Fairies III A day in the life England
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1778, England free porn video
1778, England...
A wagon rolled up to the wrought iron gates of an old manor. The cart
driver looked up from under the hood of his cloak, trying to make out the
shape of the manor in the distance, but the dark night and the constant
downpour clouded his vision. All he could see was an endless wall of
rain. Turning to his right the driver hailed to the guard who was walking
up to the wagon.
"Ahoy!" called the driver with a clear voice that would hopefully pierce
the sound of the raindrops.
"Evening. What business do you have here?" called the guard back as when
he had reached the driver. He was visibly unhappy with the fact that he
had to leave the relative comfort of his cabin to greet and investigate
the wagon.
"Only a shipment of some provisions for the master of these lands. Saving
you from asking, I've got the usual goods from the store and additionally
some new spices from Italy and tobacco from the New World."
Deeming that a reasonable response and anxiously wanting to get back to
his cabin, the guard didn't bother inspecting the wagon. He gave the
driver a curt nod and opened the heavy-set gates for the wagon.
"Easy" mumbled the cart driver as he was rolling up the hill to the
manor. He was directed to the back entrance by a pair of guards, where he
could unload the wagon. The entrance allowed the laden carriage to be
taken under the house and under cover from the rain. Now in the dry, the
driver inspected his surroundings - an old damp basement filled with
numerous barrels and crates, all full of some provision or other. The
ceiling was held up by a row of pillars that disappeared quickly into the
shadow on all sides.
The two guards who had escorted the cart down here set their lanterns
down and began to assist the driver to unload the wagon. Drawing aside
the linen covers however, the sight was a little too familiar to the
battle-hardened redcoats.
"Oi, this ain't no vat of meat..." one of them had started to say, but he
found words getting stuck in his throat as a short blade was now sticking
out from it. The other guard had no time to react before he also found
himself pierced by a sharp blade through the throat.
The cart driver had quickly leaped off the vehicle and circled around
behind the guards. With a swift motion he had produced two blades from
his sleeves and had stabbed both of the guards simultaneously in the
neck, extinguishing their candles of life.
He withdrew the blades and pushed the now lifeless bodies of the guards
into a heap on the floor. Hopefully no one had heard the commotion, but
the driver was certain that the heavy rain would've masked any noise.
The cart was in fact filled with a load of gunpowder, enough to blow the
mansion to pieces. However that stage of the plan would come into play
later. For now, the cart driver decided to remove a reasonably large pack
wrapped in linen from the back of the cart and lay it down on the nearby
barrels. As he proceeded to unwrap it, the expression on the man's face
changed from cold determination to that of excitement.
A number of items were revealed: a small mass with dark brown hair and a
sortiment of common clothes consisting of a simple long black dress,
accompanying petticoat, a long white apron, a white bonnet, a pair of
stockings and a pair of simple black shoes. The driver then began
undressing himself and as more clothes left his body, the more peculiar
the sight of him became.
Standing completely nude, the man, or presumably a man, had a completely
realistic body of female from the neck down. His, or her, stature was
lithe and agile, the skin was piercingly pale as would be common for a
young girl from around these parts. She had only a handful of freckles
here and there and no other markings on her smooth skin. Her breasts were
fairly average, nothing spectacular nor exceptional, but they did have a
sort of pure beauty to them. The breasts had been bound down when wearing
the male driver's clothes. The nipples stood erect, perhaps from the
cold, or the excitement, or perhaps those were not real nipples at all.
Her legs and hands were thin and graceful, but now, removing the old
clothes, they were moving with a slightly angular strength and speed. Her
body formed of all the curves that made a woman irresistible. The soft
smooth skin came to a sudden halt at the neck, where an incongruous head
of a man sat instead. That was about to change though.
He grabbed the rubbery mass from the package and revealed it to be a
full-head mask of a young woman, whose body he was no doubt wearing. He
stretched the neckhole of the mask and slipped the disguise on. As the
mask was filled with the man's face beneath it took shape and formed to a
face of a pretty pale female. Her eyes and nose were small and friendly,
both simple, yet pure in their shape. She had very thin eyebrows, but
thick lashes. The curve of her jaw was smooth and round and her
cheekbones were high but not sharp. The mouth of the girl was slightly
open as the man underneath was still adjusting the fit, but it had fairly
plump lips, ones that could easily be described as inviting.
