Amara and Rath's Tale
This story is rated for Readers Over 16 for sexual situations and violence
I sat there, afraid to move farther away, and watched him. What did he mean? I burned him? He was the one who commanded fire. He was writhing now, his body undulating with a desperate need that even he didn't understand. He opened his silks and pulled out a painfully stiff penis, followed by a soft, rounded sac hanging below it. My sister had called her boyfriend's appendage "balls" but I never understood why - until now. I could see two small globes or "balls" moving inside the sac, shifting around as he massaged them. His other hand was curled tightly around his penis, slowly moving up and down its swollen length.
I couldn't take my eyes off him or what his hands were doing. Living in a one-room hut, I had heard the sexual act many times and I had seen the shadows of my parents as they moved, my father lying on top of my mother. But to see someone actually do the act in front of me! I should have been repulsed, I guess, but I was fascinated instead.
Then out of the corner of my eyes I saw them: thin golden filaments floating in the air. They were coming out of my own body! They were brightly lit and slowly growing longer, stretching towards the demon. As his hand moved faster and faster, the filaments became brighter and longer. Suddenly he cried out, arching his back violently, and streams of white spurted from his tormented penis. At that very moment, the moment of his release, the filaments attached themselves to his body and he whimpered as each one touched him. Then they slowly faded, finally disappearing completely. But I could still feel them attached to him, even though I could no longer see them. And in that instant, I knew that he was completely mine and would always be. He had said that I made him burn. I understood it now; he burned with need and desire - for me.
This was very heady stuff! I was ten years old, completely flat and bony, all gangly legs and elbows. I guess I was fairly pretty. My hair was my best feature, it was deep dark red, and my eyes were amber; no one in my family had my coloring. But my face was plain and my body was a stick. So the fact that I made a man burn with desire was exhilarating, to say the least.
After he finished, he lay there sprawled, his silks still open and revealing, looking very undignified. His eyes were closed, drowsing in the last rays of the afternoon sun. I looked at him, really looked, for the first time. To my complete surprise, I saw that he was utterly beautiful. His skin was fair, almost translucent, and his long hair was silky and black. He had high cheekbones and a straight nose. When they were open, his eyes were large and golden. His mouth was full and sensual, begging to be kissed. He had an aristocratic bearing about him, as if he were a prince or lord of some distance land.
I admit I looked farther down, having only seen a glimpse of a man's private parts with that unexpected look at my late sister's boyfriend. And he was just lying there, spread open, inviting examination. His penis was very pale, like the rest of his skin, but its head was a dusky rose, and it was nestled in an dark patch of curling hair. A little bit of white fluid was leaking from the tiny hole in its tip. The globular sac beneath was that same dusky rose in color. His sex was large, I guess, but it no longer appeared enormous. I guess in repose it shrunk in size, or maybe it was just because it was no longer sticking straight up, looking angry and dangerous.
Finally, he managed to get enough strength to sit up, then stand, walking to the lake. He squatted down and washed off, then tucked himself inside and rearranged his clothing. That accomplished, he returned to my side, gracefully sitting down. He looked at me, but said nothing.
"Do you have a name?" It was the only safe question I could think of.
"My name is Rathamaru, My Lady," he said, his voice a strong baritone.
My Lady? I don't know why he added the title, but I liked it. My Lady…. it had a nice ring to it. I couldn't think of anything more to ask him, so we sat there in silence again. The sun started to dip in the sky and I realized that night was coming soon. I started to stand, but he quickly got up and offered me his hand. A long slender hand. By the gods! He was beautiful!
In silence we walked to the village. The villagers stared at Rathamaru and me, not sure what to do. Rathamaru had killed all the demons that had attacked them, but he was still a demon. A high demon - the worst kind. I went up to the village elder, "Don't be afraid. He will not hurt you. He is my demon now."
Kadama looked Rathamaru and then at me, "What do you mean, your demon?"
"I don't know how to explain it, but he is under my control. He will protect our village from now on." Remember that these words were coming from a ten-year-old child. I expected everyone to start laughing and they probably would have, if it were not for the six foot two demon standing behind me. Instead, they nodded respectfully. I took Rathamaru's hand and walked back to my home, the villagers parting the way for us.
Once inside, Rathamaru looked around the one-room hut, with its dirt floor and wooden roof, but made no comment. A mound of hay with a blanket on it was my bed. My parents had a larger mound on the other side of the room. On one side was a fireplace but the fire was dead and cold. Rathamaru went to the hearth, and put some wood in it, then passed his hands over it and flames began to lick the edges of the wood. A fire demon! Rathamaru was a fire demon. He was going to be very handy to have around!
I got out some bread that my mother had baked yesterday and the butter that was kept fresh in a jar of cool water. I guess this was going to be my dinner. I broke off a small piece and gave the rest to Rathamaru. He shook his head and sat at the tiny table, watching me eat. It had been a very long day and I was tired. My eyes kept closing. Rathamaru stood up and went to my parents' bed, then went to mine. He brought the hay from my small bed to my parents' bed and combined them into one bed. Then he spread the blankets over the hay, folding one back to make an envelope. He went to me and brought me to my feet, then picked me up and took me to the bed, tucking me between the two blankets. I fell asleep almost instantly.
Dawn was just breaking when I woke, feeling cozy and warm, listening to the steady beat of a heart. With a start, I realized I was sleeping next to Rathamaru, tight against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. His arms were around me and he was sound asleep, his breathing regular. I moved away from him - remembering what he had done to himself yesterday and knowing that I was the one who caused it. His golden eyes opened and he stared at me, looking a little insulted that I had moved away.
"I would not hurt you, My Lady. I just needed to be next to you."
"Oh." I know that was lame but I couldn't think of a thing to say. One question kept running through my head: what was going to happen in a few more years? When I grew up. I didn't think I was going to be able to keep Rathamaru away. Whatever kind of power it was that I had, it was filling him with need and desire. He had to be near me. The only thing keeping him from using my body instead of his own hands was the fact that I was still a child. But in a very short amount of time, I would not be a child, but a young woman. Other female children started their cycles around thirteen or fourteen. I hoped that meant that I had at least three years left, hopefully four.