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Message-ID: <31743asstr$996480601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Repost: Chosen (MF, FF, cons, spirit, outdoors, exh)
Date: Mon, 30 Jul 2001 04:10:01 -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

I wrote "Chosen" an eternity ago. Some of you might remember its first
posting back in the summer of 1998. Seems like an eternity, anyway.
I still don't know what it means entirely, three years later, but now
seemed like the right time to repost it.

This is the original text, errors included. I only messed with the
format, and this preamble -- adding a reference to my website, which
didn't exist in the summer of 1998, and cleaning up the title a little.

Please don't redistribute or repost this work in any format without
written permission from the author.

As usual, this story contains scenes with erotic imagery. This may
include depictions of nudity, human sexuality, outdoor
settings, spirituality, and all sorts of other wonderful activities that
may offend the moral minority. I have no idea what the moral minority
would be doing reading anything here, but consider yourself warned.

On the other hand, my descriptions of human sexuality aren't nearly as
graphic as some around here. We are all blessed with an imagination,
and sex is much more than slippery hydraulics. At least to my
characters it is. And so, if you are looking for detailed descriptions
of pussies and penises, there are many "stories" lurking about that
can do that. Consider yourself warned.

Comments are always welcome.

If you are still with me, read on.
- Crimson (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Crimson_Dragon/www
http://members.tripod.com/files/Authors/Dr/wwwagon_Of_Crimson

========================================================================

Chosen [MF, FF, cons, spirit, outdoors, exh]

========================================================================

By Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

(c) June 1998
All rights reserved

========================================================================

As she stared intently into the crackling flames, she felt the 
stirrings of the spirits as though they had awakened only for her 
senses. She rose slowly to her bare feet, the wonders of life rushing 
through her. She was named, in the tongue of the ancients, Fawn of the 
Moonlight Rising. It was a good name, a powerful name. She was born 
the chieftain's only daughter and he had named her.

Her appearance was unusual at the fire. She rarely deigned to 
participate in the tribal meetings; she always caused a rippling of 
conversation and distraction merely by her presence and it was not 
necessary that she be there. Tonight, she felt compelled. The spirits 
had called her at last, as the full moon rose brightly over the 
treetops. It was her time.

She was the first and only fair-haired child in living memory. Her 
golden hair marked her a goddess to some, though she knew that she was 
not. Her tanned skin flickered in the dancing illumination of the 
flames. It would be this night, she could feel it deep in her soul. 
She had waited twenty winters and summers for this evening. The 
spirits buoyed her as her body gently moved to the rhythms of the 
ancient dance. She moved slowly and sensually around the fire, 
twisting her body, her fair hair flowing about her shoulders like the 
gentle rapids in the river over the hill. Her bare feet whispered 
across the sand. The mists and the smoke swirled around her whirling 
form transforming her from woman to an opaque goddess of the night. 
Entranced, the shadowy figures gathered around the communal fire 
watched her as she moved revealing her soul. She carried the precious 
stone of the dance, its deep blue fire burning coolly against her 
fingertips. She didn't know who the stone would pick for her, but she 
knew whoever it was would be forever her soulmate. Her Chosen. It was 
the way.

***

Bree zipped her pack closed with a sigh. Dave had told her to pack 
light, and truthfully she had. It was just that it was her debut on 
the camping scene, and she didn't quite know what she would need, 
therefore she needed to pack for every eventuality. It didn't make it 
any easier that she didn't know what the sleeping arrangements would 
be, and she was too afraid of being presumptuous to ask. All she knew 
was that she was heading to an old abandoned tree farm that Dave's 
family had owned for generations. It was only for one night, she 
reminded herself. She thought that she could handle one night in the 
semi-wilderness.

After she had patted the bulging pack, she settled herself onto the 
edge of the bed. She opened her nightstand drawer and let her fingers 
slide slowly over the satin buried within like treasure. She'd bought 
the satin teddy for tonight. At the time, she'd thought that she'd be 
alone with Dave here, not out in some mosquito infested wilderness. 
Worse, Chet and Natasha would be there. She didn't want the first time 
with Dave to have an audience. Much as she liked Chet, it just didn't 
seem right. Not at all. And she had never even met Natasha. Even if 
they weren't all sharing a single tent, there would only be a thin 
layer of nylon between her and the world. And she knew that she wasn't 
the quietest lover in the world.

She took a deep breath and closed the drawer without removing the 
teddy. Dave hadn't known what he was giving up when he had suggested 
the camping trip. She sighed and felt the tingles begin as her 
thoughts turned to Dave. She'd only been dating him for three weeks, 
but he was the one. She felt it deep in her heart. He was her 
soulmate.

She was hunting through her jewelry box when she heard the quick beep 
of the horn from below. She quickly grabbed some gold sleepers and her 
sapphire ring from the box without further thought. The box snapped 
shut as she hurried towards the window. If he was taking her to the 
middle of nowhere, he'd have to put up with her the way she was. No 
fancy makeup. No fancy jewelry. She slipped the ring over her right 
ring finger and was pushing the earrings into her ears as she lifted 
the window sash. Another quick beep of the horn sounded from below.

