(BRIEF AUTHOR'S NOTE) Hello good people of the TMF! “Plaything of the Peasant Women” is the continuation of a multi-part story I posted several years ago called “Temple of the Torture Goddess,” (which was a continuation of another multi-part story called “Night of the Blondes”). The link will take you to Part 17 of “Temple of the Torture Goddess”, and you’ll find links there to take you back to previous chapters…
BUT you don’t really need to know the previous stories in much detail to get the gist: the male narrator, having fled his home parish in “Night of the Blondes,” becomes a slave-apprentice in the “Temple of the Torture Goddess.” He escapes with the help of a companion, and is now on his own, trying to find his way back home.
All the stories I’ve posted on the TMF are from a library of tickling stories I’ve written over the years. I wrote a little intro in front of “Night of the Blondes” sort of putting it in context — I got self-conscious about “sharing” these stories, and figured they needed a little explanation.
But for thems that can’t be bothered, here’s the short version…
My stories take place in a fantasy world populated by beautiful, ticklish, and usually scantily clad women. In this fantasy world, pretty much everything revolves around tickling and sensuality. Sometimes, like in this story, there’s a male narrator. How did he get there? I don’t know. It’s a fantasy. Once upon a time I think I made up a goofy sci-fi explanation, like he’s “trapped” in a virtual reality machine, or in another dimension, or something. So, if you need a reason, you can have that one.
Once again, I’m not sure I need to go on like this, but I get self-conscious about it. Many writers I admire here, set their stories in pretty detailed “fantasy” worlds, and no one seems to need an explanation, but still…
So, “Plaything of the Peasant Women” picks up where “Temple of the Torture Goddess” left off. If you like it, I’d love to hear it.
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Plaything of the Peasant Women
PART 1
For two days after Raisa left me on the river bank, I hiked through thick woodland in the general direction of home. My suspicion that at some point Raisa and I had missed the branch of the river that would have taken me somewhere relatively close to my own parish proved correct, but I had a general idea of where I was, and I knew I’d eventually wind up in my own land — still far from my own parish, but at least in familiar territory.
The good fortune that had allowed me to escape the Temple of Zyriss was holding out. I met no hostile tribes of forest girls, no bands of outlaws, and if I was being hunted by the Temple, they were far behind me. The wilderness offered plenty of opportunity for shelter and nourishment, the weather was nice, so I really wanted for nothing except companionship.
But after several days on my own, I began to experience a different kind of hunger. My dreams were full of vivid images and sounds from my time as a slave-apprentice in the Temple, and when I woke, the feelings these dreams stirred up could make me shudder in both fear and pleasure.
Eventually, the forest thinned out and I found myself in farm country. Fields and meadows dotted with small copes of trees stretched all around me, and as I walked, I began to see small farmhouses in the distance across the fields. I was still a long way from my own parish, and there was still plenty to worry about — if a random group of peasant women happened to catch me, I’d be putty in their hands, as wound up as I was; I also had to worry about the Queen’s guards; and ultimately, when I did get back, I had no idea what sort of reception would be waiting for me. But I was in familiar territory, at least. I relaxed a bit, comfortable with the feeling of knowing, more or less, what might lie around the next corner.
Shortly after emerging from the forest, I found a narrow dirt road and followed that, though I generally stayed in the tall grasses on the side so I wouldn’t be spotted. The sun was just starting to go down, suffusing everything around me in a golden glow, and I was wondering where I could rest for the night when I heard laughter and voices coming from the tree covered ridge to my right. As quietly as possible I crept up the slope and, laying on my stomach, peered over the top.
Below me, where the trees came to an end, was a group of peasant women. They were having a picnic, or had just finished one, and they were lying on two big blankets that were spread out on the grass. The girls were laughing and talking; their voices drifted up to me where I was hiding. There were five of them, and wore variations of the the typical peasant girl garb - flowered dresses and flowing skirts, jeans, and one even wore overalls. Their clothes, and the way they wore them, managed to be both modest and revealing at the same time. A pretty brunette with her hair in a pony tail seemed poured into her overalls, while a short, plump girl with sandy blonde hair looked as though she was really making her dress work overtime to contain her full curves. Another, taller blonde showed a healthy amount of thigh and leg; her dress began well above her knees.
I couldn't hear what the girls were saying from my position on the ridge, but occasionally their enticing laughter would reach my ears. I began to imagine grabbing one of them for myself. A second brunette — wearing cut-off shorts, her hair in pigtails — caught my eye, but then so did the blonde with the thighs. I watched and waited. After a short while, the picnic seemed to break up. The second blonde and the girl in overalls headed off together towards the far side of the field, away from me. The other three walked off to my left.
The trio of girls were closer, so I decided to follow them. I kept a safe distance behind the three, hiding in the trees. The girls reached the dirt road I had been on earlier and started off together, their backs to me. The sun was lower now; it would be night soon. I began to consider the idea of grabbing all three of them. I couldn't do it here, of course. If I rushed all three right now they could easily escape or, worse yet, overpower me. But if I waited until they reached their final destination, I might be able to surprise them one-by-one and have my fun with all three of them.
