The Claiming

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Chapter 7

True to his word, Etan did bring Galatea an understanding handmaiden. Carlow Benet was fiercely loyal and protective to the point of ruthlessness. And she’d also had a terrible father. Marquis Benet played at piety, values, all platforms that he ran on as a Conservative senator. But underneath he was a monster, involved in the black markets, particularly slave trading, as well as supporting the controversial Forced Euthanasia bill.

Many had tried to stop, even assassinate him. In the end, it was Carlow who brought Marquis’ entire empire crashing down when she seduced her father—who had given in easily, zealously even—and filmed the whole thing. Marquis was promptly arrested for incest and lost everything. He hanged himself in prison. Carlow ran and never looked back, and Etan, who had been aware of her plans to escape her father, gave her a place to go.

Carlow was growing restless. Outside of the Frick Estate, the sky was a heavy, deep indigo and the Hours were upon them.

″This land is wild,″ she murmured to herself as a soft, warm breeze blew through the open window, bringing with it the smell of fruit and flowers.

She was naked except for the sheer, gauzy slip hanging low on her waist. Candles lit the Mistress Galatea’s chambers. Despite the strangeness of the circumstances, Carlow liked serving the Princess, and felt safe, at least on nights like this when they were here in the Lady’s room together for the Hours. Carlow could also protect Galatea from her father’s guards, and from her father.

Rumor had spread about the Princess and some of the traits she was displaying—and Maximilian had all of his people so repressed that they wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of her. Galatea was now producing very intense pheromones. As a hybrid herself, Carlow could sense that there was some foreign and powerful strand in the Princess’ bloodlines that was amplifying the Hours. And all of these wild changes were happening to the poor girl in a place where they were not handled in the proper way, where they were, in fact, nearly reviled outright. Galatea needed to spend the Hours with someone with whom she could fulfil their purpose. And Carlow was perfect for that role. Besides, she’d been asked by a close friend, one who had helped to get her out of a terrible, and similar, situation.

Carlow had always known that she was different. It was the dreams. Dreams that took her far away from her gilded life, to the forest. Then, at her coming of age when she began to feel the effects of the Hours the dreams changed along with her body. She grew more statuesque, developing hips and enviable round breasts that swelled with the energy. Carlow’s mother had been similarly beautiful. And she was also a Mother of Centaurs, a First Mother, they called them; this trait she passed along to her daughter. First Mothers were very rare, but incredibly important. Their bodies went through much more intense changes when they came of age, to prepare them for the task that Nature intended them to perform.

But she’d passed away when Carlow was very young, her destiny unfulfilled, her true nature suppressed and stifled by the arranged marriage to Marquis that she had been forced into by her own family. Marquis’ new wife was an ugly, pinched woman who either ignored Carlow or scorned her. Carlow wasn’t stupid, and she’d learned to be wary from a young age. She learned about the Hours in secret, reading and meditating and exploring her body. She could put herself into deep, trancelike fantasies to help her mind and body cope with the energetic shifts.

The fantasy changed over time, getting stronger and more detailed. First, Carlow dreamed of riding a horse naked, rubbing her clitoris at the thought of her bare sex against the powerful creature as it ran. Then she was dreaming of being alone with the animal, feeling an aching longing. It took some time before she was able to finally buy a horse of her very own. Filipi. She was drawn to him immediately. She needed a distraction, and an outlet. Her father was becoming a problem, not only for many innocent people, but for Carlow as well.

Carlow would take Filipi out for long rides—she wasn’t bold enough to strip off all of her clothes, but she wore nothing beneath her long skirt. Because of her bloodlines, Carlow was more affected by the Hours; they lasted longer and were more intense. She’d learned to lock herself away in solitude during these times. Fortunately, her father was away for an extended business trip which was a relief because he’d been making Carlow uncomfortable for some time now.

Ever since she’d come of age his glances had turned strangely lingering and hungry. His absence gave her time to take the horse over the moors, thick with mist beneath a gray sky. Alone in the quiet with Filipi and her wild, wide, pagan imagination and hungry thoughts. She would ride him fast and then slow, galloping then trotting as she ground and rocked her bare pussy against the horse in secret until she was flushed and coming. Carlow would ride for hours like this, then return home to the quiet, near-empty manor where she drew herself a bath with essence of lavender and tried to ease her frustrated body.

The Hours were waxing and her sex throbbed like never before. All of the riding had only served to tease and stoke the fire in Carlow. She lit candles and played some very soft music, trying to relax. The dreams would come soon. They slid in like a fever. She shifted in bed, rubbing against the blankets, unable to get full satisfaction. When meditating failed to work, Carlow turned on the viewbox but the programs were all ridiculous. She had, however, managed to get her hands on a very old scroll depicting an image of a centaur breeding. The image strangely thrilled her, and this had been upsetting at first. The full truth about her heritage had not been revealed to her. So she didn’t know how to feel about these strange and potent new desires.

