Village Tales Alexia Pt 03
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Village Tales: Alexia Pt. 01 free porn video
Village Tales Book 1 A Measure of Breeding
Alexia: Persuasions and Passions
Part 1
Introduction
His gleaming and swollen erection thrust eagerly into her responsive slot. Her legs wrapped tightly round his waist as his limber cock stretched her vagina to surfeit and extended into her until his fleece covered balls slapped noisily against her squirming bottom. Small gurgles of passion trickled from her lips as her legs stretched out wide and her pent up orgasm shuddered through her.
The lovers were oblivious to the rising tumult in the road outside their window. With one last massive heave, they met as one, their cries of fulfillment drowning all other distractions. Reluctantly the man rolled over, revealing the object of his lust, a tall lithe blonde woman who smiled at him lovingly. Her proud breasts jutted flirtatiously from her chest, nipples still stiff with tension and her hands yet fidgeting between her thighs as though her ardour was not yet assuaged. Her yawning hole, ringed with reddish fur and topped with her surprisingly large erection, was rosy and moist.
The blonde man smiled back at her, as he rolled to his back. His prodigious cock glistening with their conjoined spendings and still partly erect, lolled lazily between his legs until it folded over his splendid balls and trickled its remaining exudate. Slowly, the noise outside penetrated their reverie and the man moved quickly to window and lifted the curtain.
What he saw filled him with fear for himself, his wife and their daughters who slept down the hall. Sword wielding men were running pell mell down the street, some breaking open doors, some in close combat with villagers and still others engaged in various depravities with captured men and women. Already, dead and dying people littered the street. A man waddled out of a cottage with a young girl kicking and screaming under each arm. Once outside he dropped them to the ground side by side and sat on them.
The blonde man recognized them as the daughters of his neighbour, Ulfrit, and her younger sister. Grasping the neck of Ulfrit’s dress, he ripped it down to her navel, uncovering her quivering, still ripening, breasts to his unrestricted gaze and active fingers. Very soon, both girls lay naked in the mud where he rudely fondled their hitherto untapped charms.
A man riding by on a horse, swung down beside the captor and seized the younger girl around the waist. Lifting her high above his head he lowered her until she sat on his shoulders and his mouth was buried between her thighs. Then, with a deft adjustment turned her head downward and continued his assault on her virginal slit from this stance, her head resting on the saddle. Righting her and placing her on her feet he laughed aloud as he grasped the small mounds of her breasts and squeezed them cruelly, before pushing her aside to chase after the more voluptuous form of Bella who struggled under two lust driven youths.
Bella’s skirt was already hoisted high while one of the youths struggled to impale her wriggling sex. While this took place, the girl’s captor retrieved her and dragged the two naked girls back into the house from which he had carried them and where the blonde man had no uncertainty as to their momentary fate. The rider quickly remounted and rode up the street toward Bella where he swept her off the ground and sat her on the horse facing him, depriving her frustrated pursuers of their quarry. As he rode by the window again, Ingemar saw his prick bound in and out of her beleaguered slit, piercing her to his balls as he rode away.
Quickly, Ingemar dropped the curtain and ran to his wife.
‘Quickly Alexia, you must get dressed and hide. Raiders are rampaging and looting in the village.’
Alexia rose and pulling on her underthings, threw a light frock on.
‘Hide here in the wardrobe. Make sure you get well behind the clothes. They will probably not look too closely. I’m sure that clothes are not very high on their list of loot. I will get the girls and hide them in the false cupboard downstairs.’
‘Go quickly, Ingemar, they’re getting closer.’
They kissed quickly and Ingemar ran down the narrow loft stairs to the room where their daughters still slept while Alexia burrowed behind the clothes in the wardrobe and crouched down in the corner. Ingemar hurried into the girl’s room and found them, as was their wont, huddled together in the bed, bedclothes wrapped round their shoulders.
On another day Ingemar night have lingered over the sight of the three beautiful maidens whose nighties had so charmingly ridden up to reveal innocent young vulvas feathered like protective nests. Young Winifred’s arm encircled Alana’s more womanly body, her hand cupping a liberated breast that had escaped its confinement. He briefly wondered whether they indulged in more than just sleeping when they went to bed, but, this was no day for dalliance and daydreaming. He roused the three girls and after they had dressed, quickly hurried them to the living room where he opened the false cupboard, pushed them inside and then slammed it closed.
