Crone Ch. 02: Injured and Healed

Each time she was satisfied she emptied the mortar onto a bit of parchment. Then a tiny feather was added from a fluff she had ready, and a hair she'd pluck from her arm (ouch!)

Folding all in a paper to make a parcel, she'd tie it with a bit of cord, press it to her bosom and say some sweet words he didn't understand.

She saw him watching, tossed the parcel into a pile and reached for another leaf, grinned at his rapt attention.

"It's simple really. The combination of symbolism and my intent, leaves an impression of purpose that will be released at the appropriate time."

"I trust you know your business. It's all mystery to me."

She smiled wryly. "It would all be unnecessary, if my customers could master their own will and release their own purpose. So few can."

She seemed wistful, but he didn't press.

"That's all my work done for now."

He smiled, nodded, stood to leave.

"It's a cold night." She looked concerned, which warmed his heart.

"I have straw to keep me warm."

"But no fire, nor any cattle to warm the byre. It will be bitter."

He smiled. "Not so bitter as some nights. I admit it would be better if I could wear my shirt..."

She looked quizzical, but he couldn't help noticing her glance at his side where the poultice was applied. She seemed to know about it; perhaps the crone had mentioned it.

"I was wounded while collecting wood, and it got foul. The Mistress dressed it for me."

"Let me look...it may be improved enough to permit the shirt."

He obligingly approached her, raised his arm.

She stood, reaching barely to his shoulder. She tilted her head, looked him in the eyes, then turned her gaze to his wound.

Her hands touched around the bandage, probing gently. They were warm, and he felt a thrill at the contact.

She bent to look closer, her hair brushing his skin, her warm breath teasing the hair on his chest. She placed her warm palm directly over the hurt.

"I didn't know you were a healer as well..."

"As well as a witch?" She smiled mischievously.

"As well as a broker in charms and potions!" He protested.

"I am many things, all those and more."

She backed away, suddenly all business.

"You may wear the shirt." She said it as a lady granting a boon.

He bowed at the waist. "Thank you, milady."

He turned to go.

"I have not dismissed you!"

Startled, he paused with his hand on the latch.

"Is there more that I can do for milady?"

"I need you at your best, to serve us properly. You will spend tonight in the cottage, warm and comfortable, to aid the healing. Follow me."

He paused, hand on latch, but she was already heading into the back room. He hurried to follow.

In a dark corner there was a rope climb - a very steep set of steps with a rope running through rings, to act as a handhold. They'd had a similar arrangement on the cottage at the farm.

She scooted up, barely touching the rope. He followed at a more deliberate pace, placing hands and feet carefully in the partial darkness.

His head rising into the room above, he paused and looked around.

The room filled the peak of the cottage. Scanning the roof, he could see no sign of the damage he'd viewed from outside. It appeared whole and weather-tight. Hm.

The floor was wood plank with a scattering of simple rugs created from knotted rags of many colors. A home-craft solution that re-used discarded clothing in an artful and appealing way.

The walls had bucolic watercolor paintings on vellum. They were curiously devoid of living creatures - just landscapes. Was that a witch thing?

His hostess was nowhere to be seen!

"Over here, boy."

He spotted her on the bed, really a low wooden frame padded with a quilt and heaped with furs. She was under the skins, only her head visible now that he'd climbed further into the room.

The bed was a wise choice as there was absolutely no heat in this upper room, and it was as cold as the outdoors.

He approached the bed politely, stood with feet parted and hands behind his back, ready for his next instructions.

"You really do look like a Gruagach, standing there with your hairy body and pugnacious face!"

He was unoffended. It was how he'd looked since he came to manhood some few years ago. He was very comfortable with his appearance.

On the farm only his father and the pigs ever saw him. His father looked much the same, and the pigs voiced no opinion if they even had one.

"Those pants are soiled from the barn. Remove them." Again the commanding Lady.

He was hesitant - not only did he wear nothing underneath, but it was cold in here! Still, he shucked out of them, kicked them behind him.

His hips were fairly free of hair, but his crotch and legs were as furry as the rest of him.

She propped herself on one elbow, the skins shifting a little. Her shoulders were bare! her breast partially exposed to the night air!

