The Maze Ch. 01: Minotaur

On Midsummer Day in my nineteenth year, I completed my Rites of Adulthood and gained thus the right to leave the comfort and security of the Farm, which was all I had ever known, and to brave instead the shadows and uncertainty of the Maze.

Few chose to exercise that right. What lay within and beyond the Maze, no one knew for sure, for none who left ever returned, but the tales we told at the fireside suggested great oceans of water and grand cities full of powerful wizards. The tales spoke of monsters too, and it was often said the Maze had been built to keep them out.

"Are we really doing this?" Ana asked, peering through the thick iron bars of the Gate.

I clasped her hand tightly in mine. To stay was unthinkable. The Elders had husbands chosen for us, as if we were no more than animals to be bred. "Together," I said. In the dark unknown there was at least hope.

Ana smiled. "Together," she echoed, and together we pulled the Gate open, sufficient to squeeze through, each carrying a backpack with food and drink and spare clothing.

The Farm was far more than just a farm. It was a town, a community, home at the last census to a population of over three thousand. The old church was so old that no one living understood the secret of its building. Ana and I had grown up together, gone to school together, and worked and played in the fields and orchards together. We had even, on occasion, slept in the same bed, stealing furtive kisses in the dark.

Ana, unlike me, was popular with the boys. Her blonde curls and blue eyes, her infectious grin, the eye-catching curves... The men too, watching her with possessive hunger. Her father was fiercely protective of her - which suited me. In their eyes, I was a safe companion for her. Just a girl. In time we would both be married off in the way of tradition.

Except I had no wish to marry any man, and Ana's betrothed - the mayor's eldest - was a man she despised. Her father, ignoring her complaints, insisted on the union nevertheless, just as my father refused to hear my pleas for mercy. So in the dead of night we packed our bags and slipped out, following the path by the River to the river's end and the Gate, our one possible route to freedom.

We were adults now, and the Gate opened for us - and then, with a great, ominous clang, the Gate shut behind us, and the home we knew, our families, seemed suddenly so far away.

We stepped resolutely forward, into the shadows between high, ancient walls built of stones no mortal man could possibly lift. Rough-hewn blocks of granite. Walls twice our height or more. The Maze was the work of gods, or perhaps those fabled wizards, but time had done its damage. The ground was soft with moss, the stones green with lichen, and bushes stretched up towards the light, their thick roots anchored between the stones, their branches often a thick canopy above our heads.

We knew the way - to begin with. Climbing the first wall was a popular dare as kids, but the paths beyond were quickly obscured by the vegetation. At first it didn't seem much of a maze at all, but after the first few obvious turns the narrow paths began to twist and disorientate, and the choices became many.

With each branching of paths, with each decision made, our certainty in being able to return diminished. Above us, the late morning sun rose, breathing life and colour and optimism into the narrow, high-walled paths. Yellow-winged birds and fat bumblebees and pale pink butterflies were our companions, but for the first time in our lives we were alone, no friends, no family, just the two of us and a seemingly endless maze.

I loved it, because I loved being alone with Ana. I loved being able to watch her and hold her hand and to not have to worry that I would be seen and judged by others. In the Farm, there was no possibility for men to be with men or women to be with women.

"I don't like this, Mia," Ana said. "Maybe we should go back."

I wasn't about to give up, though. "Look," I said, pointing ahead. A section of wall had tumbled, making an easy climb to the top. Ana and I hurried up.

The inner wall about the Farm was only a stone's throw away. We had walked for hours, and yet achieved so little. Charlie and Adam, our assigned, future husbands, stood not far away, on top of the wall near the Gate, no doubt searching for their errant, future wives. We ducked down again before being seen.

"You want to go back to that?" I demanded, shuddering at the thought of Charlie's hands on me, of having to kiss him and more, every day. He worked with my father, tending the cattle, muscular and handsome - a good man, but ultimately still a man.

Ana laughed. "No." Sighing, she added, "But we've hardly made any progress at all. What if we get lost in here?"

"Then at least we'll be lost together," I said, and kissed her, and for a second or two she returned the kiss. We were alone, and in that precious moment we were free.

