Message-ID: <25073asstr$963148207@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000708083250.29315.qmail@nym.alias.net> From: Delta <delta@nym.alias.net> Subject: {ASSM} RP "A Question of Honour" by Delta 5\5 (MF) Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 09:10:07 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25073> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, IceAltar RE Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by E-mail at: delta @ nym . alias . net Comments and critizisms are welcome. Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No place or event described within exists outside of the writer's imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs, or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author. Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which they reside are asked to please pass by. Delta. A QUESTION OF HONOUR Chapter 5 Riltan hummed softly as he skinned the ungulate which he had shot. Next to him Lere watched carefully, knowing that he would have to learn this skill. Sure enough, Riltan motioned him to take over. Riltan guided Lere's hand for the first few strokes, then sat back to allow the boy to find his own rhythm. The sun warmed him and he thought about how beautiful life could be. He had never imagined anything like this at all. From having nothing at all, he had suddenly come into a windfall - a family: a beautiful mate who made the nights a joy, a boy to whom he could impart the things he had learned and . . . and Iro. Iro he couldn't quite place yet. She seemed a creature of moods, one who could swing wildly from one to another without apparent cause. And sometimes she gave him the most curious looks - mainly when she didn't think he was looking, yet sometimes when he obviously was. Iro was a mystery to him, yet it did not stop him from enjoying her company - even though they could barely communicate at all. Of the four of them, Iro's signing was the most rudimentary. It didn't matter, of course. Soon they would be in H'Las and learning the language there. Riltan looked up to watch Lere's progress. He was doing well for one of so little experience. Riltan leaned forward and corrected a small fault in Lere's technique, feeling good as he did so. It was good to be able to pass on some of the things he had learned, to instruct Lere, to see him grow more competent with each day and to know that it due in no small part to his teaching. Life was good. Lere finished and began cutting up the meat as Riltan had instructed him before. The meat would be dried and used as rations for their trek to H'Las. Soon they would have enough food to begin the journey, or so he told himself. In fact, the food they had would be more than adequate. He, however, wished a greater variety, or so he told himself. Though Riltan had not yet formally broached the subject of leaving with Takene, he knew she would agree. They couldn't stay here, and there was nowhere else for them to go. He would bring it up to her soon, he decided. The only thing stopping him was the joy he felt in this place, the only place he had ever thought of as 'home'. It would be difficult to leave, no matter how necessary. He breathed in deeply of the forest's scent and felt at peace. Broaching the subject of leaving with Takene could wait another day. Meanwhile . . . Riltan smiled again as he hummed, enjoying the buzzing of insects, the sporadic calls of the birds and the sun on his face. Life was good. "I think you are delaying on purpose." Iro had made up her mind to confront Takene about Riltan once again, but this time she was going at it from a different slant. Takene sighed as she prepared for yet another argument. She knew how Iro was impatient to complete the rites, and she agreed that the completion should come as soon as possible, yet to hurry was to invite disaster. "I'm not delaying, Iro. I'm waiting for the moment which promises the best chance of success." Or was she? Was Iro right? Was she enjoying the nights with Riltan so much that she was putting off discussing with him leaving for Slindaria? "How do you think my parents are feeling now, thinking that Lere and I are dead?" "I think they'll be happier waiting a little longer to be proven wrong, than to be proven right, Iro. And if we move too soon the odds are we will indeed end up dead. But it isn't your parents you are thinking of, is it?" Iro flushed, caught on that point. "Okay, maybe not, but until we get back, I'll be unable to complete the rites." She paused, and Takene knew what was coming. "As long as you persist in saying that Riltan is unsuitable, that is." Takene groaned inwardly. Back to this again. "Why can't you just . . ." She couldn't even complete the sentence before Iro interrupted her. "I've been listening to you during the nights, you know." Now it was Takene who flushed and Iro, sensing an advantage, pressed forward. "You seem to be enjoying Riltan. You get up in the morning, looking very satisfied. I don't see any hints of mistreatment. Tell me, Takene, just what constitutes