In a short while they came to a fork in the road. After exchanging goodbyes, the brunette in cut-offs and pigtails and the short, curvy blonde headed down the road together towards a farmhouse in the distance. The third woman went down the other path, which cut across a cornfield. I debated for a moment, then started following the single girl. The other two looked good, but I reminded myelf not to get greedy or take too many chances - the brunette looked like she might be fast. More importantly, there was less of a chance of things getting out of control with just the one girl.
And besides, once I got a closer look at her, I began to get more excited at the prospect of getting her alone. She was a beauty — tall, with broad shoulders and slightly tanned skin. Her thick auburn hair was a little curly and wavy. She wore a long, brown skirt and a scooped neck peasant blouse. Her outfit was loose fitting, not as revealing as her friends, but even so the curve of her hips as she walked was evident, and I could detect heavy breasts juddering under her shirt with each step. I followed as closely as I dared, enjoying the sway of her shapely hips and wondering what her thighs were like. She looked like she could be strong, but I had surprise on my side and felt sure I could handle her.
The sun was almost down when we came to the crest of a gentle hill. The road dipped down into a little hollow where I could see a small, ramshackle barn and a modest white farmhouse. Beyond the buildings a field of cornstalks stretched into the darkness. The woman strolled down the path and entered the barn. I waited a few moments, studying the house. The peasants usually banded together in loose groups of a dozen or so for protection and support — I had my own gang in the parish where I was from, though I didn’t know what my status was with them — and sometimes, this included a housemate or two. But there were no lights on in the windows or any other signs of occupation in the homestead in front of me, and I heard no cry of greeting from the barn. I left the tall grass and moved quickly to the entrance.
The door was slightly ajar, and the warm glow of a lantern came from inside. I peered in. The barn was small, and the floor covered with straw and grasses. I could see the peasant woman at the far wall, her back to me. She was standing under a sort of loft, supported by posts, which stretched the length of the wall. She seemed to be doing something with various buckets hanging from pegs on the wall, maybe preparing for the next day’s work.
I slipped through the door as silently as possible, moving stealthily across the space between us. I was only a few yards away when she suddenly turned around. Her eyes flew wide and she let out a shriek of alarm when she saw me, dropping the buckets she held.
She ran for the door, trying to dodge me. For her size she was very fast. I managed to catch her around the waist with my left arm as she tried to run around me, spinnng her around and knocking her off balance. She landed on her back in the straw. I was on her in an instant, straddling her hips and grabbing the neckline of her shirt. She screamed as I tore her shirt right down the middle. Her buttons flew off and scattered among the straw. I only had a glimpe of what lay underneath, the large bosoms jouncing in the much too tiny bra that held them, before she was pushing me, fighting to get me off her, screaming all the while. Using my body weight to hold her down, I grabbed her right arm at the elbow and, after a struggle, managed to work off one of her shirt sleeves. She screamed, suddenly getting her feet underneath her and, with a mighty thrust of her hips, bucking me off.
She shrugged out of her shirt and leapt to her feet, running for the door. I grabbed the hem of her skirt. Her forward movement let it slide right off her hips, catching her ankles and pitching her face down into the hay again. I yanked off the skirt and was on her, straddling her plump butt this time and holding her down. She screamed as I unfastened the clasp on the back of her bra. Using almost the same technique as I had done with her shirt, I managed to work the stap off her shoulder and free of one arm. I wound the bra straps around her right wrist, tying it tight. Then, reaching behind me, I grabbed her shirt, wound it up, and tied it around her left wrist.
She was still struggling and screaming, but I held her down. Despite our tussle, we weren't too far from where I first suprised her. I reached underneath her with my left arm and got a good hold around her waist. My right hand grabbed the end of the bra I had tied around her wrist. I got to my feet and heaved her up, jostling her so she couldn't regain her footing, and dragged her towards the posts. Using the bra strap, I bound her wrist to a post. Then, I took hold of her left wrist, binding it to another post with the remains of her shirt.
I didn't pause to look at her - not yet. Her skirt was lying a few feet away and, after quickly winding it up like I had done with the shirt, I tied her right ankle to the right post. Her left ankle remained free. I briefly considered using her underwear, the only clothing left on her body, but the white garment looked so brief and worn that I doubted it would have done the job. But my own shorts would do the trick nicely. I pulled them off. In a matter of seconds, I had my lovely, nearly-naked peasant woman secured by her wrists and ankles.
I stepped back a few feet to fully take her in, and as my eyes surveyed her body it became very obvious why she had chosen to wear clothes that fit somewhat looser and concealed more than the skimpy, tight clothes of her friends. Had she worn anything less revealing, she would have been a temptation impossible to resist. My earlier impressions of her shape and form proved woefully inadequate. She was indeed the big, strapping peasant woman I had imagined her to be, only more so, her thighs firm and pleasantly thick, strong legs tapering into well-formed calves and ankles. Broad, shapely hips curved into a perfectly proportioned waist, and her belly looked smooth and inviting. Her breasts were magnificent - full, heavy, and larger than I had imagined.
My captive pulled at her bonds, yanking herself back and forth in an attempt to loosen or break the bindings. Her struggles only helped to enhance her ample charms; her flesh rippled the length of her curvaceous body as she twitched and shook and pulled.
I was still winded from our tussle. “Sorry I scared you,” I said, breathing heavily. “I’m usually not this aggressive.”