"Hold your shorts," she called laughingly down to Dave as she leaned 
out the window. "I'm coming already." She thought she heard something 
suspiciously sounding like "typical female" emerge jokingly from his 
lips as she shut the window with a bang.

Dave smiled up at the window as it rattled closed and began walking to 
the front door. She picked up her pack and began to walk quickly out 
of the room. She hesitated at the doorway and then turned, running 
back to her nightstand. She lifted the new fabric from its hiding 
place and pushed it into the pack. Typical female, indeed, she thought 
to herself as she thundered down the stairs to greet Dave properly.

***

"Chet and Natasha are going to meet us there?" she asked quietly into 
the silence of the car.

"Yeah," Dave replied, glad of having something to say finally. The 
drive so far had been quiet. Awkwardly so. Normally, the two of them 
talked easily, but Bree seemed preoccupied with something, her 
thoughts elsewhere. He continued, "They couldn't meet with us. Natasha 
had something to do. I don't know. Chet said they might even arrive 
before us."

"What's she like?" she asked.

"Pretty. Dark hair. Tall. Nice figure. But I didn't notice. Chet told 
me." Dave grinned knowing he was in trouble for the description. 
"Chet's pretty head over heels for her."

Bree flushed, feeling slightly jealous as Dave described Natasha. Chet 
she had known for years, and she could see him head over heels with 
almost anyone. He fell for the ladies hard. In fact, every girl but 
her. And Natasha seemed like his type, at least physically.

"I meant, is she nice? Will I get along with her?" Bree bristled a 
little despite her attempt to keep her voice under control.

"Hey. I'm sorry," Dave was quick to pick up on Bree's tones. "I 
haven't met her more than once myself. I don't know. If not, it's only 
one night." Dave replied a little defensively.

Bree took a deep breath. She didn't want to fight with Dave. This was 
supposed to be a fun trip. She just didn't like long car rides and she 
was feeling some of her childhood motion sickness returning. It nagged 
at her like a mosquito bite. Not serious, but annoying.

She spoke quietly in apology, "I'm sorry, Dave. I ... I guess I'm just 
tired."

She leaned over the console, stretching her seatbelt between her 
breasts and kissed Dave lightly on the cheek.

He smiled and flicked on the indicator. Concentrating on the road, he 
failed to notice the silence descend onto the interior of the car 
again. Bree fought with her impulse to ask about the tenting 
arrangements, but didn't quite allow herself to inquire. She was sure 
that it would be comfortable enough. Dave was usually thoughtful of 
her privacy. She'd find out soon anyway. Patience wasn't her strong 
suit, though. She sat still, fighting down the faint nausea. The farms 
whisked by them as the miles droned on.

***

They arrived in the early afternoon. The car pulled into an isolated 
driveway throwing up dust in a huge white cloud. Bree had long ago 
closed her eyes and cracked her window in a vain attempt to clear her 
system. The nausea had increased to a throbbing sensation deep in her 
stomach. It was all she could think about. All she wanted was to stop 
and breathe fresh air, make the nausea stop. She felt like she was 
five again, afraid to ask her father to stop the car, afraid of being 
sick in front of people, afraid of being weak. She especially didn't 
want to be sick in front of Dave. It was childish. She knew Dave would 
understand, but she was determined to fight it anyway.

The car finally stopped and she opened her eyes. She immediately 
closed them again as a wave of dizziness crept over her. A voice that 
seemed miles away was calling her.

"Bree? Bree? Are you alright? Oh my God. Bree?"

She struggled to open her eyes again. Dave was peering at her, concern 
across his features. She licked her lips and nodded slowly. She had to 
tell him now.

"Just. A. Bit. Of. Motion. Sickness," she spoke slowly and quietly. 
She fought down the next wave of nausea. As it passed, her fingers 
scrabbled at the door catch. The door opened as she pushed it and she 
swung her legs out, cradling her head in her hands and leaning 
forward. At least if she was sick it wouldn't be in Dave's car. She 
breathed deeply, drawing the fresh air deep into her lungs. She sensed 
forest, and grass, and light smoke. She felt the nausea receding a 
little. When she opened her eyes, Dave was crouched in front of her.

"What can I do? Why didn't you tell me stop?"

Bree struggled with the next wave; it washed over her like a strong 
surf. She finally managed a smile.

"I'm feeling better, now," she croaked out.

Dave didn't look convinced, but he extended his hand, helping her to 
her feet. Her blonde hair curled around her shoulders in the slight 
breeze as she stood. She swayed slightly on her feet, feeling woozy. 
But the fresh air and getting out of that car was helping.

She was standing near the edge of a small clearing. Two tire tracks 
led outward from the clearing, presumably the way they had entered. 
The forest surrounded them, tall pines and oaks all around them. Birds 
sang and chased through the trees. The air was crisp and clean, so 
unlike the city and campus she was used to. Her nausea receded a touch 
more.

"It's gorgeous," she breathed. She watched the smile break out on 
Dave's face and it warmed her a little to see it.

Turning, she saw two dome tents already set up. Chet was moving 
towards the arrivals, a big smile on his face. A tall, dark-haired 
girl, looking a little out of place, was standing next to a small fire 
feeding a small branch into the flames.

Chet barreled into Bree, almost knocking the wind out of her. She 
felt his arms squeezing her until she couldn't breathe. Finally, he 
released her.

