The Deflowering of Cindy Chapter-One

The Deflowering of Cindy
Sad Innocence

         Cynthia Carney was a mistake, born into a world of simple people living simple lives.  The industry of the community was farming, with mule and plow and sometimes without the mule.

         Living a lonely, unwanted and unloved, meager existence for her first five years.  Then one day when she had just turned six, an old woman stopped by the gate to her home.  She was bent with age, carrying a crooked cane, her face lined and weathered.  “So.  You are Cynthia!  Where are your mother and father?”

         “I don’t know.”  Cindy stood there covered in the mud she was playing in, puzzled at who this old woman was.

         “Child, you are a mess, come inside with your old God Mother and I will clean you up.”

         So Cindy toddled off into the house with Grecian her God Mother.  From that day on Grecian became Cindy’s best friend.  Every day, after mom and dad went off to the field Grecian would come and entertain Cindy, feed her from her own basket and give her naps. 

         When Cindy was nine Grecian stopped coming, Cindy felt sad and asked her parents where Grecian was.  Mr. And Mrs. Carney looked in surprise at one another.  “Who told you of Cousin Grecian?  How did you find out about her?”

         She explained to her parents about Grecian visiting every day for the past four years.  They sat and stared with wide-eyed disbelief.  “But Child, your God Parent is… no more” they did not explain any further, because they could not explain to themselves, that she had passed five years before. 

         Cindy missed her God Mother and could not understand why she did not come back.  Then seven months later on an extremely cold night, there was a terrible fire.  She awoke with the sound of the roof caving in.  Crawling out of her window into the mud and snow, she watched the flames engulf her home. 

         Strangers were there and put out the fire, neighbors she rarely saw and did not know.  Grecian appeared beside her,  “Don’t fear child, you will be taken care of.”

         One of the neighbors knew of a family member who lived in a village many miles away.  He and his wife took Cindy in and sent a letter, explaining the child’s plight and that he would be sending her to live with them with the next grain wagon going in that direction.

         The memory of that terrible night faded and she loved her new home.  The wife was kind and giving.  Cindy now had a simple dress to play in and nightshirt to sleep in, until the spring, when the wagon was ready to leave.  She was saddened to leave these two very nice people, but they were also poor and could not take care of her. 

         Two continuous days of traveling brought them in sight of their goal.  Her eyes lit up in excitement at first seeing the village.  All she had ever seen of the world were flat farm fields with an occasional mud or wood farmhouse.  Here, there were so many stone houses so close together and all these people, so many, and dressed so well in fine suits and dress. 

         Her Aunts home was average compared to the others around it, but it was grand in Cindy’s inexperienced eyes.  Because it was on the edge of the village, the back of the property extended to a shallow wood and beyond that is a stream that skirts one side of the village. 

         When she first arrived she was introduced to her cousins Rosa and Sara.  “So Cynthia, I understand you have a nickname, should we call you Cynthia or Cindy?”

         “Everyone calls me Cindy, so you may call me Cindy.” 

         “Cindy.  The rule of this house is obedience, do as you are told and you will be fine!”  This was the first time she ever heard this.  It would be something she was going to live by from now on.

         Her Aunt Teresa took charge, first stripped of her stained and tattered garments and discarded them.  Feeling a little awkward and shy, she stood barefoot on the stone floor without her clothes while her cousins made faces and gawked at her.  The maid and the cook were busy preparing her bath.  At home she would have bathed in the watering trough, here they had a barrel in the kitchen.

         After her bath the girls begrudgingly gave her the worst of their mismatched wardrobe, laughing and taunting her at how ridiculous she looked in them.  She saw them as mean bullies, selfish and rude; she decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

         An area in the root cellar was set aside for Cindy’s bed.  It was a large room located six steps down and under the shed that was separated from the house by a large patio.  Cindy thought of it as her own little house.

         During the first week, Alice the maid was kind enough to sew her a nightdress; it was much too large, dragging on the ground, it hung off her shoulders, but it was warmer than nothing. 
 
         Her aunt had the local cobbler fashion leather slippers for her and for this, Cindy was told to clean his shop floor, twice a day for a month.

         In that same month Auntie gave Alice notice.  She took Cindy aside and explained, “Now, I am not a rich woman and with another person to clothe and feed, you will need to do your share.” 

         So from then on she cleaned, fetched and dusted.  Her aunt instructed Elizabeth the cook to show her around the kitchen.  “Have her prepare a meal a week!”  Cooking was not a chore to Cynthia, she easily mimicked everything the cook did and in a years time was almost as proficient.  That was when auntie gave leave to Elizabeth.  “Why do we need a cook when you are doing so well?”

         So for three years, this was her life.  She washed, cleaned, and cooked, besides putting up with the verbal and physical abuses of her cousin’s hurtful pranks.  Pranks and nasty trickery were their only entertainment, Cindy their only plaything.  Her aunt was no bargain either, always stern and cold.  She barely ever smiled or spoke with her unless there was something for her to do.  Cindy did not complain, ‘I am better off here than being in the gutter,’ she thought.  She had seen the poor and retched street urchins, starving and worse.

