This is adult material. If you're under the age of consent,
leave. If you're afraid reading poorly-written descriptions of
sexual behavior might scar your mind, don't blame me. I'm not
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Do not republish this material without my permission.


Siring

by Enkidu


Chapter 9. (MF anal)

An Evening at the Inn and a Day at the Market

	We didn't stay long at the hamlet, as Mara really was hoping
we'd make it to town before nightfall, and the rest of the trip
was quite dull. Two women joined us, loaded with their own goods
for market, and Mara spent most of the trip making small-talk
about vegetable gardens and the weather and catching up on some
choice gossip. Did you know so-and-so tried trapping a wolf and
caught a whole family of ducks instead? I didn't. It was early
evening when we reached Torochoza and what passed for its inn, a
relatively large though visibly aged two-story wooden building
with a stylized bull's head on its shingle. We corralled the
sheep into a pen outside with many others and headed inside.
	The town was not large. Actually, that's a severe
understatement. Its seventy houses and population of two or three
hundred would barely have qualified it as the most meager village
were this world not so severely depopulated after what Classus
had called the Withering. As things stood, it was the largest
town within at least three days' walk in any direction, and this
meant it got to host market gatherings for surrounding homesteads
like my own two wards'. Homes looked very mixed: some stone, some
brick, mostly timber or wattle-and-daub. Some were visibly still
abandoned. But they had a general store and a water-mill and a
market square and an inn, and that, in context, made them
somebody. The atmosphere was both busier and slightly more
restrained, though lacking any of Espera's formality. Women
greeted me quietly, politely, in the local fashion, bowing from
the waist with palms crossed over their chests.
	The inside of the inn smelled, not horribly but with that
inescapable stuffiness brought by closely-packed bodies for
decades on end. It was in good repair and clean, though the
woodwork showed heavy wear, like a depression a couple fingers
thick in the steps of the stairway to the guest rooms above. Mara
quickly shooed me to a large table along the back wall of the
dimly-lit common room, and returned with two new faces and
several mugs of thick beer.
	"Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire." They bowed and sat
without further ritual. Both were dressed in light, breezy brown
tunics cut fairly low at the neck, showing the shifting masses of
their breasts whenever they moved. Summer-wear, I surmised. One
was Mara's friend from the hamlet, Tamane, a woman visibly of
middle age, which I assumed would put her real age near a
hundred. She had an unnervingly steady look in her eye and a
continual smirk pulling one corner of her mouth upwards. Her hair
was dark and straight, roughly cropped relatively short. The
other was the inn-keeper herself, Stilena. I fought not to raise
an eyebrow at the name, remembering Mara's mention of Stilena and
her sex toy after I'd fucked Stinneh's ass. She carried a golden
armlet above her elbow, similar to Cara's. The three women eased
into a casual conversation, Stilena occasionally turning and
asking me politely prodding questions. How did Espera look when I
left it last month, were there many ships from the south coming
in, had I traveled along the coast much or up into the mountains,
oh and by the way (with a quick glance at an apprehensive Mara)
did I plan on staying long in the area?
	"I have no plans to move on in the near future." I answered
cautiously. "I might cross the mountains northwards next spring."
	"Northwards? Oh they'll be happy to hear that up there. With so
many sires leaving Espera by ship, the towns along the road are
eager to offer their service." She winked at me.
	"Seems to be the way the farther inland you go." Tamane nodded
thoughtfully. "Lots more young'uns in the port towns, with ships
bringing the goods" her eyes darted surreptitiously to me "right
to them. What can we do to get them here? An ox-cart hobbling
over broken roads nobody can mend anymore? Now if only the
magisters would take to laying down good stone roads like they
had in the old days..."
	From there, the conversation shifted to local politics again and
I was free to look around the room and eavesdrop around nearby
tables. Torochoza was large enough to be split among four men,
though mostly one named Meryn who no longer lived locally, having
just founded his estate some way up the road. A few young girls
at a table toward the door, teenagers by the looks of them, were
shrilly debating among themselves whether to remain in their
mothers' homes or take up life on the estate. From the middle of
the room I could hear a heated discussion about whether
such-and-such had cheated such-and-such other on a trade of
several crates of tomatoes. A couple of girls moved between the
kitchens and the tables carrying plates of food. Being a warm
summer night, many of the women had whipped off their various
robes, dresses, tunics and blouses and were casually sitting
round topless, chatting as though nothing could be more natural.