He was none too soon for at that moment he heard violent pounding at the door. Lifting his broadsword from its perch on the wall he waited for the raiders to break through.
1. An Arrival at Saint Michel
The austere grey stone building stood alone on foreboding moors, indifferent to the ebb and flow of life within and without it. Sparse trees bent and warped from relentless winds scarcely reached the bottom of the second floor windows. A twisted rutted road, muddied from the recent rains stopped abruptly at two massive oak gates blackened with age. Approaching this inhospitable place, an open cart rumbled along the fog bound road its creaks and groans swallowed by the wind. Two bedraggled female passengers wrapped in an oilskin sat in the cold drizzle behind a sad looking driver. He, huddled under an oilskin with another woman, whipped the horse onward in a desultory manner. The man and the women, hunched together for warmth, scarves wrapped around their heads to protect them from the rain.
At the gates, the driver crawled out of his seat and limped up to the doors and taking a large black pull-rope in his hands he pulled strongly. A dull clang from a distant bell was barely audible over the continuous whistling of the wind. The gates swung open slowly. Remounting, the driver whipped his horse into motion and the cart lurched slowly into the courtyard. It stopped in front of an imposing set of doors set into the front of the house like prison gates. On the top step a tall sister dressed in black and of indeterminate age waited in silence. The two women in the back scrambled out of the cart and stretched their stiff muscles before thanking the driver and ascending the stairs. Waiting until the others climbed the steps, the third woman reached up and kissed the driver lightly on the lips before following the other women. The driver swung into the wagon seat and left with no further communication and disappeared out of the gates that swung closed with a hollow thud. Up close, the house looked more like a prison than a religious retreat but perhaps the difference was immaterial.
‘Come with me.’ Intoned their welcomer as the women approached the top of the stairs. The reception area inside the building, though ill-lit and somewhat dank, was a pleasant relief from the unremitting drizzle on the outside. ‘You can take off your wet things and put them in the closet by the door,’ the authoritative voice said ‘then, follow me.’
She led the three women down a long dark corridor and stopped at a door some two thirds of the way along and rapped quietly. A muffled voice said ‘Come in.’ and they entered. The head of the order, who was surprisingly young, possibly in her late thirties, rose from behind her desk and approached each woman in turn and embraced them. ‘Welcome sisters. Please … sit.’ She stated, indicating so
me chairs. They sat, thankful to be off their feet.
‘You are I believe sisters in more than just the religious sense are you not?’
‘Yes Mother’ one of the women stammered, curtsying clumsily. She was a tall statuesque blonde woman in what appeared to be her early twenties.
Pointing to the shortest of the three girls, who possessed silky auburn hair, piercing blue eyes and perfectly formed facial features, she said.
‘This is Winifred, my youngest sister. And this is Evelyn.’ Indicating the taller woman with jet black hair and pale grey eyes. ‘My name is Alana.’
‘And your ages?’
‘I am twenty one, Evelyn is twenty and Winifred eighteen.’
‘And you want to join our order?’
‘We are orphans, our parents were either killed or captured in a raid on our village. We felt we needed a place where we could be safe. We have always gone to church and we are willing to serve God if he can keep us safe.’
‘Ah, a neat evasion of my question. But no matter. You say your parents were killed or captured. This must have been a grave shock for you all.’
The women looked uncomfortable and tears began to leak from Evelyn’s eyes.
‘Yes it was terrifying. We were hiding in the house, we thought they would find us and … you know, these men are so barbaric. We saw what they did to other people in our village. Horrible things’
‘It must have been terrible’ said the abbess placing her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. ‘Well, I suppose you must all be tired from your long journey and I will not overtax you with questions now. I’ll have Sister Serena take you to a room. For the time being you can stay together but we believe in individual privacy and will eventually arrange for separate rooms for you.’
She went to the door where Sister Serena was waiting and asked her to take them to their designated room. Without speaking she motioned the women to follow her and strode purposefully down the corridor. She led them up two flights of stairs to a fairly large room that, though sparsely furnished, contained a large bed and several wardrobes. She indicated without speaking that supper would be served in two hours and that she would be back to show them to the dining area. She left the room closing the door gently.