And in truth we were lost, although the choices we made took us gradually away from the Farm. Sometimes there were breaks in the walls that provided a more direct route, made by storms, perhaps, or maybe even earthquakes. "Or monsters," Ana said, squeezing through a narrow crack.

I had gone through first, without problem, and Ana had passed the packs through, but as she herself squeezed through, she cried out, "I'm stuck!" She clutched at me desperately with her arms and I could feel her struggle to free her waist and legs.

She screamed, and with such terror it set my heart racing. "There's something in there, Mia!" I pulled on her with all my weight and strength, and suddenly she slipped free. We tumbled together, panting, and scrambled away from the dark crack.

Ana burst into tears as I stared at her bare legs and feet. Whatever had grabbed her had stripped her of boots and trousers. There were muddy hand prints on her skin, even as high as her underwear, which was soaked through. I wondered if that was why the creature in the wall had released her in the end.

"You're safe now," I soothed, holding her tight.

Boots were one thing we didn't have extra of in our bags, but Ana was quickly back in trousers with fresh underwear and looking thoroughly miserable. "I want to go back," she said.

My heart hurt to see her so unhappy. I loved being alone with her, but I wanted to protect her. Daring the Maze had been my idea, and I had persuaded her that we could do it. I was no longer sure about that. I couldn't deny her wish, but we were more lost than ever. Climbing the walls no longer gave us a clear view of the Farm to orient ourselves, and retracing our steps would have meant braving the creatures in the wall. "That way, I think," I said, pointing.

Ana nodded and followed wearily, studying the ground carefully to see where to put her bare feet. The carpet of moss was soft, but there were branches and sharp stones, and the shadows were deepening as afternoon turned to evening.

We turned a corner and came face to face with a man - or what had once been a man. At first I thought he was merely imprisoned by vines, but as I studied his misshapen limbs, I saw that the vines sprouted from his flesh.

Most astonishing, however, was his swollen penis that throbbed and twitched, a gooey, creamy stream dripping from the head onto the mossy ground. Testicles the size of oranges swung beneath. I had seen men naked before, but never in such an aroused state. "Dear gods," whispered Ana. "It's Eric."

Perhaps it was at the sound of his name, but his eyes opened and I screamed, as much in recognition that it was indeed Eric, as at the shock at seeing he was still alive, still conscious. "Stay away," he croaked.

For a moment I thought he was struggling to be free of the capturing vines, but Ana gasped. "He's coming," she whispered, and indeed the trickle of oozing fluid had become a wild spurting as his penis jerked. It splashed onto the ground at our feet, making Ana squeal in disgust, and we retreated quickly. "Yuck!" she hissed, cleaning it off her bare skin with a clump of moss.

Eric's eyes closed and soon he was still again, the only indication of life being that slow trickle from his still erect penis. I could see no way to free him from his captor. Above his head, scarlet flowers bathed in the dying sunlight. That something so evil could also be so beautiful baffled me. "At least they will be easy to spot," I muttered, but the path that I had hoped would take us home had bright scarlet along its length.

We nestled into a corner for the night, eating sparingly of our supplies of food and drink. Even choosing to return, there was no telling how quickly we would make it back. At least the night was warm, and there was not even a breath of wind, sheltered as we were.

Sleep did not come quickly for either of us. The warmth of Ana's body and the fragrance of her hair were an intimate pleasure, and I longed to undress her, to hold her to me, to make love.

"It's a year since Eric disappeared," Ana said. "Do you think he's been there all this time? That awful plant feeding on him. Keeping him drugged with pleasure, his cock hard, cum dripping endlessly..."

"Ana!" I said, shocked. I knew the words, but never used them.

"I can still smell it on me," she said, sniffing her hand. "I can't wait to get home. I'm going to bathe for a week."

*

I awoke once to Ana having a nightmare, kicking her legs in her sleep, and didn't need to ask why. The second time she woke me, she was murmuring unintelligibly, but also touching herself, her hand inside her unbuttoned trousers, inside her underwear. I lay there unmoving, hyper-awake, aroused like never before, and it was a long time indeed before I drifted off again.

The third time, it wasn't Ana who woke me, but rather an awkward and painful constriction of my legs. The sky was bright with dawn, but the corner where we were was still cast in shadow. There was enough light, however, to see the web of roots entangling my legs, and I had a sudden, horrifying vision of myself in Eric's place, trapped in a constant turmoil of pleasure and need as vines slowly devoured my flesh. "Ana!" I screamed.