And really, they were right. Tits peeked above tabletops in every
direction: tiny, adolescent buds, rounded fully-grown orbs,
heavy, drooping globes of flesh. About two dozen women filled the
room and almost half had stripped to their waist. It wasn't long
before Stilena too shrugged off the upper half of her garment,
revealing a pair of elongated breasts tipped with large aureolae
and wide nipples. A young girl brought us each a small portion of
grilled chicken and a large portion of salad and we dug in,
famished after the day's trip and other... adventures.
	By the time I looked up again the inn was packed. Many women who
had come for tomorrow's market were spending the evening chatting
with their friends from the village, and many tables had upright
logs pulled up to them as impromptu chairs. Stilena had to excuse
herself, hike up her clothing and get back to work serving the
multitude, and her place was taken by five women of varying
shapes, sizes and state of undress. Across the room I was
surprised to see my first male face in a month: a small-framed,
dark-haired man who raised his mug to me by way of greeting. I
returned the gesture and learned from the woman to my right that
his name was Stephan.
	"I'm Melia, by the by." She added quickly before I could get
distracted by someone else. "Sorry I didn't greet you properly
when we sat down. It's just so full here tonight." Melia turned
out to be small and light-skinned with long straight black hair
flowing down her back. She was wearing a light, bright
floral-print dress, somewhat eye-popping but certainly festive,
and seemed in the mood to talk. We chatted about favorite foods,
favorite animals, favorite weather. Despite its banality, the
conversation felt oddly like an interview. We were interrupted at
one point as a cheer went up and two new women were funneled
straight from the door to the small wooden stage by the kitchen.
For the next fifteen minutes or so we were treated to a
fiddle-and-flute medley of various up-tempo tunes, and everyone
clapped and cheered when they were done. They almost weren't
allowed to leave the stage until Stilena burst through the
kitchen door with a platter of food yelling:
	"Leave them be, leave them in peace for now, let's get some food
in them first!"
	Melia turned to me again and said:
	"It's always nice to get some music or juggling or puppetry
around harvest or midwinter feast or market days."
	"Oh, sure." I agreed.
	"It's fun to see other shows too. Like one time a magister was
coming through and he showed us all the new balloons they're
making." She grinned girlishly at the memory. I nodded, not given
enough time to get a word in edgewise before she continued.
	"And of course, around big gatherings, we usually get some bouts
between sires. It always makes us nervous, but it's a good
nervous."
	"Uh-huh" I intoned, starting to see she was working up to
something here.
	"Like tomorrow, there's like to be three or four sires, counting
you, at the market. Someone's coins' are bound to trade hands."
She stared at me inquisitively.
	"They might, yes." At this, her eyes widened and I felt an
immediate impulse to bite my tongue, not knowing what I'd gotten
myself into. Her gaze shifted a bit over my shoulder and Mara,
who had obviously been listening in, tapped me on my left arm and
started to ask me what I thought was needed from the shop
tomorrow. By the time I'd admitted I had no idea, Melia had slid
out of her seat and was whispering something in Tamane's ear, who
eyed me knowingly and whispered something back. As Mara attempted
to keep me distracted, going so far as to blatantly drop the top
of her dress and massage her breasts at me, I noticed Melia
quickly scurrying through the crowded common room stopping by a
few tables to whisper in one woman or another's ear, ending by
flagging down Stilena for some more awkwardly secretive
murmuring. A couple of them glanced at me and shook their heads.
Another gave a noncommittal sideways nod. Soon I really did lose
track and by half an hour later when the crowd began to thin and
we ourselves got up, I'd forgotten all about the event.
	The music picked up again inside as we went out into the cooling
night air. I had assumed Mara had some plans for the night's
lodgings regardless of the inn being full so thought nothing of
her exchanging a few quick words with Tamane at the door, who
pointed her to a much younger woman. They bartered for a few
seconds, the other stealing a covert glance at me, and Mara
informed me we'd be staying with her for the night.
	Mezina, as her name turned out to be (and by now my head was
spinning with all the new recent acquaintances) turned out to
live alone in a small, single-room stone cottage at the other
edge of the village. It was half-buried in a small hillside but
quite clean and cozy in the light of our oil lamp. Mezina herself
was a tiny young woman whose head didn't even reach my shoulder,
with long black hair and slim features. She chatted a bit with us
in a low, pleasant voice, asking how long we'd be staying, etc.
