And so it was that Mathias the hand-healer found himself in the shackles of a cage being wheeled out of town. Four hideous men walked in formation around the caravan as the driver led his horses through town to parade their new slave. "Look upon him!" the town crier exclaimed, "look upon the foul harlot, but fall not to his evil temptations!"

Look upon him they did. They did not see much a man to fear; strong as he was he did not look it. He was mostly unremarkable save a pair of piercing blue eyes. It was said those blue eyes seduced the Lord Variel's daughter, Mathilde, as well as her handmaidens. She wept, whether out of love or lust one could not say, and blew a kiss to Mathias as he was wheeled away beyond the confines of her societal prison.

Beyond town, the caravan passed forests and fields, crossing kingdoms, toward Mathias' ultimate destination and punishment: death in the fighting pits of Mirva'an. As the days passed, death in battle began to sound more appealing to the young man, offering at least the chance to exercise his billowing anger; would that he could only meet his jailers on the battlefield.

"Forgive me sir, but I believe the call of nature is upon me," he declared. The jailer, a despicably ugly and toothless brute, shook his head. "But I'm afraid I can't hold on any longer, please!"

"If you piss yourself in there, you're cleaning it up, right after a flogging!"

It was a pity his hands were chained to the roof of the cage, it would have been worth his final breath to relieve himself upon the mindless muscle-heads surrounding him. Thoughts of their demise kept him distracted from his bladder.

After an unbearable hour the caravan came to a pause, and his new owners let him out momentarily to relieve himself by the roadside.

"Why've we stopped?"

"We going the wrong way!"

"The fuck you mean? That's the road there innit?"

"Well I know that's the road shithead, but lookit where it's going!"

"The fuck I care where it's going, s'long as it's going to Mirva'an."

"But that's the Thylay'en! No way we're getting through there!"

As Mathias was forced back into his cell, the brutes continued to argue. More afraid of a delayed shipment than any haunted forests, they decided to continue following the road.

It turned out their hesitation was well warranted. Deep in the middle of the forest, where the trees became so thick they seemed to strangle the road between them, a spear caught the driver in the neck. Swords were drawn and arrows loosed, as high-pitched yelps came from the treetops. The battle was swift, with a wayward spear coming very close to Mathias' manhood during the fray, and afterward his captors lied slain on the ground.

The assailants withdrew from the forest to loot their spoils. Covered in leaf greens and wood browns of the forest, they seemed to emerge from nowhere into the road. All were veiled in wooden masks painted like demons and goblins, but as their herbal camouflage fell away, exposing thigh and midriff, Mathias could see they were entirely female.

A spear took him suddenly in the lower back. The pain was hot; blood began trickling down his leg. Turning to see his attacker, he watched as the leather-clad spearwife was poised to attack again before another of her kin pushed her aside.
"I surrender!" Mathias cried, "Would that I could lift my hands any higher; I surrender!"

"What are you doing Kairie? That's my kill!"

"He's chained, he was clearly their prisoner!" the second warrior protested.

"It doesn't matter in what state he comes, he is trespassing. The law is clear."

The wound in Mathias' back began burning hotter.

"We should let him loose, he has meant us no ill!"

"No!" Another woman stepped forward. This one tall, taller than Mathias by half a foot at least, and built strong. "He would only return with more for vengeance."

"If I was to return, my good lady, it would be with wealth, to return the favour you have done me this day."

The tall one seemed deaf to his words, "You must kill him, Kairie, your spear has yet been bloodied."

Lowering herself to pick up her spear, Kairie slowly climbed aboard the caravan to face Mathias through the bars.

"Please," Mathias took a deep breath to steady his wavering voice, "might I at least know the face of my killer."

"I will allow you this, outsider; secrets will serve you naught in death." Kairie reluctantly tossed her wooden mask to the ground and stood poised with her spear at the ready.

Mathias looked upon her with reverence. A lithe young beauty, of age with him, she had long hair the colour of straw, braided and tangled like wild golden fire about her head and shoulders, and green eyes that gleamed with a sharp focus and discipline.

Mathias himself was quite to her liking, though he looked rather pitiful draped in a tattered vest and trousers. She hesitated with her spear over her shoulder, poised to strike, as her eyes met his, and a feeling began to tug at the core of her chest.