He saw now, her shift draped across the foot of the bed, her boots ranked neatly on the floor.

She examined him from top to bottom, spending a little extra time on his hips, tilting her head to consider his features from different angles.

She imagined she could see the air shimmer as heat boiled off of his body. It pleased her.

"Hop in! You'll warm me tonight, as I warm you. It's the only solution that presents itself to me."

He could think of several other solutions including returning to his barn, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Rounding the bed he put one hand beneath the pile of furs to give himself some way in, sat on the the bed and slid his legs in. Scooting down, he was soon at a level with her but separate, covered but for his head.

The skins were soft and thick, though chilly. He could already feel some heat coming from her. His own body heat quickly made the covers warm where they touched his skin.

It was bliss!

With a wriggle she scooted around under the covers to his side of the bed, probed with her feet and found him. Twining legs together, she reached over his chest, pulled close and plastered herself to his side, skin to skin, face to shoulder.

"Isn't this more comfortable than that nasty old cow shed?"

He was hit with a wave of warmth! He'd not known how chilled he had been, until this nymph showed him.

They lay together, her head snuggled into his shoulder, her breath warming his neck, content for a time.

He felt himself relaxing as he muscles warmed. An ache in his back that had nagged him for days, simply uncurled and was gone!

Her skin against his felt electric. He could feel her breath, her heartbeat.

When she moved her arm to lay across his stomach, he jumped! It was almost too intimate, bundled up with a warm tangle of girl, her legs wrapped between his, her arm on his belly, her hand holding his hip.

She made a happy purring sound.

Emboldened, he moved his arm to take her hand, planning on guiding it to more intimate places.

She resisted, pushed his hand away.

"Hmmm. Let me do everything."

He was quite content to let her have her way. It had worked out quite nicely the last time!

Her hand began to massage his stomach, warm and sure. She seemed to enjoy running her fingers through his fur coat.

Instantly his cock began to twitch.

She moved from stomach to thick growth above his hip, twining fingers in the generous fur, massaging the muscles of his abdomen.

Cupping one hip, grabbing and squeezing the muscles there, she got a dreamy look.

Her legs slid between his, her feet massaging the muscles of his calves, feeling his thigh muscles with her own.

He spread his legs, to allow more access.

She took advantage by scooting down a little, and grabbing his cock in her free hand.

He gasped involuntarily, an electric shock running from his cock up his spine. His butt muscles clenched.

She felt this and smiled hugely.

Extracting her legs from his, she curled, dived under the skins, rolled and brought her torso over his stomach, completely hidden under the covers.

With both hands now freed she ran them over thighs, hips, and around to his buttocks as far as she could reach, squeezed. He flexed his butt in response.

He felt her laying on him, her chest against his abdomen, her tits carving electric trails across his skin. Her hands clutching him, enjoying the feel of him, clenching and releasing his flesh.

Pulling her knees underneath, she pushed up making a tent in the skins. He felt her hands on his hips, his thighs, then both hands sliding to his cock.

Holding him with two hands, for now he had grown to require two hands to entirely encompass his length, he felt a tickle on the head of his member.

Her breath!

Was she going to engulf him in her mouth? As she had in the pond?!

She paused, letting him get harder, feeling him pulse in her hands, just breathing on his prick. Feeling his desperation, his breath quickening.

She smiled, took pity, and put her lips to the head of his member. Just a puckery suck at the tip, not using her tongue at all.

He jumped! in her hands, and his clear slippery sex fluid began to flow from the tip.

Feeling that, she stuck out her tongue and slurped it up.

His hands moved to the back of her head by themselves, reflexively clutching at her hair.

"Hey! Hands off, boy!"

He pulled his hands back, then raised his arms above his head so he wouldn't be tempted again.

She resumed, this time licking his tip and slurping his wet emission like a suckling pig at a sow's teat.

"Probably shouldn't ever say that out loud" he thought wryly. But his farm background gave him little to compare.

She tired of just the tip, and began kissing him up and down his pulsing shaft. Light kisses like a whisper, just touching the skin with lips and a little tongue.

He approved. His pulse quickened.