Walking through the still summer darkness, we overheard laughter
from some houses, arguments from others, and the sounds of
passion from one.  A quiet little village has no secrets. Once we
entered, Mezina announced the bed was ours and she'd be taking a
bedroll on the floor. I almost protested, but Mara quickly nodded
in approval and stripped off her dress. Both women stared
expectantly at me. I took off my shirt and Mezina cocked her
head, eyeing up my torso without any restraint as she fiddled
with her own dress. Mara excused herself to the outhouse and rain
barrel and I was left to admire Mezina's slowly unveiled body.
Her breasts were tiny, not even a mouthful, topped with large,
dark nipples. Her figure was a bit bony but she had a nice flare
to her hips and high, fit buttocks which she  shamelessly waved
about in the lamplight while taking entirely too long to spread
out the bedroll. Mara came back in, her body glistening with
water, and informed me she'd left the soap by the rain barrel.
Washing up after my own bedtime pit-stop, I wondered how much
subtext I was missing here.
	I needn't have worried about "sub"-text. As I entered the
cottage, the hushed conversation they'd been having died abruptly
and both women eyed me expectantly. Or rather, eyed my trousers.
Seeing me hesitate in front of our hostess, Mara clarified the
situation. She knelt up on the straw bed on her hands and knees,
spread her legs and offered service as she would in the comfort
of her own home.
	"I beg your gifts, Master." And as an afterthought, she settled
her upper half on the bed, reached back with both hands and
spread her buttocks. "However you wish to give them."
	I glanced at Mezina who only smirked, tight-lipped, and stared
from Mara's offering to the bulge of my growing erection. She was
sitting against the far wall of her cottage and seemed to have no
intention of looking away. Maybe the show was part of our fee for
the night? I dropped my pants and flipped them to the side,
stroking my erection to full size. Mezina's hand dove between her
thighs as her eyes widened a bit measuring my tool. Mara reached
next to the bed where she'd already set her little bottle of
lubricant aside and held it back for me.
	"Did you want to find out tonight, Sire? If my ass-hole is
tighter than my cunt?" Mezina snorted a little laugh at this,
then bit her lip. I decided that if Mara was having a little joke
at my expense, I'd indeed make her work for it, and emptied the
last drops of the oil onto her anus then tossed the empty bottle
beneath her face on the bed. As I began to work the oil into her
sphincter, she suddenly piped up:
	"Hey that's what we need from the store, tail-oil. We should put
it together with the rest so I don't forget." She made a show of
looking around the room, winking at Mezina.
	"Oh, I think I can make certain you remember." I assured her and
shoved my index finger up her rear up to the second knuckle,
making her catch her breath, then brought my hips close to slap
my cock against an ass cheek. They both giggled at this. I worked
my finger fully into her then retracted it. Noticing she'd
reached back to tweak her clit, I used my free hand to tease her
labia apart, then added a second finger to her anus. The tiny,
muscular ring stretched reluctantly, first resisting then quickly
engulfing my fingers, turning from a minute point lost in the
middle of her lush womanly posterior to a hungry little oval
begging to be stretched apart. A few downy hairs encircled it,
running into the thickening bush down her perineum and around her
pussy, the fleshy cream-colored buttocks I'd admired over the
past two weeks sloped enticingly away from it then dipped up to
her languidly arching back and I could feel her scorching rectum
sucking at my fingers, sphincter tensing and relaxing as it
widened. No wonder any man who bent her over wanted to sodomize
her. I wondered what would make for polite conversation while
fingering a woman's holes in preparation for violating her
tightest orifice under the eyes of a perfect stranger.
	"Stinneh told me all your past sires have enjoyed taking you
this way, you know... and that you've enjoyed it too." Mara
rolled her eyes on hearing this and huffed.
	"Stinneh's got a big fat mouth that needs to get filled with big
fat meat more often. It's not like they weren't ramming through
her own back door too now and again. But yes, surely, once I got
used to it I came to like getting shafted up the rear. Not as
good as getting shafted up the front, but it still gets my blood
racing. I think I'm ready."
