar crackling noises as he doused the fire. The weak glow of light filtering through the tent vanished, replaced by total darkness. She hadn’t checked the sky but, by the look of it, there would be no moon this evening. Ears pricked, she followed his progress toward the tent.

  When air brushed past her face she knew he had chosen to sleep by her side. She remained motionless, perceiving his motions as he settled next to her. Shifting his body, he grunted more than spoke.

  “Where are the blankets?”

  Well, he’d switched to grumpy mood, and he wouldn’t touch her again tonight. So much for passion when she didn’t treat him like a lord. But she had spotted the blankets upon entering the tent. They were on the other side of him, bundled close to his feet. Given that she had vexed him to her satisfaction, she might as well do this little thing for him.

  “Let me get them.”

  The utter darkness didn’t help. She sat up and, hand in front of her, aimed at the desired objects. Then she froze as she touched something hard. His sharp hiss filled the tent.

  “That is not a blanket.”

  He wanted her. In spite of everything, he desired her. She felt drowned under a flood of sensations as the realisation hit home. An imperious need to love him moistened her folds, and she didn’t take her hand off the solid lump. Heart pounding, she let his warmth seep through her palm.

  “Ariana, what are you doing?”

  She unbuttoned his pants to release his swelling member. He groaned as she rolled her fingers around the thick base. He stiffened when she slowly stroked the whole length of his shaft.

  “Dear Gods.”

  His deeply aroused tone pricked her excitement and her respiration accelerated. Letting go of him for a brief instant, she quickly swept her shirt over her head before taking hold of his erection again. Touching his hard-on felt like handling the long, steel rods the blacksmith at home used to forge carts.

  Recollections of their night at the tavern flashed through her mind, but this time he wasn’t pretending to be asleep. Actually, he appeared so awake that she had to loosen her grasp a little.

  Fingers firm and easy, she kneaded his dick while she lowered herself on her free elbow to level her chest with his face. A short moan passed his lips. Although distances were quite difficult to assess in the dark, she plopped her breast in front of where she reckoned his mouth should be.

  She drew in a raspy breath when he sucked in her tit. His tongue igniting such a deep craving that her thighs quivered, she caressed his shaft from bottom to top. The low noise that rolled in his throat sounded almost like a growl as he kept on licking her nipple.

  She let out a moan of hunger, her pussy too drenched to sustain his stimulation a moment longer. Whether due to the complete blackness, the hushed stillness of the forest, the hot body sprawled underneath her, or the starving mouth claiming her breast, she had never felt so aroused.

  Releasing her vibrant nipple, he put a hand on her shoulder to prompt her to lie down on her back.

  “You rouse the beast in me, flower.”

  Her insides wavered at the delicious sound of his excited voice. Nonetheless, he was too late to play the dominant male. Solely listening to the wild thuds of her heart, she removed his hand from her shoulder, and sat on her heels. He wouldn’t service her for once.

  She gathered her skirt around her thighs before straddling him. Although she didn’t yet touch his erection, he must have figured her intent because she felt the muscles of his legs bulge. She lifted herself above his navel, her knees resting on the underside of the tent. The absence of light didn’t bother her as she pictured him in her mind, and took his rigid dick in her hand.

  Heat swallowed her up when his tip brushed against her soaked slit. She lowered herself, and her moan of satisfaction shattered the silence while her pussy gobbled half of his cock. He hissed. She felt his palms on the sides of her thighs, rubbing along them with nervous movements.

  “Oh, yes. Devour me, flower.”

  His plain excitement sparked a new burst of moistness. Burning from an inner fever, she let herself fall on him. Her buttocks bumped against the top of his legs while his hard-on shot upward. She cried out from the flash of pleasure torching her body.

  He clenched his fingers around her thighs. His huge shaft buried in her, she began slow up and down motions. Goose bumps puckered her skin as though the friction of their horny flesh reverberated throughout her whole body. When she heard his steady breathing turn to grating huffs, her most intense yearnings broke loose. The desire to dominate him, the intoxicating hunger to conquer her lord.

  Straddling him the same way she mounted wild horses, absolute mistress of his manhood, she didn’t need physical strength now to submit this giant to her will. He groaned each time she sucked him in. He clutched her legs harder each time her folds absorbed his unbending erection.

  Fuddled with power, she pressed her lips together and quickened her rhythm. His noisy response might have contented her call for control if her body hadn’t let her down. But her pussy started to throb as it harboured the comings and goings of the thick cock, and an intense swell seized her from inside.