unsuitable? "From my studies it seems to me that Riltan is suitable. He is gentle, isn't he?" Frustrated, Takene could only nod. "He is skilled, isn't he - or is it that you are so horny that anyone could get you off." "Iro!" The word exploded out of Takene. "There is no call for that." "And there is no call to keep me waiting either. Tell me, Aunt," Iro said sarcastically, "just what about Riltan is unsuitable? Nothing, that's what." She answered her own question. At that moment they saw Riltan and Lere returning. "We'll continue this discussion later, Iro." "Yes, that's what you always say." Iro was angry. "Okay, Takene, we'll do it your way." She turned away, then turned back. "Just one thing, though . . ." "Yes?" "You are wrong, Takene. You are wrong." Iro turned away, leaving Takene frustrated and wondering if Iro were not correct. She turned, also, to contemplate this and, thus occupied, she failed to hear Iro come up behind her. "And Takene, you make such pretty sounds," Iro whispered in her ear. Takene was still blushing furiously when Riltan and Lere walked into the camp. As Iro had suggested, the nights with Riltan had been very enjoyable. And, again as Iro had suggested, he was gentle, very gentle. This gentleness had gone a far way towards allaying her fears and now he had only to touch her and she found herself moistening, getting ready for him. She had been right, as well. It had only become better. His skilled touch sent her spiraling upwards quickly, and her orgasms were becoming more powerful with each day. Takene grinned at the irony. She had been trying to gain his trust, and he had gained hers. The only difference between the two of them being that he had no ulterior motive behind his loveplay, while she did. Her smile faded. Yes, these past days had been good, very good, and she hated for them to end, yet end they must. Iro was right in one respect, in that she wasn't hurrying to push Riltan towards leaving. She sighed. It was time. Riltan's face suddenly filled her vision and she started. He grinned at her, knowing her mind had been elsewhere and that she had not seen him approach. <Good thoughts?> he asked. <Yes-No. You-me walk> she suggested. The slow smile that reached and encompassed his eyes thrilled her. Her intention to walk and talk would not end with that, she knew, as he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in to him. She shivered in delight and heard his soft chuckle at her reaction. Turning her head she looked up at his face. Gone completely was the chiseled look of the killer who she had first seen and feared. This was a different man, entirely, and would remain as such - as long as she didn't take him back into his old world. Her smile faded. That was something she couldn't avoid. The joy of the afternoon left her. Riltan sensed her change and stopped then turned to face her. His hand traced a pattern on her cheek as he looked deeply into her eyes. Could he sense the sadness there, she wondered. His fingers moved up to her forehead then came down gently over her eyes, closing them. Takene knew what was coming and lifted her head in preparation for the kiss. Instead she felt herself being roughly lifted and thrown over his shoulder. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped as he started off, jolting her with each step. "Put me down, you big oaf," she ordered him, beating futilely on his back. She knew he would understand. "Quiet, you!" he told her in her own language, his words heavily accented, and gave her a sharp slap on the rear. Riltan began humming happily as he strode along and Takene knew she was being carried off to be ravished. Excitement leaped within her. She considered her plight for a moment then, with a grin began to tickle him. Another sharp slap on her rear stopped her. "Ow. What was that for?" she asked plaintively, only to get another slap. "Quiet, you," Riltan chuckled, then spanked her once more for good measure. "Ow!" It didn't hurt as near as much as her cry suggested and he knew it. "Sorry." He sounded contrite, but wasn't. He started tenderly stroking her rear, soothing the hurt. "Oh my!" His stroking didn't stop at her slightly smarting ass cheeks, but delved in between her legs, and she parted them the small bit she could to give him a little more room. "Oh, yes." It felt very good. Soon, too soon, she was being lowered to the grassy ground. The last few centimeters she was simply dumped, then pushed back on her back before she could protest. His hands grasped her shirt and pulled it from her pants. Then he was astride her, pinning her arms to her sides with his legs and unbuttoning her shirt, paying no attention at all to her weak struggles to escape. Her shirt was open almost to the waist and his fingers roamed about her breasts, tweaking her nipples, caressing her bare skin. She groaned in pleasure, not wanting this to end. She wondered how far he would go in his pretense. A thought occurred to her. She had to know. "Riltan." She spoke sharply. He immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at her