“Sorry?!” she snapped. In truth she looked more angry than scared at this point as she tugged violently at the bonds. “You’ll be sorry when my friends show up! They’re coming here any minute!” It was only then she seemed to notice I was naked. Her hazel eyes widened in alarm for a brief moment before she turned her attention back to one of her wrists. "Who are you?" she said, grunting with effort to free herself.
"I've been following you," I said. "Ever since I saw you with your friends at the picnic.”
“Stalking me…?”
"I’ve just spent a long, lonely time in the wilderness, dreaming of getting my hands on a woman like you," I said. "Before that, I was a slave at a place far from here, where I was tortured and teased almost constantly. You can’t imagine what I went through.”
"Who are you, stalker?"
I told her my name and asked hers.
"I’m Jolie," she said. "Now let me go."
"I’m usually not like this, Jolie. Really, I just want to get home. But I’ve been on my own for a long time, and when I saw you I couldn’t help myself. You’re just sooo…” My eyes strayed to her large breasts. Although Jolie wasn't struggling as hard now, just tugging at the binds on her wrists while she looked at me, her chest still shivered from her earlier efforts.
She moaned, noticing where my eyes had gone. "Look, I’m sorry about whatever you’ve been through, but don’t take it out on me,” she said. "If you’re really ‘not like this’ then let me go. My friends really are coming back soon. They'll catch you. If you let me go you can just run off and continue on to… to wherever you’re going. I won't tell. We won’t follow you. I promise…"
When I moved towards her she pulled back in the restraints. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, her hazel eyes wide. Her body shook with her breathing.
"Just play with you for a bit,” I said.
"Please. Don't. I'm just a peasant woman. I don't have much, but if you let me go, I'll give you whatever you need. Just untie me…No!”
I couldn't resist any longer. My fingers flew to the soft flesh of her waist and began tickling furiously. Jolie screamed, throwing herself backwards as far as she could, tossing her head back and howling. My fingers traveled up and down her waist, gently kneading her skin and making her shriek with laughter. I pressed myself up against her.
"Please! Please!…" she screamed. I moved in to scratch and probe her smooth belly. Loud laughter poured out of her. My fingers traveled up her belly to her rib cage and began to tickle her even harder.
…"Aaahaa haaa haa!Aaahhhhhh! Noooo! Ahhh!…” Jolie tossed her body in the bonds with a force that would have made me worried that she actually could break out had I not been so engrossed in my tickling and the effects it was having on her. Her head was thrown back, her beautiful neck arched and flushed, her sensuous mouth parted wide with uncontrollable laughter.
Starting at her lower ribs, I began to move my fingers upwards, tickling her rib by rib.
"…Ahhh! No! No! Ahhh haa haa!…" I was half-crazed with lust for my helpless captive, and vowed to enjoy every inch of her soft flesh. Bypassing the obvious pleasures of her bouncing bosom, I quickly grazed my fingers up her sides to the smooth, tender skin of her underarms, fluttering my fingers from arm pit to elbow and the underside of her arms.
“…Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Staahp…!” Jolie's arms twitched and pulled desperately at the bindings, her hands clenching as she fought against the restraints.
I couldn't resist leaning forward to lick and nibble at her neck and earlobes, even as my fingers continued their ministrations to her upper arms. A long, loud shriek burst out of my strapping peasant plaything. She tried to tuck her chin into her shoulder and cover up the exposed areas as my lips and tongue darted from one side to the other.
"…Haa-haaa-haaa! Stop! STOP!…”
Then, I changed tactics. I stopped my mad assault on her under arms and placed my hands on her ribcage, letting her hysteria subside into sporadic giggles. After a few moments, I slid my hands around to her back and brought them up to the smooth space between her shoulder blades. Slowly, slowly I began to draw my fingers down the length of her back.
She gasped, her eyes flew wide. Her back arched and her chest pushed up against me. I continued my descent, my fingers spread wide to cover as much of her back as possible, my fingertips just grazing her skin. She shivered. "…Oh! Ohhh!…" I moved to her butt, brushing her full mounds with my fingertips. She caught her breath and gave a shuddering moan.
I crouched down in front of her, my hands traveling to her legs. Jolie moaned louder as I began to caress and rub her firm, rounded thighs. My fingers crept upwards on the insides of her thighs, then came around the front to trail down the back of her legs to her knees. I would lightly pinch and prod those sensitive areas before traveling back up again.
Jolie was giggling and gasping in a few moments. Her cries and short, bursting shrieks seemed to increase with every circuit of my hands. In a very short while I had the beauty laughing loudly. Her big legs kicked and jerked, trembling with the effort to close together as my fingers tickled their way up the insides of her thighs.
I tried to calm myself, take my time with her, but I was too wound up. I went at her with more vigor, pinching and rubbing and tickling my captive’s knees and thighs mercilessly. Every inch of Jolie's big, beautiful body shook and shivered as she howled, tossing her hair from side to side. It was an incredible sight, her beautiful belly and enormous breasts heaving in helpless, uncontrollable laughter. I ran my fingers down the backs of her thighs, making her jump in the bonds, then tickled the super-sensitive flesh of her upper, inner thighs. My hands paused their tickling to slide upwards and caress the flaring curve of her hips.