Carlow remembered the night that she learned about it, the night she met Etan, the Physician who brought her to Galatea. It was the peak of the waning Hours and she had become almost consumed by her broodmare genes. She remembered very little about that night, only the force of her desire, that endless, throbbing ache between her legs. She didn’t remember walking out to the stable but she recalled the feeling of hay prickling at her bare skin as she crawled beneath Filipi. As if he understood her feelings perfectly, he responded as his massive cock began to emerge. It was a beautiful sight to Carlow, and she reached out her hand to stroke her horse’s quickly building erection, astonished at the feel of it under her hands, silky and yet so incredibly powerful.

He made a noise of approval and began to move a little, as if to encourage her. Then she remembered the sound of footsteps, the two men pulling her away from Filipi, the cold bite of the needle against her skin as she was injected with a sedative. When she woke, Etan had gently explained to Carlow what had happened. He also explained that Filipi would have to be sent away so as to avoid temptation. And she would need to learn how to control her energies around the hours.

″Come here, my Lady,″ Carlow said, smiling when she saw that the Princess was now awake. Galatea’s soft, golden hair fell in a cloud around her flushed skin. Under her thin nightgown, her nipples hardened. The pupils of her eyes grew wide as she took sight of Carlow. She was still so curious and hesitant about what was happening to her.

″Let’s take this off of you and make you more comfortable,″ the handmaiden said, reaching for the hem of Galatea’s nightgown and helping to pull it up over her head.

Carlow looked down and saw the Princess’ impossibly swollen pink clitoris poking out from between her folds. The sight of it sent a jolt of lust right to her core. She sat her down in a chair and reached for a hairbrush.

″You look far away, my Lady,″ she said, stroking her fingers through the flaxen strands that spilled over the girl’s bare shoulders.

″I’ve been thinking of the forest,″ she said, her eyes drifting toward the window, where they could both hear the rushing of the wind. ″Something there calls to me.″

″There’s all kinds of things in the forest,″ Carlow told Galatea in her silky musical voice, as she brushed the Princess’ hair.

″Centaurs, dryads and others. They live a different life than us. But they say that people like you and me are more like them.″ She set the brush down and cupped Galatea’s breasts as she watched them in the mirror.

″Have you been having the dreams again?″ the handmaiden asked, noticing that the Princess had begun to show the signs of the Hours after the Week of Reprieve.

″Yes,″ murmured Galatea.

″And what do you dream of?″ prompted Carlow, squeezing the ripe tits in her hands. The handmaiden was now feeling very aroused herself and though her first focus was on her Mistress’ well-being she hoped that perhaps they could both benefit together from release.

″I...t was very strange. I dreamed that I was in the forest. There was a man there, except that he wasn’t just a man, he had...his lower body was that of a horse.″

Carlow smiled and nodded. ″You were dreaming of a centaur. That’s very common for women during the Hours.″

″Where does such a creature come from?″ the Princess wondered, as a tremor ran through her.

″Long ago, when the ships crashed, certain survivors were called into the forests, rather than to build the cities,″ explained the handmaiden. ″There, they changed. They adapted and mated with the creatures there, starting new species of hybrids. Many of us have hybrid blood, in some people it is stronger and more dominant than others. And then, there are a few who are fully hybrid. When the coming of age takes place, this wakes in them, and then they must decide.″

″Decide what?″ asked Galatea.

″Which world they want to belong to,″ replied Carlow.

She set the hairbrush down, stepped back and pulled off her underclothes, then spread her legs. Taking Galatea’s hand in hers, she pressed the Princess’ slim fingers against her swollen nub and gently moved them back and forth.

After only a few moments, Carlow was overwhelmed; she pushed Galatea back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, situating their bodies so that she could grind her sex against the young Princess’. Galatea wasn’t even really sure what was happening, her handmaiden had never been this aggressive before, but she was beginning to enjoy the friction, Carlow was very beautiful and the Princess liked the way that her large breasts bounced as she moved against her.

″Oh yes, yes my Lady,″ she moaned. Then she climbed off and slid down on the bed, repositioning herself between her mistress’ legs.

Carlow held Galatea’s slender hips firmly and then brought her mouth down against her clit. The Princess’ eyelids fluttered as she was overcome by the shame and pleasure of what she was feeling as Carlow’s tongue rubbed against her, part of her wanted the handmaiden to stop—she wasn’t quite ready for this yet—but another part wanted her to continue. Her mind a riot of confusion, Galatea simply stared at the ceiling. Carlow now slid her tongue inside of her pussy, darting in and out.

″Oh, oh,″ she cried, pulling on her handmaiden’s hair. The burning tension continued to build to a peak and the Princess was only seconds away from orgasm when the door suddenly flew open. Two guards, Tyfrek and another, hurried into the room. Galatea gasped in shock but she could see a trace of a wicked grin on Tyfrek’s face.

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