"How's my Bree Cheese?" he greeted her enthusiastically. It had been a 
long time since they had seen one another. A year, at least.

God, she hated that nickname. She counted her lucky stars that at 
least Dave rarely used it. But Chet was all smiles, unaware of her 
distaste of what he considered a term of endearment. She caught her 
breath after the bear hug and managed to squeak out a few words.

"I ... you're damn lucky you didn't get my breakfast all over you," 
she tried to feign anger, not very successfully. Chet was like a huge 
teddy bear, impossible to get angry at, no matter what he did.

She was breathing hard, trying again to control the last vestiges of 
her motion sickness. It was going to take a while of stillness to calm 
this down completely, but she was reasonably sure that she would make 
it without being physically ill now that she was out of the car. She 
swayed again slightly, feeling dizzy.

Chet looked a bit worried and turned to Dave. "She sick?"

"Just a little motion sickness. She'll be alright," Dave answered 
quietly.

Bree felt like she wasn't even there with them talking about her. All 
she wanted was to sit down and let this pass. She had an almost 
irresistible urge to sit herself down right here in the grass of the 
clearing. She would be fine, but, irrationally, Dave speaking for her 
bothered her. Why hadn't Chet asked her? She was the sick one. What 
the hell did Dave know? She fought down her anger, convincing herself 
that it was harmless. It was just the way Chet was, and it was hardly 
Dave's fault that Chet had asked him about her. She shrugged inwardly. 
Try staying angry at Chet, at least for more than three seconds. 
Impossible.

Chet grinned and turned back to her. He was a solid man, and Bree 
wasn't the biggest girl in the world. Without warning, Chet swept her 
into his arms, easily bearing her weight.

Despite herself, Bree laughed as she was carried further into the 
clearing.

"What the hell are you doing?" she giggled up at Chet.

"Putting you to bed. You have to be awake and well for the campfire 
tonight."

"Christ. I can walk, you know. You big lummox," she again tried for 
feigned anger. She balled up her small hands and hit his chest, quite 
ineffectively. In truth, being carried actually helped. Standing on 
her own was causing light vertigo.

"I know," he replied as if her protests didn't matter. They probably 
didn't. This was Chet's chivalry. He was always doing stuff like this 
since they'd met when they were ten. Ten years ago. She'd known Chet 
for half her life already. Her mind wandered back. She'd hurt her leg 
in the schoolground, cut her ankle on some broken glass. Chet had 
carried her, just like this, back to the principal's office where 
they'd bandaged her up and called her mother. Chet had only moved into 
the neighbourhood a week previous. They hadn't known each other at 
all, yet he'd stayed with her until she'd been picked up by her 
mother. Her introduction to Chet, her bawling and him carrying her 
like she was a baby. She'd been thankful, then, too. Chet protected 
her like the sister he'd never had. They were both single children, 
and had naturally bonded. Though they'd moved apart a little over the 
years, she had always felt secure around him.

"May I present Natasha, the raven-haired beauty, whom you haven't had 
the pleasure of meeting yet?" Chet attempted an awkward bow, failing 
with Bree's weight in his arms.

Bree looked up. Instead of taking her to the tent, Chet had borne her 
to the small campfire. Bree took a deep breath, wishing she wasn't in 
Chet's arms for this, and extended her hand. Natasha looked a little 
nonplused about the introduction and Bree couldn't blame her. She'd 
be pissed off if Dave had introduced Natasha to her cradled in his 
arms. Natasha extended her hand and lightly gripped Bree's offered 
hand. Natasha's hand was cool and soft to the touch, imparting a 
certain strength. She didn't seem to be as upset as Bree would have 
been, had the positions been reversed. A strange tingle crossed into 
Bree's senses, almost like a spark from static electricity, as she 
released Natasha's fingers.

"Bree," Bree introduced herself. "Not like the cheese, no matter what 
this lunk might think."

Natasha smiled, flashing her white teeth. She didn't seem overly 
concerned about the situation, just a little shy. Perhaps fighting a 
bit of jealousy. Bree knew what it was like to have an old friend 
usurp a position of girlfriend, no matter how harmless or platonic it 
was. Bree hoped that this wasn't the beginning of trouble, despite 
Natasha's easy demeanor. Women sensed these things better than men - 
Chet being a case in point. She felt like pounding her small fists 
into him again for doing this to her. But again, the brief anger 
melted quickly as it always did.

"Bree isn't feeling well. Too much ride, not enough stops," Chet threw 
a glance over his shoulder at Dave who stood slightly behind looking 
helpless. Bree felt bad for the poor guy; it wasn't really his fault. 
She hadn't said anything to him, after all. He would have stopped for 
her.

Natasha nodded in an understanding way. The look on her face read like 
a book: and-that-is-why-you-have-to-be-in-my-boyfriends-arms? mixed 
with a small measure of concern. Bree felt like apologizing, even 
though she really hadn't asked for this and knew that all the 
squirming in the world wasn't going to get her out of Chet's arms, 
even had she the strength at the moment to squirm. She fought off 
another light wave of nausea by closing her eyes.