Jolie's body trembled and shivered, her belly heaving with deep breaths. I stroked her hips, enjoying their perfect proportions. My eyes were at about the level of her stomach.
"Look at you," I said, my hands still gliding from the tops of her thighs to the inward curve of her waist. "You're as full and luscious as a bowl of ripe fruit."
"Ohhhh," Jolie groaned. "Please, no more… my poor body… no more, please… Ohhh…"
My hands still sliding over her heartbreaking hips, I leaned forward to place my mouth on her trembling belly.
"Oh, no. No, don't. . ."
I was rewarded with a burst of screaming laughter as my slippery tounge snaked its way into her belly button. I swirled my tounge around the inside rim as delicately as I could, then dove deep to touch bottom. Jolie bucked against me, her body undulating wildly.
"…No! Nooo! Aahhaaaa! Haaa haaa haa! STOP! STOP! AAaaaa!…"
Her hips were in continuous motion, bucking and whirling as though in some rapid harem dance, trying frantically to escape or relieve the maddening sensation of my tounge swirling circles in her navel. My hands began exploring the curve of her waist, sliding up to the sides of her rib cage and moving down to trace the outlines of her hips. I stopped tounging her belly button, letting her hysteria subside a bit as I planted light kisses on her quivering belly, occasionally grazing her tender skin with my lips.
I kept my mouth within an inch or two of her belly button, dipping down to trace the edges of her underwear with my lips and nose. Jolie gasped and I felt a shudder pass through her. Her belly had almost no visible muscle tone, but it jumped invlountarily under my kisses, each contraction accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from Jolie. I began slowly working my way up her stomach, keeping my face pressed closely to her skin.
Jolie groaned. "Uunnhhh… ohh, please… pleeeze stop… ohh, don't… don't do that… you don't. . . oooo… mmmmm…you don't. . ."
My hands still rubbing the sides of waists and hips, I stood up and faced her. Sweat glistened on her body, her skin flushed and glowing. Jolie continued to moan and plead. She looked at me, her eyes beeseching and hot. Her lips and wide mouth appeared swollen.
"Let me go now. Please. You've had your fun with my body." She shivered, sending ripples of flesh dancing across her bosom. "Please…"
With the tips of my fingers, I gently traced the outer swell of her breasts. She gasped. Goosebumps immediately sprang up on her massive mounds, and her dark nipples, already firm, seemed to grow still more.
"No, please… not my. . . not there! I’m begging you! Oh, I'll do anything! I swear! Please don't!"
I lightly traced the outer swelling of her magnificent breasts once more, making Jolie emit a despairing groan and roll her head, her auburn hair falling across her face. Though I would have liked to take my time teasing her for a while, I was overwhelmed once more by her ripe abundance. I wriggled my hands up the under curves of her huge bosom, my fingers twitching and scrabbling at my captive's soft, warm flesh.
If what I had previously done to her body had lessened Jolie's susceptibility to what I was doing now, she showed no sign. She howled with as much vigor as when I had first worked over her lovely belly or round thighs or any other part of her succulent body. Peals full-throated, hysterical laughter poured out her. As my ardor grew, I clutched at larger and larger portions of her generous breasts, wriggling my fingers into that soft flesh, making her shriek and wail and thrash in her bonds like someone possessed.
"Ahhh-haa-haa-haa! Puuhhhleeese! Ahhh haa haa haa!"
I spread my hands out and grabbed as much of the beauty's breasts as I could, little hills of flesh bubbling up between my outstretched and still wriggling fingers. Screaming in laughter, Jolie threw herself back against the bonds, arching her body in a frenzied attempt to escape my ministrations. This only served to further accentuate her huge chest, and as my fingers prodded and squeezed that rich warm flesh, her attempts to escape me grew ever more desperate. She tossed herself back and forth, pulling at her left wrist then her right.
"Ohhh! Your hands! Your hands! Ahhhh, hahhh, hahhh! You're. . . ohhh, hoo, hoo. . . YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY! AAHHHHHAAAA. . ."
Gently, my thumbs brushed her firm nipples. Jolie's whole body jumped so violently that I feared the bonds might tear. She screamed like a banshee. Even though she was in aleady in hysterics her eyes flew open wide with horror.
"No! Nooo!" she screamed. "Please! Nooo! Not my nipples! Please! NOT THERE! PLEEEZZZZE!"
My fingers flew up and began fluttering at her nipples. Shrieking, she flung herself backward once more, her back arched and her head thrown back as far as she could, her whole body tense. The laughter gushed forth, high-pitched and bottomless, her breasts jouncing up and down rapidly with the force of it.
Jolie shook her head back-and-forth, her hair flying around furiously, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth wide. "No! No, please! Ahhh, no, no-hohoho! No! No, please! I can't. . . I can't. . . I can't take it! No! I'll. . . Yaaa-haa-haaa…!"
"Oh, but you're a big strong girl," I teased. "There's no telling how much of this you can take. . ."
"Ahh–haaa-haaa-haa! Nnnnaaaahhaaahaahaa! Pleeezzzeee! PLEEEZZEE! I'm begging you. . . Noo-hoo-hoo!"
I was just wondering what reaction this strapping beauty would have to a pair of wet lips and tongue on her sensitive nipples when a scream from behind made me jump.
"JOLIE! MY GAWD!"
