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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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She wasn't sure now what had woken her, she couldn't quite place the impulse that had made her rise from her bed in the ancient old manor house that she as lucky enough to call home. It seemed to her that a distant calling had become part of her conscious self, and that not following it would lead her to miss something vital, something essential, something she had craved for so long but could not understand or even visualise.
Quietly, she had slipped from her bed and walked on tip toes down the long polished wooden corridor to the stairs, carefully negotiating the ancient oak boards so that she didn't disturb the other occupants asleep in their beds. Easing the massive front door open, she had slipped through and out into the bright moonlit night. Now crossing the immaculate lawn, the grass sprang softly under her bare feet, and looking behind her she could see her path traced in the dew, regular confident steps contrasting boldly with the silvered grass around them. Her light cotton nightdress, all that she wore, clung tightly to her body, the warmth of the day had long since gone, and looking down she could see her nipples thrusting confidently through the sheer material. She was conscious of her arousal, and the combination of that, the cold and her trepidation was making her nipples achingly hard and pointedly prominent. Often before in the night when she had woken unexpectedly she had taken pleasure in touching her breasts and more intimate places, imagining other touches that she had yet to know but longed to feel. Tonight though, the call had come stronger, causing her to leave her bed and come out into the now magical garden.
Reaching the edge of the lawn, she stopped, the gravel of the long driveway stretching silver under the clear moonlight like a moorland stream. In the distance where the driveway skirted the parkland lake, she could see the water glimmering with the sparkle of a thousand diamonds, so inviting, so mysterious. She had stolen away in hot summer days to the small boathouse on the laken, and lain naked beneath the suns hot rays, bathing without shame in the cooling clear waters, revelling in the sensuousness of her nudity. She contemplated making her way to the lakeside now, but the calling seemed to direct her otherwise. As she stood, she felt the hem of her cotton gown lift slightly, and the ripple of what felt like breath cross her legs. She noticed that whilst her nightdress lifted in the invisible breeze, the tall standing grass around her moved not. As she stood, the soft breath of wind seemed to move up her legs, soft as a feathers touch, caressing her skin, touching now her most intimate of openings. She closed her eyes, unconsciously opening her legs to let the wind play longer. As she did so, the breeze travelled downwards, the sensation of small hands upon her body reaching her ankles and seemingly travelling from her, away into the dark woods beyond. She felt compelled to follow, entering the belt of massive trees that extended up high onto the moorland that surrounded the estate that her parents had crafted lovingly to provide the perfect family home. She had played in the woods often, her cousins and friends and sometimes even the pretty little chamber maid who had attended her for over a year now. In daylight, the wood was a beautiful and dappled place, the sunlit breaking through the canopy of leaves to light the soft forest floor, musty with the leaves of a thousand years and full of scuttling wildlife.
As she moved beneath the dark branches, realisation developed that the path she was following led to a circular clearing where she had often sat sketching on the solid grey stones that stood in the very centre of the woodland glade. Once, alone, she had undressed there and lain full length upon the stone, the contours of rock pressing into her, her arms outstretched and inviting. She had not known then what had made her display herself thus, but in so doing she had felt as if there were eyes upon her all the time, although she knew in truth that she was fully alone.
Walking on, she senses rather than heard what seemed to be the murmur of voices. As she neared the glade, she thought she caught a glimpse of golden light as if from a torch held high. She stopped, suddenly afraid and unsure, and turned to leave when, out of nowhere hands grasped her, pinning her arms tightly to her, turning her to the path and walking her onwards towards the glade. Strangely, her fear subsided as she allowed herself to be lead unresisting along the path. Looking forward, it appeared to her that the glade was full of people, all looking in her direction, smiling, warm, inviting. Without warning, her sight was cut off as a bag was placed over her head, muffling sound and leaving her disorientated. The hands continued to guide her, but now more forcefully and the voices around her seemed to be more urgent, more demanding. Carefully, she considered her own responses. She knew that her nipples were still erect and hard, and that between her legs the flesh of her sex would be pronounced and glistening wet, signalling her arousal. Instinctively she knew that tonight that same flesh would be parted, her body penetrated for the first time, and her longing for that moment grew ever stronger within her. Her very soul seemed to be aflame with desire, the flame of wanting burning bright within her.
