Walker Ch. 01.01

'No.' the girl said tremblingly to the impassive tiger looming over her. Her wide green eyes stare defiantly at him through a veil of light-yellow hair, though her hands trembled against the rope binding her wrists together.

'Hrmm.' it tugged lightly on her leash as if to remind her of her position, 'Your sire promised pliancy.'

She spat at him, 'I shan't be no slave to a beast!'

Though man shaped, he was shorter than most but the power of his physique was unmistakable beneath the black striped orange fur. He dropped down onto his knuckles, it made him look like a hunting cat with its head dipped before the pounce.

The girl's eyes fixed nervously on the wide twitching snout as she could not meet the piercing yellow gaze, 'That man promised silver he had not.'

'A pox on the laws. A pox on my father. And a pox on you.' she snarled.

Unfazed and unmoving he stared at her 'I must hunt. Come or I eat you.'

It seemed a ludicrous thing but there was no jest in the tone and she could not read the mask of the tiger's face. She felt the sudden terror of realization coming in cold sickening waves from the pits of her stomach.

'You wouldn't.'

Those cold hungry eyes simply stared at her and saliva pooled beneath the folds of its maw.

Tears welled in her eyes as the brave facade melted away, 'That is to be my fate? Slave or meat?'

'Choose.' it said tugging on the leash.

A tear slid down her cheek 'I will come.'

The tiger emerged into the morning sun with the maiden trailing behind. Bird song filled the canopy of the forest above. A breeze tugged at his scant loincloth and slid coldly into the burlap sack which served as her body covering.

She saw he carried no weapons, 'With what will you hunt?'

Saying nothing he began walking at a brisk pace over the uneven terrain. The rope round her neck pulled taught and yanked her along.

Stones, sticks and other nuisances bit into her soles. He paid no heed to her discomfort but grew impatient with the pace it set.

'I have no balance.' she snapped tartly in response to his growl, 'If you loose my wrists I can walk.'

The length of the nails snapping from his fingertips surprised her. She presented her hands and noticed the glint from those claws. A strong warm hand grasped her arms, pads inside the digits scratched her milky skin. There came a snapping sound and sorely missed blood rushed into her fingers sending sharp stabs of electricity up her arms.

Wordlessly he tugged the leash and began walking again.

A while later they came to a brook which she'd heard long before it came into sight. A line of grey stone rose from the earth further up, as if the land had sunk to create a single step; water rushed as a low waterfall from its edge.

At the water's edge the tiger looked at her, 'Don't run.' Fangs bared and long whiskers quivered with menace.

'Where would I run to? Back to my father or the old brute he had promised me to? Into the woods to starve?'

It glared 'Sit. Wait for me.'

Angrily she sat on a jutting stone and he released the leash.

Though its legs were shorter than a human's its feline grace was unmistakable. With a deft leap it cleared the width of the brook landing on all fours on the opposite bank, in moments its stripes melded into the ferns and shadows. Then she was alone with her white breath in the cold.

She had dreaded the coming marriage to Batrus, he was the richest man in the village with more than a hundred head of cattle and thrice that in sheep, lands of grain to dwarf the small lots that others tended for themselves when they were not working his ground. He was foul of odor and a harsh man who treated her father and other men in the village as if he were perpetually owed. It was true in a sense as his fortune was the only thing which kept the people fed during the hard winter months when snow made prisoners of them all, and kept the men in work after the snow had melted. There were no other suitors who would so much as look at her after her father had traded her to Batrus on the promise of a parcel of land and a handful of sheep. The man's teeth were rot and he stank more than his animals' shite.

She quivered again at the prospect of his gut resting on her back while he rutted some children into her, falling asleep with his stew-stained beard pressing against her nakedness.

One day came the tiger to the village totem, four silvers promised in a gamble that any man who could land a strike with staff or club. She imagined the scene again; a foreigner in their land looking to fight a Norring, all those present would feel their pride needing defended against this beast. Her father, impulsive and cocksure approached the stretching tiger. Even being the veteran of many a raid, her father had lost in moments, and he had not four silver in coin with which to settle with the tiger. The Elderman proclaimed the law of the gods, a gamble must be settled.

Only one thing did her father own of four silvers in value. Though promised to Batrus as a bride, and surely Batrus would bristle, the fear of the gods won out and her father paid the tiger. That was days ago.