Chet, completely oblivious to the minor tension between the girls, 
hulked off towards the first tent bearing Bree easily. Dave unzipped 
the flap, and Chet deposited his charge on the double air mattress 
within.

"This is Dave's and your tent," he remarked unnecessarily. "Natasha 
and I set it up for you. Hope you like it."

She tumbled out of his arms with a faint "Oof". Dave was immediately 
beside her. Chet disappeared through the tent flap, his duty complete; 
she was safe.

"I'll be fine. I don't need to be in here. I can sit out by the fire," 
Bree protested weakly.

Dave touched her lips, shushing her.

"I wish you'd told me. I would have stopped for you," Dave was all 
concern for her.

"I know. I'm just an idiot. I guess I was embarrassed. I'm sorry." She 
felt like crying, could feel the stinging behind her eyes. It was a 
sudden sadness. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd hurt Dave in a 
small way, that she was sick, or something else completely. She 
controlled the tears before they surfaced.

"Nothing to be sorry about. Why don't you rest? I'll wake you later if 
you fall asleep," Dave promised.

She took stock of herself. She was feeling a lot better, her thoughts 
weren't only of her nausea. She could think enough to realize that she 
was tired. Her body ached strangely. She had a sense of change, of 
something life shattering about to happen. It crept around the 
periphery of her mind, like a ghost that she could see out of the 
corner of her eye, but couldn't focus on. Whatever it was, she knew 
she'd need her rest.

She lay back her head into the pillow and closed her eyes. She felt 
Dave kiss her cheek gently and she heard him closing the tent flap.

Mists, rhythmic music, and deer floated through the edges of her mind 
as she drifted blissfully into unconsciousness.

***

Bree awoke with a small scream. She clapped her hands over her mouth 
to stifle the next cry. She swallowed rapidly, calming her nerves. 
Vaguely remembered images floated through her fuzzy mind. Deer, mists, 
forest, sapphires. Some kind of music. And something else. That feeling 
of anticipation, of something impending, something out of her control. 
She shook herself. Just a dream.

It was dark. She inventoried herself again. No nausea - her sleep had 
banished it completely. Her mind seemed abnormally clear. She noticed 
a crimson glow against the front of the tent, flickering. The 
campfire, she supposed. In the dim light, she could see her pack and 
Dave's pack placed haphazardly against the tent wall to her right. She 
pressed the light on her watch.

No wonder she felt rested, she thought to herself. They'd let her 
sleep away the day and half the night. She felt alive and rested. And 
hungry.

She slipped out from under the sleeping bag someone had covered her 
with, noticing thankfully that she was still dressed, though somebody 
had removed her running shoes for her. She hunted around in the 
flickering light, mostly using her hands, and located her shoes by the 
front flap of the tent. She pulled them over her toes and laced them 
in the dark, her fingers tying the knots in the laces by habit. She 
slowly unzipped the tent flap.

Chet, Dave and Natasha were gathered around the fire quietly talking. 
Dave had a beer in his hand. They all looked up as she stumbled 
awkwardly out of the tent.

Dave rose, approaching to give her a hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked with concern in his face.

"I'm fine. Just hungry," she answered hesitantly. His concern wasn't 
completely warranted. She had just been a little motion sick. Why had 
they let her sleep so long? Not that she minded.

"We were worried about you. Christ, you gave us a scare."

"Scare? How?" she was baffled by his demeanor.

"Christ. You don't remember?"

"Remember what?" she was getting a little impatient at all of this. 
She just wanted something to eat, not some silly guessing game.

Chet approached as they walked slowly towards the fire.

Chet picked up the story. "You screamed around dinner time. And when 
Dave went to find out what was happening, you were crying. You don't 
remember?"

"No."

"You looked asleep. You were mumbling something about 'Moonlight 
Rising.' Or something like that," Chet continued. "You don't 
remember?"

She didn't remember anything. She'd been told by friends that she 
talked in her sleep. Perhaps that was it.

"I've been told I sometimes talk in my sleep," she explained.

"Who told you that?" Chet asked mischievously, breaking the tension.

She aimed a weak punch at his arm, and then grinned. "You did." She 
waited for the realization to hit Dave. Get him back for noticing 
Natasha's figure. Dave looked at Chet suspiciously and then realized 
it was a joke and laughed a little, but not much. He still looked 
worried about her.

"We figured that we should let you sleep," Dave remarked. "We didn't 
know what else to do."

Bree sat down on a log at the edge of the fire pit. She stretched her 
stiff body, extending her legs towards the fire. She felt sand under 
her running shoes. Dave and Chet left her, angling over to stir up a 
pot heating on a small camping stove. She was sure they were talking 
about her, but she couldn't make out their words. She turned away, 
trying to ignore the men.

Bree found herself staring at Natasha while she waited for her dinner. 
She was a stunning girl, no wonder Chet was taken with her. She did 
have a nice figure. Long legs. Raven black hair. And her features were 
strong and sure. She looked away as Natasha returned the gaze briefly, 
catching her staring.

"You feeling better?" Natasha asked kindly.

"A lot better. These guys been boring you?" Bree responded.

"Not really. Telling me about their childhood. Yours as well. At least 
Chet has been."

"I wasn't the terror they like to make out," Bree grinned at the other 
girl.