         One night, when she was twelve and a half, she awoke in pain.  The terrible ache and stomach cramps were bad enough, then she discovered blood on her nightshirt and sheets.  Ashamed and thinking she had done something wrong, Cynthia approached her aunt and cousin’s.  Rosa saw the stain on her shirt and began to chastise her.  “Dirty girl, I see what you did!”  Sara, thinking this was funny, covered her mouth and giggled.

         Auntie announced loudly; “It’s the curse!” Which scared Cynthia even more, ‘I’m cursed, the witches will get me!’ she thought.  Her aunt handed her a wad of cotton material, “Push this up there and sleep with it between your legs!  You will be good in three or four days!”

         Cynthia’s eyes were as big as saucers, tears welling up, “But I’m… I’m Cursed?”

         Her aunt smiled and chuckled, “Silly Girl!  You’re not Cursed Child, take a cold bath and wrap yourself with rags, this will happen once a month from now on.“  She patted Cynthia’s belly.  “You are becoming woman today.”  That was the only explanation she ever received for her ministrations.

* * *

         For six years she never questioned or complained, her belly was full, she had shelter and clothes.  Then, close to her sixteenth birthday, while she was dragging a heavy sack of potatoes from the root cellar to the kitchen, she asked her cousin’s for help.  “You two Lazy good for nothings never do anything, help me, this is heavy!”

         “Lazy?  We are not Maids; you must work for your board.  We Live Here!”  The sisters laughed and slammed the kitchen door in her face.

         When she complained, her aunt just stared at Cindy and muttered. “You are my sister in laws, sisters offspring.  That makes you nothing to our family and hence the girls are right!”

* * *

         Cynthia had taught herself to sew and made her own cloths from the hand-me-downs. Much of the material was of mismatched patterns, resulting in strange looking clothing. Rosa was now eighteen and Sara seventeen, both had bulging bosoms and broad hips.  Cynthia often thought she could almost make two of her dresses from one of theirs.

         Her loneliness in this house of four caused her sadness.  She would sneak into the house and sit by their doors.  Unaware of what was going on, she would overhear the sisters moaning and screaming out while playing strange games in their room.  Auntie would have overnight guests and Cindy would lie in her bed at night and dream of a prince to take her away. 

         For two more years she struggled with her daily chores.  Her only joy was cooking and trying to sew the rags into decent togs.  She had also grown to be a beautiful young woman, taller and much slimmer than her cousins, but she wondered why her breasts were not as large.  By her self, she would cup them with her hands and knew they were not small, but nowhere near the size of her cousins or most of the other women in the village.   

         Just prior to her nineteenth birthday she had made the acquaintance of Jeremy, a young boy who helped his father deliver fuel to the villagers.  Going from door to door with their donkey cart, they sold Coal, Wood and Dry Turf to burn.  He was tall, slim, handsome and just twenty years old.  In the summer, on the rare occasion of her being free of her chores, the two of them would go walking through the town and up the riverbank.  Jeremy didn’t like her snooty cousins or living in the village, he dreamt of one day going away to a better life.  She really liked him and dreamt of riding off with him one day.

Cindy’s Awakening The Crucible of Awareness

         Aunt Teresa made the acquaintance of the Village Constable at a harvest fair.  For a year now, he dropped by, sometimes twice a week.  Constable, Sir Edward Hargrove was a very wealthy man and often brought gifts to Auntie, fresh meat and wine.  Auntie told Cynthia never to enter the house when the constable was visiting.  When he was there she did her kitchen chores on the patio. 

         One warm afternoon while peeling apples, Cynthia overheard strange noises emanating from Aunties bedroom.  She peered into the room through the uneven window glass.  Through the blurry image she saw the constable lying in Aunt Teresa’s bed, seemingly without his trousers?  She had never seen a man without his trousers. 

         Then she witnessed her aunt’s lilywhite bottom pass by the window as she crawled to the bed on her hands and knees.

         Cynthia’s curiosity was peaked; she had to know what they were doing.  Rosa and Sara were in their room; she moved stealthily into the house, down the corridor to Aunties door.  All she could hear was the squeaking of wood against wood and the rasp of heavy breathing.  While cleaning, she discovered a flaw in the door panel; a loose piece of wood that would let her peek through.  She pressed the center panel to one side and a crack opened. 

         Auntie was on her knees, bent over on the bed, wearing nothing.  Her wrists bound with drapery cord to the bedpost, she was facing down, the top of her head pointed at the door.  The constable was behind her, jamming his hips against her bum.  From Cynthia’s viewpoint, she could see no more, but having seen farm animals rutting, she knew what he was doing to her.  She watched as Aunties pendulous breasts swung to, fro and in circles.  She thought, ‘cow!’

         The vision of their linked bodies, the sweat soaked skin glistening and the repeated motion of his muscles flexing against her.  Stroke after stroke; she watched intently.  Absent-mindedly she was moving with them, her hips rocking in unison to their rhythm.  A strange sensation began to engulf her core; she felt herself become moist down there and she started to breath in unison to his every move.