Without warning she put her head over his cock, held his shaft and balls in both hands, locked her lips around the tip and began rapidly raising and lowering her mouth over his warm flesh.

The stroking was indescribably sexy. Her wet tongue caressed the top of his shaft while her lips stripped the skin up and down. Like he did with his hands but soft and wet and electric.

Pushing firmly she attempted to jam her face down onto him. She managed to get him entirely into her, the tip of his cock well into her throat, her nose buried in his bush.

She pulled back and his cock emerged, it's improbable length wet and glistening, the tip purple and swollen. She jammed down again.

It was like being swallowed then disgorged again and again.

He was only human. After four or five sloppy suck-in-and-pull-out mouth-and-throat strokes he erupted!

His hips plunged up by themselves, and his hands went to her head. He had the presence of mind not to grab her hair nor push her head down, but that was all.

His balls pumped one-two-three...six-seven times and kept going.

She hung on like a trooper, his dick deep in her throat, his spew coursing directly down her gullet.

She involuntarily attempted to swallow but with his sausage-like member blocking her throat, only managed to strain and gag a little.

Nine-ten spurts and he relaxed, his hips returning to the bed and his cock getting softer, the spew reduced to a trickle.

She pulled her head off of him carefully, swallowing hard a couple of times to keep it all down.

His cock plopped out of her face onto his stomach like a wet fish.

Under the covers she reversed herself, straddled him with her naked body and poked her head out the top of the covers.

She had a broad smile on her face and a little of his spew on her chin.

"I'm sorry I spent so quickly..." he apologized.

She grinned. "That was my intent! I knew you must have been saving that up. I wanted it out of our way."

"You missed a bit!"

He darted his tongue out and licked his jism off of her chin. She looked started, then leered wickedly.

Putting her hands on his shoulders and holding him down, she began to gyrate her torso and hips over his exposed hairy flesh.

She reveled in the feel of his fur coat against her perfect, hairless naked skin.

He smiled contentedly. Lying in a warm soft bed; a naked young woman massaging his body with her warm flesh; having just spent a greater amount of spew than he'd ever managed in his life.

How could anything be better than this?

He quickly found out. She slid down a little, rotated her hips and lowered her cunt over his still-firm cock, pinning it against his stomach between her wet woman's lips.

Working her whole body forward and backward, she massaged his slimy meat with her sloppy cunt while her nipples traced lines through his chest hair.

She was clearly sopping wet, her nether lips making squashing noised as they squelched up and down his length.

His cock, so recently sucked and spent, began immediately to respond. It firmed, regrew to nearly it's previous length.

Her excursions forward let his tip come nearly out from under her slippery grip, and when she'd slide back down it would jam in her folds before blipping out to be caressed by her wet sex.

Six or seven repetitions of this and she paused, his tip jammed in her folds, just holding him there with an impish look on her face.

Closing her eyes she began to move her shoulders side to side, to rotate her tits on his chest hair, letting the wiry bristles tease her nipples. A little "Oh!" escaped her lips.

She continued that for a bit, her nipples hardening and lengthening, turning bright pink from the abrasion.

Then suddenly her eyes popped open and she sat up.

Scooting forward, emerging entirely from the covers she brought her hips over his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, finally coming to rest over his face.

On her knees, lowering herself carefully she bent her back and craned her head down to see better how they were aligned.

He thought she looked indescribably sexy. Looking up he could see her stomach, tits and face above him, her skin goose-bumped from the cold, her attention entirely on her private parts in rapt concentration.

In this way she positioned her sex directly over his mouth, gently settled on his face.

He understood immediately.

He began by inserting his tongue between her folds, probing for her wet hole. She squeaked.

Once he found it he snugged his face against her sex, sealing his lips against her opening.

He sucked. Her cunt was juicy, warm and pliant. It was easy to maintain the suction and get every drop from her. She was already flowing.

Once he'd had his fill and swallowed he returned to probing with his tongue, reaching as far as it would go into her private core, wriggling it around in what he hoped was a sexy way.

A surge of wet met his lips, confirming his hope. She groaned, put his hands beside his head on the bed and leaned on them, her head hanging down, her hair forming a curtain around his lewd actions, surrendering to his insolent attack on her personal parts.