From somewhere across the brook she heard the faint grunting of deer. Above the tree line a disturbed flock of birds swelled into the sky. For a moment she considered simply escaping back to the village. Then realized again, that the law of the gamble would compel the Elderman to return the tiger's property to him. No, returning would mean a slave's punishment by whip or crop, and the disgrace of a girl rebuking gods' law. Even if they would accept her... fat, rich Batrus waited for her on that side.

On that day, she had been tending the chickens when her had father entered, hard blue eyes set into his wild mane of grey. 'Strip.' he had commanded her. With no further explanation he had tore holes in an old grain sack and tossed it at her feet 'Put it on. Come.' He'd drug her by the ear, past the neighbors, through the village, for all eyes to witness her like a sack of grain in trade.

'Ahh, here's me runaway bride.' she swung round to the sight of Batrus emerging from the trees flanked by her father and two of Batrus' bodymen. They all carried hatchets except for one who had a hunting bow.

'Father!' she exclaimed, 'Has the Elderman changed his mind? Will you bring me back with you?'

But her father remained cold faced and silent, refusing to witness the hope draining from her eyes.

It was Batrus who answered, 'Nay pretty lass, the gamble is sanctified. It is just that I'm feeling mighty cheated by the whole affair. Come with us.'

She saw the grim expressions of all the men, cept for Batrus who was smiling. 'To the village?' she asked.

'Where is the Tigreni?' the bowman said.

'Off, hunting other side.' she gestured at the brook. 'Go where?'

Her father came forward and hauled her up by the arm.

'Where are we going?' she insisted.

'Hush now.'

The walk was silent and brusque. Her arm hurt in the iron grip and she struggled to be free, 'I'll walk on my own Da.' But she was ignored and dragged along.

They took her a ways into the trees and up onto an outcropping of stone. The bowman stood sentry on the edge peering into the trees. They were not taking her to the village, 'What do you intend to do?' she asked frantically as fat old Batrus stood before her.

He smiled with crooked and broken teeth. 'Simply taking what was promised me.' The hatchet in his hand had a sharpened blade, he gripped the canvas bag at her neck and began cutting open the front.

'Father?' she pleaded but those stony eyes were distant.

'Hold her arms.' Batrus said. The canvas trapped her shoulders as the sides were pulled up her back and over her crossed arms. A tight knot trapped them there with her taught breasts exposed to the chilly air.

Batrus took a step back while the other man held her in place 'Prettiest tits I ever saw. I made yer da a deal the day I noticed em straining tight against those dresses. They're udders me cows would be proud of.'

'Father!' she screamed, 'Father please.'

Batrus backhanded her across the face. Stars exploded in her eyes and her knees wobbled, yet she was not allowed to sink.

Batrus' voice came through a fog 'Come the marriage, I'da kept you at home. I'd have fucked ye like a dog and kept ya penned like me cows. Always swollen with babes. I'd suck the milk from these sacks, suck em dry and leave none for the babes. If yer stomach grew too big fer a fuckin I'd have ye suck me. Suck me all night. The pretty lass, worth nothing but foaling, sucking and fucking.'

'Father.' she pleaded as she was thrown to the underbrush.

'Let's have a look at this puss.' Batrus gripped her knees and forced them open, 'Ahh, yellow fuzz. A fine carpet.' Fingers rubbed her and she felt the rough calloused thumb scratching at her. 'Not like a whore's rose, this puss is still hiding deep in a girl's cave.'

Suddenly his thick digit was thrust through the layer of flesh which kept her virginity, she grunted but a hand clamped her jaw. It was like a grind stone moving inside her.

The man behind pulled her up onto his thighs, keeping her quiet and immobile as Batrus undid the sash to his pants. She kicked at the pig between her legs but he grasped her ankles and hoisted his belly onto her stomach, forcing her legs open.

'You'll go back ta the tiger when we's done with you. No gambles will be broken.'

Then she felt him enter her beneath the sickening warmth of his belly. Sharp pains erupted in her nethers as he thrust unmindfully into her. Lightheaded and starry eyed from the hand crushing her face, her struggles grew weak.

It was not long before Batrus' belly leaked sweat as rivulets slithering over his tummy and pooling where their flesh fused. 'Ahh, she's a tight cunt.' grunted the pig, then he shuddered and sagged on her.

'Can I have a go?' said the body man holding her.

The belly slipped wetly off her, 'Aye, do what ye want. She ain't worth none now.'

He wiped her tears, snot and saliva on her chest before letting her lie, motionless and brittle with pain and despair.