Her hair was shoulder-length and dark brown falling down in slight curls
and featuring a fringe across the forehead. Peeking from between those
curls were two small and cute ears. Once the mask had been properly fit
and the man underneath was happy with the change, he gathered the hair
and tied it to a small ponytail in order to keep it out of the way. He,
rather she, brought her hands to her face and smoothed out any wrinkles
that the mask had leaving behind a smooth silky skin of a lovely girl.
Then, she took the garments from the linen pack and proceeded to outfit
herself. She pulled over herself a simple maid's dress and tied it with a
simple leathery belt. There were no undergarments, for they weren't
required for this simple ruse. She pulled up simple white stockings, but
didn't bother clipping them up. A white apron was tied around her and she
stepped into simple flat shoes for indoor use. All of it standard uniform
for this specific household.
Looking at her now, she looked just like any other maid in a manor in the
English countryside would. She didn't rate a second look from anyone,
making her appearance perfect for the next step of the mission. She went
over her appearance once more to make sure there were no obvious faults
in the disguise. She then assumed a different, more feminine stance and
adopted the more submissive demeanour of a simple maid. The girl also
quickly inspected her pockets to make sure a certain small vial was
present.
She rushed up the sturdy oak stairs that led to the living quarters on
the floor above. The maid knew that right about now, the master of the
house would be having his supper in the dining hall. The starters would
on the table right now. Or perhaps already the main dish. In any case,
the disguised maid hurried along the brightly lit opulent corridor, down
another corridor and through a plain door to reach the kitchen.
"Christ, Anne, where have you been?" the matron screeched at her
impatiently, while attempting to give orders to the other six maids
currently in the steamy and stuffy kitchen. Her hair was coming loose and
her face showed anger and stress. The other maids scuttering about didn't
pay any attention to the newcomer as they were far too busy preparing a
pot of tea, washing up the dishes and preparing the next course.
"Sorry, milady I-" she began to say, knowing exactly that the real Anne
was currently lying somewhere in a trench, dead. No loose ends.
"I don't care! Take this, and prepare to go on my command!" the matron
ordered, handing the faux-Anne a bowl of delicious cream tart. Anne took
it and waited obediently at the door to the dining hall, with the silver
bowl in her hands. At least that's what it seemed like to everyone else
present. In truth, she slipped a small vial full of poison into the bowl
destined for the master of the house.
When the time came, some two minutes later, the maids rushed out to the
dining hall and elegantly presented the dessert to the family. The room
was lit by a row of candles along the polished mahogany walls adorned
with rows of pictures of what presumably were the previous masters of the
house. It was Anne's job to place the silver bowl full of delicious tart
and deadly toxins in front of the master. She did so with immaculate
manners, as if the girl was indeed Anne the maid, while of course under
the skin there was a trained assassin. Having done their task, the maids
marched back to the kitchen for the next set of orders.
"Milady, may I please, I... it's my time of the month..." Anne stuttered to
the matron, playing well the part of an embarrassed servant.
"Oh fine, off you trot!"
"Thank you," mumbled Anne while hastily leaving the kitchen. Instead of
hurrying to the bathroom, she set her steps towards the back door of the
mansion. Grabbing a warm winter coat from a hanger next to the back door,
she wrapped herself in and proceeded to tiptoe her way away from the
house, still in the heavy rain. She followed a short path from the back
of the house to the line of trees where she knew her contacts were ready
to receive her.
"With luck, the poison will kill him," she seemingly assured herself,
still using her female voice.
"But I make my own luck," she declared, now with a distinct Irish accent
belonging to no other than the esteemed Templar Shay Cormac. At those
words, the basement floor of the manor felt the rattling shock of four
massive gunpowder barrels exploding. The first two floors shattered to
bits of stone and mortar. The rest of the house collapsed in a resounding
crash, that left behind only the rubble of the manor and the crushed
bodies of its inhabitants.
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