         Then she heard him start to groan loudly.  His tempo slowed, he groaned more loudly with each stroke until he paused pressing himself hard into her, he gritted his teeth, panting and groaning at the same time.  Teresa was shaking and said “No, Don’t stop, Please don’t stop!”  She seemed to be pleading. 

         She watched him slap her bottom hard, loud smacks she had no problem hearing.  He backed up and slid off the bed, walking to Aunties head end.  That was when she saw his cockle.  She had seen animals but never a man.  Semi-erect, it was huge in her eyes, a hand in length, ensnared in a wet mat of hair are his glands, large and swaying as he walks. 

         She stood in the hallway, knees weak and shaking at her core.  It was her first sensations of anxiety, unrequited arousal and lust.

         Trembling she watched him tantalize her aunt, touching and gently slapping her breasts, squeezed them, pinched and pulled on her nipples.  Turning he picked something up from the bed, snapped it against aunties bum, it was a riding crop. With each switch, Cynthia could hear the report; she flinched and felt the sting on her own bum.  All this raised a need in her body she didn’t know how to satisfy. 

         Suddenly Cynthia felt a hand on her shoulder.  She eased the panel back in place and turned to see Rosa and Sara standing behind her.  They both were wagging fingers at her and pulled her into Rosa’s room.

* * *

         The sisters were soaked in sweat, their sheer nightshirts clinging to them.  Sara spoke first. “Mother would beat you with her walking stick if she knew you were spying on her!”  She was looking down her nose at Cynthia, even though she was almost a head shorter. 

         “Shut up stupid, Mother will do no such thing!  She will send her away.”  Rosa turned to look Cindy in her eyes, nose to nose.  “You will be in the street!”  Rosa’s eyes were ablaze with anger.  “She does not like to be spied upon.  I should tell her, then we can be rid of you!”

         Cynthia had seen the street urchins begging, selling themselves, filthy and sometimes dead in the gutter.  “Please Rosa, I am sorry, I will never do it again!”

         Cynthia watched as Rosa’s eyes burn into her.  “Little bitch!”  She muttered.  Sara whispered something into Rosa’s ear.  She muttered, “No!”  Rosa pulled Sara to a corner of the room and they whispered to one another.  Rosa kept whispering “No”

         Rosa moved back to Cynthia, “Remember, obedience, do as you are told!  Go out and continue your chores.  Tonight, after supper come to Sara’s room.”

         They all froze when Aunties door opened and closed.  They listened to the heavy footfalls of the constable leaving the house, then Auntie called out, “CINDY, Heat Water For A Bath!”  The woman bathed after every one of his visits. 

         That night, after the evening chores were completed, she dutifully appeared at Sara’s door.  She was wearing the nightshirt that Alice had made so many years before.  It’s threadbare now, almost transparent and only reaches to her knees.  She knocked softly.  Sara opened the door and let her in. Rosa was lying in Sara’s bed with the pillow sheet pulled up to her chin.

         “We have decided to let you stay; only on one condition!”  Sara was grinning and she could hardly contain herself.  “You will do Rosa’s bidding instead of me.”

         ‘Rosa’s bidding’ she thought.  “Excuse me?”  Cynthia was incensed.  “You two do nothing about this house, what do you do for her?”  Cynthia was astounded at the thought of more chores.

         Sara shouted, “Be Quiet!  Obedience!”

         Rosa spoke up in a sharp, demanding voice.  “She pleases me when ever I ask; because she is the younger sister!  Now, as the youngest of the household, you will do it.”

         Cynthia looked at Rosa and then Sara, “Please you?  I am already servant to both of you, what more…?”

         Sara rolled the thick cover back revealing her sisters nude body.  Cynthia stared at her white body against the white sheets, her pink pale nipples and that large tangle of pubic hair.  “You saw what it is like!  The constable satisfies Mother twice a week.”

         “I won’t, it’s unthinkable, I am not a man...” Cynthia started for the door.

         “Submit, willingly to me, or I tell Mother and you are out on your skinny bum.  Maybe you can peddle your cunny like a common whore.”  Rosa’s words tore into her, she hesitated and stopped.

         Sara took Cynthia by the arm and walked her back to the bed.  “It’s not bad lovey, I really do like it. It feel good.” 

         Rosa lay there and smiled up at her.  “Do as you’re told an we are fine!” She pulled on her nightshirt, “Remove that thing you’re wearing!”

         Sara lifted Cynthia’s nightshirt, she objected, but Sara continued and in an instant she stood naked.  Sara pushed her over closer to the bed and sat her down.  Cynthia didn’t know what to do or how to start. 

         “Watch and learn girl.  It’s easy!”  She watched as Sara kissed Rosa on the lips, she pinched Rosa’s pale nipples, rolling the flesh between her fingers, pinching and pulling on them.  “You do her other tit.”

         Timidly, she mimicked the movements.  The flesh was so soft and pliable to the touch, but as she manipulated the nipple it stiffened, became hard and pointed.  She kneaded the globe between her hands and could feel the gland within as she rubbed the nipple between her thumbs.  Then she watched Sara move her other hand up and down Rosas body; Cynthia could see Rosa blush and inhale deeply. 