The three women examined the room carefully. They discovered a small bathroom consisting of a sink and toilet off the main room but little else. The room being an inside room, had no windows and the walls seemed solid. The women after relieving themselves finally sat on the bed and began to discuss their position.
‘Well, it doesn’t seem so bad so far,’ said Alana ‘At least the Abbess seems friendly enough.’
‘I can’t help thinking about mother and father.’ Sobbed Winifred.
The two older girls put their arms around her.
‘Yes, it was terrible. They were terrible men, evil men. But, Alana you haven’t told us what happened when those men broke in. You were the only one of us who could see. We could only hear them torturing mother and father.’ Said Evelyn.
‘You wouldn’t want to know’
‘Tell us please we need to know what happened to our parents.’
‘I don’t think you would. It was gruesome and obscene and …’ At this stage Alana’s voice broke with emotion.
‘But we must know, or we will forever carry this pain’ Winifred rejoined.
‘Well I’ll try to tell you but I warn you it is not nice.’
She sat on one of the beds with her sisters gathered around her and began her tale.
2. The Ravishment of Alexia (Alana’s Tale)
‘After we were locked in the secret cupboard, it was probably only fifteen minutes before the men broke the door in. Father was magnificent, three of them lay dead before they finally overpowered him. I thought they would kill him there and then but they didn’t have the decency to do that. They tied his hands behind him and asked him where his family was. At first he told them he didn’t have one, but a man brought in some of our clothes from the bedroom. When he refused to answer, they beat him savagely. But still he did not answer. Others went around the house looting and searching, fired by the sight of our nighties. They found mother’s hiding place quickly and dragged her downstairs. By the time they reached the living room her dress was torn and the men dragging her were obscenely pawing her. Some of them were fumbling with her clothes, trying to get them off, but the leader of the men curbed them and told two of them to bind father securely.’
He looked sternly at the men ‘How many times have I told you that with women it is better to establish your dominion over them slowly. If you terrorize them, your recreation with them is invariably dissatisfying. Isn’t it better to have a willing victim than an unresponsive lump of wood.’
He gazed immodestly at mother, licking his lips absently. Suddenly he returned from his meditations and seemed settled on a course of action.
Oscar regarded the beautiful woman in front of him. Her strawberry blonde hair reached below her shoulders and her simple clothing did nothing to conceal her well-developed breasts that jutted provocatively, tightly stretching the thin fabric of her dress that had been partially pulled from her shoulders. His eyes fixed on her slender white legs revealed graciously by his overstimulated underlings and traversed them from her well turned ankles to the veiled mound of her sex. Though her sex was concealed by modest knickers, the rippling bulge of an itinerant hand exploring this unseen realm of possibilities, attracted him and fanned his growing lust. The woman watched him fearfully through strikingly dark eyes and he was certain, when her face abruptly reddened, that she sensed his thoughts and the object of his contemplation. She exuded a sexuality belied by her modesty. He could almost smell the salty musk of her sex calling to him and stiffening his cock.
From her humiliating perspective Alexia regarded the leader of these coarse men. He was tall and broad, with a rugged unshaven face framed with curling dark blonde hair that was sprinkled with red. His unabashed scrutiny unnerved her. When his eyes dropped to her barely concealed private parts her heart began to hammer in her chest and her face turned a deep shade of crimson. Her nipples tightened spontaneously as she recognized the growing longing reflected in his blue eyes. She struggled vainly as one of her captors slid his hand inside her underpants and roughly pulled and pinched her pubis until he insinuated his thick work roughened finger into the narrow cleft.
Quickly discovering the hard nub of her passion he began rolling and teasing it mercilessly. Her struggles seemed merely to enhance the effectiveness of his technique and she realized that despite her mounting fear, her well educated vagina was reacting in its customary manner to this crude stimulation. Yet, she could not give these brutes the satisfaction of humiliating her this way.