I whirled around. It seemed that Jolie had been telling the truth about her friends coming over — standing in the doorway to the barn, wide-eyed and stunned, were the plump blonde and the brunette in cut-off shorts…
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Part 2 is right here.
BUT you don’t really need to know the previous stories in much detail to get the gist: the male narrator, having fled his home parish in “Night of the Blondes,” becomes a slave-apprentice in the “Temple of the Torture Goddess.” He escapes with the help of a companion, and is now on his own, trying to find his way back home.
All the stories I’ve posted on the TMF are from a library of tickling stories I’ve written over the years. I wrote a little intro in front of “Night of the Blondes” sort of putting it in context — I got self-conscious about “sharing” these stories, and figured they needed a little explanation.
But for thems that can’t be bothered, here’s the short version…
My stories take place in a fantasy world populated by beautiful, ticklish, and usually scantily clad women. In this fantasy world, pretty much everything revolves around tickling and sensuality. Sometimes, like in this story, there’s a male narrator. How did he get there? I don’t know. It’s a fantasy. Once upon a time I think I made up a goofy sci-fi explanation, like he’s “trapped” in a virtual reality machine, or in another dimension, or something. So, if you need a reason, you can have that one.
Once again, I’m not sure I need to go on like this, but I get self-conscious about it. Many writers I admire here, set their stories in pretty detailed “fantasy” worlds, and no one seems to need an explanation, but still…
So, “Plaything of the Peasant Women” picks up where “Temple of the Torture Goddess” left off. If you like it, I’d love to hear it.
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Plaything of the Peasant Women
PART 1
For two days after Raisa left me on the river bank, I hiked through thick woodland in the general direction of home. My suspicion that at some point Raisa and I had missed the branch of the river that would have taken me somewhere relatively close to my own parish proved correct, but I had a general idea of where I was, and I knew I’d eventually wind up in my own land — still far from my own parish, but at least in familiar territory.
The good fortune that had allowed me to escape the Temple of Zyriss was holding out. I met no hostile tribes of forest girls, no bands of outlaws, and if I was being hunted by the Temple, they were far behind me. The wilderness offered plenty of opportunity for shelter and nourishment, the weather was nice, so I really wanted for nothing except companionship.
But after several days on my own, I began to experience a different kind of hunger. My dreams were full of vivid images and sounds from my time as a slave-apprentice in the Temple, and when I woke, the feelings these dreams stirred up could make me shudder in both fear and pleasure.
Eventually, the forest thinned out and I found myself in farm country. Fields and meadows dotted with small copes of trees stretched all around me, and as I walked, I began to see small farmhouses in the distance across the fields. I was still a long way from my own parish, and there was still plenty to worry about — if a random group of peasant women happened to catch me, I’d be putty in their hands, as wound up as I was; I also had to worry about the Queen’s guards; and ultimately, when I did get back, I had no idea what sort of reception would be waiting for me. But I was in familiar territory, at least. I relaxed a bit, comfortable with the feeling of knowing, more or less, what might lie around the next corner.
Shortly after emerging from the forest, I found a narrow dirt road and followed that, though I generally stayed in the tall grasses on the side so I wouldn’t be spotted. The sun was just starting to go down, suffusing everything around me in a golden glow, and I was wondering where I could rest for the night when I heard laughter and voices coming from the tree covered ridge to my right. As quietly as possible I crept up the slope and, laying on my stomach, peered over the top.
Below me, where the trees came to an end, was a group of peasant women. They were having a picnic, or had just finished one, and they were lying on two big blankets that were spread out on the grass. The girls were laughing and talking; their voices drifted up to me where I was hiding. There were five of them, and wore variations of the the typical peasant girl garb - flowered dresses and flowing skirts, jeans, and one even wore overalls. Their clothes, and the way they wore them, managed to be both modest and revealing at the same time. A pretty brunette with her hair in a pony tail seemed poured into her overalls, while a short, plump girl with sandy blonde hair looked as though she was really making her dress work overtime to contain her full curves. Another, taller blonde showed a healthy amount of thigh and leg; her dress began well above her knees.
I couldn't hear what the girls were saying from my position on the ridge, but occasionally their enticing laughter would reach my ears. I began to imagine grabbing one of them for myself. A second brunette — wearing cut-off shorts, her hair in pigtails — caught my eye, but then so did the blonde with the thighs. I watched and waited. After a short while, the picnic seemed to break up. The second blonde and the girl in overalls headed off together towards the far side of the field, away from me. The other three walked off to my left.
The trio of girls were closer, so I decided to follow them. I kept a safe distance behind the three, hiding in the trees. The girls reached the dirt road I had been on earlier and started off together, their backs to me. The sun was lower now; it would be night soon. I began to consider the idea of grabbing all three of them. I couldn't do it here, of course. If I rushed all three right now they could easily escape or, worse yet, overpower me. But if I waited until they reached their final destination, I might be able to surprise them one-by-one and have my fun with all three of them.
In a short while they came to a fork in the road. After exchanging goodbyes, the brunette in cut-offs and pigtails and the short, curvy blonde headed down the road together towards a farmhouse in the distance. The third woman went down the other path, which cut across a cornfield. I debated for a moment, then started following the single girl. The other two looked good, but I reminded myelf not to get greedy or take too many chances - the brunette looked like she might be fast. More importantly, there was less of a chance of things getting out of control with just the one girl.