inquiringly. Satisfied, she simply stuck out her tongue at him. His low chuckle rumbled out and he bent over to kiss her. She closed her eyes and lifted her lips to him. When the kiss did not come she looked up. He looked cross. "Bad you!" he exclaimed. Takene was about to reply when his fingers dug into her ribs. She exploded in laughter and tried desperately to get away. No matter how she twisted and heaved she could not get away. He was just too heavy to move. "Good Takene," she finally gasped and he relented, pulling back up to look at her suspiciously. "Good Takene?" he questioned. "Good Takene," she confirmed, trying to look as meek as possible. He unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out. It was semi hard. "Good Takene?" he asked her again, his eyes narrow, doubting. As a reply she opened her mouth and ran her tongue around her lips and winked at him lasciviously. She could see him struggling to keep a straight face. Suddenly he looked angry, though his eyes were twinkling. He sat back in thought as he ran through his knowledge of her language. Finally he nodded to himself. "No. Bad Takene. To punish," he said sternly, and put his cock back inside his pants. "Punish?" Her voice quavered. "No. Good Takene," she protested. "Why would you wa - whoa!" He jumped off her, rolled her over on her face and straddled her again in one swift move. "Quiet you!" he ordered as he pulled her shirt halfway down her back, pinning her arms. He turned around to face her feet and pulled her legs up one at a time to remove her boots and socks. Then he began pushing her pants down, baring her buttocks. As they appeared he stopped and stroked them a bit before pushing her pants down to her knees. She felt his finger pushing between her thighs, touching her, pressing into her, and she groaned. Then it was gone and she felt the loss. She heard him sucking her juices off his finger and smacking his lips in approval. Suddenly he was off her and pulling at her pants roughly. She grabbed onto the grass to prevent herself from being dragged and her pants came off in short order. Then she was flipped over once more. She looked up through the wild mess that was her hair. He stood above her, looking grim. "Quiet you," he warned as she made to speak. "Bad Takene. To punish." He kicked softly at her feet. She got the message and spread her legs. He motioned for her to close her eyes, which she did. He kept her waiting only a few seconds. "Oh!" His mouth was at her sex, tongue lapping vigourously. Her eyes snapped open in surprise then languidly closed as the waves of pleasure began to wash through her. One finger entered her, then another and, as they slowly moved in and out, his tongue found and began to concentrate on her clit. Takene had been ready, very ready, for the sexplay and Riltan's tongue drove her relentlessly toward a powerful orgasm. She moaned and twisted, wished she could move her hands up to touch her breasts, yet the thrill of being held captive was delicious to her as well. Gods of the Skies and Trees! He was allowing her no time at all to get set; he was simply driving her from level to level, higher and higher. This would be no gentle, relaxing orgasm, but a sharp powerful one which would rock her very being. She dug her fingers into the earth as it began. Takene's legs pushed her lower body up as the orgasm took hold. They held there for a long moment, with Riltan still flicking away, before collapsing back down. Her breath came in ragged gasps and a moan of joyful despair issued forth as she realized that he was not going to let her rest at all, but was pushing her back up to the heights once more. Takene clenched her jaw as her body, in an amazingly short period of time, spiraled up to the threshold of her second orgasm. She was panting through her teeth, then her breath held as she came to the point of orgasm and . . . and he stopped, leaving her there on the edge. "Bad Takene?" his voice was a mixture of laughter and exertion. "Good Takene," she wailed, her wail punctured by another gasp as he renewed his assault. It was too much and her body bent like a bow. Curled in a ball, her head resting on his lap, Takene slowly came down. Riltan continued stroking her, caressing her, talking softly to her in his own language. She felt blanketed by love and cherished by this man . . . her man. "You can punish me like that any time you want," she murmured as her energy began to return. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. He looked at a loss and she uncurled and repeated what she said in sign. He grinned at her. <Feel better?