While she struggled to preserve her composure, her dress was torn from her shoulders and large rough hands grasped her breasts from behind as though they were plucking ripe pumpkins from the vine. Her nipples were squeezed and twisted between finger and thumb until she cried out, while other hands smacked the tender mounds until they blushed hotly and the dark circled nipples stood out provocatively. Her self control almost completely collapsed under this terrible assault on both her modesty and courage.
Oscar watched the woman’s face closely as one of his stalwarts groped inside her underthings. He was amazed that her split peach had not already been plucked and its yielding core plundered by his lecherous followers eager to gorge cravings aggravated by many weeks away from wives and lovers. He could only conclude that given her beauty the men had been unable to settle on who would stretch her bearded furrow first.
While he watched, a particularly impatient bravo pulled her dress from he
r shoulders, ripping the bodice to expose lilywhite breasts. They showed the gentle curves of middle age, but were visibly perfect in size and proportion. Tipped with wide dark areolae, they hinted of her sensual nature. Their perfection inflamed her assailant and he crudely spanked her liberated breasts until they glowed a deep carmine, her beleaguered nipples pouting from their dark brown areolae. As tears leaked from her eyes and she bit her lip desperately, he ascertained that, in spite of her show of self control and the crudity of the men’s advances, she betrayed a powerful sensuality that she seemed fearful of displaying.
His mind suddenly made up, the leader of the barbarians spoke.
‘You need perhaps an illustration. I will show you an intriguing aspect of women. In a few minutes your wife,’ he said turning to father, ‘will spread her legs and welcome my stiff cock into her hot little haven. Even though she fears and dislikes me, she will buck and grind like any common whore and take pleasure in the game.’
He turned to the men who were holding mother. One of the hirelings had now lifted her skirt and placed his hand down the front of her knickers where he first ran it up and down before slowly impelling it backward and forward. Whatever he was doing I couldn’t tell, but it made mother whimper and cry. Another man pulled her dress from her shoulders and slapped and squeezed her uncovered breasts until the leader said.
‘Remove the rest of her clothes and lay her down here, close to her husband so that he will miss none of his wife’s exploits. I need a volunteer to hold her arms. I will take care of everything below her waist.’
Mother was forcibly disrobed and laid kicking and crying on the floor in front of Papa. Men jockeyed for the office of arm holder in anticipation of future reward. Father’s face was like thunder but, as he was bound and gagged securely and could neither move nor talk he was powerless to intervene. The men standing around stared lustfully at the nude figure of mother. She was so beautiful, her face wet but still proud. Her breasts, glowing red from their spanking stood out firmly from her heaving chest. She kept her thighs locked, preventing the monsters from getting a good view of her sex. The leader, undaunted proceeded to stroke mother’s breasts, stretching and pinching her nipples shamefully, until they looked like little dark brown wine corks. He wasn’t really rough with her, but I could see that mother was horrified by the liberties he was taking.
‘See her nipples stiffen. Anyone, prince or beggar can make her breasts respond, she has no control over them. But take notice of the little mouse between her legs as I kindle her fire.’
He leaned over her and took first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. He mouthed and nibbled, sucked and stretched her available nubs.
‘Observe the length of her stiffened nipples. Evidence of children perhaps, but where are they? This delectable morsel could hardly have worn all the nighties we discovered unless she is very slothful, which I doubt. Perhaps they’re married and left But she is still young, this mother. Well taken care of, her breasts still firm and supple. Are all the clothes in the extra room hers? One can only surmise. We can be certain that she does not open her legs for just anyone and has not spoiled her body with too many children. Perhaps she has hidden them somewhere in the village. If so we will find them. Perhaps if they are girls, virgins perhaps, they are ready to spit themselves on the stiff prick of a vigorous man. Think of having the whole family to dally with. That stirs the cock does it not.’
Alexia was mortified as the rough soldiers ripped her clothes off her. Their hands pawed her relentlessly as they relished their depraved task. Hands groped her liberated breasts and clutched at her exposed pubis until she was settled on the floor. One man held her arms behind her back whilst the leader walked over to her. She blushed wildly when he whispered in her ear, telling her what he was going to do to her. He pulled and teased her burning hot nipples, and she welcomed the respite he gave when he took each nipple in turn into his mouth and ran his rough, wet tongue over it, sending involuntary shivers through her.
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