She awoke with a start, then gave an echoing scream at the sight of the roots and scrambled away to safety - but she was in no danger. I was the one in danger. I could feel the roots winding higher around my thighs, and could see them piercing my trousers. There were sharp points of pressure too, and I couldn't tell if they were piercing my flesh too. "Help me, Ana," I cried. "Get them off me."

"How?" she demanded, keeping her distance.

"There's a knife in my bag," I said, trying desperately to remain calm. Our backpacks were out of my reach. Without Ana's help, I would have been doomed. Even so, she hesitated, unwilling to come any closer. "Please, Ana!"

At last she moved, snatching my pack and retreating quickly. Finding my knife, she tossed it to me, and I attacked the roots, cutting and tearing at my trousers, my socks too, to get at the roots beneath. There was blood everywhere from the roots that punctured my skin, and though I snatched at these and tugged them out, something of them stayed within.

Abruptly it was over, the roots retreating beneath the moss, leaving me sat there in tattered shorts with bloody legs, knife clenched in one hand.

Ana sat watching, her eyes wide. "We need to get out of this place," she said.

I nodded agreement, but as I looked at her, I remembered how she had writhed with pleasure during the night. "Can you still smell him on you?" I asked, perversely curious, and nearly laughed as she sniffed at the hand that had served her so well.

Ana scrunched up her nose. "Ugh, I really need a bath."

*

We made slow progress. Once or twice we tried walking along the tops of the walls, but the bushes and trees growing out from the cracks made it difficult, and too often the great stones rocked dangerously beneath our feet. Here and there, bright scarlet flowers blocked the way, forcing us to retreat and lose even more time.

On top of all that, my legs ached. My feet were so swollen that I gave my boots to Ana to wear, and I was far happier on the mossy ground than climbing the walls.

And if I was in pain, there was something else distracting Ana. She tried to hide it, but I caught glimpses from the corners of my eyes. Her hand would drift to her crotch, scratching idly through the fabric of her trousers, or she would squeeze one breast, or other, even pinch her nipple. When we stopped for a rest, and to relieve ourselves in relative private, afterwards she looked flushed and guilty and refused to meet my eyes.

By the time we stopped for lunch, the noonday sun high and hot above us, we were both frustrated. "We're getting nowhere," Ana growled, throwing her pack down on the ground and looking around for a corner to hide behind.

I sat on a stone and massaged my aching legs. The bruises around the punctures were a violent purple, and between the bruises the skin had a greenish cast. It didn't look good. "Every turn seems to take us deeper into the maze," I said wearily, and wished Ana would just scratch the itch that was tormenting her so. I hated the way she tried to hide it from me.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said.

I nodded and watched her disappear round the corner - and then I jumped to my feet as she screamed. I raced after her, and skidded to a halt. Ana was standing there with her trousers and underwear down about her boots, but that was all I could see of her. An enormous blue flower had reached down from the wall in an attempt to swallow her whole. Giant, leathery petals encapsulated her from the waist up, and it seemed to be trying to lift her into the air as she struggled and screamed inside.

Grabbing her by her feet, I pulled with all my might, amused despite the bizarre horror of the situation by the fact that this was the second tug of war I had engaged in to save her life since entering the Maze. Again I was successful, but only because Ana sacrificed her shirt and vest. She slipped free of the furious flower and fell onto the mossy ground, unclothed and equally furious. Her face and her blonde hair were coated in yellow pollen that made her sneeze violently as she crawled to safety.

I had seen her breasts before, of course. They were large, and round, and beautiful. I had never seen her nipples so swollen before. They looked almost angry. They reminded me almost of the teats of the cows my mother and I would milk in the mornings. I wondered what it would be like to suck on Ana's teats and drink the milk gushing into my mouth.

Ana burst into tears, and screamed, "I hate this place!"

Indeed, I had seen her naked before, but I had never seen her so exposed before, her legs bare and parted to reveal that most intimate of women's parts. I couldn't help but stare. She was so wet, so very aroused, and perhaps it was my imagination but I could smell her arousal - or perhaps it was the sweet, lingering smell of the blue flower and its scattered cloud of pollen.