  She thought she had a little time, but she didn’t. He suddenly gripped her waist between his hands. His grunts louder than her raucous moans, he lifted her up and down with the ease of a titan.

  An overmastering sensation rushed through her while he worked her body toward release. Their cries of joy blended as he pushed his hips up to shove his cock deep inside her. His heaving thrusts toppled her over the abyss. Head bobbing, she wailed when her mind burst with sheer pleasure.

  Her
bliss was so extreme that she feared blacking out. Even as his body shook from his climax, she fell on top of him.

  As if drained of her essence, she dropped her face onto his chest and closed her eyes. His heart pounded under her cheek, but soon the decreasing beat appeased her frantic spirits. She sighed with utter satisfaction when he wrapped her into his strong arms.

  She had no idea how long they stayed in that position, but at some point, a cold feeling prompted her to put her shirt back on. Hot as always, he took his pants off and covered her with the blankets he had finally found. Snug against his warm body, she hoped for a dreamless sleep.

  His loud and awkward fumbling woke her up. Even with her eyes shut, she felt the light of day filtering through the fabric of the tent. An odd sound from outside the tent reached her, but she didn’t pay it much attention as her consciousness tried to emerge from slumber. Morning had come.

  Lingering under the warm tent sounded appealing, yet she really needed to get up. Training with her shaman began today, and her being late wouldn’t sit well with him. Eyelids still too heavy with sleep, she kept them shut while she naturally slid a hand down between her thighs and scratched her nuts.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Her what?

  Coarse hair met her palm as she rubbed soft, round, sensitive balls, and a flaccid mass brushed against her wrist.

  Lids flying open, she looked around. The previous night she had lain down on the right side of the tent, but now she seemed to be on the left. She sat up straight. Another quick glance told her that something was terribly wrong, but in spite of what her eyes were seeing, her brain wouldn’t register the shocking sight. Guts twisted with dread, she blinked.

  A long penis dangled between her thighs. Underneath the member that shouldn’t be there, her hand still cupped two hairy nuts. She blinked again when her heart stuttered like an unserviceable piece of machinery, unable to comprehend what in ether’s spirits had happened to her body.

  Then a sort of frenzy took her over, and she checked her limbs with erratic fingers. Covered with a fine layer of fair hairs, her legs looked like tree trunks. The shirt she wore didn’t belong to her, its fabric thinner than her usual clothing. When she touched the flat, muscled torso underneath, she felt like passing out.

  Her breasts were gone.

  Mind paralysed with terror, she glided her palm along broad shoulders and bulging arm muscles. Although unwilling to explore her face, she breathed in hard before stroking big jaws. Light stubble tickled her thumbs, but her pulse really went into a mad gallop when she felt the scar slashing her cheek. What in the name of the Creators was going on?

  She lifted up her shirt again to focus on the familiar tattoo inked above her belly button. No coiled snake there. Instead, the coloured drawing she’d already seen several times seemed to draw her in. A bear holding a dagger. Not the mark of the Ancients, but the sign of the warrior clans.

  Fear stabbed her. Before panic completely overrode her fleeing rationality, she pressed two fingers on each side of her face and closed her eyes. There must be a logical explanation, however bizarre the situation.

  His crumpled pants lay beside her big, elongated feet. She grabbed them, suddenly impatient to conceal the loose flesh disfiguring her groin. While she put them on, the odd sound she'd heard upon waking up reached her ears, and she recognised it. He was cursing. His voice sounded funny though, but what was normal this morning?

  Fumbling with the irritating straps of his boots, she called his name. And almost pricked her finger on the clasp of his shoe. The deep voice that came out of her throat dried her mouth as her pulse quickened again. Dear Creators, she must be dreaming, or at the very least hallucinating.

  On all fours, she crawled out of the tent. A mild breeze caressed her nose while she inhaled the fresh scent of the forest. Burnt remnants of the fire he’d built last night met her gaze. Nothing appeared amiss so far. Leaves crunched to her right, catching her immediate attention.

  Perhaps the Mighty Gods were punishing her. Although she couldn’t fathom their motives, they must have decided to chastise her for offending them because the person now standing close to her couldn’t be real.

  Eyes wide, heart palpitating, she looked at herself. At the skirt she’d taken out of her saddlebags and worn for her aunt, at the shirt displaying roundness across the chest, at the face that rightfully belonged to her. Right now, the expression on it bore resemblance to a scowl. Then the mouth moved.

  “Look at me. I have tits.”

  Listening to him speaking with her voice felt terrifying. Sometime during the night, they had swapped bodies. The notion sounded utterly ridiculous, yet she couldn’t come up with a better explanation.