And besides, once I got a closer look at her, I began to get more excited at the prospect of getting her alone. She was a beauty — tall, with broad shoulders and slightly tanned skin. Her thick auburn hair was a little curly and wavy. She wore a long, brown skirt and a scooped neck peasant blouse. Her outfit was loose fitting, not as revealing as her friends, but even so the curve of her hips as she walked was evident, and I could detect heavy breasts juddering under her shirt with each step. I followed as closely as I dared, enjoying the sway of her shapely hips and wondering what her thighs were like. She looked like she could be strong, but I had surprise on my side and felt sure I could handle her.
The sun was almost down when we came to the crest of a gentle hill. The road dipped down into a little hollow where I could see a small, ramshackle barn and a modest white farmhouse. Beyond the buildings a field of cornstalks stretched into the darkness. The woman strolled down the path and entered the barn. I waited a few moments, studying the house. The peasants usually banded together in loose groups of a dozen or so for protection and support — I had my own gang in the parish where I was from, though I didn’t know what my status was with them — and sometimes, this included a housemate or two. But there were no lights on in the windows or any other signs of occupation in the homestead in front of me, and I heard no cry of greeting from the barn. I left the tall grass and moved quickly to the entrance.
The door was slightly ajar, and the warm glow of a lantern came from inside. I peered in. The barn was small, and the floor covered with straw and grasses. I could see the peasant woman at the far wall, her back to me. She was standing under a sort of loft, supported by posts, which stretched the length of the wall. She seemed to be doing something with various buckets hanging from pegs on the wall, maybe preparing for the next day’s work.
I slipped through the door as silently as possible, moving stealthily across the space between us. I was only a few yards away when she suddenly turned around. Her eyes flew wide and she let out a shriek of alarm when she saw me, dropping the buckets she held.
She ran for the door, trying to dodge me. For her size she was very fast. I managed to catch her around the waist with my left arm as she tried to run around me, spinnng her around and knocking her off balance. She landed on her back in the straw. I was on her in an instant, straddling her hips and grabbing the neckline of her shirt. She screamed as I tore her shirt right down the middle. Her buttons flew off and scattered among the straw. I only had a glimpe of what lay underneath, the large bosoms jouncing in the much too tiny bra that held them, before she was pushing me, fighting to get me off her, screaming all the while. Using my body weight to hold her down, I grabbed her right arm at the elbow and, after a struggle, managed to work off one of her shirt sleeves. She screamed, suddenly getting her feet underneath her and, with a mighty thrust of her hips, bucking me off.
She shrugged out of her shirt and leapt to her feet, running for the door. I grabbed the hem of her skirt. Her forward movement let it slide right off her hips, catching her ankles and pitching her face down into the hay again. I yanked off the skirt and was on her, straddling her plump butt this time and holding her down. She screamed as I unfastened the clasp on the back of her bra. Using almost the same technique as I had done with her shirt, I managed to work the stap off her shoulder and free of one arm. I wound the bra straps around her right wrist, tying it tight. Then, reaching behind me, I grabbed her shirt, wound it up, and tied it around her left wrist.
She was still struggling and screaming, but I held her down. Despite our tussle, we weren't too far from where I first suprised her. I reached underneath her with my left arm and got a good hold around her waist. My right hand grabbed the end of the bra I had tied around her wrist. I got to my feet and heaved her up, jostling her so she couldn't regain her footing, and dragged her towards the posts. Using the bra strap, I bound her wrist to a post. Then, I took hold of her left wrist, binding it to another post with the remains of her shirt.
I didn't pause to look at her - not yet. Her skirt was lying a few feet away and, after quickly winding it up like I had done with the shirt, I tied her right ankle to the right post. Her left ankle remained free. I briefly considered using her underwear, the only clothing left on her body, but the white garment looked so brief and worn that I doubted it would have done the job. But my own shorts would do the trick nicely. I pulled them off. In a matter of seconds, I had my lovely, nearly-naked peasant woman secured by her wrists and ankles.
I stepped back a few feet to fully take her in, and as my eyes surveyed her body it became very obvious why she had chosen to wear clothes that fit somewhat looser and concealed more than the skimpy, tight clothes of her friends. Had she worn anything less revealing, she would have been a temptation impossible to resist. My earlier impressions of her shape and form proved woefully inadequate. She was indeed the big, strapping peasant woman I had imagined her to be, only more so, her thighs firm and pleasantly thick, strong legs tapering into well-formed calves and ankles. Broad, shapely hips curved into a perfectly proportioned waist, and her belly looked smooth and inviting. Her breasts were magnificent - full, heavy, and larger than I had imagined.
My captive pulled at her bonds, yanking herself back and forth in an attempt to loosen or break the bindings. Her struggles only helped to enhance her ample charms; her flesh rippled the length of her curvaceous body as she twitched and shook and pulled.
I was still winded from our tussle. “Sorry I scared you,” I said, breathing heavily. “I’m usually not this aggressive.”
“Sorry?!” she snapped. In truth she looked more angry than scared at this point as she tugged violently at the bonds. “You’ll be sorry when my friends show up! They’re coming here any minute!” It was only then she seemed to notice I was naked. Her hazel eyes widened in alarm for a brief moment before she turned her attention back to one of her wrists. "Who are you?" she said, grunting with effort to free herself.
