The Thorian Sagas. 2. Insurrection.

Their ‘guests’ were well looked after, as each day gave way to the next. They were not going downhill in any way. Quite the opposite; they were showing sometimes disturbing signs of life.

By the fifth day, the women had learned their tasks well, and had fallen into a routine as they compared notes with each other, sharing what they were finding out, daring to discuss what they had seen happening with these men in very personal ways, and… other… shocking changes.

The men were kept shaven, clean, well-fed and in shape; at the peak of their physical condition as though being prepared to either fight or… unthinkable… (and as the women could not avoid noticing as they worked around them most hours of the day, never leaving them unattended) … to breed; if their autonomic nervous responses as they were worked upon, were any indication.

Such obvious physical changes often caught Monique and the others by surprise at first, not believing what they were seeing, but understanding it well enough.

They soon learned more about that, once their initial shock had subsided; and, of course, they were curious about that item, as all women were.

‘What did I do to cause that to grow like that? I did nothing. I didn’t touch it! It was so small, so why now, is it so big, so hard, so stiff? It wasn’t like that a few moments ago. What happened to make it stick up like that?’

Except they hadn’t actually ‘done’ anything. Their closeness and their presence; their touch; their natural bodily scent, was enough to trigger it, if they hadn’t already known about those enervating things for a man on the receiving end of them.

These men even smelled strangely interesting to them too; triggering strange responses in their bodies in turn; changes that they’d rarely known before.

They even needed to bathe themselves more often. It was difficult to stay clean.

Everything began to smell different, with an explosive burst of hormones and pheromones permeating the atmosphere around them, as though they were wading through an overwhelming sexually arousing swamp of everything male.

From the evidence provided by that obvious male response, these males... as with most males, when nubile women were close to them… were clearly more than constantly ready for… what some men always seemed ready for, or so those Kelt women laughingly told them. It was something that they, the kelt women were comfortable thinking about in relationship to themselves with their own men, but these Fennian women, weren’t comfortable thinking about that. Not yet. They would soon get there, driven to it by a constant drumbeat of emotions and by their own hormones.

These men, all of them, seemed prone to being that way nearly all of the time that they were being worked upon; shaved, massaged, exercised, bathed and even when they were being fed. It was sobering how often they were like that; keeping the women on their toes, and observant at all times, as though another, alien presence had suddenly come upon the scene.

The Kelt women found it amusing to observe the shocked responses of these Fennian women to that natural occurrence; hearing them let out a little squeal, feeling themselves being inadvertently touched in a way they’d not expected, and to step away for a moment as though in shock, slowly getting used to it. It would wear them down, as gradually did to most women, and as surely as a steady drip of water could wear away a rock, except this would happen much faster; more like an avalanche tumbling down a mountain slope.

They would have to get used to it. That item never tired, never gave up, and it wasn’t going to disappear. These men even needed to be cleaned there, so there was no avoiding touching it. They also had to constantly touch those parts for other reasons; to save them from getting trapped in an uncomfortable way as their bodies were moved around.

Barbara had no hesitation touching anything, or moving anything by lifting and pulling at the loose skin on his testicles, setting Monique and others laughing nervously.

That initial shock of seeing and doing all of that very personal intervention, would soon be second nature to them, and would give way to curiosity of a different kind as they considered, speculated, and became even more curious about that, and then… became curious about themselves in turn; about their own bodies in corresponding places, and their own feelings.

That was designed to go…where? Into… here?

They needed to investigate themselves to understand. Not liking what they were learning.

Impossible! Not enough of an opening in my body for that monstrous appendage to fit into there.

Not enough ‘give’.

It would be painful. It might even tear. I wonder what it really would feel like?. What is this slippery fluid leaking from the top of it? Is that designed to help it get in?

Gradually their thinking was changing.

Maybe not impossible. Difficult, yes; but, ‘difficult’, was not, ‘impossible’.

From there, it would just be a matter of a short time. Nature had its own way of doing things and overcoming temporary hurdles.

That initial disbelief and shock as they learned more about this fleshy monument and themselves, would be the usual responses of any young woman not familiar with that. Anyone would have difficulty believing that anything quite so obvious and prominent could ever…. Not that first time.

They went over the same arguments; though the objections and reservations got gradually weaker. Doubt, was hard to suppress, as was curiosity.

That concerned attitude would soon change. It already was changing in a naturalprogression as old as time itself. They were now even able to smile about that change that seemed inevitable when they approached and touched these men in any way to work around them.

They began to make comments to each other about this other pilgrim; to joke about it. It seemed normal to admire it and even to think about what it meant and indicated, especially when it came to themselves. It was not something they could easily discuss with each other. Not yet. But they could observe; and they could think; and they could marvel; and they could wonder. They were already losing that other battle.

They were aware that none of their own males were like this; so easily brought to this state of readiness to breed. It was unnerving, but at the same time… interesting, to women who had deliberately shunned close male company of their own kind. Though that had always been their choice, with that oath of celibacy. It had been an easy choice to make. There was nothing about their own males that was in any way as interesting as these men, but that was usually a private thought.

They soon discovered the easiest ways to do things. Each of the men could be shaved in the bath; two birds with one stone. Then it seemed only rational to go a step further, as Barbara had first done, sitting over him to get closer to shave him.

The others had left Monique alone to do that, having gone to prepare their next meal.

the same thing was progressing the same way in each of the other rooms, as though all of their thoughts and futures were progressing along the same track.

It made sense that Monique could also bathe at the same time and save her tunic and other clothes from getting wet.

Monique slipped out of all of her clothing and climbed into the bath with him, sitting over him, as Barbara had done, though she; Barbara, had been fully dressed.

She lathered up his face in a way she was now used to doing, and began to shave him, rinsing the soap and bristles off in a bowl sitting to one side for that purpose.

She went over the rest of his body with the soap, feeling less shy doing this, now that she was alone, able to find out for herself what she needed to know about these deeply personal and interesting male items without others judging her insatiable curiosity.

She held them tenderly in her hand as she worked the soap around them.

He was unconscious but would soon get back to that other state, closer to consciousness, where he could take food and drink, before being laid back to rest for the night.

It had been a long day for all of them and they were all tired.

The bath was warm, comforting.

Monique bathed herself as she sat over him.

Giving in to impulse, lulled by the warmth, and his body beneath her, she laid out upon him; her head resting in the space between his shoulder and his neck, closed her eyes and rested. He smelled clean, but there were still those other interesting smells, which seemed to bubble out of every pore to assault her nostrils and senses.

It was comforting, and exciting to be like this.

She dreamed, flitting in and out of sleep as she laid upon him, singing a lullaby to herself and to him.

All she could think of was Liam, and yet she was here, with this other Thorian, whose name she did not even know. There were these two men in her every thought. It was a difficulty she would soon have to deal with.