"What are you waiting for?" cried her kinswoman.

In a flash she lunged the spear forward, and Mathias flinched at the spark of light accompanying the loud clink of metal. The lock at the front of the cage fell to the ground broken, and the door began to drift open with an annoying creak. All of the spearwomen halted their looting to look at Kairie. "We will take him prisoner and find out what these men were doing in Thylay'en: this could have been an act of aggression. Then we will kill him."

"If he is to be taken prisoner, then he is your prisoner, Kairie!"

At spearpoint Mathias was led many miles through the forest. In the excitement and fear, the need to relieve himself crept up again, though this time he decided to make no mention of it. As the blood continued to trickle down his leg, he realized he would soon have a bigger problem. Once the throbbing at his side became too much to bear, he ultimately collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Upon his next waking, it appeared as though his altercation with the warrior women was but an illusion, as he found himself once more trapped within his cage, although it seemed to have grown since he last doze off, and transformed from metal to wood.

His prison was now of sturdy wooden bars, with some kind of dark green fabric thrown overtop, leaving him with what little green light shone through from without. His hands, among his most useful qualities, were once again restrained above his head forcing him into standing.

His clothes had been changed as well, as he stood in naught but a loincloth. He felt cleaner than before, and at some point he must have made water, as he no longer felt the need. Tilting his head over his shoulder he also noticed a bandage covering the wound, the pain of it gone. "Now when did that get there?" he wondered.

His thoughts drifted to a hazy and feverish memory of lying upon a table of cloth.

"Remove those, we haven't much time," came a woman's voice carrying a depth and warmth akin to a low roaring oven.

To his left, Mathias could discern in his blurry vision the shape of her standing with her back to him next to another table, uncorking a bottle. She was garbed in a fine linen robe of midnight green, with a thin line of skin visible beneath a lattice of strings going down her back, ending just above her tailbone. The gown was tight on her form, and though he saw not an inch of her legs beneath the skirt, he could imagine firm curve of her buttocks; the thought of it soothed him.

Another stood next to him, lifting his shirt over his head, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and mischief. She had on what appeared to be a brown cloth bustier that ended in a long black skirt which was split at the sides, exposing both of her fair legs. The lady herself had dark golden hair all tied up above her head like a bun, with errant strands poking out at the edges. Her figure was lithe, aside from the breasts nearly bursting from her tight bustier.

While she began to pull off his pants, her eyes met Mathias' for a moment. "Umm, Celta? It would appear Kairie's prisoner is awake!" she remarked.

"It makes no difference, get his clothes off, he's fading." The other woman turned from her uncorked bottle and began laying her glossy oil covered hands on Mathias' exposed chest. He could see now a kind beautiful face wrinkled with concern beneath long wavy earth brown locks. Her bright blue eyes met his only momentarily, and he thought her a guardian angel.

Upon removing his breeches, the two women stood at either side of a naked Mathias and began to lather their hands in the glossy liquid from the bottle. "The poison has spread through his entire body," Celta instructed, "You must not miss an inch."

Together they began to lather him in the strange liquid, which cooled and tingled at the touch. Both sets of hands were gentle on his skin, but Celta's commanded a firmness that implied greater experience. Celta continued lathering his chest and neck, while her assistant moved up and down Mathias' thighs and calves.

Their hands met at his crotch and they paused for a moment to share a look, as though the assistant was waiting for her master's permission. "We have to treat him as if he were anyone else."

"But, what do we do about this?" Her nervous hand clutched his flaccid manhood and lifted it to point at the ceiling.

Celta took it in both her hands and began to lather the oil over his cock and sack, "See, it's not going to hurt you."

Together they began massaging him there, and felt him change within their hands. His penis became erect, eliciting a degree of concern/excitement from the assistant, but Celta assured her it was normal.

Celta continued to spread the oil over the rest of his body while her assistant persisted in her curious experimentation with the erect flesh. To her small hands it seemed massive, and so she committed both of them to lathering the oil up and down, playfully bending it left and right in the process.

