Frock Farm
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Flora's WorldChapter 3 free porn video
I was done with the day, having signed out and headed to my Ford Ranger, when I found myself once more in the strange world that I had left earlier. This time, however, there was no blonde with charming, sensual ways and erotic traditions. Instead, I was deep inside the same forest, looking a stag in the face. He and I seemed to understand each other. I wasn't hungry, so he was in no danger of my hunting him, even if I had a weapon. It was a stare that told each that the other was no threat.
Just then, he fled past me, being chased by someone who clearly didn't know the first thing about wild game. I stood there with some amusement, when a surly youth in a fancy shirt and trousers ran past me. He was evidently annoyed that the stag had gotten away from him so far. He carried a spear and wore a knife at his side in a bronze sheath that looked bit too ornate for these surroundings. He was clean-shaven, perfumed, and long-haired. His golden locks reminded me of the woman, but his eyes resembled those of some of my more troublesome students. He wore no cap, but plenty of jewelry ... too much for a simple woodsman.
Everything about this young man screamed that he was a difficult and petulant fellow. He looked at me with a kind of disgust, as if he expected me to aid him and was disappointed at my inaction. It soon became apparent that he wasn't alone. There were other hunters with him, all of them much older and obviously more experienced at the chase. They tended to be sandy-haired and have bright blue eyes, with rougher and more practical clothing and weapons.
"You, what are you doing here? Poacher!" the young man shouted at me, having decided that I was up to no good.
"Do you see a weapon on me, young man? No, of course not! So, then being unarmed, how can I be a poacher? With what would I poach anything? What would I poach, other than maybe eggs, and I lack even the tools for that," I quipped, mocking his accusation.
"You must have hidden your weapons when you saw your baron, then!" the youth shrieked at me.
"Baron, what baron did I see? The Red Baron, perhaps?" I cleverly alluded to the famous German pilot, knowing that he never heard of him.
"I am Baron Lorne, the lord of these woods. All folk in this forest, save for those primitive Fair Tribe savages, pay tribute and do homage to me here. None may poach on my lands, though those fools do not listen to my laws. You, however, should be flogged for your defiance and ridicule of your betters. Guards, seize him!" the youth commanded his companions.
I quite naturally fled in the other direction, hoping to find the blonde and her tribe. What did he call them, the Fair Tribe? That fit them, for sure. I liked them even more now for their refusal to bow to this rash young nobleman. Being a much better woodsman than the baron, I quickly created some distance from this hunting party, of which I was now the prey.
It wasn't long until I was on a plain, indicating that the forest faced at least three different lands. In front of me was a large building, quite visible from far away, with two stories and much austere and simple beauty. It reminded me of medieval monasteries, of which it might well be one.
As I came closer, I noted that it looked abandoned and completely empty. This struck me as more than odd. Why would such a fine structure be left to decay? There was ever indication that it once hosted great men and witnessed great happenings, but now it was almost forgotten. I decided that this would be my home, for the moment at least. There was no sense in wasting such a fine house, which would make the nucleus of a great estate.
That thought assumed, of course, that I was stuck here. I hoped not, as it would mean losing my job as a principal, but if I was, I might as well get used to the place, whatever it was called. I investigated my "keep", as I now regarded it, and learned that it was indeed once the stronghold, of sorts, or at least the manor house of a presumably respectable lord. It had all of the markings of nobility.
I could read the books, though they were not in English. I now realized that I could speak and understand another language, even if it bore some parallels to my native tongue. I had wondered why these people spoke English; now I knew that they didn't and I was very much a stranger in a foreign land. No wonder that they assumed that I was from this world, though they probably regarded my accent as alien and exotic, just as they seemed to have accents to me.
I reviewed all of what I had learned about this unknown world, and realized that I still knew very little. There was something medieval about this place, in that there were barons, lords, "primitive" tribesmen, manor houses, poachers, foresters, etc. The technology was clearly rather anachronistic, but I didn't mind, as I didn't have medications that required me to live in the modern world. My cousin Jerry would have been less able to cope here, due to his diabetes.
As I took stock of my new habitat, I heard voices and footsteps approaching, apparently from someone who wasn't aware of my presence. I decided to be quiet and eavesdrop on them, in order to learn more of this enigmatic land. The voices became louder and quickly took on more urgent tones.