	More than ready myself, I wiped my lubed fingers onto my cock,
added a bit of spit to help matters along and lined up the
swollen helmet with her exit-hole. I pressed against the rubbery
ring of flesh. It dimpled, but didn't give. I savored the soon to
be overcome resistance, eased off a second to let her relax then
grabbed her hip with my free hand and pulled her back steadily
until finally I felt the clenched ring of tissue slide over my
cock-head. Mara grunted and tensed up. I waited, ripples of
pleasure tingling along my spine as the frustrated muscle
twitched a couple of times, attempting in vain to close below the
crown of my penis. Our breath halted for a few moments as more
and more flesh pressed through the opening. Then we both moaned
in unison as I drove the last of my cock in, and Mezina whimpered
softly, her tiny frame already shaking with an orgasm, eyes
widely, shamelessly staring at the meeting point of our hips and
one hand burrowed between her squeezing thighs muffling the soft
wet noises from her pussy. We stopped a bit savoring the
sensation of my manhood lodged at full depth into her bowels,
then I braced my hands on her ass cheeks and almost collapsed
with pleasure at her sphincter's delicious sweep along my
retreating pole. Small groans came from her lips where she was
bracing her upper half against the bed as I got to fucking her
now relaxing orifice more decisively, rocking back and forth
gradually speeding up as the decreasing opposition eased my
entry. After some few minutes of this I'd almost forgotten
Mezina, until a high-pitched exhalation from the bedroll signaled
her second orgasm. My balls now soaked in her pussy juice, I gave
a few rapid shallow thrusts then buried myself fully into Mara's
rectum and sprayed it with another seemingly endless torrent of
semen, spurt after spurt flooding up into her until we collapsed
onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Slightly dazed, I only
half registered her body shuddering as she fingered herself to an
orgasm, her anus finally expelling my intruding member. Mara
cuddled back against me, sighing.
	"Mmm. Did it please you, Sire? Did my narrow back door give you
pleasure?"
	"You know it did, you delicious morsel. You felt that pleasure
filling you." I replied gently slapping her inviting derriere
then moving my hand over her to cup her large, soft breasts.
Feeling my prick return to life, I considered riding her again
before sleeping, but our little day-trip had left me too
exhausted. We went outside to clean up, the sound of splashing
water amplified by the darkened village's growing silence. Mezina
was waiting for us wrapped in a simple blanket, still naked
underneath, and once she blew out the lamp we dropped off to a
dreamless, restful sleep.
	The sun was barely up the next day yet the village was already
full of commotion. A cacophony of animals' and women's voices
rode the morning breeze to Mezina's little cottage. Inside, the
two women were busying themselves at the table and muttering
inaudibly. Mezina had coiled her long hair in a complicated
looping bun on the top of her head and slipped on a colorful
green and yellow floral-patterned dress but Mara's red-and-yellow
clothes were still draped over a chair, a blanket loosely
covering her nudity in the chill morning air. They turned their
heads upon hearing me stir. Mara grinned:
	"I was wondering when they'd wake you. We're almost ready to
head out."
	"Mmm-hmm" Mezina confirmed "and I'll be going on ahead with the
foodstuffs. You can just bring your sheep when, ah, when you're
done here, Mara." She pointed to my morning wood tenting the thin
sheet covering me and bowed. "Thank you for the honor of your
visit, Sire." She rushed out the door. As soon as it closed Mara
advanced and bent over me above the bed with her silky dark brown
hair hanging just low enough to partially obscure her heavy
breasts peeking out of the blanket where she gripped it around
herself.
	"Service, my Sire?" She intoned coyly, and gave me a peck on the
lips. Smiling like a madman, I reached up and wrapped my arms
around her, pulling her down on top of me for a deeper kiss,
mashing her tits into my chest. When she reached up to hold my
face, I sniffed. My cock, already painfully stiff, flexed against
her belly. She smiled and offered me her pussy-flavored fingers
to suck.
	"I've been making ready for you. May I mount you as Stinneh does
in the mornings?"
	Though tempted to demand her ass again, I badly needed relief,
so I grabbed the globes of her butt and lifted her a bit. Taking
this as approval, she reached down and pointed my cock to her
dripping wet sex. I had no trouble entering her this time. She'd
worked herself up into a high state of arousal already and
without any further preliminaries she began shafting herself. For
my own part, I sank my hands into her bouncing knockers and
thrust up into her as best I could, the accelerating slapping
noises surely audible outside by now along with our grunting. At
this pace, it took a very short time for Mara's narrow channel to
bring me to orgasm. She accelerated as she felt the first
tell-tale swellings inside her and moaned in frustration as the
semen began to spurt:
	"Not yet, not yet, no, not yet, not yyyyiiiinnnggh" she grunted
loudly, face twisted into a look of intense concentration, as she
ground her clitoris down into my hips with a few last rapid,
shallow strokes, managing to get herself off. She needn't have
worried. I held her panting against me while our orgasms
subsided. Realizing something, she looked into my eyes
questioningly and moved up and down once on my still-hard cock,
happy to continue as long as I could.