         “Do it, do as she does!”  There is impatience in Rosa’s voice.

         Sara is running her fingers through the triangle of pubic hair.  Cynthia feels a small sharp twinge of pain as Rosa is twisting her nipples.  Exquisite rushes of pain and pleasure rocket through her body. ‘Oh my, Oh my’ she thinks ‘this is what Rosa feels?’

         Sara moved one of Cynthia’s hands and placed it against her sister’s wet slit; she guided her fingers into the folds of flesh, feeling for that pliable pill.  Rosa moans and raised her hips off the bed, pushing at Cynthia’s fingers.  She cannot fathom what her touch is doing to Rosa; she knows what it is doing to her.  “What do you feel when I do this?”

         Rosa reached down and pressed her fingers into Cynthia’s sweet spot.  Instantly she felt the rush of all the muscles between her legs cramp and then let go.  It drove all the air out of her lungs in a violent, loud reminiscent moan.  Moisture is saturating the sheet, she looks down, is it my monthly time?  She feels Rosa push a finger into her, then two.  Her hips are writhing involuntarily against Rosa’s invasion, not to eject her but asking for more.  Cindy feels Rosa wagging the fingers inside, moving them about as she rubs that sensitive knob incessantly with her thumb.

         Cindy realized the moans emanating from her were the same as the mysterious sounds she used to hear coming from these same bedchambers those many nights.

         Cindy took the hint and sunk her fingers into Rosa; they drove their bodies into each other’s advances, grinding their hips at one another.  Sara couldn’t control herself and knelt beside the bed, curled up in a fetal position; in a s self gratifying orgasm. 

         Cindy and Rosa were now in full orgasm, saturated in sweat, they growled like animals, teeth clenched, pressing for every ounce of pleasure in the moment.

         In these few minutes of intense physical pleasure Cynthia has accepted her fate, willingly.  Her nasty rotten cousins had awakened something in her that was beyond her comprehension. 

         Exhausted, first Rosa fell back unable to continue and then Cindy followed.  They lay beside one another exhausted and glistening with sweat.  After a few minutes Cindy rolled over and looked deep into the shadowy crevasse, the wet tangle of hair between Rosa’s legs.  Sensing the musty aroma of Rosa’s passion, she pushed her legs apart and examined that slit and pink protrusion of fleshy nerve endings; putting her finger on it. Rosa stirred, closing her legs. “This is your first lesson.”

         Cynthia notices Sara standing behind her holding something.  Sitting up to see; Rosa pulled her back down on the bed.  “Tomorrow!  You will be a complete woman tomorrow!” Then sternly said.  “Sara, put it away for now!”

         In the looking glass beside the chest, Cindy saw Sara holding a narrow cloth bag cinched with a small piece of string.  She watched her place it in one of her bureau draws.  Then, looking around the room for her nightdress, it was nowhere to be seen.  Suspecting mischief she said. “Where is it?  I need my nightshirt!”

         Rosa sat up and gripped one of Cindy’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger, she pinched it hard; the twinge of pain was veiled by a strong contraction of her womb.  “Do you like having this done to you?”  She continued pinching with a steady pressure.

         Cindy could have broken her grip but found she was gaining more pleasure than pain from it.  She caught her breath and softly uttered. “Yes.’

         “What, I cannot hear you?” She added a little more pressure to her grip.

         Loudly now, “YES!”

         “If you like this then there is a chance for you!”  She rolled the tip between her fingers and went back to the solid pressure.  “If you wish to receive more of this pleasurable feeling you will need to learn to be more obedient!”

         Rosa sat up; her pendulous breast covered her midriff. “Sit up and raise your arms up high.  Cross your wrists over your head!”  She now had both of Cindy’s nipples clamped between her fingers, still applying a hard steady pressure.  Cindy raised her arms and did as she was told.

         “You will do exactly what we tell you from now on!  Say yes mum!” She stared into Cindy’s eyes.  “Keep your arms up.”  She began to knead her nipples, rolled them, pulled on them and then went back to that steady pressure.

         Cindy was totally aroused again.  “Yes Mum!”

         Abruptly releasing her grip “Put your arms down!”   

         Her womanhood and her nipples throbbed with every beat of her heart.  She gripped at her herself, started to masturbate. 

         “Stop that!  You will take pleasure when you are told to! Go back to your hole!” 

         “But, I’m naked!  My nightshirt?” 

         “Quiet!  You will do as you’re told and sleep as you are!  Go back to your hole!”

         Sara mimicked her sister, “Obedience!  Do as we tell you!”

         “Look outside your door in the morning, there will be clothing waiting for you!”

         So, nude, she slipped out of the room, across the patio and down into the dark cool cellar.  She found Grecian, sitting on her bed and smiling.  “Child, do as they instruct, be obedient, do not be willful or arrogant.”  She held out her hand; Cindy came before her and knelt down taking hold of the old woman’s bony hand.  “It is a time for you to learn the ways of passion and lust.  Do as you’re told, and do not disobey!”  Standing, she ushered Cindy to stand before her.  “Yes, You are your mothers child!”  Like magic, Grecian began to leave but Cindy did not see her go through the door.  She seemed to just fade into the darkness of the cellar.