"So, do you think that the Baron will join us when we march against them? I need all of the lords of the East Realm with me in this war. The lands need to be cleared of savages, as they only draw more serfs and slaves to them by the mere fact of their existence. They also poach our game, as the Baron must surely know. The Blue Forest is his woodland, and yet they do not recompense him for their poaching of his game. The other tribes do the same. They are no good and need to be brought to heel. It is high time that we crushed and tamed them," one man's soft voice nevertheless spoke cruelly.
"Be assured that my son will align with you against these disgusting barbarians. Did you know that they mate freely, as the beasts do, without any thought of marriage or modesty? They walk in the nude, completely shameless about their state of undress. They defile that stream with their random couplings. Who knows how many of our young men and women have been seduced by their lascivious heathen ways. You have my backing in this, and you will soon have that of my son. He is willful, but I can still control him, most of the time. The Air Queen is with us as well, I am sure," a rather snobbish and haughty woman answered him.
I recalled a reference to this "Air Queen" from the books, and she seemed like a rather cruel goddess, bent upon plaguing mortals with her wrath in the form of droughts and floods. Her priests and priestesses could teach lessons in bigotry and superstition to the Spanish Inquisition. Her twin sister, the Earth Queen, was no better, but at least her clergy didn't roast live victims to appease her and punish doubters by opening their throats. The Fire King and the Water Queen were my favorites, though. He ruled the study of metallurgy and the use of fire for warmth, while she ruled fishing, swimming, and mating in the stream.
For some reason, the man's voice actually reminded me of Sheriff Stone. Funny that how works, that assholes from one world bear an eery resemblance to those of other worlds. Of course, the Sheriff never waged a genocidal war, or even plotted one, but he didn't have the opportunity, either.
I lay there rather quietly when the pair ascended the stairs and entered the now darkened room. It was evening at last, and I was still there. I really needed to return to my world and retrieve my truck, but I also wanted to learn more about this sinister plot to kill and enslave the local tribesmen. These despicable butchers were just inches away from me, and I had to be very careful, in case they saw me. I hid behind a chest and underneath some old, musty cloaks that had been left in that spot. I had to be extremely still, in case they saw or heard movements.
"We have to watch out for interlopers, such as mercenaries, outlaws, anyone with a personal grudge against one of us, or a fondness for these barbarians. They could be trouble for us, you know," the woman added.
"Naturally, but who among them would have the steel it takes to really oppose us? Trust me, we are fine. Our plans are solid. They will not go awry. Be calm. Have some confidence in your son and the other barons of East Realm. For that matter, have faith in me, as Lord Constable of the Marsh. I must put this scum down, and so I will. The Duke trusts me with such concerns, and I shall not disappoint Trevor the Pale. As you know, he does not take well to failures. The last one who achieved less than he offered ended up on a sharp stake, inserted through a rather private orifice. I succeeded him as Lord Constable, of course," the man grimaced.
I couldn't see them well, due to the darkness. I could tell that they were of the nobility, but their plans had nothing "noble" about them. This "Lord Constable" fellow seemed rather cocky, whereas the woman was more sure of her hold over her son than of the ultimate success of this exploit. The latter seemed more likely to be right, but neither of them counted on me. I decided at this point that I would cause them trouble that would make them think that their Gods hated them.
Just then, of course, I was back in the high school parking lot. I drove home, a bit shaken by what I had seen, and poured myself a beer. It didn't take long to realized that this wasn't strong enough for the kind of day I had, so I took out my bottle of bourbon and downed two shots in a row. The burn was a useful distraction from the chilling conversation I had overheard. That was even truer of the buzz that I quickly got from the alcohol.
It was the worst possible moment to get dropped back into the other world, so naturally that was exactly what happened to me. This time, I found myself in a crypt, watching a naked man get whipped as he dangled from shackles attached to a low ceiling. The woman flogging him was scantily dressed, but she still wore some clothes, albeit a dress with an opening that bared her cleavage and her cunt. It resembled a bondage scene from a porn flick, only it was too real. The man was badly cut with each stroke of the lash, his back ripped open and bleeding.