	"Get on your hands and knees" I said and stepped off the bed.
Mara cheerfully complied and threw a lustful look over her
shoulder at my stiff length slick with our juices. Between her
eagerly splayed thighs, wet matted pubic hair framed a dripping
cunt hanging slightly open. I gripped her firm, curvy
hindquarters, sank my fingers into her flesh and penetrated her
fully with one long stroke, pushing a grunt out of both our
throats. I set a frenzied rhythm and she reciprocated, slapping
her ass back against me. Her sloppy cunt squelched and trembled
around me every time I retreated. I slowed as she spasmed in
orgasm, then picked up the pace again for a couple of minutes
until finally letting go, sending a second load to join the first
against her womb. Realizing I'd collapsed on top of her back, I
rolled off and we lay there catching our breath for a minute.
	"Hooooo..." she exclaimed cupping her vagina "I've never taken
so much seed in so short a time. Thank you for your gifts!" She
cuddled up to me, beaming with genuine gratitude while I hugged
her soft warm form to me. Despite the night and morning's
activities, I knew a short break would let me catch a third wind.
No sense in missing the market, though. Mara had sheep to sell.
	So after washing and dressing, we walked out to the market
grounds on the edge of the village. I knew by and large to expect
a dusty, reeking, dull affair from a small village's marketplace,
yet still the festive atmosphere was infectious. Flute music rang
from one end of the grounds and a fiddle from the other.
Sometimes they even tried to play the same tune. Carts lined the
road filled with various goods and a few tables and tents
dominated the scene. The dealing was wheeling, with currency,
livestock, food, clothes, tools and everything else changing
hands all around us. Crowds formed around travelling performers
by the banks of a nearby river: a juggler here, a poet there. A
little patch of dirt had been covered in an impromptu rough
creaky wooden stage where two large women sweating in garish
costumes complete with ludicrously convoluted hats played out a
very famous dialogue from a legend I'd never heard about,
bellowing their lines in between the hooting or laughter of the
crowd.
	All in all, between one and two hundred women constantly
shuffled in between the rows of merchants. I dropped Mara off at
her stand and wandered about a bit. Men hold no money or property
so I couldn't do much shopping, but any seller would usually
provide some small inexpensive goods for free. So after getting a
couple of nails replaced in my shoes by a stout middle-aged
cobbler with the knottiest man-hands I'd ever seen and putting a
smile on a young singer's face by cheering her lovely rendition
of... some ballad, I stopped for a slice of bread with a bit of
tangy vegetable spread on top. It was a hot day and a few women
had casually stripped to the waist in the shade of nearby trees
but aside from that the event was decidedly non-sexual. If
anything many villagers seemed a bit over-dressed, and seeing
them strutting about in their finest long dresses and skirts,
some with ridiculous sorts of airy sleeves and decorated hats
which competing fashions dictated, I swore I could've been at any
crowded market throughout most of human history. There were quite
a few children about, signs that my fellow sires were attending
to their duties quite diligently. The younger girls stared at me
shyly while a clump that looked like teenagers pointed and
giggled, whispering rapidly. A couple of women were cradling
babies in their arms, showing them off to crowds of cooing
hopeful mothers-to-be.
	I stopped by an apothecary's table, staring curiously at the
various concoctions. This close to Espera there was no disease to
speak of, but still the ancient profession found its uses.
Headaches, sore muscles and joints, unguents for cuts and
scrapes, were all addressed. There was however, one preparation I
was hoping to find but was somewhat hesitant to ask about with
all the women crowding near. I didn't have to worry. The
apothecary herself, a thin bony white-haired woman taller than
me, noticed my searching gaze and tapped her finger on a flask of
clear liquid.
	"Tail-oil, Sire. Fresh from Espera. I'd be honored if you'd take
some."
	I fished the little empty bottle out of my leather purse and
handed it to her nervously. I felt my face getting red. Seven or
eight strange women were crowded around the table, and all knew
only all too well what I was doing with the viscous liquid. Well,
maybe not all.
	"What's tail-oil, mommy?" A little girl standing only up to her
mother's waist next to me looked up and asked innocently.
	"It's a very slippery oil, dear."
	"Why's it called that though? Is it made out of tails?" The girl
insisted.
	"No, dearest." The mother patiently explained as all the women
around began to grin wickedly "It's called that because it mostly
goes up our tail-holes."
	"That's silly. Why?" Like most children, the little girl
completely failed to pick up on any awkwardness in the situation.

