Before my fifteenth birthday, all I knew of a home was the damp undergrowth beneath the bridge near the forest, and I only lived to fill my empty belly. On my birthday, I was three days hungry and walked for hours before stumbling upon a basket of bread near a grand wall. I took the bread and ran, hearing the faint sounds of giggling. Upon reaching my bridge-home, I was attacked by two wolves. They growled, “Your bread or your life.” I heaved my meal and ran to the wall.
I hoped to find the basket replenished, but fate does not smile twice upon a peasant. I walked around the wall until I smelled the sweet taste of freshly baked bread. I knew that it wasn’t right for a peasant to trespass, but my stomach couldn’t resist. On the other side, I saw the most magnificent castle, and followed my nose to the richest food I had ever seen; it must have been the royal pantry. I ate as much as I could and ran.
The next week, during my now daily romps through the pantry, I heard a familiar giggle, and turned. Down the hallway, there stood a girl: blond, beautiful, petite, and about my age. She summoned feelings I never knew I could have. I stared for a lifetime, until an alarming scene unfolded. A taller, well-developed red-haired girl screamed at the blond beauty. The red girl then slapped her. I wanted to run, but couldn’t. After the beating was over, I started crying, and the younger girl turned. She spotted me, and I ran. She followed.
I beat her to the forest, but tripped on a root and twisted my ankle. The girl was dressed like a princess, in a long flowing dress, but still ran into mud to slap me.
“Were you stealing food from me, Princess Hazel?” I knew it! A princess! I couldn’t lie to royalty, so I confessed and begged her forgiveness. “Your honesty is refreshing, but you still need to be punished.”
I lay there, nursing my ankle, and she told me to turn over, onto my knees. I was in intense pain, but I knew what I had to do. I closed my eyes and heard a twig snap behind me. I felt the Princess swinging a branch towards my exposed behind. “Whack.” “Whack.” The branch was sharp, but it kept coming and coming and she kept moaning. I heard a growl. The wolf came back! I got up, but the princess stood defenseless. Without thinking, I took her hand and ran back to the castle.
Hazel led me through the back entrance and into her room. She looked at my ankle sympathetically but her green eyes flickered when she said, “You stole from me once, but if you wrong me once more, I guarantee you will regret it.” I told her that it would never happen again, and she smiled a most wondrous smile. She walked into her closet, and leaving the door half opened, she started untying her dress. After completely removing her dress, she turned and yelled, “How dare you dishonor my virginal skin with your peasant eyes?” She opened a drawer, and withdrew a variety of strange objects.
“Stand like a wolf!”
I obeyed. She walked over, her light underthing blowing in the air, and a wooden paddle in her right hand. Hazel stood, her legs spread, upper torso twisted back, pushing her hardened nipples through the light shirt. There was a pause . . . then snap! The hardened splintered board struck my backside. It stung, but it felt different than the branch. I saw her smile as she struck me. Caring one moment, hateful the next, I was confused by her emotions . . . and by mine, as well. The pain on my backside was now masked by the pleasure of knowing she was happy, and I only wished for more. When she stopped, I felt empty, and sunk my head in disappointment . . . but suddenly, *whack*. Something thinner had intensely struck my arse. The unexpected assault made me recoil; I had to summon all of my strength and become hard against the barrage of blows.
“I see you like my switch, peasant boy.”
The whacks came faster, and so did her moaning. She stopped suddenly once more, I turned around in surprise to see her wield a four foot scepter in her delicate arms. As she prepared to swing, I noticed sweat soaking through her shirt.
“I have a better idea. Don’t move,” she said as she sat on my back. She dropped the scepter, and started to beat me with a horsewhip. The whipping lasted long enough for me to lose feeling in my backside, but not my heart. After the final blow of the horsewhip, the gashes caused by the scepter became unbearably painful. She stopped suddenly and whimpered.
She ran her hands over the deep gashes on my backside, rested her chest on my back, and kissed the nape of my neck. Then, she turned me over. Now straddling my waist, I was finally able to have a proper look at Hazel’s body. Her flowing blond hair ran down her once again smiling face and her long neck, with a single lock of hair running in between her small but perfect breasts. Her waist looked thin enough to surround with my two hands (though large hands, they were).
Catching me staring, she giggled and exclaimed, “I guess you didn’t learn your lesson.”
As I opened my mouth to reply, she placed her index finger over my lips. She closed her green eyes and started to rock her pelvis. With her eyes still closed, she took my hand into hers, lifting it beneath her undershirt and onto her warm soft breast.
“I cannot bear to let you leave. You must be properly raised by me and become my consort,” she whispered.
Just then, Hazel’s bedroom door swung open. It was the redheaded girl now dressed in a translucent, white nightgown and with her eyes enflamed in red.
As a bonus, here are two excerpts from the second chapter:
"As I was hammered repeatedly with the sharp metal scepter, Hazel screamed in empathetic pain."
"Although I had to be held in the witch's mouth, behind the redhead's back and below her round behind, I could see the body of my beautiful Hazel, her breast completely exposed and her hand again sliding between her legs, now, of course, invisible to the devilslut's eyes."
Phallic Symbol Phridays 44
stand like a wolf
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