  She’d never heard of any other such instances, but her shaman possessed magic and might have a solution to their problem. Knowing him, she felt quite sure he’d undo whatever had been done in no time. They just needed to get to him as quickly as possible.

  Somewhat reassured by this spur-of-the-moment plan, she began to smile. Her giant of a lord had been turned into a woman, and the way he gawked at his new chest deepened her grin.

  “Lovely breasts, my lord.”

  He mumbled and frowned as he touched the rest of his body. Letting him get familiar with her curves, she stood up.

  “Whoa!”

  As though the world took on different dimensions, she had to grab the top of the tent to steady herself. Trees looked smaller, and the ground appeared further away from her head than usual. Glancing at him, she realised she towered over him. Was she that small?

  “Cameron, this is rather unbelievable. Do you have the faintest idea why I’m you and you’re me?”

  “Sure. And when I get my hands around that shaman of yours, I’ll wring his scrawny little neck.”

  “You can’t be serious. He’s not responsible for this.”

  “Who else? Somehow, I can’t imagine your betrothed pulling this off. He has neither the means, nor the motivation.”

  The mention of Kelton reminded her that she still hadn’t told him about her recent freedom. Unsure of his reaction, she rubbed the light stubble on her cheeks before looking into the eyes that weren’t gray anymore.

  “I’m no longer betrothed.”

  Eyebrow quirked, he impatiently pushed stray hair away from his brow. “Really? And you’re telling me this now because...?”

  She'd hoped to see happiness on his face, but instead she saw a cold mask of indifference. Although circumstances had dramatically altered since last night, she still wanted him to care about her. This weird situation wouldn’t last despite his misplaced suspicions toward her shaman, and the troubling thought of losing him knotted her stomach.

  “No reason.”

  Just then she caught a twinkle in his gaze, but the fleeting light dwindled too soon. He shrugged, his head barely reaching her shoulder.

  “Right. Let’s go to your aunt’s house now. Your shaman and I are going to have a serious talk.”

  “Okay, but just give me a minute first.”

  She needed to relieve herself before anything else. She spotted a squirrel climbing up a trunk and disappearing into the thick branches as she walked toward the nearest growth of trees. At least nature hadn’t changed. Once concealed behind a tree, she unbuttoned her pants and squatted.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She yelped. She sprang to her feet, startled by the feminine voice she wasn’t yet used to hear, and swept her hands in front of her dick. Feeling like he caught her in the act, she flinched when he laughed.

  “There’s no need to hide your new attributes, Ariana. It’s not like I’ve never seen them before, you know.”

  “You surprised me, that’s all. I need a moment alone, but why are you following me?”

  “I figured what you were about to do and, forgive me, but I wanted to see that. It looks to me like your approach isn’t the right one. Do you want me to show you? Or perhaps to hold it for you?”

>   Although indignation should have been required, the amused tone of his voice warmed her heart. He probably hated finding himself in the body of a woman, yet he was already looking at the bright side of things. Pursing her lips, she kept her back to him while she waved him away.

  “I guess being a man kind of slipped my mind. But I can manage without your help, thank you very much.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Certain.”

  She tarried until he strode back to the tent to stare at the piece of flesh between her legs. How did this work? Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time to dwell on the mechanism of her penis.

  Cramps seizing her lower belly with the desperate need to pee, she raised the dick with care and aimed at a patch of grass right ahead. Then she waited, fingers firm around her shaft. And she waited some more. Just as she thought her body might not want release after all, a warm liquid gushed out.

  She jerked back, startled by the sudden outburst. Her hand slipped on the soft skin, yet she continued to pee. Her long phallus bobbed around, free as a bird, sustained by the force of the hot urine. Before she could grab it again, her piss splattered the grass, the base of the trees in front of her, and the top of her boots. His boots actually, but who cared in these days and times?

  His offer of assistance didn’t sound so irreverent now. After assessing the extent of the damage, she agitated her penis up and down, and a little to the sides, to disperse the last drops before shoving it back into her pants. She retraced her steps toward the camp but had to stop in view of the tent.

  Her nuts ached. Grimacing, she stuck one hip out while she reached between her legs to tug at the seam pinching her balls. It didn’t help. She pulled harder, reluctant to believe men walked around in such discomfort all day long. In spite of her best efforts, the tweaking wouldn’t ease up.

  She stomped her foot on the ground as his burst of laughter echoed in the quiet woods. Whirling round, she stared at the large grin on his face.

  “Having troubles?”