The hands stopped her, pinioning her tight, then turned her full circle as if to face someone or something. All fell silent, her own breathing loud, her heart pounding in her ears.
A voice - 'Welcome to the Glade, my child. You enter with us with virginal knowledge and the body to match. You shall leave a woman. This place shall see your second birth. To this place your very life will be tied, and to this place shall you return when all is dust and you but a memory'
Her heart stirred deep in her chest. The voice, calming and melifluos, somehow familiar, belonging she knew to someone who would soon possess her entirely. She yearned for his touch, to feel him, for his entry into her. Her life closed in to this point, she knew now that fulfilment lay with her this night. Through the hood, she sensed him coming closer to her and then felt his hands take hold upon the collar of her nightdress, drawing it from her, up over her head to leave her naked before the crowd. She gasped as the night air touched her body, a myriad of senses as her skin adjusted to the chill and the sensation of her vulnerability. A murmur arose from the crowd around her, appreciative of her beauty. Those who watched saw the moonlit bright upon the alabaster skin of this virginal woman, her breasts firm and standing proud from her body, her flat stomach down to the cleft between her legs, darkened now by shadow with only the faintest trace of soft downy hair upon her raised pubis.
Under her hood, she heard now the crowd begin to chant - the words clear 'to the woods we give this gift, for succour take this body, enter her and pierce her virgin flesh to be yours, spirit of the glade'. The voices raised in unison, chatting rhythmically 'anoint, anoint, anoint' and she felt hands upon her, moving smoothly across her body as they covered her slickly with a musky perfume, she felt her nipples rubbed, her legs opened and fingers touch her, her bottom opened and her most deeply personal orifice massaged with the warming oil. As her body was covered, heat began to build upon her skin, and she realised that the balm applied to her contained some extract that was intended to fire her body and warm her skin. In the folds of her undefiled womanhood, the balm was fire upon the delicate flesh. As the hands flew across her body, her pleasure in their touch grew until she felt that she could bear it no more. Her arousal now was intense, and she knew she was being prepared for a ritual that would change her forever. At last, the hands stopped and around her again silence fell. Far away she heard the strike of the church clock, one o'clock. The timing seemed significant for those around her stirred and muttered 'it is time'. Again, she sensed a presence in front of her, arms reaching behind her then felt the roughness of leather against her neck, the clink of a buckle and she realised a collar had been fastened around her neck. To her ankles and wrists she felt the same applied, and then roughly she was pulled forward by the collar, stumbling slightly as her feet found the uneven ground beneath them. She walked but a few steps, before being stopped. The murmurs if the crowd changed again, and in the chant she could hear the words 'enter her, spirit of the glade'.
Swiftly the hood was taken from her head, and she gasped as she saw before her a mighty wooden phallus planted deep from the forest floor. The tip gleamed in the bright moonlight, and the surface glowed with a dark lustre. More collars were now positioned around her thighs and her upper body beneath her breasts, and she saw hanging from the massive oak branches ropes and hooks above the mighty phallus. Again she was led forward, and now the ropes were positioned on the collars that bound her. At length, all were attached, and those performing the task moved away, leaving her alone in the centre of the glade with the phallus and one hooded figure.
He spoke 'Child, your transition has begun. Many before have journeyed this way, their innocence gifted to the spirits of the glade'. Her eighteen years had, she knew, been leading to this point. She felt no fear, her body was ready and the fire on her skin aroused her intensely.