Nauseas, she heaved. Disgusted the man grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees so she could not vomit over herself. He knelt behind her and intruded into her. Finally her stomach heaved and poured its contents out to the sounds of slapping flesh. Numb with shock, she barely heard her father asking, 'I'll still get the land and livestock?'

'Aye but less. On account of havin' ta wait two seasons afore the younger uglier one comes of age.'

When her heaving quieted, she was thrust down where she was. His cock was much larger than the older man's but she had no strength now to fight as it brutalized her open. Nipples and soft flesh scraped with each thrust.

Time disappeared as the world ebbed in darkness. At one point she tried turning, but fingers twined her hair and forced her to taste the dirt. Her body quivered and grew numb with the abuse.

Only vaguely did she register the bowman's complaints when his turn came, 'Agh, her cunt's all muddy now Deidrick. Bring me the water will you?'

'What's yer problem? She's not sheepy enough for your tastes?' came the retort.

'Fuck you. Look at it, it's pulsing blood, cum and dirt. I'll get me pecker scratched in there.'

Being dragged, naked and bound deeper into the underbrush, she could do nothing but moan as the freezing fluid washed over her bruised and swollen genitals. Blindly she kicked but was rewarded with a fist in the back of the head.

They took turns and when one intruded into her anus, there was no more strength left in her to even utter a complaint at the new sensation which bled seamlessly dull with the rest.

Stars circled the twig before her eyes and blackness swirled around the edges. There came a scream and she could not tell whether it was hers or someone else's. A stone the size of a man's fist hit the ground before her, followed by the bowman hitting the ground directly after.

'Bloody hells!' Deidrick shouted picking up the fallen bow and nocking an arrow.

'What?' Batrus took up his hatchet. A fist sized stone hit Deidrick in the neck and he collapsed heaving.

The girl's father and another man swung round to find the tiger emerging from behind a tree. Drying blood, stained its clawed hands. Its maw painted demon red in deer blood.

The yellow eyes fixed on the semi-conscious girl. 'Is this how the Norrish honor their law?', asked the tigreni.

'We broke none of our laws.' Batrus retorted with the hatchet at the ready. At his shoulder stood the girl's father, similarly ready.

'You stole from me.' Its growling tone low and menacing.

'We've finished. She's still yours.'

'Hrm. Damaged. No man will pay dowry.'

'To the hells with you beast!' Batrus exclaimed, 'You're free to return and argue Norrish law with the Elderman.'

The tiger approached, 'Leave or fight.', it said brandishing sharpened claws.

'You'll be the one breaking the laws if you attack us.' said the father.

Thick bushy eyebrows raised 'You stole from my camp, damaged what's mine. Leave now, or lose life's gamble.'

The men stood for several tense moments before Batrus lowered his weapon. He spat at the tigreni, eliciting a low growl from the beast. The men roused their stunned comrades and the four stumbled off into the forest.

Its keen nose bristled at the many odors fogging the clearing. Human hormones, blood, fear, pain, shit, sex. The girl's eyes fluttered with shock as he rolled her over. He pressed a knuckle to her throat, the pulse was strong but a wet string of semen stretched between them.

'Disgusting.' it growled as it slid its arms under her body.

Carrying her like a child he took her back to the brook where he freed her arms. He washed her bruised and broken flesh as well as he could. Her lips had lost all color from the cold even as her body and face colored purple and black.

She regained some sense in the cold waters, struggling weakly in his grip as he opened her sex to the flow.

'L-l-let me go.'

'Hold still, I do not want infections.'

Globules of fluids and congealed blood loosened and drifted away as long tendrils. Fingers clawed blindly at the fur on his face, tugging irritatingly. With low growls and curses, he tolerated the weak struggles as he cleaned his property.

Back at the camp he left her on his pallet while he donned his brown robe and dismantled the small tripod tent around her. The tent posts were bound together with leather straps.

He could not stay here, he knew, and the girl would get hypothermia if she were not warmed soon. A decision was made. The tent was folded double, the ends tied together and the girl placed in its folds. He bent and put his head through the loop, situating the knot on his shoulder. Standing, the limp body folded itself round his hip, her head resting snugly against his ribs. Warmth from his body would fill the slinged tent like a cocoon. He carried his pallet under one arm and slung the freshly gutted deer carcass over his shoulder.

And so was life, sighed the tiger as he trekked off into the woods.