"I've been following you," I said. "Ever since I saw you with your friends at the picnic.”
“Stalking me…?”
"I’ve just spent a long, lonely time in the wilderness, dreaming of getting my hands on a woman like you," I said. "Before that, I was a slave at a place far from here, where I was tortured and teased almost constantly. You can’t imagine what I went through.”
"Who are you, stalker?"
I told her my name and asked hers.
"I’m Jolie," she said. "Now let me go."
"I’m usually not like this, Jolie. Really, I just want to get home. But I’ve been on my own for a long time, and when I saw you I couldn’t help myself. You’re just sooo…” My eyes strayed to her large breasts. Although Jolie wasn't struggling as hard now, just tugging at the binds on her wrists while she looked at me, her chest still shivered from her earlier efforts.
She moaned, noticing where my eyes had gone. "Look, I’m sorry about whatever you’ve been through, but don’t take it out on me,” she said. "If you’re really ‘not like this’ then let me go. My friends really are coming back soon. They'll catch you. If you let me go you can just run off and continue on to… to wherever you’re going. I won't tell. We won’t follow you. I promise…"
When I moved towards her she pulled back in the restraints. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, her hazel eyes wide. Her body shook with her breathing.
"Just play with you for a bit,” I said.
"Please. Don't. I'm just a peasant woman. I don't have much, but if you let me go, I'll give you whatever you need. Just untie me…No!”
I couldn't resist any longer. My fingers flew to the soft flesh of her waist and began tickling furiously. Jolie screamed, throwing herself backwards as far as she could, tossing her head back and howling. My fingers traveled up and down her waist, gently kneading her skin and making her shriek with laughter. I pressed myself up against her.
"Please! Please!…" she screamed. I moved in to scratch and probe her smooth belly. Loud laughter poured out of her. My fingers traveled up her belly to her rib cage and began to tickle her even harder.
…"Aaahaa haaa haa!Aaahhhhhh! Noooo! Ahhh!…” Jolie tossed her body in the bonds with a force that would have made me worried that she actually could break out had I not been so engrossed in my tickling and the effects it was having on her. Her head was thrown back, her beautiful neck arched and flushed, her sensuous mouth parted wide with uncontrollable laughter.
Starting at her lower ribs, I began to move my fingers upwards, tickling her rib by rib.
"…Ahhh! No! No! Ahhh haa haa!…" I was half-crazed with lust for my helpless captive, and vowed to enjoy every inch of her soft flesh. Bypassing the obvious pleasures of her bouncing bosom, I quickly grazed my fingers up her sides to the smooth, tender skin of her underarms, fluttering my fingers from arm pit to elbow and the underside of her arms.
“…Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Staahp…!” Jolie's arms twitched and pulled desperately at the bindings, her hands clenching as she fought against the restraints.
I couldn't resist leaning forward to lick and nibble at her neck and earlobes, even as my fingers continued their ministrations to her upper arms. A long, loud shriek burst out of my strapping peasant plaything. She tried to tuck her chin into her shoulder and cover up the exposed areas as my lips and tongue darted from one side to the other.
"…Haa-haaa-haaa! Stop! STOP!…”
Then, I changed tactics. I stopped my mad assault on her under arms and placed my hands on her ribcage, letting her hysteria subside into sporadic giggles. After a few moments, I slid my hands around to her back and brought them up to the smooth space between her shoulder blades. Slowly, slowly I began to draw my fingers down the length of her back.
She gasped, her eyes flew wide. Her back arched and her chest pushed up against me. I continued my descent, my fingers spread wide to cover as much of her back as possible, my fingertips just grazing her skin. She shivered. "…Oh! Ohhh!…" I moved to her butt, brushing her full mounds with my fingertips. She caught her breath and gave a shuddering moan.
I crouched down in front of her, my hands traveling to her legs. Jolie moaned louder as I began to caress and rub her firm, rounded thighs. My fingers crept upwards on the insides of her thighs, then came around the front to trail down the back of her legs to her knees. I would lightly pinch and prod those sensitive areas before traveling back up again.
Jolie was giggling and gasping in a few moments. Her cries and short, bursting shrieks seemed to increase with every circuit of my hands. In a very short while I had the beauty laughing loudly. Her big legs kicked and jerked, trembling with the effort to close together as my fingers tickled their way up the insides of her thighs.
I tried to calm myself, take my time with her, but I was too wound up. I went at her with more vigor, pinching and rubbing and tickling my captive’s knees and thighs mercilessly. Every inch of Jolie's big, beautiful body shook and shivered as she howled, tossing her hair from side to side. It was an incredible sight, her beautiful belly and enormous breasts heaving in helpless, uncontrollable laughter. I ran my fingers down the backs of her thighs, making her jump in the bonds, then tickled the super-sensitive flesh of her upper, inner thighs. My hands paused their tickling to slide upwards and caress the flaring curve of her hips.
Jolie's body trembled and shivered, her belly heaving with deep breaths. I stroked her hips, enjoying their perfect proportions. My eyes were at about the level of her stomach.
"Look at you," I said, my hands still gliding from the tops of her thighs to the inward curve of her waist. "You're as full and luscious as a bowl of ripe fruit."
