Sabina stared straight at my dick, eyes wide, practically drooling. She peeked up, sounding all needy—"So, um... is this okay? Just... leaving it like that?"
I shrugged and messed with my skirt, playing it cool. "Yeah, whatever. I'm good."
Honestly, didn't make a damn difference. She just kept staring—locked in on that spot like she was either peeling off my skirt in her head or losing a battle with herself not to. You could pretty much read the math in her eyes, like she was scoping out the fabric for a chink in the armor.
Ravina broke the silence. "Enough. We ride." She vaulted onto her horse first, then yanked me up behind her—just like before. The moment I settled, my cock pressed against her, unmistakable. A beat of stillness. She knew.
The other women just swung up onto their horses, dead silent, but honestly? The air was buzzing, thick with all the stuff nobody was saying out loud. We started riding again.
Hooves thumping like a heartbeat, not hiding a damn thing—my cock rubbing up against Ravina's ass every time the horse moved, her breath catching when I pressed a little harder, like she couldn't help it.
"It hasn't... softened," she murmured, glancing back. Not an accusation. Curiosity. "Does it always stay like this?"
I yanked her in closer, lips nipping at her earlobe as a crooked grin spread on my face. "It calms... once I release my seed."
Seriously, my brain was fried—just wanted to ruin her. Right there, didn't give a shit if anyone caught us. I was aching, cock like steel, pressing up against her ass, and every time that damn horse jolted, it pushed me closer, rubbing right where she was desperate for it.
I leaned in, slow as sin, just to see how far I could push it—then Ravina snapped, her back arching up, this wild little cry spilling out. Honestly? That sound? Better than any God damn song.
My palms slid up, greedy, over her belly and up her chest. I claimed her tits, rolling her nipples between my fingers until they peaked—sharp, needy. She writhed, but hell, I had her trapped. Nowhere for her to run. "Elder Ravina," I murmured, my mouth right at her ear, all heat and teeth, "look how hard your nipples are. Like little stones. Do they ache?"
She arched, voice strained: "H-Hmph. Your fault—your hands have rubbed them..." The same excuse Kerry had fed me once: rub them right, and their nipples tighten, their cunts weep. Pathetic how predictable they were.
She choked, her hips jerking—yes.
I asked with slight teasing, " Elder Ravina... is your pussy also dripping water... now... do you need me to heal them?"
Ravina didn't reply...." You are here to treat Helen, not me, and don't worry, it will be fine in a while."
The tribe's clearing burst into view too soon—naked Amazonian warriors, spears glinting, their bodies slick with oil and sweat. They turned as one, eyes locking onto me—onto the way Ravina was ridden hard, her skirt hitched, her thighs trembling around my hand.
Ravina jerked the reins—man, the poor horse nearly lost its mind, hooves scrabbling in the dirt. Every single woman around us just... stalled out, jaws going slack.
I could feel their eyes drilling into the spot where my fingers lingered, still circling Ravina's nipple, and, yeah, my cock pressed against her ass—throbbing like it actually had its own damn pulse.
"Enough," Ravina snapped. Or tried to snap—she kind of failed. Like, her voice just collapsed at the end, her whole tough act slipping. She swung her leg over the horse's neck, tried to play it cool on the dismount, but ended up stumbling—thighs sticking, breathing all ragged. Not exactly queen-of-the-battlefield material.
All the warriors were watching. Their glances kept ping-ponging between her and me. They definitely picked up on the weird vibes.
"This boy," Ravina growled, sticking her chin at me like I was some weird street find, "he's a healer. For Sister Helen."
Nobody said anything for a second. Then—laughter broke out. Not the nice kind. Sharp, oily. One of them even licked her lips (I wish I were making this up). "Healer, huh?"
Meanwhile, Sabina started telling everyone about my, uh, situation. You know. Getting hard around "dirty women." Thanks a lot, Sabina.
Pretty sure she's trying to keep me trapped here. Her own little baby-making machine or whatever. Bold of her, honestly, but not exactly flattering.