         The memory of her experience being fresh in her mind; she could not sleep.  She finally gave in to her need and again aroused herself.  After many pleasurable endings she was able to close her eyes and fall off.

Her Training Continues
But first a Prank

         Awakening to aching muscles, muscles she had never used before, it took her a few minutes to rise from her bed.  Still nude, she looked over at the pile of clothes at the foot of her bed and remembered what Rosa had told her.  Cynthia crawled up the six stone steps of her pit and opened the door; a peasant blouse and simple pantaloons were draped over a sawhorse by her stoop.  She grabbed the garments and closed the door.  Slipping into the pantaloons, she found they fit tight in the crotch and low on her hips, she had to tie the waist cord hard against her hipbones to keep them from falling down.  There’s grittiness in the crotch against her skin, as if it is full of sand. 

         Then she slipped into the blouse; finding it much too large for her slim frame. The bow neck exposes too much cleavage.  When she bends over the blouse hangs open exposing her whole upper torso to the waist. She kept feeling an annoying itch and had to scratch herself a couple of times.  Looking down at her feet, she also needs new slippers; her original slippers wore out years ago. 

         Back in the coolest part of the cellar are seven of yesterdays left over eggs.  She gathered them in the hem of the blouse and started for the kitchen to make breakfast.

         At noon that day, Jeremy came by to deliver Turf.  Cynthia helped him move the hardened peat into the shed when she noticed him looking down at her bosom.  Amused at his reaction, she teased him by stooping over at every opportunity and finally smiled at him as he blushed a bright crimson.

“You are shameful.” His broad smile showed he was teasing her.
“I am a young Woman, in need of a hearty knight to whisk me off.”
“You are a young maiden and I a young squire.  Shall we start from there?”
She started to feel an itch between her legs, something unnatural.
“Even a young maiden must dream!  May a prince come by and take me to his castle.” 
Jeremy bowed deeply with his hand outstretched.  “Yes ma’lady, at your service!”
The cart unloaded and she in dyer distress with this itch, she was doing a little dance.
“I must go, will I see you tomorrow?”
He watched her fidgeting, crossing her legs and stamping her always-bare feet as she backed away from him.
“Tomorrow?  No, I will return in four days, we can walk the river bank!”

         Cynthia needed to get out of the pantaloons as soon as she could.  Running across the patio, past her cousins who were taking the sun, she turned the corner of the shed and stopped under the tall oak behind it.  Ripping at the cord that was cutting into her hips, she loosed and dropped her pants.  In the bright sunlight she carefully examining the inside, she found tiny ants, thousands of them; they were all over her legs and crotch.  She heard her cousins giggling and looked up to see them peeking around the corner of the shed. 

         “Use oil, Oil yourself up and throw those pants away. “  Sara was mimicking Cynthia’s movements, stamping her feet, jumping up and down; laughing as she scratched her crotch.

         Teresa came up behind them and asked what was going on.  Sara answered, “Cindy sat on an ant hill and she is full of ants.”

         Realizing that Cindy was exposing herself, “Cynthia, put something on, you cannot walk about bare bottomed like a common woman.  Cover yourself!”  Her aunt turned back to the house.

         The oversized top fell to mid thigh, she marched back to the cellar, tossing the pantaloons at the hysterical sisters as she passed them.  Cynthia heard Rosa’s ominous commanding.  “Be in my room tonight!”

         Down in her cellar, Cynthia found an old flask of olive oil.  She took off the blouse, soaking it with oil and then emptied the bottle over her shoulders, back and front.  She used the blouse as a rag to distribute the elixir to every inch she could reach.  Discarding the blouse, she continued to rub herself with her hands, concentrating on her pubic hair and the soft folds of flesh surrounding her silken cavity.  Needless to say this was a very sensuous process. 

         The girls were right, it worked, but now she smelled like a bad salad.  ‘All I need is some vinegar’, she thought with a smile as she suppressed the urge to finalize what her fingers had begun. 

         Unwilling to contaminate her own clothing she decided to bath before dressing.  Quickly crossing the patio she snuck into the kitchen.  Auntie’s bathwater was still in the barrel from yesterday.  The cauldron in the fireplace always has boiling water; she added three buckets to the barrel, warming it up nicely.  The water felt just right, when her feet touch bottom she bends her knees but it is not deep enough to cover her completely.  She is only covered to her midriff.

         Having almost finished washing, she looked up and noticed a small vile of bath spirits; it was a gift from the constable to auntie.  Carefully lifting the crystal vile, she loosened and smelled the tiny glass stopper; the aroma intoxicated her.  ‘A drop will not be missed’, she thought.  She removed the glass stopper and the bottle spun out of her oily fingers. 

         In shock, her heart pounded, with wide eyes she watched it splash into the water before her, little bubbles appeared at the spot were it submerged.  She felt it and the crystal stopper touch her toes when they hit bottom.  The room filled with that delicious fragrance, the warm water was propagating it about the entire house. 