"I figured." Natasha smiled. She poked at the fire with a long stick. 
Sparks flew up into the night. Although the conversation was strained, 
it was only because they really didn't know one another. Natasha 
seemed pleasant enough. Chet sweeping Bree off her feet earlier seemed 
to have been forgiven, for now. Bree consciously made a decision to 
try and avoid another incident that might be taken badly. She didn't 
want tension between herself and Natasha. At least not out here where 
neither of them had anywhere to go.

Chet handed a bowl and a spoon to Bree. She smelled the beans and 
thought that it was typical of Dave. Go camping and eat beans. She 
would have bet that Dave had planned this menu. Beans and camping had 
to go together. What she wouldn't have given for a medium-rare filet 
mignon. She shook her head slowly, but dug into the dinner anyway. Her 
stomach rumbled as she ate methodically, her belly filling quickly. 
The beans were actually decent and assuaged her hunger.

After she finished, she set aside the bowl and watched the fire. The 
conversation droned on around her. She wasn't really paying attention 
or participating. Her mind inexplicably wandered to her sleeping 
arrangements. She was going to share a tent with Dave. It had been a 
while since she'd shared a bed with anyone, platonic or otherwise. 
She tried to calm her nerves. She had brought the teddy after all, and 
just the thought of the soft fabric against her bare skin was sending 
shivers down her body. She doubted if she'd wear it tonight. Not 
unless Chet and Natasha left the campsite for a midnight stroll or 
something. She knew that she couldn't keep herself quiet. Dave was 
probably going to lose out tonight, but at least he didn't know. She 
found herself feeling a little disappointed herself. Her mind imagined 
his fingers tracing her nipples, despite her struggle to tear herself 
from these daydreams. Her breath began to become more laboured and she 
snatched her hand away from herself as she felt it creep unconsciously 
towards her breast. She wasn't alone here, she gently chastised 
herself.

Someone had set up a small portable stereo. Celtic music issued forth 
from it gently into the night. The sounds of the music and fresh air 
and the droning of the conversations lulled her. Her mind kept 
wandering. Her mind formulated unbidden images of her making gentle 
love by the fire. Tingles flowed insistently through her body. She 
sighed. This was going to be a long weekend.

She snapped her eyes open as she felt a faint breeze on her face. Dave 
was waving his hand in front of her.

"Bree?"

She gasped, "What? You frightened me." She fought against a slight 
dismay that surfaced. He had interrupted a particularly vivid vision 
of herself kneeling naked by the fire. She swallowed heavily hoping 
that she wasn't as flushed as she felt.

"You haven't said a word in an hour. Are you alright?" he asked.

She struggled to temper herself. The tingles were increasing. She 
couldn't stop thinking about touching him. Touching herself. Mists. 
Deer. And deep music. And Dave was right there. All she had to do was 
reach out with her fingers. Touch him. She had to pull herself out of 
this.

"I'm fine. My mind is just wandering. Just relaxing. Don't worry about 
me," she struggled to find the concentration to speak. "That's what we 
are here for, right? To relax?"

He nodded, apparently satisfied. She raised herself to sit back up on 
the log. After a moment, she glanced around at the others. Chet had 
his arm around Natasha. Dave sat on the other side of the flames from 
Bree, quietly talking about something and sipping at his beer, 
relating that old story about the ski trip, or the playground. She 
couldn't concentrate. Couldn't understand his words. The crackle of 
the fire seemed abnormally loud and intense, the soft music was 
filling her senses like a sensual symphony.

Suddenly, she felt them. The full moon was rising just above the tree 
tops and she felt them. Whispers inside of her. Instinctively she knew 
that she'd always been meant to be here. Destiny had found her, and 
she welcomed it with open arms. Her heart soared as she realized that 
tonight was the night. Her time.

A young deer stepped out from the trees. It's liquid trusting eyes 
took in the campsite and focused on Bree. Mesmerized, she watched it. 
The conversation died on the lips of the others. Only the haunting 
notes of the Celts broke the silence of the glade. Even the crickets 
had ceased their night trilling. Tentatively, the small deer stepped 
out, and stumbled carefully to Bree. She instinctively held out her 
hand, and the deer gently licked her. In a flash, it turned tail and 
bounded out of the clearing.

Bree turned, surprised that she wasn't speaking and excitedly sharing 
the experience with the others. Her experience with wildlife extended 
to seeing the odd squirrel in the city and the odd scraggly bear in 
the zoo. The deer was almost magical to her. Chet and Dave were 
watching dazed into speechlessness. Natasha sat in wonder, her brown 
eyes taking in the magic in stunned silence.

As the deer vanished into the night, the mist began as thin tendrils, 
almost like smoke rising from the ground. It was a light mist, far 
from a fog. It covered the ground like a white blanket, as if magic 
was materializing in the air itself. It scented vaguely of incense and 
cinnamon. Bree breathed in deeply, feeling the changes in her, the 
emotions suddenly flooding her like a small dam had broken in her 
heart.

Her hands, still in her lap, were shaking. A sudden sense of 
apprehension and anticipation gripped her. The deep blue of her 
sapphire ring pulsed in the firelight. The others were watching her 
without fright but with a sense of awe. She felt like a million 
people, her senses heightened, her being complete. She felt like a 
goddess.