With a jerk she was lifted from the forest floor, her body rising as the ropes pulled her upwards. Her legs were drawn inexorably apart, she was held in the iron like grip of the ropes, the collars chafing her tender skin as she was drawn above the up thrusting phallus. The monster object glinted below her, poised menacingly between her now wide open legs. Slowly she descended, her legs flung wide as if in flight, until with absolute precision the tip of the defiler touched her soft open flesh. Lower she sank, her weight bearing her down upon the well oiled shaft. She felt her flesh begin to yield open to the relentless pressure, the girth of the phallus forcing her ever more open. Where she had expected solid unmoving tumescence, with a start she realised that the massive shaft was quivering as if alive, sending waves of pleasure into her across her wide spread lips. Her own wetness and the balm combined in luxuriant smoothness to ease the passage of entry, until suddenly she felt a tear within her and her body slid wholly onto the quivering member. The ropes slackened, impaling her legs and arms outstretched upon the very shaft of nature, as she writhed upon the hard member her body aflame with passion and desire. She knew not how long she rode the up thrust manhood, but with incredible force she felt her body contract as wave upon wave of intense pleasure crashed through her every sense. She felt the phallus quiver the more, and then contract and swell matching her own orgasmic pleasure. Spent, she hung limply in the forests rope web, her wetness running freely down the now still shaft upon which she still rode.
She became aware then of the ropes tightening, lifting her from her sylvanian lover. Reluctantly she felt the member slide from her, as she was bourn aloft once more. Opening her eyes, she saw now the serried ranks of people around her, clad only in leaves and branches cut she presumed from the forest around. They closed on her as she was returned to the ground, bearing her up as ropes were removed and carrying her open legged to the stone upon which she had once lain open and naked.
Once more the hooded figure returned - 'you are now a woman if the forest, the earth and soil has itself taken you asunder. You must never tell if this thing, you must never reveal the power granted to you, the great gift that will attune you as one with nature, beauty and all the birds and beasts of this beautiful place. To show you the wrath that would fall upon you should you speak, your pleasure taken so far must be matched by pain that will serve as a warning to you.'
Hands pinned her now, raising her legs high above her head, the stone pressing hard into her as she was held immobile in place. Her head was raised, forcing her to look between her opened legs where she saw that the hooded figure now wielded a length of fresh cut sapling as long as two men's arms. Standing aside he raised it, lowering it slowly to touch her milken flesh before drawing swiftly back and down again to strike across her. Pain soared through her, she cried out and in her cry heard it answered by the trees and all nature around her. Protect us, they seemed to cry, protect us from this pain that falls on us when men cut and fell us. Again and again the whip fell, her body arching each time it struck. She lost count of the blows, her mind reeling from the twin senses of pleasure and pain, until finally she ascended to a higher place where the two blended together and her mind was fully at peace. At last the stokes stopped falling, and once more sweet hands bathed her bruised flesh with balm, this time cooling and soothing across her burning and tender parts. Gradually then, she realised that tongues had replaced hands, and that many were drinking freely from the spirit between her legs, deeply penetrating her newly opened flesh both men and women, and she revelled in the ecstacy of their touch, rising once more to the peak she had experienced when penetrated so deeply before. Around her, her moans of pleasure were replicated by others, and she saw man and man, woman and woman joined together in union, their couplings open and unashamed, partners changed and changed again in a continual orgy of pleasure. To her open legs, many came, drinking and touching her as if from a fount of pure spring. Her breasts were held, touched, licked and stroked. Her flesh kissed and loved, adored as never before. Time past in a blur of pleasure, until at last exhausted from the many takings of pleasure she slept, naked upon her stone, a nymph amongst the forest folk.
When she woke, she found herself once more deep in her own downy bed. Opening her eyes she saw the sunlight streaming across her room. She realised that beneath the crisp white sheets she was naked, and she could feel tenderness between her legs. What of the night, the pleasure and pain? Was it a dream? She ran her hands down her body, using them to sense the difference in herself, the strange feeling of taughtness across her skin, and deeper the new feeling of wetness between her legs, and openess there.
As she lay wondering, feeling her body and gently exploring the folds of her delicate flesh, her door swung open. Her adoring maid entered the room 'Ooh, good morning Miss, you are awake at last!' Across her arms, her maid carried her long sheer nightdress 'Oh, Miss, I found this outside your door, I have freshly pressed and folded it for you'. Turning with a smile, her maid said 'You oughtn't not wear your nightdress Miss, you never know what may befall you without it', as she lifted the bedclothes and slipped in beside her recumbent mistress .... |