         Cynthia leaped out of the barrel, gathered her belongings and raced across the open patio to her root cellar.  ‘In trouble with the cousins and now I am sure to be out in the street by way of my stupidity’.  She quickly dressed and sat cowering, then bundled all her raggedy clothing into one large skirt and waited for the axe to fall.  ‘Where are you Godmother, I need you!’

* * *

         One hour, then two hours, but nothing happened; no one came looking for her.  Darkness was about to fall, suppertime, she must cook; she gathered the ingredients in a basket and walked up to the house. 

         Looking through the windows as she passed the great room, she saw the three of them sitting around that dining table.  Nervously, Cynthia starts to cook the vegetable stew.  As she passes the barrel she notices that it is empty, the drain plug is open and the drain channel to the street is still wet.  Most of the fragrance of the spirits has dissipated; the vile is not at the bottom of the barrel. She continues to prepare the stew.

         Not a word is said when Cynthia enters the room with the kettle of stew and begins to serve them.  As is her custom she stands by the kitchen door and waits as they eat. 

         Calmly but sternly “Now you are a THIEF?” Auntie says between bites. Her emphasis on thief put a chill down Cynthia’s spine.

         “No ma’am, it was an accident, I hit the shelf with my hand and it fell into the tub ma’am!”

         “Why was the stopper on the shelf beside the tub?”

         Cynthia thought back, she had dropped both into the tub, how DID the stopper get there?

         “I don’t know ma’am, please excuse my stupidity, I will never touch your things again!”

         Cynthia could see the smirks on the sisters faces and her their snorting snickers, so could their mother.  As she glared at her daughters she said, “I will forgive; this time.  But only because you are a relative, my sisters in law, sisters offspring.”  She covers her mouth with the napkin and belches loudly, “But there is no blood here, so take care child.”

         Auntie retired to her bedchamber.  Sara and Rosa stood simultaneously, like two puppets they moved toward the hallway to their rooms.  Cynthia started to clear the table when Sara repeated Rosa’s request, “Tonight, in Rosa’s room!  Come ready to please!”

         A half hour later she had returned to the cellar wondering what was in store for her tonight.  She thought, ‘what did she mean, - Come ready to please?’ She clutched the nightshirt that she couldn’t locate the night before and decided to go wearing nothing.  She felt the chill of the night air as she slinked up to Rosa’s room.  The door was off the catch and swung open freely; once inside, the door closed behind her, both of them were behind the door waiting for her.  “Stop!”  Cindy stood there not knowing what was about to happen.

         “Very Nice!  No matter what happens, do not speak or move!”  Cynthia felt one of them place a finger on the base of her neck and slowly move it down her spine.  She discovered both girls were also without clothing.  Just as that finger disappeared in Cindy’s crevasse, Rosa appeared before her and again seized her nipples in a vice like grip. The instant pain also brought arousal deep inside and between her legs. 

         Sara’s finger was now pressing hard against the subtle dark flesh of her bum.  Cindy attempted to touch Rosa but as she raised her hands Rosa shouted, “Stop!  Cross your wrists over your head and move your feet apart!” 

         Cindy immediately obliged the command without question; she had consigned herself to obey.  As she moved her body into this submissive stance, she felt that finger sink deeper into her rear end.  Rosa added, “Up on your toes!”

         Sara moved beside her and placed two fingers between her breasts.  Slowly and softly moved them down her body, across her flat stomach, tracing her ribs and circled her navel.  She flattened her hand and placed her palm against Cindy’s belly, slowly caressing her down to her pubic mound.  Her fingers toyed with the thick scrub of fur. 

         She realized Sara had driven her other finger all the way into her and was attempting to insert a second, while moving it about inside.  Rosa alternated between gripping and twisting Cindy’s nipples.  Sara introduced a second digit into her rear.  Rosa could see that Cindy was aroused as she was rolling her hips to Sara’s intrusion both front and rear; she also watched her knees buckling and twitching. 

         Now moist and fully aroused, Sara drove two fingers between Cindy’s saturated folds and found her nub of aroused nerve endings.  Cindy threw her head back and closed her eyes, her mouth open, she was breathing with a harsh rasping sound.  She almost screamed when she felt Sara drive two fingers inside of her, both front and rear. 

         Losing control, her knees finally buckled, hips involuntarily twitching and gyrating.  She began to lower her arms; “Keep them up there, stand up!” Rosa was kneading both the breasts and suckling both nipples.  Sara felt Cindy begin to dilate, creating a big hollow cavity inside her.  She was moving her fingers in circles in that cavity while moving her thumb over that firm pearl.  Cindy was at the precipice, when the sisters stopped what they were doing and stood back.  They watched Cindy’s knees collapse and she fell in a lump at their feet.  Tears were streaming down her face, as she softly mumbled, “Please, please, please don’t stop!”

         With a great deal of difficulty the sisters raised Cindy to the bed and laid her face down, fastening her ankles and wrists to the bedposts with drapery cord.  Sara returned her two fingers to Cindy’s dark cavity.  Rosa tucked her fingers into her cunny and began the arousal all over again.