The women stood there, mouths open. Ravina just mumbled, "We'll, uh, think about it later..."
No one said anything after that. Probably too busy picturing the world's worst group project.
I adjusted the aching bulge in my skirt with a slow, deliberate drag of my palm, the fabric clinging to the throbbing heat of my cock. The movement was lewd, unapologetic—a silent promise of what I could give them.
Oh, I heal alright,... heal your asshole.. beat that ass of your hard enough so that you can remember it for a lifetime. Our eyes collided, a clash of wills—hers desperate, mine amused.
My eyes swept over the crowd of warriors—skin shining, muscles taut, dripping sweat under the raw daylight. Their spears? Shaky as hell, like they'd forgotten which end was up. The whole place stank of oil and dust and something a helluva lot more primal—yeah, that thick, raw scent of hunger. A different kind of need, the sort that doesn't wanna wait.
Everything stopped for a moment. No one talked. Next thing I know, Ravina clamps down on my wrist, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. Not a word outta her, just this wild look and feet scuffing up dirt, dragging me straight to the biggest hut like she's hauling me to the judge.
Everyone else? Standing back, but watching with that hungry, wide-eyed stare—mouths parted, but not saying a damn thing. Honestly, it was like the whole crowd forgot how to breathe.
Inside the hut, you practically choke on the heat. Helen sprawled on the stone bed, which seemed wet from her sweat.. and she was panting hard in her sleep.
Ravina just collapsed next to her sister, kneeling, not even caring about her dignity anymore. "Please," she begged, voice all hoarse and rough around the edges, like she'd been screaming into the wind. Pride? Long gone.
"She's been like this for days," Ravina snapped, shooting me this wild mix of daggers and pleading. "But you—you have to heal her. I don't care what you have to do. Just make her better."
I crouched beside Helen, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her in waves. I touched her head, feeling her hot head... which was burning up, and her whole body was covered in sweat, and it kept dripping, and her lips were dry.
She wasn't just hot—no, she was incandescent, like someone had tossed her into a furnace and forgotten to take her out. Her chest jerked up and down, all ragged and uneven, each breath snagging.
I wasn't a doctor, but I know it's like a Fever.
"Interesting," I murmured.
Feeling the cold touch from my fingers on her forehead, her eyes flew open, kinda shaky, like she was half-dream and half-here.
She whispered something. You could miss it if you weren't paying attention, just this tiny crackle in the silence.
She barely breathed out a word so soft you'd think you imagined it "Sister..."
Ravina gasped and leaned in fast, her hands shaking as she grabbed Helen's limp ones. "Helen, listen to me. You're gonna be okay. I already got someone. Look!" She turned to me, "Dexter, here is a healer. He'll heal you. Just stay with me, please, just stay."
I watched Helen. Same age as Ravina. Her chest rose slowly, her eyes flicking to me, weak but sharp with something I couldn't name. Begging? Suspicion?
"Sister..." Helen's lips curled into a ghost of a smile. "You don't have to worry so much. I'll be fine... Just need... a few days of rest."
Ravina's voice cracked. "How can I not worry? Look at you! You can barely lift your head!" She whipped around to face me again, her fingers digging into my arm. "Is she okay? Tell me."
I exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make Ravina's grip tighten. "Her condition is... difficult"
A lie. A simple tonic for fever, a pill for the ache in her bones—that's all it would take. But if I healed her with a flick of my wrist, what would they fear? What would they need me for?
I thought of the other women of the tribe—strong, untamed, their loyalty bound by blood and survival. They could be more than just a tribe. They could be an army. My personal army if I played this right.
Ravina's voice cut me off sharply. "Difficult? What's that supposed to mean?" She dragged me toward the hut's doorway, way stronger than she looked. It was getting dark outside, and Firelight outside carved her face into sharp edges.
"What's wrong with her? Aren't you a healer? Then heal her!" Her voice broke.