> <Feel beautiful> she replied. <Look beautiful> His eyes told her it was truth and she flung herself at him, covering his face with hundreds of little kisses, until he fell back with her on top of him. Then she was tearing at his clothes, pulling them off him roughly, making him as naked as she was. Successful, she paused. He was soft - not for long, she determined and, with a wicked grin, went down on him. In only moments he was stiffening nicely. It was payback time. Takene swirled her tongue around him, drawing out little gasps of pleasure, as she pumped him with her hand. She was determined to drive him as he had driven her and employed every trick at her command. It worked and it was now Riltan who was gasping for breath. Now he was poised on the brink and it was she who suddenly stopped. She looked up at him, eyes twinkling, and asked, "Takene Good?" Riltan's eyes focused on her and he moaned his agreement, "Takene Good, Takene much good." Satisfied, Takene moved to complete him. Within a minute Riltan groaned loudly and came, his body bucking up then falling back. She continued to suck and lick until he was finished, then moved up and lay next to him, basking in the sun. It was finally time to leave and the two lovers reluctantly donned their clothes. Riltan looked around sadly. Takene watched him expectantly. There was something on his mind. <Time leave soon> he signed. Takene nodded, pleased that he had brought it up. Now, however, it was going to get a little tricky. He was so happy here, so unlike what he had been when they had met, that she was loathe to do anything to ruin it. <Yes. Children must go-to parents> she replied. Riltan looked shocked. <Parents? Parents not dead?> <No. Parents not dead> <Where?> A sickly pall of knowing settled on his features. "Slindaria," she said quietly, wincing as the reality of the situation came upon him, twisting his face. "Slindaria," he whispered hoarsely. <Yes. You take us, yes?> Takene had to look away. The horror in his eyes was too much for her. It had to be done, she tried to convince herself, yet nothing would wipe the memory of that look from her mind. Could anything be worth doing that to another? She turned back. He was still in shock. <You take us, yes?> she repeated, feeling her stomach twist even as she did so. He was shaking, his hands trembling uncontrollably, as he answered. <You must not ask> he pleaded. <We go H'Las, yes? Better. We go H'Las, please?> <Can't. Children must go-to parents. I must take them. Duty. I go-to Slindaria. You help?> Riltan's face collapsed. "Wasteland," he whispered in horror. <Can't> he signed and turned away, tears flowing freely from his eyes and down his face. Riltan stumbled, as if he were no longer able to see well, and Takene, a lump in her throat, moved to his side and placed her arm around his waist. Together, and in silence, the unhappy couple returned to the camp. Riltan was sunk in the miasma of his thoughts. She didn't know what she was asking. She couldn't know. Slindaria. The Wastelands. This couldn't be asked of him. All the joy of the day was dead. He loved her, them. They couldn't ask this of him. He would die for them - gladly - but to go back, no. No, he wouldn't, couldn't. Didn't they know what it would do to him? He lowered his head and held it in his hands. Slowly he began rocking back and forth, seeking comfort in the movement. Life was not good. "What have you done?" Iro hissed at Takene. Lere stood by, unsure of what was happening, knowing only that something was terribly wrong. "Only what you asked of me, Iro. Only what duty demanded of me. I quit stalling. I asked him to help us get back to Slindaria." Takene was subdued. She had grossly underestimated how Riltan would react to her request. His pain tore at her insides and it was all she could do to keep herself from running to him, from telling him that it was okay, that they would go to H'Las with him. "I never asked you to do that. Look at him. I never asked you to do that to him." Iro turned and walked away. Takene smiled grimly, bitterly. Iro wasn't ready yet to face up to her responsibilities. She would learn. She would have to. For the present, however, Iro could run. She couldn't. Takene made her way over to where Riltan sat and knelt beside him. She put her arm around him. Riltan jumped up as though scalded. He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. She stood and made to speak but he threw up his hand, stopping her. He looked at her a long moment before turning and walking out of the camp. Takene hugged herself and bent over, bitter tears falling from her eyes. She felt so very alone. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She stumbled over to her bed, their bed, and fell onto it, curling into a tight ball, the pain overwhelming her. Hours later, in the early hours of the morning, just before sunrise, Riltan returned. Takene looked up at him with eyes darkened from a sleepless night. He sat down tiredly. Takene noticed that his eyes were now guarded and his face betrayed nothing. She waited, knowing that he would speak when he was ready. Finally he was ready. <I help, yes. I go, no. It rain soon. You wait. Leave when rain come. I draw map, tell you how best to go, help pack.