Slowly she stood, feeling the rhythm of the notes falling through the 
night like a beckoning. She felt her body pulse in time with the notes 
and with the blue stone on her finger. She closed her eyes, feeling 
the presence of so many more than just Chet and Dave and Natasha. She 
felt like she was outside of herself, watching intently as she began 
to move to the rhythms of the night.

The smoke and the mist swirled about her body as she slowly moved to 
the ancient cadence. The unknown movements of the dance flooded her 
senses. As she made her first circuit of the fire, she felt herself 
kicking off her shoes and pulling off her socks with her toes. She had 
to feel the earth, the sand beneath her bare feet. Sighing, she 
continued. The others were captivated by her movements, her 
expressions. Somehow they all knew that this night would forever 
change their lives.

She felt the presence of the fawn as she whirled around the fire, her 
feet daintily prancing through the sand. Laughing, she stood in front 
of her place, facing outwards towards the forest. She felt free, 
alive. She had never felt anything like this before. Slowly her 
clothing peeled from her body. She wanted nothing to impede her 
tonight. Not even the denim of her jeans, not her sweater.

In her underclothing, she gyrated to the ancient beat, whirling her 
body with abandon, her bare feet light upon the sand. All of them 
watched: the fawn, the men and Natasha. Bree felt freedom, a sense of 
oneness with the land and with the air. Each dancing step sent shivers 
through her senses; each now familiar step causing her toes to lightly 
indent the sand. The ring on her finger pulsed again, throbbing in 
time with the drums, throwing its own muted light into the night.

She halted again on the far side of the fire. Her skin was bathed in 
perspiration from her dancing. Her breasts rose and fell with her 
breathing. Too constricted. Not right. She felt her fingers releasing 
her bra and her panties as though they no longer belonged to her. The 
fawn watched as she stripped off the last of her modesty, the last of 
her covering, the last of her restrictions.

Slowly she gathered up her clothing and walked towards the fire. She 
could feel the heat of the fire like a million candles burning gently 
against her naked skin. Head bowed, she whispered to herself in 
ceremonial tongue, a language as old and honoured as time itself. She 
had no knowledge from where it emerged from within her mind, it was 
simply there. As the desires flooded over her, she dropped the fabric 
of her clothing into the fire. Like a living sacrifice, the fire 
consumed her coverings, freeing her from hiding. She felt a vague 
regret at the loss of her clothing, but her loss was quickly replaced 
by the feeling of the fire close against her skin, mimicking the fires 
burning deep inside of her being.

Visions flashed through her mind. Mists. Dave. Deer. Chet. Music. 
Natasha. She dropped to her knees in front of the fire, her arms 
raised in supplication, her face turned to the heavens. Bree felt the 
shivers intensify. The tremors raced through her bared body, starting 
at the tips of her breasts tingling continuously down her spine to 
throb insistently between her thighs.

She lowered her hands, her ring burning bright blue on her finger. She 
gazed into the cool blue flames and gently removed the ring. Holding 
it in her small fingers she rose slowly back to her bare feet. She 
pictured the image she presented across the fire, her nudity not 
bothering her as it should. The heat in her breasts was mirrored by 
the flickering light of the bonfire. The crimson heat lit her bare 
body like she was aflame. She felt like she was in flames, the pain of 
her desire drumming within her.

She took them in. Dave. Chet. Natasha. All staring at her. All knowing 
that her fate lay in the stone, the dance and the night. All accepted 
that destiny without understanding the power behind it. The fire 
flared in front of her, obscuring the others. She fought down her fear 
and slowly stepped one bare foot into the flames. It was part of the 
dance. She would be protected. She knew. Cleansed by fire.

She screamed involuntarily as her bare toes stepped into the fire, 
expecting the searing heat and agony of burning despite her inner 
certainties. The others watched, knowing that this was part of her 
transformation. Destiny was shifting tonight. They all felt it. The 
shadows wavered as though to absorb her pain. She stepped fully into 
the fire, arms outstretched, trusting the dance. Somewhere she could 
hear her mind screaming that she would die writhing in agony, and it 
balked at her movements into pure sensuality. No sound escaped her 
lips. She stood, a blue aura surrounding her being, beginning at her 
ring and extending like a shield encompassing her bare body. She 
didn't feel the agony of the heat, merely a pleasant warmth and an 
upwards wind. Her blonde hair rose in the updraft of the fire, but did 
not burn. She took a deep breath, and stepped out of the flames onto 
the other side of the fire. She felt renewed and cleansed.

She could see desire on the others' faces. Desire for her even 
reflected openly on Natasha's face. Her bare body began to move once 
more to the music. The ring pulsed between her fingers. She could feel 
the heat of the fire again, touching her skin, caressing her, the 
blue shield vanished like a night owl into the darkness. She shivered 
as more tingles of sensuality flowed through her being. She moved as 
the music took her. Dancing sensually for Dave, then Chet, then 
Natasha. Gender, race, ideology didn't matter to the stone. Only the 
soulmate. Only the Chosen.

She danced for them, releasing her soul into her movements, searching 
for something, searching for herself and one other. The shadows 
whispered, and the fawn watched.