Suddenly a hand brushed the back of her leg through the split in her skirt. She froze momentarily and thought of saying something, but waited. The hand began gently rubbing her, moving gradually up her thigh. Excitement crept over her, as she realized her master was oblivious to the reaction they had elicited in their patient. She looked away to conceal her reddening cheeks and continued to lather the stiff cock in one hand, seemingly resuming the work on his legs with the other.

Celta turned away from the table momentarily, as a hand tightened around the assistant's ass. She held a breath with tension, arousal rising within her. Looking upon her patient on the table, eyes closed, head turning side to side, she guessed it was rising within him as well. Despite his erection, he looked much like any woman she had had in the throws of passion. She continued to stroke him, watching carefully his reactions, as his fingers crept beneath her smallclothes to grip the soft skin of her buttock.

Celta returned, "I believe that should suffice. His colour has returned to him, though to hear Kairie tell it, he hadn't much to begin with. Let him rest for now; his fate is in the council's hands."

"Surely we should turn him over, finish his backside?" She was flush red and developing a sweat as she spoke, while a few fingers began to explore between her legs.

"That won't be necessary. Come, Carice, we have other wounded to attend to."

After Celta left the room, Mathias' handler hesitated before leaving his side. In his groggy state, he caught but a final glimpse of her before she departed.

He was unsure how many days had passed since his treatment, but the oil appeared to have returned him his health in full, granting him much more energy and optimism than he had had even before his captivity. With this new invigoration, he contemplated his current surroundings.

"I have heard stories," he mused, "of the dangers of the Thylay'en; wandering travelers disappeared without trace beneath it's towering trees. Could these women be the 'spirits' of legend?"

Just then he heard hushed giggles outside the front of the cage.

The fabric covering his wooden prison lifted for a moment, as two women crawled beneath it against the bars. They were laughing to each other, and shared a long embrace, before one spied Mathias strung up in chains to the ceiling on the other side of the bars. "Is that the man?"

"Oh him? Pay him no mind. No one may disturb us here." She lifted a key from her neck to open the cage, leading her playmate inside. She was strong in appearance, with toned sleeveless arms and a cured leather bodice laced at the front of her pointed breasts. Underneath her armor she wore a purple gown, which ended in a short skirt. Long leather boots and purple stockings covered the rest of her legs, revealing only a few inches of her thighs. Curly and dark was her hair, which came only an inch below her ears. Bright green were her eyes. Gemra was her name, as Mathias later learned.

"Is he dangerous?" her partner asked. This woman was younger, and lither, with short yellow locks and long bangs. She had blue eyes and high cheekbones on a face as thin as the rest of her. Black leggings clung tight to her wiry form, and on her torso she had a loose green v-necked shirt that ruffled at the sleeves. Mathias overheard Gemra speak her name: Lilia.

"You're not dangerous are you?" he heard Gemra ask, now fully awake with his arms going numb above him.

"That would depend chiefly on who you ask," he replied, "though at the moment I'd say I'm well out of reach of my usual mischief." He tugged the chains fastened to the ceiling.

"See, there is nothing to fear my love. I will protect you." Gemra leaned in to kiss her partner, whose eyes grew wide.

"What, right here?"

"Insane isn't it?" and she kissed her another time. Lilia relaxed into Gemra's embrace, and in the end submitted to her. Mathias did nothing but watch as Gemra's hands tightened on her lover's ass, eliciting the smallest of squeaks mid-kiss.

Lilia began kissing Gemra's neck, as she was often prone to do, and Gemra's eyes flared at the male captive before her. Her smile was one of a taunting prey, well beyond the reach of its predator. Mathias merely smiled back at her with genuine good manners, as though to declare his silent satisfaction with himself.

"Maybe we can have fun with the slave?" Gemra mused. "Help me doff my armor."

With that, Lilia moved behind her so that both of them were facing Mathias. Her fingers eagerly felt for the strings and buckles adhering the leather to her partner, while Gemra began unlacing the strings traversing her cleavage.

A white brassiere and ample bosom were revealed as the armor came apart and was tossed to the floor. Lilia kissed away at Gemra's neck as her hands ran up and down her lover's torso, clasping and squeezing her. "Will you think of these before you die, slave?"