> <Thank-you> Takene signed. Riltan shrugged and lay down to sleep. Takene lay down next to him and put her arm around him. He neither moved away nor took her arm to hold. In the days which followed, as they waited for the rain, Riltan was as good as his word. He worked tirelessly to prepare the three for the journey to come. He spent hours explaining the best routes to take in order to avoid contact with the occupants of the Wastelands, spared no effort in the drawing of his maps or in the practice sessions he held for loading and unloading the pack animal. Speed was of the essence he told them time and time again. No one moved during the rainy days - which could last a week or a day - and water would be plentiful. The more distance they covered during this time, the better their chances were. Once the rains stopped, they would be slowed considerably and water would become a problem. Keep the pack animal as long as it was of value, but the moment it began to consume more than it was worth - dispose of it. Best to kill it, but if they couldn't bring themselves to do that, then just let it go. It might survive and find water, it might not. To Takene alone he gave the advice to be ruthless towards any they might meet. Just kill them where they stand, he told her, knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to do that. Their best protection would be lack of knowledge of their presence. The more people that knew they were there, the greater the chances of someone hunting them. Then, at last, it was all done. Preparations had been completed. all they needed now was the rain. There was a tension in the camp - the knowledge that the parting of ways was coming pervaded everything and no one could relax. It was the waiting out of a lingering death. Even Iro ceased her campaign to have Riltan as her first man. His gloom made it uncomfortable to be around him. Though Takene still shared his bed, Iro knew that they no longer made love. There were no sounds from them at night. This was not what she had wanted. She knew of the necessity of getting to Slindaria, and quickly at that, yet a part of her wanted to go with Riltan to H'Las. Lere was hit hardest. He couldn't understand why they were to separate, why his only adult friend would be lost to him. He moped around the camp feeling that all the others had betrayed him. She was being shaken. Takene's eyes opened to the predawn gloom. She looked up at Riltan, her eyes questioning. <Listen> he signed. She concentrated and off in the distance she heard it then, thunder. The rains were coming. She turned back to Riltan, but he was gone, waking Lere and Iro. There was urgency in the air. She made a quick breakfast as Lere and Riltan loaded the pack animal. The sun didn't rise. The morning light showed banks of clouds in the distance, grey and menacing. The rains would be there late this day or perhaps the next. It was time to go. Riltan led the way to the dry creek bed. He stopped at its edge, unwilling to even set foot on it. He looked out in the direction of the clouds. <Not too late. H'Las there> he pointed. Takene sighed. <Can't. Duty> She gave a half smile. <Not too late. Come?> Riltan looked down. <Can't> He kicked at his boot. <Go. Go quickly. Go carefully. Go now.> Takene nodded, then stepped up to him and hugged him tightly. She felt the return hug almost squeeze the breath out of her. Too soon, much too soon it was over. <Thank you for my life> she signed, then turned and led her charges across the dry creek bed. Riltan watched them for a moment, then turned. Soon there would be water rushing here, making it impossible to cross. He walked away, holding back the tears which he would not recognize, would not allow. He arrived back at the camp, deciding that he would wait out the rain before moving on. The morning drifted into the afternoon and the afternoon into evening. The camp was empty. Empty of people, empty of life and empty of the joy which had once been. He couldn't stay. He would leave the next morning, walk on through the rain. Anything was better than staying here. He began to pack. The morning came, grey and cool. Riltan made a quick breakfast and shouldered his pack. It felt strange to be traveling again, stranger still not to be carrying his shoulder weapon, but he had decided that Takene would need it more than he. Riltan took one last look around and set out, not wanting to think of what this place had meant to him. It was over. It was all over. He came to the fork in the trail. To the right lay H'Las and a new life. To the left, the Wasteland. He gazed to the left a long time, wanting to go, knowing he could not. It was a question of survival. If he went, even if he lived, he died. Yet what was life without the one he loved? No. It was a question of survival. Cross the creek bed, follow the others, and the one he would become would not be welcomed by those he went to help. The one he had become, with their help, would die in there. It was a question of survival. Riltan gave a long sigh and shifted the weight on his back. His foot hit the creek bed even as the first drop of rain hit his wide brimmed hat. The first step was hard, the next a little easier, then he was hurrying. It was, he decided, a question of honour. End of "A Question of Honour" by Delta. delta @ nym . alias . net -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+