         “We are going to make you into a real woman tonight.  Are you willing?”  Rosa is smiling and so is Sara, they both seem like they are in good spirits. 

         Cynthia thought, should I trust them again?  They’re both diligently doing what I want them to do to me.  If I will feel anything like I did last night, sure, let’s get started.’  Cynthia shakes her head.

         “You’re sure?  There’s no turning around after this.”

         With only a small touch of trepidation, she says, “Yes, I am ready!”  Sara stuffs a rag in Cindy’s mouth and ties the gag in place. 

         ‘I’m sure they are only trying to scare me...’ Went through her mind.

         “Raise your belly off the bed, get up on your knees!”  There’s enough slack in her bindings that allows her to get up on her knees with her face down against the mattress.  Sara tucks a rolled blanked and pillow under her for support. 

         Again she felt the anal penetration and her nub being massaged.  Having lost some of her sensitivity with all of the distractions, she was now gaining it all back.  She is screaming into the mattress, every stroke against her nub and every movement of Sara’s fingers are quickly driving her to the ultimate conclusion. 

         She feels something large and firm against her silken hole.  It is being rubbed into the soft folds of flesh as Rosa continues to antagonize her sweet pearl.  She can feel herself open wide, and it slips deeper, then deeper still.  It is pulled back and then back in and on each cycle it goes in further.  Pulling against her restraints, she pushes her hips back for deeper penetration.  In one stroke she felt pressure, an obstruction and the next a little pain that only enhanced her pleasure.

         With all of this she didn’t even realize Sara had straddled her and inserted four of her fingers, right up to her knuckles.  What ever Rosa was pushing into her was now very deep.  She was doing long slow, steady strokes; her fingers lightly grazing that point of pleasure, as Cindy’s muffled screams fill the room, her orgasm racked every muscle in her body.  She stretched and ripped at her bindings attempting to make it continue.  The binding that holds her gag comes loose and she pushes the rag out of her mouth.

         Rosa stopped moving the object, just held it there, deep inside.  “Do you wish more?”

         Out of breathe with her nerves screaming, she rasped, “Oh Yes Rosa, Please don’t stop!” 

         “You will call me Mistress and I will provide you with this pleasure only if you obey us!”

         Her body shaking, “Yes mistress!”

         Sara removed her fingers and got off of Cindy’s back, Rosa quickly pulled the item out of Cindy’s sopping cavity; Cindy cried out in disappointment at the hollow feeling it left.  She felt them loose her bindings, she was so weak she could not raise herself from her kneeling position; she just lay there on the blanket and pillow with her bottom raised in the air.  Sara roughly removed the bedding that supported her body, letting her settle face down and lay flat on her belly. 

         Cindy felt the sharp sting of Rosa slapping her bottom.  “Roll over on your back!  Spread your thighs wide!”

         Every muscle in her abdomen aches as she rolls over.  Her face and chest felt cold with sweat.  She laid down on her back on the sopping wet sheets and spreads her legs as instructed.  Rosa crawls up between her legs, on her knees.  She leans in and Cindy can feel a shock engulf her whole being, Rosa had stroked Cindy’s nub with her tongue.  The sensation made her clench instantly, with a muffled growl.  All her aching muscles pulsating, then she did it again.  White-hot pokers of pleasure raced through her being.  Sara did not stop working on her breasts as Rosa was now running her tongue up and down her wet silken carpet as if it were a salt lick. 

         Cindy could feel her pit dilate, when Rosa inserted the object again.  There was only a short dull ache as she felt it push past a sourness.  She twisted it inside of her, rocking it in different directions, her tongue still punishing Cindy’s pearl.  The first outward stroke, drew a muffled scream of pleasure, she sunk it back in and Cindy moaned.  The next stroke produced a deep animal growl, as did the next, which turned into a continuous moan in time with every stroke.  She was now sucking her nub into her mouth; her tongue never ceased moving on it.   

         Rosa released her pearl and sat up, her face slick with Cindy’s fluids.  She continues to rhythmically penetrate her, faster and faster.  Cindy silently begging for more when she slows the pace and eases it all the way in, holding it there.  She is shaking it slightly, tapping it. 

         Cindy is still climaxing but she wants that thing to move. “No, Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”  The very same words her Aunt used just ran though her mind.  Sara has stopped also and has leaned over; she presses her lips to Cindy’s.  Her lips are soft and unbelievably sensual.  Cindy returned the kiss. 

         Now she lies still, Rosa removes the object and holds it up.  About the length and girth of the constables phallus.  Rosa holds it in front of her face; it is a piece of stiff, waxed and knotted rope. 

         The sister’s lie down beside her, “You are lucky, men don’t know how to break it.” Sara spoke with regret in her voice.

         “Break what?” Cindy had not been told about her body and what to expect in life.

“Yes, they just stick it in and think it’s fun when you scream in pain,” Rosa sounded angry.  “Men don’t know how to do it right!”

         Rosa stood up and circled to the head of the bed, she jumped on straddling Cindy’s head with her hips.  Cindy looked up into the gaping maw of Rosa’s core.  “You remember how I just pleasured you just now?”  She began to lower her nub to Cindy’s lips.  “Now it’s my turn to be pleasured.” 