"Ohhhh," Jolie groaned. "Please, no more… my poor body… no more, please… Ohhh…"
My hands still sliding over her heartbreaking hips, I leaned forward to place my mouth on her trembling belly.
"Oh, no. No, don't. . ."
I was rewarded with a burst of screaming laughter as my slippery tounge snaked its way into her belly button. I swirled my tounge around the inside rim as delicately as I could, then dove deep to touch bottom. Jolie bucked against me, her body undulating wildly.
"…No! Nooo! Aahhaaaa! Haaa haaa haa! STOP! STOP! AAaaaa!…"
Her hips were in continuous motion, bucking and whirling as though in some rapid harem dance, trying frantically to escape or relieve the maddening sensation of my tounge swirling circles in her navel. My hands began exploring the curve of her waist, sliding up to the sides of her rib cage and moving down to trace the outlines of her hips. I stopped tounging her belly button, letting her hysteria subside a bit as I planted light kisses on her quivering belly, occasionally grazing her tender skin with my lips.
I kept my mouth within an inch or two of her belly button, dipping down to trace the edges of her underwear with my lips and nose. Jolie gasped and I felt a shudder pass through her. Her belly had almost no visible muscle tone, but it jumped invlountarily under my kisses, each contraction accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from Jolie. I began slowly working my way up her stomach, keeping my face pressed closely to her skin.
Jolie groaned. "Uunnhhh… ohh, please… pleeeze stop… ohh, don't… don't do that… you don't. . . oooo… mmmmm…you don't. . ."
My hands still rubbing the sides of waists and hips, I stood up and faced her. Sweat glistened on her body, her skin flushed and glowing. Jolie continued to moan and plead. She looked at me, her eyes beeseching and hot. Her lips and wide mouth appeared swollen.
"Let me go now. Please. You've had your fun with my body." She shivered, sending ripples of flesh dancing across her bosom. "Please…"
With the tips of my fingers, I gently traced the outer swell of her breasts. She gasped. Goosebumps immediately sprang up on her massive mounds, and her dark nipples, already firm, seemed to grow still more.
"No, please… not my. . . not there! I’m begging you! Oh, I'll do anything! I swear! Please don't!"
I lightly traced the outer swelling of her magnificent breasts once more, making Jolie emit a despairing groan and roll her head, her auburn hair falling across her face. Though I would have liked to take my time teasing her for a while, I was overwhelmed once more by her ripe abundance. I wriggled my hands up the under curves of her huge bosom, my fingers twitching and scrabbling at my captive's soft, warm flesh.
If what I had previously done to her body had lessened Jolie's susceptibility to what I was doing now, she showed no sign. She howled with as much vigor as when I had first worked over her lovely belly or round thighs or any other part of her succulent body. Peals full-throated, hysterical laughter poured out her. As my ardor grew, I clutched at larger and larger portions of her generous breasts, wriggling my fingers into that soft flesh, making her shriek and wail and thrash in her bonds like someone possessed.
"Ahhh-haa-haa-haa! Puuhhhleeese! Ahhh haa haa haa!"
I spread my hands out and grabbed as much of the beauty's breasts as I could, little hills of flesh bubbling up between my outstretched and still wriggling fingers. Screaming in laughter, Jolie threw herself back against the bonds, arching her body in a frenzied attempt to escape my ministrations. This only served to further accentuate her huge chest, and as my fingers prodded and squeezed that rich warm flesh, her attempts to escape me grew ever more desperate. She tossed herself back and forth, pulling at her left wrist then her right.
"Ohhh! Your hands! Your hands! Ahhhh, hahhh, hahhh! You're. . . ohhh, hoo, hoo. . . YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY! AAHHHHHAAAA. . ."
Gently, my thumbs brushed her firm nipples. Jolie's whole body jumped so violently that I feared the bonds might tear. She screamed like a banshee. Even though she was in aleady in hysterics her eyes flew open wide with horror.
"No! Nooo!" she screamed. "Please! Nooo! Not my nipples! Please! NOT THERE! PLEEEZZZZE!"
My fingers flew up and began fluttering at her nipples. Shrieking, she flung herself backward once more, her back arched and her head thrown back as far as she could, her whole body tense. The laughter gushed forth, high-pitched and bottomless, her breasts jouncing up and down rapidly with the force of it.
Jolie shook her head back-and-forth, her hair flying around furiously, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth wide. "No! No, please! Ahhh, no, no-hohoho! No! No, please! I can't. . . I can't. . . I can't take it! No! I'll. . . Yaaa-haa-haaa…!"
"Oh, but you're a big strong girl," I teased. "There's no telling how much of this you can take. . ."
"Ahh–haaa-haaa-haa! Nnnnaaaahhaaahaahaa! Pleeezzzeee! PLEEEZZEE! I'm begging you. . . Noo-hoo-hoo!"
I was just wondering what reaction this strapping beauty would have to a pair of wet lips and tongue on her sensitive nipples when a scream from behind made me jump.
"JOLIE! MY GAWD!"
I whirled around. It seemed that Jolie had been telling the truth about her friends coming over — standing in the doorway to the barn, wide-eyed and stunned, were the plump blonde and the brunette in cut-off shorts…
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Part 2 is right here.
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