Sucking again, he got more than a mouthful and had to let some spill down his cheeks before swallowing.

Widening his mouth, he tried to cover her sensitive nub with his upper lip. Her hips rotated involuntarily to press it firmly against him, and her back arched.

He alternating sucking her juice from her innermost places, with probing her hole with his tongue. She would generate more juice, so he would suck again.

Her hips began to squirm. Her hands grabbed his head, her fingers tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp. Her groans became heavy breathing, her back bending and straightening with each heaving breath.

She stiffened, began to wail, pressed down with her weight on his face, smothering him with her sex.

His tongue in her sex tunnel felt her walls quiver and squeeze in helpless shuddering.

The wail turned into a scream. Her cunt let loose with a flagon of sex juice, filling his mouth, wetting his nose and eyes, blurring his vision.

Her scream ended in gurgles. She raised off of him on her knees, her body rigid, muscles of her torso standing out in relief.

One hand went to her sex, her fingers plunging into herself and clutching like she was grabbing a lifeline, jamming and twisting.

The tension left her all at once. Like a marionette who lost its strings she dropped backward onto him.

Her arms fell to his sides, knees went up into the air, then her legs unfolded and splayed out on each side of his head.

She lay on him, her head on his thighs, her naked back on his hips, against his cock.

By raising a little and looking down his chest he could see her tortured sex spread in front of him. The hole was clearly visible within her dense bush, the red flesh quivering, everything wet and slimy.

Some of her fluids slipped wetly from her depths in burbles, ran down to her gaping opening and dripped through her kinky hair onto his chest.

Lying his head back down, he waited for her to regain her composure.

Her warm weight was desirable. Not too heavy but solid and real. He loved the way she lay thoughtlessly on his body, using him almost as a cushion. Exposed her female parts to him without concern or shame.

She felt right, and honest, and true.

Abruptly, as was her habit, she rolled off him and dived under the covers. Humping around, her head appeared next to his as she settled down and began arranging the bedclothes.

He helped by pulling skins up around her so she could stuff her arms and shoulders under and get warm.

"Cold as a witch's titty in here, it is!" she announced happily.

He pretended to be confused. "That's not my experience!"

He put one large paw over her breast to confirm. She swatted his hand away with a grin.

"Settle down! Now roll over and cuddle me; I have to warm up."

She rolled on her side to face away from him, and stuck her butt out.

He obliged by scooting closer and enveloping her from toes to shoulders with his furry body. One arm went over her middle and again cupped her breast.

She took that hand in hers and pulled it up to her chin, clutching it with both hands and snuggling into his warmth.

She sighed deeply. "I could get used to this!"

In a few moments her breathing had turned to a slow steady rhythm with a little snuffle here and there.

She released his hand but he kept it there, enjoying the contact, feeling her breathing.

He took a few moments longer to close his eyes. His thoughts were around the same subject - getting used to this.

This woman was the best thing that had ever come to him. Smart, skilled, affectionate, exciting almost beyond endurance. It made a fellow think about the future.

Well, his future was set for now. He owed his Mistress his labor for a time, a year at least.

She'd been more than kind to take him at face value and give him a chance. He wouldn't repay that by disappearing in the night like so many others.

Anyway, for now, these episodes were enough. And he hardly knew her except to have sex with her. Maybe she was a harpy, or became rude when disappointed. Maybe she would quickly tire of him.

All those things had solutions of course. Never disappoint her; never stop being helpful and interesting.

He drifted off thinking of ways to keep her interested.

...

He awoke abruptly. For a moment forgetting where he was, he thrashed at the skins.

Remembering, he smiled and reached for her. But her side of the bed was empty!

Sitting up he was aware somehow that the day was well along.

His Mistress! She would be coming home, and here he was in her bed, naked, covered in girls' slime!

Hopping out of bed he struggled in the dimness to find his pants and get into them.

Stealing to the stairs he listened.

He could hear his Mistress, clearly with a customer. Well, that much was normal.

Quietly he descended, cringing at every creak of the rope and wood.

Crossing the room he found the back door, eased it open, slipped out into the cold morning air.