* * *

         The trio practiced their nocturnal debauchery every night that first week in August.  Between her every day chores and late night perversions Cindy was getting little or no sleep.  She found herself walking to the river most afternoons to bath and relieve the soreness between her legs.  Occasionally she would prepare a hot bath for herself as a treat.  She began to look forward to the evening hours spent in the house.  She was also becoming quite astute at satisfying the sisters and having them satisfy her.

         One afternoon, as Cynthia was climbing out of bath, constable Hargrove entered the kitchen.  She quickly lowered herself back in and grabbed her skirt to cover her bosom.  He had already gotten a good look, his interest was peaked and he was not about to let this situation pass. 

         Their eyes were locked on one another.  “Cindy?  Isn’t it?”  He is an attractive middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache.  He wore his uniform with all the buttons and meddles proudly, he strutted in his riding boots, brandishing a riding crop.  In her mind, all she saw was his dripping manhood, that afternoon a week before.  “No… No it’s Cyn…Cynthia!”

         He moved in circles around the room as he approached her, making her shift and turn to keep herself covered.  “You are lovely.”  At each turn he comes closer, she dragged her skirt in a circle and into her bath water.  “I will call you Cindy!”  Then he stood right beside her.  She watched his eyes drop to look into the barrel.  “Would you like to take a real bath in a real bath tub?”  He extended the end of his riding crop under her chin; two short tails of leather extended from the end and tickled her throat.  With a slight pressure he raises her face to meet his gaze. “So beautiful!”

         “No… I will bath here thank you!”  Her voice is high pitched and cracking with nervousness.  She feels strange, excited and aroused.

         “No need to fear my dear.  I have never harmed a woman!  Unless she wanted to be!” His accent is European. “If you ever change your mind, you may come to my home.” 

         He pressed the leather crop down against her hands with a quick tapping motion.  She lowered her guard and allowed the material to fall away, exposing her bosom.  A chill went though her body and goose bumps appeared all over her. 

         “Don’t slouch girl, chin up, shoulders back; be proud, you are a beautiful woman.”  Her eyes fixed on his; she lifted her head, dropping her hands to her sides and pushed her shoulders back.  Naked to her waist; her skirt was now soaking in her bath water, she felt the small leather tassels graze her nipples as he playfully whipped the end back and forth in front of her.  Lust and desire were welling up in her core; she already knew what he would feel like inside of her. 

         The lashing of his crop was just enough to hurt, and just enough to arouse.  Her nipples were aching and as hard as two stones.  He whipped past them one more time, close enough for her to feel a sharp sting as it made hard contact with both tips, she inhale sharply.  “Yes, very nice, obedient and responsive!  I like that!”

         She didn’t move as he turned and walked out the same way he came in. 

         Cynthia’s knees buckled, her body shaking; not with fear but desire.  She leaned back against the edge of the barrel.  Her mind raced, ‘he is twenty years older than me, why am I so attracted to him.  What was that with the whip, my nipples are still hard and sensitive.  Why did he leave me with such a need?’

         Before Cindy left the barrel, she pleasured herself and releases the tensions he provoked in her.

* * *

         The day passed into night, the cousins did not summon her tonight, auntie did.  She donned her nightshirt and nervously approached madams door.  She knocked, more like a tap on the door.  In a bold blustering volume she heard, “Come in child!”  A tint of anger in the air. 

         Cindy opened the door and stepped in.  “Close the door and sh-tand here in front of me!”  She slurred her words and is obviously drunk.  The room was dark except for one small candle on a small table beside the chair where auntie sat. 

         “It sh-eems you have taken the Constables fancy and he has sh-truck a deal with me, for you!”  She picked up her wine glass and gulped down half the contents.  “I would have fought to keep you, but he sh-urprised me and I will become a rish woman.” 

         Picking up the candle, she holds it close to her ward, raising and lowering it.  “What does he shee in you?  She leans forward almost falling off her chair. “Take that thing off, let me shee what he’s getting.”

         Cindy pulled the fragile garment off over her head and tossed it to the floor behind her.  Standing with her hands to her side’s bare feet flat on the stone floor.  “You have no meat on yur bone.  Child, yur sh-kinny.”  Standing up with candle in hand, the old woman staggered around Cindy, poking her, pinching and looking her over as if grading a farm animal. “Yur clean.”

         “You been rutted yet?”  Auntie sat back down.

         Not wanting to tell her what her daughters were doing, she answered, “Rutted?”

         “Been with a man!  ‘ave you shl-ept wit a man?”

         She honestly answered, “No ma’am!”

         She poured her glass full and continued to look at this slim body for three or four minutes.  She drank down two more glasses before sending Cindy back to her bed.  “He will be here to fet-sch you in the morn’n.  Now go back to yur hole wench.”

To be continued with...

The Deflowering of Cindy - Chapter Two  (XGC) From the frying pan to the flames of Hades, Cindy is welcomed to the Manor. #1787562 by Rogue Writer