Her bare feet halted themselves in front of Chet, her body still 
writhing to the rhythms. Images of Chet, of his kindness, of his 
friendship, of his charms flitted through her head. She knelt easily 
in front of him, offering him her ring. Offering him herself. The ring 
pulsed in time with the throb between her legs, and the beat of the 
music. The blue flame brightened slightly as it drew near him. She 
took in a great breath, fighting her emotions.

Her mind screamed out silently, "It should have been Dave." But 
tonight wasn't about what should have been. It was about destiny and 
about her innermost desires. It was about what was meant to be.

Chet, dazed by her presence and her magic, reached out and stroked her 
face. His fingers burned her skin, sending shivers down her heaving 
body. Great gulps of air entered her lungs as she struggled through 
her exertions. She knew without looking that her bare breasts were 
rising and falling rapidly with her struggle to get enough air.

He touched the ring.

The light from the ring muted slowly to darkness. The music and the 
mists rose up in a crescendo. Tears ran down Chet's face. Bree was 
unable to cry. Not yet.

"Bree, much as I desire you," Chet whispered, "you are not destined 
for me."

In that instant, she understood that Chet would forever be in her 
life, as a protector, as a brother, as a cherished friend. She loved 
him, and would always love him. But he was not her soulmate. Deep 
inside, she had always known that.

He took a deep breath, his face a mask of disappointment and pain. He 
released the ring which began to pulse and burn again with a renewed 
vigor. A tear managed to escape Bree's eyes as she gently kissed his 
cheek. She was not meant for Chet, no matter how much she may have 
desired him.

She forced her numbed mind back to herself. Dave. Why had she gone to 
Chet first? Dave was her soulmate. She was intending to share herself 
with him tonight. It must be him. The stone knew that.

She slowly danced to Dave's seat. The stone burned brightly as she 
knelt. Dave looked down at her, his face open in admiration of her. 
Her presence and her nudity worked their magic upon him. She was 
breathing heavily as she offered the ring and herself into his 
fingers. Visions of his naked body joined with her flitted through her 
mind. His easy manner, his light sense of humour. She flushed as 
visions of his love flowed through her. But her mind was troubled as 
she knelt. Doubts flowed through her, despite her attraction to him. 
She had only known him for three weeks. He was kind and considerate, 
but something was missing, wasn't it? Perhaps he didn't feel the same? 
But she wanted him. God, did she want him.

He hesitated, suddenly unsure of her. He reached forward, his fingers 
lightly grasping the ring. She held her breath as the light continued 
to shine forth from the stone. She opened her small mouth, her lips 
ready to pledge herself body and soul to him. But as the first sounds 
escaped her lips, the light extinguished abruptly.

Grief washed over him. His face collapsed as tears began to fall from 
his eyes. He'd lost her, forever. This goddess before him was not for 
his touch. And somehow, he knew. Somehow he'd always known. He wasn't 
ready for one such as she.

Bree had been so sure it was Dave. Who else was there in her life? How 
could he be transitory when she thought that she loved him? Unbidden 
tears rolled down her face as her emotions fought within her. She 
willed the stone to brighten, but it remained stubbornly dark in his 
grasp. Through the tears she felt the desire flowing through her bare 
body. She knelt quietly, soaking in her loss. Dave was wonderful, but 
he was too similar to her. She could love him, for a time, but the 
stone had known what she had not. She had been blinded by his 
unfamiliarity, blinded by young love and lust. She had wanted him here 
and now, not forever. He was not her soulmate, and never had been. She 
felt a deep sense of loss intermixed with a deep sense of relief. She 
knew that she had lost him forever. As he reluctantly parted his 
fingers from the ring, it shone again, brighter than before, urging 
her back to her bare feet.

Obeying the light, she slowly rose, unable to look at Dave. She slowly 
spun her body, the music beginning to recede. She swallowed, very 
unsure of the direction that this dance was taking her. She looked for 
comfort in the fawn. The fawn was watching intently, her nude dance, 
her indecision. She drew an understanding and strength from the 
creature of the forest. She struggled, knowing what she had to do, but 
unable to fully accept it. She wanted to cast away the ring, break the 
spell of the spirits. But she had to know. Her destiny was being 
formed tonight. If she cast away the sapphire into the fire, she would 
never know. She would regret it for the rest of her life. Regret what 
could have been.

She stopped in front of Natasha, her heart hammering in her chest. 
Fear graced Natasha's eyes, but she sat still, gazing at the petite 
blonde girl slowly kneeling in front of her, Bree's bare breasts 
heaving with her effort. Bree felt the ring shudder as she held it out 
to Natasha. She closed her eyes. Images of this unknown girl flooded 
through her. Images of soft pain comforted, an image of Natasha 
dancing naked as Bree was, her light laugh ringing through Bree's 
ears, images of her softly making love to Bree by the fire, images of 
sensuality, images of her friendship and her caring and her love, 
images of her being, images of her soul. Bree didn't know the girl 
before whom she knelt. Couldn't know her. But she could feel her. 
Touch the depths of her soul. She opened her eyes again, staring into 
Natasha's deep brown liquid eyes. Natasha took a deep breath and 
hesitantly touched the ring.