Though her breasts were to Mathias' liking, he locked his gaze with hers, "No more than your eyes, I expect. Such an intense green; those are warrior's eyes, if I were to guess. Were you one of the hunters in my affray? Come to impress a gentle doe with the spoils of your victory?"

"Perhaps I am. Tell me, Lilia, what do you think of my catch? Are you impressed of me?"

Lilia leaned her head on Gemra's shoulder to consider the man while Gemra leaned her head back to nip at the blonde's neck in the meanwhile. "Well, I daresay he speaks better than I expected, for a cock."

"A cock? Is that what I am to you?"

"That is what all men are here in Thylay'en. Just as well, 'tis the only part of you worth any value."

Mathias chuckled, "I won't debate its value, but I'm worth more than my cock alone!"

"A large and stupid cock," Gemra went, "thinks it can do anything. It can not make a lover squeal like I can. Allow me to demonstrate."

Gemra knelt to the floor before Lilia, lifting the hem of her shirt to kiss her stomach, her hands massaging her thighs and buttocks on the way. She peeled away the tight fabric of Lilia's black leggings and began kissing her way downwards. Exposed down to her thighs, Lilia closed her eyes and tugged at her own hair with one hand, and Gemra's with another, as she climbed in ecstasy.

A sharp cry of pleasure departed her lips as she lost her balance and fell forward, catching Mathias' shoulders to stand. He watched Gemra lap away between her lovers hips, and then take three fingers into her mouth before plunging them inside. Lilia panted harder, and Gemra stimulated her with her hand and tongue until a spattering of clear fluid sprinkled over her face, and Lilia cried joyfully.

She leaned her face into Mathias' shoulder for a moment of respite, whom turned his face to rest his cheek on hers and whisper to her ear, "Tell me, how do you feel."

"Ameliorated," she replied softly.

"How pleased are you with your lady?"

"Very pleased." She nudged her head slightly to rest her forehead on his, and opened her eyes to find his gazing back at her. The beauty of his eyes was enrapturing, and in the weakened state of her settling orgasm, she pecked him gently on the lips. Gemra was busy kissing away at her nethers that she didn't notice, and Lilia quickly knelt away from him once she realized what she had done.

On the floor the lovers embraced in a long kiss; streaks of Lilia's rain still trinkled down Gemra's face. "And that is how you bring a lady to fruition, cock be damned."

"As one who has never needed a cock to reach fruition, save my own, I wouldn't claim otherwise. But I daresay you wouldn't know what to do with a cock if you came across one anyhow."

Gemra and Lilia were rolling on the floor together when the dark-haired warrior twisted her neck to Mathias, her nipple restrained by Lilia's lips. "You think I haven't met your kind before? Unlike Lilia I have ventured beyond Thylay'en; don't presume you are so complicated. Every cock I met needed but a simple stroke, and before next his trousers were stained before he could even get them off."

Lilia paused and considered her lover inquisitively. "Have you tasted the sap?"

"Of course my love, we all have."

"I'm not speaking of a mere flavouring, I mean have you tasted the sap directly? From its source."

"Well... no, not like that."

Lilia bit her lip while she considered Mathias' loin cloth, "I've always wondered how it tastes alone."

Mathias raised a brow, "You mean to say this 'sap' is part of your cuisine?"

"It's provides a unique flavour, yes. An acquired taste, to be sure, but such delicacy is not afforded to prisoners."

"I have no objection to that. However, being in my present condition," he tugged at his chains again, "I am in no position to refuse you a sample."

Lilia and Gemra both had their eyes trained on his loincloth. They sat up, with Gemra in the lap of Lilia, and slid their hands along the thin hairs of Mathias' legs. He felt a wandering hand reach beneath the cloth and fondle him, fingers wet with Lilia's pleasure. The tips of Gemra's fingers traced along the bottom of his testes while Lilia stroked the hardened shaft of his penis. They looked at each other.

"Well," said Gemra, "I suppose a little taste..."

In a flash Mathias' loincloth was to the ground. Both of them had their hands on him, stroking and exploring. Gemra, sitting in her lover's lap, leaned forward. Her face was a millimeter away from his foreskin, hesitating, allowing him to feel her breath on him. She stuck out a tongue and licked him. Lilia got up onto her knees and kissed it, gently with her lips, and then backed away to see Mathias' reaction.

