Road to Yorkshire

Note of Warning: This does have a little Ped/Oral, but do remember this story is suppose to be dated around the 1600\'s.

The Fallen Maiden

I was laying in my bed without the foggiest thought or dream dancing in my vile mind, which baffled me to no extent of common law or justification that could ratify this singular moment of time. With ever aching bones, that seem to rival the dawn of time, I rose to greet the marrow’s sun with a simple flick of the wrist and extent of my best arm toward the brilliant ray of jubilant light. For years to come and years to pass, it always started this way without a second doubt, in my mind, that a prosperous hunt lay in my wake. The mild scent of fertilizer greets me in return, wafting with the smell of saucy eggs and scraps of cautiously toasted baguettes, waiting to be smothered with fresh western chili to warm my heavy heart.

Though the lands I reaped held a bountiful feast, though I do may share of planting and sowing seeds in nature, and even though I herd my own cattle from Western banks down yonder to Terrance Slope, one could feel that something was missing. On this warm spring waking, hardly a chore was done without a mild dream of what could be. In my mind, children, heirs to my land, scrambled about to feed the chicken, milk the cows, herd the sheep and ready to sheer their fleece. Things would be done faster then I could ever anticipate and extra crops could be made to harvest and sell in the nearest town of Yolksire.

Perhaps a woman would suffice in this matter. Though I have heard rumors form the simple men at Rusty Mugs’ Tavern, that females are as difficult to maintain, as they were to properly court and collect their pricey dowry from the frosty, greedy hands of their fathers. Though I needed no women with such an item like this ‘Dowry’. Money was not something a 120 season old brute like I neither needed, nor was more land going to satisfy my dark heart. From the moment of my birth, least as I could remember or be told, there was nothing and no one to aide my ventures and chores, none to set some ‘path to enlightenment’ or even set a bound of thought to fill the void within my thick skull. Simply stated, I didn’t know what I wanted. It was only a feeling that a woman would make it all the more better for me. True enough, I could speak unto the cattle and trees and they will listen without judgment nor discrimination to my morbid views of humanity and the latter species which seems to only exist outside of the human eyes with obscure cloaks of devious mysteries and merry lures… What is this perplexing sensation, which my crestfallen soul denies to except? May haps I should cast this strange tingle to the winds as a mortal chime of despairing hearts? Its bellowing cry of loneness will diffuse into the infinite sky until it becomes only another howl in the tormented winds before cut short in it’s prime; dissipating into the shattered lands and forever lost into the unforgiving threads of this fabricated reality. My god! How I envy this sensation I wish to purge from myself… Then at last I decided, after tedious moments of babbling to a stony faced deity I created only four seasons ago, to keep this sensation and allow it to burn within my heart, thinking that I shall never permit this tingle to have the freedom I so richly deserve.

Upon the marrow’s rise, to town I would ride upon my wagon, pulled by two prodigious yolks, into the bustling town of Yorkshire. Only a three morning’s traveling, picking up and dropping off trail weary peasants for a fair and common price. Yet some were women with tiny children, homeless and without husbands due to the Crimson Scar and the wars going around in the northern regions of Costina. To them I would be the most humble to, assisting each one with a gentle word and a strong arm, each time saying a silent prayer she would be taken with me... Yet I couldn\'t get the slightest hint of interest from any travel worn female on my way. The mass of my body was apparently intimidating. Hardly a word was said to me; no piping of thanks or gratitude, and even some women would refuse to travel alone with me. Pity, they would rather be slain by a wolf or ravaged by a cut-throat vagabond, then travel with one of my bulk, offering protection and a moment\'s kindness for the sake of her and little children.

It was the final day, half way to the town of Yorkshire, when I found a fallen maiden in the middle of the trail, clad in a peasant\'s smock of dulling gray hues with flaxen hair pulled back in a clay-caked bun upon her head. I pulled the wagon to the side of this road without much caution, only observing the forest about her for a moment. With a painful groan of the ancient wagon beneath my boots, I cut a path toward this poor girl. Yes, a girl no older then 52 seasons, and that make a woman not, mind you.

After seeing she was still alive… Well, I could not allow her to lay there like a beaten dog... I took her into my wagon and began to treat her to the best of my abilities, only hopping the damp clothes was cool enough her feverish flesh with a damp rag... It was hours passed, I did not leave her side for I was too curious on way a child would be so far from cottage and town without the vigilance of an elder or even an ox, ass, or horse to keep her dainty feet soft. And when she finally woke, it was night yet again and I was forced to make camp in the dark... Lying with my head propped against a soft doe hide over a hickory stump, the dancing flames licking my boot like loyal dogs before cowering away in the cool wind. I did not see nor hear anything but the chirping crickets and the back of my lids as I slept. Aden den feeling, something balled up and swirled with a wild tinge about my groin and I wake with a panting start... And at once I was aghast by the life form and image the hits these smoky blue eyes, what was this child doing. Her head was low upon my form; she had undone my tailored pants and was. My God in heaven would not permit me to speak of this uncivilized action, yet I could not stop her. My insides quaked with a mixing sensation of horror and some familiar tingle rising like the putrid bile my throat was begging to release. I should of kick this child’s head and hungry mouth away, yet these damnable limbs were as stiff as my own organ and for the first time I could ever recall, I was trapped… My own muscles restrained any motive of escape. As I once heard, there are worse things then death and one is waiting for this supple female to remove her sultry orifice from me-God help her if I do, this vile little wretch will pay for thinfornfortunately, I could not suppress the ascending feelings and I groaned from this stirring, releasing a guttural bellow that rolled forth from the pits of my icy heart, yet it melts and gushes in a fiery stream into her mouth… God forgive me. I could not move for a moment longer, wide hips rising to buck against the moist confines… And soon, she pulled away, leaving my member slightly swollen with a curious color of a dull purplish hue. Trying to keep my breath under control, peratiration rolled in divine little beads from my head and chest, I could not tell how long this girl had violated my privacy, but I was determined to make her understand how displeased I was with this rapist count against me.

“ Wait.” This Child cooed with a delicate note, it made her seem like she was younger and older then she really was and all at once without the slightest hint of which was oh so true! Grey eyes sparkling to some unseen illumination as a kinky smile played upon those thick sherry lips… A single poor soul she was, just casting off that gray smock and, perhaps, thinking this was the proper way to repay me for such kindness. She simply told me to come… That she was ready… That she was a woman now… such a deranged young thing!

Diffusing supple thighs, beholding a slight hazy look as if she felt no shame or indignation for this startling action. Oh, I would beseech any to know that I am a mountain man and, hold no question; I was tempted to take that offered… Yet.... I was afraid. Not for myself, mind one, yet for this… This girl was not what I thought her to be. Her flat chest and smooth body, holding all the ginger of a woman my own age, or at least that is how I could describe it. Rusty red hair curled and twirled about a classic façade of charm, falling to cover the smooth chest to some extent. Though, a female’s body was something I had never seen in my dreary life, it was tempting, yet if I did accept, I would not know of what to do or were to start…

I would have to decline, lowering my head, as I was ashamed of myself, while the girl looked upon this and most have mistook it for modesty or some count of nobility! A chivalrous action committed by a simpleton brute; thus forth becoming more confused with my unseen gesture, yet uncomfortably grateful with my lack of lust…

… For once, I cease to add an item to my list of sins…




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Author\'s Note: If you made it through the story, thank you. I hope you review for if this thing does well, i am perpared to write at least two more... And prehaps in a different style... But really, that is up to those who review.. See you around. ^-^