"So, tell me, are you going to defy me again, or will you comply, young man?" the same woman as I heard earlier demanded of her victim.
As I looked closer, I realized that the man was the Baron, Lorne, who claimed dominion over the Blue Forest. Evidently, his relationship with his mother had dimensions that I had never considered. His own mother had enough arrogance to whip him. It also explained why he spoke of flogging me. He was used to scourging and clearly enjoyed doing to others what had been done to him. This was one sick and perverted fellow, in the truest sense of the word. His mother was no prize, either.
I could see that she was a tall and beautiful woman, but her cruelty, hauteur, and hypocrisy all prevented her appealing much to me, in the usual sense of the expression. If anything, I wanted to inflict pain on her, as no doubt did her son. He was helpless, I was not. Still, I did not intervene, not wishing to draw attention to myself. I wanted to find a way out of this place alive, so that I could warn the Fair Tribe and my golden lady of the Lord Constable and the Baron's mother plotting against them.
I was not so lucky. The Baroness, for lack of a better name, caught me just before her son could reply to her, and angrily lashed out at me with her whip, before gesturing for me to approach. I had other ideas, of course, so I backed away from her and looked for an exit, which only infuriated her further. She dropped her whip, picked up a knife, and lunged at me, which prompted me to strike her with my fist. I had never punched a woman before, it being against my upbringing, but this bitch had it coming. I would not insult ladies by calling her one.
When my fist connected her stomach, she lost her balance and doubled over in agony, giving me time to escape. That had been my plan, but I had a mad impulse to carry this a step beyond what was necessary. I seized the whip and cropped her a couple of times in the calves, which caused her to see red. She shrieked and attacked me again, this time slashing at my groin, but missing it, as her aim was thrown off by her continued pain.
I then grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the floor of the crypt, wanting to exercise my own kind of justice. I kicked her in the buttocks and stepped on her neck. This was as dominant as she had probably seen a man behave toward her, so I hoped that this would demonstrate that I was no serf or slave to fear or even respect her.
"Listen, madam, and focus on what I tell you. I do not know what is exactly going on between you and this lad of yours, but leave me out of it! If you wish to keep your stupid forest and your estates, keep your hands off me and mine. If you wish to stay alive, do not harm the Fair Tribe, or the other tribes, for that matter. You have been warned. Pardon the expression, given the context, but I will go medieval on your soft and pampered rump if you lay a hand or weapon on the tribes or myself. Oppress your own people, if you must, but back off of mine. Consider this your one and only chance to behave yourself and not incur my wrath! Believe me, your Duke is nothing compared to me when it comes to being a holy terror. I am a principal!" I imprudently declared.
I didn't learn until later that she or her son would take this statement as an indication of clairvoyance. Between my apparent psychic powers and my strange clothing, they now viewed me as some kind of magician, warlock, sorcerer, wizard, etc. They were in awe and trembled when I walked away from them. My abrupt disappearance didn't help them out, either.
Before I realized it, I was home again and wished that I wasn't. That experience of punishing the evil blue-blooded shrew was cathartic for me. I enjoyed sticking it to her, and part of me was aroused by the idea of a grudge fuck. The word "priceless" from that credit card commercial seemed to fit it best, when it came to the obvious horror that they displayed after I gave that bitch a small taste of her just desserts. I had known women like her all of my life and hated them all. They were my Aunt Hilda all over again. I felt that I had some payback to her and all such femme fatales when I stood up to this cunt.
It had been a very long day, of course, so I was more than ready to hit first the shower and then the sack. My dreams that night were of the mysterious blonde, mixed with some of my older and more developed students, and even some of rather sadistic sex scenes with that Baron's wicked mother. One involved the blonde showing up in my office to seduce me.
I felt every scene intensely, as if it were real rather than a dream, especially the blonde. It was as if we had linked our minds in this dream sequence, dreaming it together. I found myself taking her on the desk, with her legs raised above my shoulders, as I entered her repeatedly. I caressed her buttocks while I rammed her pussy with my hard cock. I heard her moan and pant as I came inside, promptly me to kneel and clean up my mess, so as to ensure that she reached her climax as well.
Grace
- 16.03.2020
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