"You made the sun rise and set for fair Lilia here," said Mathias. "You'll have to do the same for me if you wish a taste. And it'll take more than a simple stroke for me, I'm afraid; I have a high threshold for pleasure. However, if you allow yourself to see it, we are not so different. The bead of pleasure, that tiny nub between your lover's legs that you so lavishly caressed with your tongue; imagine that it is grown large and erect. Imagine how you would hold it, stroke it, and kiss it, and do the same of me."

Gemra tried her best to imagine the engorged cock on her lover. She kissed the bottom, the side, and then wrapped her lips around the head. Her tongue danced over the head of it, which seemed to receive the desired reaction from Mathias. She released it from her mouth and pointed it at Lilia, who took just the tip of it between her lips, and began tonguing him.

Meanwhile, Gemra kissed the side, and her hands massaged his inner thighs. Up and down along the shaft she began to move her lips, while Lilia began taking it deeper and deeper into her mouth.

Mathias wanted to grab them, to guide them, but with his hands bound above him, he was helpless to stand and watch on the edge of pleasure, resigning to linger there a while longer before releasing his seed. Gemra and Lilia began kissing him more fervidly, passing the head between their mouths, kissing along the sides to the bottom, and nuzzling their faces in his sack. Having reached too far, Gemra chocked on the cock in her mouth, releasing it with strings of her saliva dripping onto it down to Lilia's face. Lilia began massaging and sucking his testes, taking note his gasps of pleasure.

Their stimulation of him became more intense, wrapping either side of him between their lips while they moved up and down his length, enjoying the many ways they could toy with him. "I will come soon," he gasped.

They slid up to the head and shared a kiss, with the tip caught between their wrestling tongues. All four of their hands began to jerk him until a fountain of white sap coursed between their lip-locked embrace. They continued to kiss while jets of his come filled their mouths and dripped to Gemra's tits.

Mathias, red in face and chest, stood covered in sweat while his captors fell back onto the floor. They seemed to enjoy the taste of him as much as each other; Lilia even sucked the last of it from Gemra's neck and nipple.

On the floor, they finished their embrace with a long kiss, which formed a string of Mathias' sap as they broke away. "Satisfied?"

"Not nearly as you, I expect," retorted Gemra, playfully.

"That was odd. You seemed to enjoy yourself. You spoke of your horn as though it were a source of pleasure, akin to the clitorus," Lilia pondered.

"Of course! Do you not believe men capable of orgasm?"

Lilia blushed shyly, "Well, I thought it was but a tool of procreation, not recreation. It is rather large and awkward, how do you ever wear breeches without constantly arousing yourself?"

"You really know so little of men? I saw none in your company so far, are there solely women in these woods?"

"Not just the woods," answered Gemra, "The whole kingdom. Only the Breeder, our father, is a cock, and I'd just as likely say he's an it rather than a he."

"You are sisters?"

"Gemra and I?" Lilia looked at her lover and laughed. "Well I supposed if having the same breeder makes it so, perhaps. Though I love her differently than my true-sisters."

"Your culture is quite fascinating. 'Tis a shame I likely wont live to discover its secrets."

Gemra smirked, "Indeed, a shame, we'll miss toying with you. But perhaps Kairie will have her way."

"Kairie? The warrior who spared me? Who is she?"

"The youngest of the Chieftess' daughters. She seems to think we might have use of you; time will tell."

"You've had use of me already."

Gemra feigned offense as she donned her brassiere, "And here you were trying to convince us that cocks actually experience pleasure like we do! I'd say you like being used."

"I'd rather say I like to be of use. I gave you my gift, now you owe me one in kind."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I wish to speak with this Kairie. Bring her to me, and the debt is squared."

Gemra chuckled and took her lover by the hand, "Come Lilia, the prisoner has made his demands."

Lilia turned to Mathias before exiting the cage, and memory of their kiss returned to her mind. Shyly she looked into his eyes; they seemed as if to be peering into her very soul. She quickly looked away and followed Gemra outside.