	"It's for when a Sire wants to use that opening, to make it all
slippery for him."
	"That's so silly!" The little girl broke out into fits of
giggles as the old woman handed me the refilled bottle and I
slinked away. Finally, I realized the awkwardness was entirely in
my own head. Any sexual context was completely lost on the child,
but it didn't matter in the first place. She had not been taught
to fear sexuality and so simply ignored it while focusing on what
to her was the comedic aspect of the notion. Butts are, after
all, the pinnacle of six-year-old humor. The women around were
merely sharing in her innocent fun, condemning no part of the
conversation.
	I wandered about for a while longer then helped myself to a mug
of complimentary wine and sat on the grass under a tree observing
a tighter knot of people moving through the crowd: Stephan and
various of his servants. Curiously enough, while they nodded
politely as they passed me, the villagers seemed to be avoiding
me either through politeness or reticence. Most of the villagers,
at least. Shadows peeking over my shoulder prompted me to turn,
and I found myself facing Tamane, Stilena and a much younger
woman. I swallowed. They looked friendly enough, but I know a
delegation when I see one.
	"If it please you, may we sit with you, Sire?" Tamane bowed
respectfully.
	"Yes, of course, I'll be glad of some company." They gathered up
their long skirts a bit and knelt before me on the grass. After
asking if I were enjoying the day and other platitudes, Tamane
got down to the business at hand.
	"Will you pardon my asking, Sire, as to whether you're planning
on claiming more servants up toward the mountains or down
seaward?"
	"Well, uphill, I suppose. I mean, I hear the fishing villages
are more crowded but I wouldn't really know which way to head
yet. Though, this whole area has little need for another Sire."
	"Oh, that's not wholly true." Tamane smiled as though I'd played
right into her trap. "You see, there are a few scattered
households a new Sire might claim. Take young Tora here" she
nodded toward the younger woman, who was listening attentively
and weighing me with her eyes "who's been living with her mother
and sister out west in the hills, and no claim laid on them these
past two years. Have you been up that way?"
	"Only as far as the river's head."
	"Oh, our house is just a little way uphill." The new girl chimed
in, a bit shyly. Her face was rounded and full, her features were
soft and hinted at a slight plumpness beneath her dress. Her hair
was dark brown and curly. She was as short as Mezina. Strong,
dark eyebrows gave her otherwise babyish face a stern expression.
She went on, growing more excited. "You can follow the little
stream that flows into the river below the source and then just
turn uphill where the forest ends... I mean... I mean if you
would want to..." She trailed off and lowered her gaze. Stilena
cleared her throat and added helpfully:
	"Tora's mother, Berna, has been hoping to find a new Sire for
herself and the girls, what with the younger one never having
been Sired before" she raised her eyebrows meaningfully and
allowed the corners of her mouth to turn slightly upward "and
charged Tora with finding one willing to claim them as far off
the road as they are. We merely thought she may wish to speak
with you, after meeting you last night." She nodded to Tamane and
both busybodies rose, bowed formally, and excused themselves,
leaving me with the hopeful young lady. We both cleared our
throats and grinned at the coincidence, but she remained quiet,
waiting for me to speak. My first impulse was to jump her, but I
felt decorum might dictate I play coy for a few minutes.
	"So, Tora, how old are you?"
	"Five and twenty. They tell me I still keep the look and bearing
of a child, but I'm a woman." She sniffed.
	"And there are three of you?"
	"Yes, Sire, my mother, myself and my younger sister."
	"How much younger?"
	"She will make her sixteenth year this autumn. She knows little
of pleasing, but she learns quickly and she is very eager for a
Sire's gifts."
	Sweet sixteen, no fifteen... my heart skipped a beat. My cock
lurched slightly.
	"And your mother?"
	"She's five and fourscore as best she can reckon, but
grandmother didn't have her numbers right so it's not sure. She
looks youthful still, and much like myself in her face and body,
though her bosom is quite a bit larger. Our past Sires have
greatly enjoyed her service." At this she paused slightly and
furrowed her brow. "I suppose they must have done for me to be
here."
	"And that was two years ago?" I tried to remember Stinneh's
comment. They'd probably been servicing the same man then, and
were going to now as well. Slowly I began to realize theirs was
one of the houses the sisters had told me about. And the
huntresses. And who knows how many other subtle hints I'd missed.
	"Yes. There's been some talk of Sire Stephan extending his claim
to us, but with you challenging him later, things may work out
either way."
	"Wait, what? I'm doing what?"