Ana pulled herself into a ball, hugging her knees, and glowered at me. "Stop looking at me like that," she said.

I was struggling to feel sympathy for her. There was something profoundly erotic about her vulnerability. Part of me wished I had taken advantage of her when I could. The plant and I could have shared her. She would have been helpless as I explored between her thighs and gorged on that delightful intimacy.

Shocked at the train of my thoughts, I shook my head to clear it. "Maybe stay close to me, next time," I replied.

Ana did stay close to me. All afternoon she followed, barely saying a word. Every time I glanced at her, there were tears rolling down her cheeks. Her swollen nipples strained against her new, clean shirt, and after a while she stopped caring if I saw her answer their call. One time she even leaned against the wall and plunged her hand into her trousers.

"Don't look at me," she hissed, but I sat and watched with interest as she brought herself to the precipice, and over, her body shaking, her neck and cheeks flushed. "I hate you," she said, refusing to look at me.

I said nothing, but that was the moment I gave up on searching for a way home. At the next branching of the ways, I chose the outwards path, and sensed an immediate lifting of my spirit. I was never going back to the Farm. I would find an escape from the Maze, or die trying.

Ana followed after, unquestioning.

*

I found myself more aware of scents than ever before, and not just of Ana's rich aroma of musky fertility. The Maze, although still visually baffling, carried threads of fragrance that often warned of hidden dangers. The scarlet vines, the blue woman-eating tulips, the entangling root-weed, all had their distinctive notes. The muddy hands in the walls had a particularly foul stench, and I wondered how I had ever missed it.

There were other scents too, unfamiliar, but at least I had a sense of which paths were safe, and which were not. When dark came, I found us somewhere safe to rest for the night.

"We're doomed," Ana said, "aren't we? We'll never find our way home." She sat down next to me, clearly exhausted, mentally and physically. She leaned her head on my shoulder as if she hadn't spent most of the afternoon glaring hatefully at my back. "I keep thinking about my wedding night."

"You and Adam, staring into each other's eyes, promising eternal love and a hundred children."

Ana laughed. "No. I mean after. In bed. I keep thinking how good it will be to finally surrender to him. To feel his cock in me. Fucking me."

"But you hate him," I protested.

"Yes, but I need him. I need his cock."

We lay there under the stars for a long time, both pretending to sleep, but Ana was too restless, too sexually aroused to relax, and the smell of her, and the heat of her, had the same effect on me.

Suddenly, with a whine of frustration, she sat up and tugged off her shirt. She was no more than a silhouette, but I could imagine the seductive curves of her breasts and sweet, swollen hardness of her nipples.

"I know you're awake," she said. "I know you want me."

"What do you want?" I asked.

Ana sighed. "What I really want is a hard cock."

"I can't help you there."

"Don't make me beg, Mia. I need you. Help me!"

"Promise you won't hate me again in the morning?"

"Make me come and I promise I will love you forever."

I didn't believe it, but the gesture was nice. I sat up and removed my own top too, feeling immediately the chill even on this summer night.

Impatiently she guided my mouth to her breast, and I sucked hungrily on her hard nipple, playing with it with my tongue and loving every gasp and whimper of pleasure that escaped her mouth. I had dreamed of doing this with her. My hand found her other breast, my fingers her other nipple, and I caressed and teased and massaged and adored.

"Here," she whispered, guiding my hand from her breast to her crotch, the material of her trousers wet to the touch. Hurriedly she unbuttoned herself, pushing trousers and underwear out of the way as my fingers explored between her thighs. "I can't believe how wet I am," she murmured.

I brushed through the curls, both wanting to touch her properly and shy to do so. What we were doing was forbidden in the Farm, and it was difficult to overcome the instinctive fear of being caught.

"My pussy, Mia," Ana insisted. "Put your fingers in me. Fuck me with your fingers."

She guided my hand to her wet, intimate centre, her pussy. I had touched my own often enough, but it was strange and wonderful to caress and explore Ana's, to discover and tease her very prominent clitoris, to delve gently inside her, feeling her virgin hymen and penetrating deeper.

"Oh yes," she cried softly. "It feels so good."