I let her shove me, let her fear bleed into the space between us. Then I caught her wrists, gentle but firm. "I never said I wouldn't treat her."
"Then what does 'Difficult' mean?" Ravina's breath came in ragged bursts.
"Her body is holding onto heat like a drowning man clings to driftwood." I lowered my voice, as if sharing a secret. "To heal her, I need to pull the heat out of her body. Slowly. Carefully."
"How?" The word was a whip-crack.
I smiled. "Leave that to me."
Ravina was looking at me with anxiousness... and I could feel Helen was trying to look at us from the bed and was even listening to our conversation.
I became quiet and just behaved like I was thinking of something and was lost in thought.
A fantasy.
Not just of healing. Not just of power.
Of possession.
These women—Ravina, Helen, the others—could be mine. Not as followers. Not as soldiers. But maybe my believers and followers who are willing to lay their lives for me if I show them my godly skills.
Ravina's voice shattered the quiet, desperate. "Do you need any herbs? I could send Sabina to get them for you?"
"No herbs." My voice was smooth, almost amused. "But I do need something else."
She lunged forward, hope flaring in her dark eyes. "Name it."
"Animal skin." I watched her reaction carefully. "Do you have any?"
Ravina hesitated, confusion flickering across her face. "Yes—we use them in winter for warmth, but...."
"Soak one in the stream." I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Every inch. Then bring it to me." I turned away, already dismissing her. "I'll check on Elder Helen. See if her body is ready for treatment."
Ravina hesitated—just long enough for you to wonder if she might crack, but then nope, she just gave this tiny, determined nod and poof, she was gone. Swallowed up by the night before I could blink.
I walked inside the hut, and bam. Helen was staring straight at me, like I'd walked in on her secret or something. She's sprawled out on those furs, not looking all that great—breathing quick and tight, chest barely keeping up.
And, man, the light coming through from outside had her sweating bullets. Beads sliding down from her collarbone, glistening all the way along her skin, pooling at the hollow above her breasts and catching on the sharp, perfect line of her nipples. Hard to ignore, honestly, the way her skin was flushed and her breath came so ragged.
But it was her eyes that held me.
Not weak. Not pleading.
Furious.
"Spit it out," she croaked, her words rough as a busted car muffler. "What's Ravina throwing away just to keep me breathing?" She let out this laugh—god, it sounded terrible, all choked up and jagged.
"Haven't I already ruined enough for her? Seriously, shove off, healer. I don't need your help," she said. Her eyes narrowed, sharp as knives. "Just go back to wherever you came from. I won't be a burden. And I won't let my people become slaves to some healer because of me."
Slaves.
The word sent a jolt through me. Slaves. Not servants. Not followers. Property.
I couldn't help but stare—she was practically vibrating with rage, eyes daring me to push just a little further. Not from fear, hell no, but like she was holding herself back by a thread.
"Slaves?" I echoed, tasting the word. "Is that what your healers take?"
Helen wrinkled her nose, disgust practically dripping off her lips. "They just... snatch it all, don't they?" Her voice caught—hard to tell if she was choking back tears or just plain fury. "Take a life, trade a body... You wanna act like you're some savior? Please. You're not the first fool to dangle fake hope in front of me."
She doubled over with a rough cough. "Trust me. I'd rather drop dead right here than ever owe you a damn thing."
I knelt right next to Helen—honestly, I could almost lick the metallic taste of her fever in the air, mixed up with that heavy, animal scent of sweat that just clings to everything. Her grip on the furs was really tight. Not because she was frail or anything, but like she was forcing herself not to grab me by the neck.
The fire kept throwing these wild shadows all over her—lighting up her heated skin, the way her breath wouldn't settle, the nipples of her tits were shiny with sweat.
Then—footsteps.
Ravina burst in, the wet animal skin draped over her arm, dripping onto the packed earth. Her eyes burned with something wild, something dangerous. She had heard Helen's words. And she had made her decision.