The explosion of light lit the clearing like a cool blue daylight. The 
fawn watched the light for a moment, turned and bounded into the 
forest, vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"Bree," Natasha whispered.

Slowly, the girls rose to their feet, fingers joined. The light from 
the sapphire was flooding the clearing. Dave and Chet both sat quietly, 
their eyes wet as they watched the girls walk slowly to the tent 
through the mists. Neither dreamed of stopping the females.

Bree lay back on the mattress, cherishing the softness against her 
skin. Desire and heat flooded through her as she watched Natasha 
slowly strip her clothing, tossing it carelessly into the corner of 
the tent.

Bree cried out at the first touch of Natasha's skin against her own. 
The softness, the sensual caresses of Natasha's breasts sent shivers 
down her body. The touch of Natasha's lips sent butterflies racing 
through her stomach. She kissed Natasha as though they were long lost 
lovers. Perhaps they were, from a different time, a different place. 
She felt Natasha's fingers caressing her, from the tips of her 
breasts to her sensitive bare toes. Then between her legs, entering 
her. Bree gasped, arching herself into the touch. She felt her own 
fingers exploring, touching Natasha's hot skin, stroking the hardened 
nipples, touching legs, back, breasts, face, hair. Natasha's hair 
smelled faintly of wood smoke and cinnamon as they embraced, entwined. 
The gentle voices whispered urgently in her mind.

She screamed as pleasure washed over her senses. She didn't care who 
could hear through the thin nylon of the tent. Natasha had worked 
around, gently kissing down her body until her tongue lightly stroked 
at Bree's sex, licking at her swollen clitoris. As Bree tried to 
control her scream, she opened her eyes, seeing Natasha above her. 
Encircling her slight waist, Bree pulled Natasha's sweetness to her 
mouth, mirroring the light touches that were building between Bree's 
legs. Natasha's scent and taste filled her like perfume, pushing 
Bree's arousal to a new level. Natasha cried out, pressing herself to 
Bree. The mist curled lightly into the tent as though to observe the 
passion it had wrought. The girls smelled the headiness of incense and 
cinnamon again, intermixed with their own scents, further arousing 
their senses, peaking.

Bree felt herself tensing with the entrance of the mist. She drew in a 
last breath of air and let it out in one long scream of pleasure and 
contentment. Her cries echoed through the eons. The mists seemed to 
shiver as though sharing in her pleasure. Her body arched into the 
sensations given by Natasha's tongue. Her body was still sheened with 
light sweat from her dance and the heat of the fire. She felt all her 
internal muscles contracting, pulsing against Natasha's fingers. She 
felt her mind and soul exploding with blue light. Visions flashed 
through her numbed mind as she climaxed. Moonlight Rising. Fawn. The 
Dance.

Moments later, almost simultaneously, she felt Natasha tense and cry 
out. Not as loudly as she, but enough to know that Bree's tongue had 
provided the same overwhelming pleasure to the straining girl above 
her.

Into the darkness of the tent, Bree heard her own voice whisper, 
"Raven."

Gasping, Natasha collapsed onto Bree and turned herself around. They 
lay in each other's arms, quietly crying and rocking.

The mists slowly retreated, and the low music lulled them as they 
fought with the new sensations flooding through their bodies. Neither 
knew what this all meant, and perhaps they weren't supposed to. They 
were soulmates. That was all that mattered. They had been lost, and 
had been brought together, finding one another in the blue fire. The 
stone remained burning brightly on Bree's finger, not to fade until 
morning.

Bree felt the familiar shivers of falling in love, only more intense 
than she had ever felt before. The anticipation of getting to know 
this woman in her arms, learning about her, sharing her life with her, 
sharing her body. All her thoughts were focused on this naked girl, 
who had so unexpectedly fallen into her life.

Bree pulled the sleeping bag over their tired bodies, hiding the 
bright blue light under the blankets. As they slipped into a deep 
exhausted sleep, Bree whispered into the dark sweet hair fanned softly 
over her bare breasts, "Goodnight, my soulmate. My Chosen." She gently 
kissed the top of Natasha's sleeping head.

***

Fawn of the Moonlight Rising dropped to her knees. Her bare body was 
sheened in perspiration, and she was breathing hard from her dance, 
her breasts rising and falling enticingly. The fire had not harmed 
her, as she had known it wouldn't. She reverently offered the blue 
shining stone once again, unsure of herself this time. The dark-haired 
woman, a recent arrival to the tribe known only as Raven, understood 
her destiny already. The desire flooded through Raven's being, 
mirroring the insistent tingles radiating through the kneeling girl in 
front of her. She hesitantly touched the cool burning stone cradled in 
Fawn's small hand. The deep blue light intensified, lighting up the 
night sky like an indigo flash of lightning. Tears ran down Raven's 
face as she accepted the honour of being the Chosen.

Raven reached down to the fair-haired, nude daughter of the chieftain, 
and stroked her face gently. Tears flowed freely down both girls' 
faces.

"Bree," she whispered to the kneeling girl, calling Fawn's name softly 
in the tongue of the ancients. She gently took Fawn's small hand in 
her own, gazing into her deep eyes. They were soulmates. Forever. She 
had been Chosen.

Together they rose and walked slowly from the fire.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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