Birch Tree Cottage

"That's good dear. The grease has done its job," the woman said as she began to move the cudgel back and forth, crudely fucking Becky with it. With her free hand, the woman reached down to her own genitals and began to masturbate to the same rhythm.

Becky felt, at the same time both numb and yet hyper-sensitised. She was now conscious enough to know that the wooden tool should have been hurting her more than it was, such was its girth and yet, it felt so damn good.

"I'm coming over all woozy again," said the woman as she stuffed her fingers inside herself to trigger her peak. As she lost control, her slick juices flowed out and over her hand and her coordination of the cudgel's movements became more ragged. It now felt to Becky as if the tool had a mind of its own, taking her, ploughing her, fucking her. The room span, everything span ... she was gone.

~~~ / ~~~

Becky shivered, a full body shiver, as she began to stir. How had the room become so cold she thought.

She opened her weary eyes a little then gasped and sat bolt upright on the wooden bench. She recognised this place and yet it seemed different somehow. The bench seemed less sturdy and the slimy, damp surface had wet the seat of her trousers. Becky took her phone from her jacket pocket. "Two-fifteen?" she asked aloud, struggling to account for the four lost hours. Her mind felt fuzzy and her mouth and throat were dry. She took out her water bottle and drank most of its contents straight down. It was then that Becky's gaze moved to the cottage across the green lane. Where was the smoke from that warming kitchen fire, she thought. She slowly rose to her feet and took a first step towards the cottage before wincing from a sharp pain between her legs. Standing quite still, Becky slackened her belt and slid her hand down the front of her trousers before gently pressing and feeling around her genitals which were both swollen and tender. It was only as she withdrew her hand that she realised that her pants were missing. Her fingers were damp, probably from the wet bench she thought. Raising her fingers to her nostrils, revealed an earthy, herbal scent nothing like her own natural essence. Her mind began to fill with images and recollections going off like fireworks. The naked woman, the urination, the glistening cudgel, the pleasure ...

Becky walked gingerly across the lane to where the garden gate had been. Now there was just a gap in the wall with the garden beyond so overgrown that the path to the front door was barely visible. A few window panes were intact but most were broken or missing and everything seemed so black ... burnt in fact. It was clearly evident that the house had been derelict for many a year.

Becky breathed deeply but the cold air failed to clear her mind of its hectic meanderings. Feeling both perplexed and drowsy, she struggled to gain some control. Time was getting on, she thought. The full circular route was no longer a priority. Becky checked the map for the short-cut which looked to be around three miles back to her car. She picked up her backpack from the bench, and walked slowly back down the lane towards the village green. There was still not a soul to be seen and, other than the occasional bird call, no sounds either.

With each lengthening stride, Becky felt more and more awake. She mentally parked, as best she could, the strange memories and feelings about the cottage and the woman. Her focus was now solely on getting back to something resembling 'normality' ... her car with its radio ... the drive back to the B&B ... people ... real people!

It was only when she reached the small visitors car park that Becky came across anyone else. She waved in acknowledgement as the elderly couple coaxed their excitable spaniel into their car before unlocking her own, placing her pack in the back and slumping heavily into the driver's seat. She let out a long sigh then sat for a while adjusting to the familiar environment before starting the engine and setting off to drive the few miles to her accommodation.

~~~ / ~~~

The B&B looked welcoming as Becky steered her car onto the driveway.

"Did you have a nice walk love," asked her host as Becky removed her boots in the hallway.

"Erm ... it was very quiet ... very relaxing thank you," replied Becky.

"You look a bit cold, love. Feel free to have a nice hot bath if you like - there's plenty of hot water."

Becky smiled at the thought, "That sounds lovely. Thank you - I just might."

"I know we left things open, but will you still be wanting the room tomorrow night?" the woman asked.

"Oh ... Err ... no thanks," replied Becky, "something's come up so I'll be heading off after breakfast."

"That's fine love. Enjoy your evening."

Becky headed up to her room, removed her jacket and lay down on the bed. She rested a while just focusing on keeping her thoughts in some semblance of order. The drowsiness had more or less lifted and apart from her somewhat tender vulva, she felt alright though the thought of that hot bath was now very appealing. Becky's host had given her one of the best rooms having its own en-suite with both bath and shower together with a range of toiletries and large, fluffy white towels. Becky ran a deep, hot bath adding a good dose of fragrant salts.

She soaked in the bath for ages until she was warmed through and relaxed, physically at least, her mind still trying to piece together the events of the day. Though not expecting to, Becky slept heavily that night. A calm sleep uninterrupted by dreams, good or bad.

After a far larger breakfast than she was used to, Becky settled-up with her host, put her bags in the boot of the car then headed for home. The traffic was light and she covered the seventy-odd miles in good time.

It was good to be home, she thought as she carried her things in before closing the door behind her. With her mind so preoccupied, she'd almost forgotten that Ian was now firmly in her rear view mirror. That felt good - a clean slate.

~~~ / ~~~

For a long time, Becky was unable to discuss the events of that day with anyone. How could she? None of it made sense while much of it could probably be attributed to a dream. And yet ... she thought, her missing knickers, the fragrant residue inside her, her swollen genitals ... how could all that be explained away?

She had no answers so just let time pass and got on with her work and her somewhat limited, social life. Limited that was, until she befriended and grew close to a colleague, Jenny, who joined the consultancy shortly after Becky. They had much in common including hiking and the great outdoors and, as such, the pair soon arranged to meet-up for a lengthy walk, one Saturday in April.

Becky rose early and, after the obligatory coffee, began to get her kit together. The weather was mild for the time of year so no bulky layers would be required, she thought. Showers were forecast for later in the day though so she dug out her lightweight Gortex jacket which she rolled tightly to place in the bottom of her backpack.

As she reached into the pack, she felt something inside. The parcel, a cube of around five inches, was neatly wrapped with brown paper and secured with string. There was no label.

Intrigued, Becky removed the wrapping to reveal a white cardboard box inside which was a beautiful, small wooden canister. She carefully removed the tight-fitting lid to examine the contents though the scent struck her before any visual recognition; a scent she hadn't yet forgotten. Becky gasped ... shocked ... almost spilling the contents which resembled a very coarse Chinese tea though far more mixed in terms of colour and texture.

She stood for a while gazing at the beautiful object and occasionally breathing in the spicy, herbal fragrance as the recollections of that day, the cottage, the woman, the sensations ... came flooding back to her.

Snapping back to the here and now and with her breathing somewhat heavier, she pondered what to do with the 'gift'. Her first instinct was to throw it in the bin but, what would that achieve she questioned. It wouldn't erase the memories or feelings of that day. And then she thought of Jenny of their blossoming friendship and the direction in which the relationship looked to be heading. Becky smiled in a way that reflected her inner thoughts in that moment. She walked to the kitchen, opened one of the wall units and placed the canister next to her tea and coffee supplies.

I'm sure Jenny would like to try it one day, she thought.

~~~~~~