The Deflowered Rose

The young peasant girl stretched her back and picked up the last basket of potatoes for the day. She had been working hard from when the day began breaking and the sun shone on the vast landscape to now, late afternoon.

She felt her young bones and muscles ache under the hard days labour and wearily began to haul the basket to the pile collected at the edge of the field. Other villagers assisted in lifting the potatoes onto the cart. She was glad her work was done for the day and was looking forward to bathing in her secret place at a nearby river.

She waited for her reward. Each of the peasant's huts would be allowed twenty potatoes for themselves, the rest would be carted to the Lord of the Manor for his use and selling on the market to maintain his vast wealth.

She was, like her fellow workers, a serf, poor, and the lowest class of the feudal society of her time. She and her parents occupied a plot of land and were required to work for the Lord of the Manor who owned that land. In return, she and her family were entitled to his protection, justice and the right to exploit certain fields within the manor to maintain their own subsistence.

Serfs were often required not only to work on the Lord's fields, but also his mines, forests and roads. The Manor formed the basis of her feudal society and the Lord of the Manor and his Serfs were bound legally, economically, and socially.

Their existence, although harsh and dependent on the kindness of their Master was not such a bad life. They had a roof over their heads, food on their table and the people who lived in the huts had formed into a somewhat extended family and her small village or settlement of fellow workers helped one another when needed.

All of them worked three days a week for the Lord as payment for rent and were also expected to pay banalities (dues) to him for use of his mill, fishing his river and hunting rabbits or other animals on his land. The free days were worked on their own plots allocated to each hut. They would give a third of the produce to their master.

Basket handed in to the Cart men, she began her walk home on the dusty farm track, with her twenty potatoes for the family. The summer breeze was pleasant on her over exerted and tired body.

Raisa, her name meant Rose, had just turned 18 and was fit as a fiddle. She had worked the fields from about the age of 5, helping her mother where possible. Her father worked the roads and mines.

She was now at an age that required her to get married. Her parents had found her a suitor, a boy who was a couple of years older than she. She had known of him from an early age and was expected to marry him when she came of age. Luckily, they liked each other when they eventually met. They were duly betrothed. He was honest, hard-working and worked with her father.

As she walked home, she heard running feet, padding the dirt track, and her face broke in to a smile - it was her Garrick.

"Raisie," he called to her and offered her a shiny red apple, he had polished on his coarse jacket. She took the apple gratefully and bit into it. The succulent juices fired her taste buds.

"Grammarcy (Thank you) my love," She thanked him.

"Our hut wilt be ready for our matrimony" He informed her proudly. (Our home will be ready in time for our wedding)

He had been working on it none stop since she had accepted his proposal and had recently finished the outer wooden structure and padded it with wattle (woven twigs) moss, straw, mud and animal dung to insulate it from the weather.

He was an accomplished carpenter and was now making furniture. In turn she had made curtains and was knitting and making blankets for them from rabbit skins and woven wool. It was situated not far from their parents so they could all help each other in the winter months.

Garrick picked her up and twirled her round.

She laughed out loud at his enthusiasm and scolded him affectionately. "Put me down, Garrick. Thou shalt have to be patient till our wedding night." (Put me down, Garrick. You will have to wait till our wedding night)

He cupped her head and looked lovingly into her eyes, "Now that is something I wilt relish. To feel thy body under mine as I deflower thy beauty and make thee into a woman. My woman."

(Now that is something I will look forward to. To fuck my beautiful wife and make her a woman at last)

She blushed at his promising words and he laughed softly at her embarrassment. He lowered his head and kissed her gently.

"Till Saturday" He promised, the day set for their wedding ceremony. "Methinks I need to finish our matrimonial bed."

(Till Saturday, I need to finish building our bed).

He stroked her face and bid her farewell. Then turned to take a different track to collect more wood for his venture.

She watched him walk away and felt the familiar surge of attraction. He had a fine fit body and his sense of humour and good nature was infectious. She loved him and was looking forward to their life together.

She arrived home and gave her mother the potatoes. Her mother was preparing the evening meal, stoking the fire underneath a pot of water. Her father hadn't arrived home yet.

"I shalt go thither to cleanse at the river," (I'm going to the river to wash) Raisa told her and picked up an old hessian sack to use as a towel, a home-made soap ball made from a mixture of olive oil, lavender buds and rose petals, and a clean cotton dress.

Her mother nodded and told her the food would be ready in about an hour.

Raisa walked to her secret place by the river. It was a little section of the river that was naturally secluded by the location of the trees and shrubs. She had cleared a little area and planted roses, daffodils and assorted plants and flowers.

Her favourite, however, was the two toned pink and white petalled lotus flowers with a yellow centre surrounded by green leaves and shrubbery. They were very pretty growing in the shallows of a river's inlet, almost in their own pond, where the water hardly flowed. They provided a natural fence to the murkier river water and separated her cleaner bathing area.

It was her little garden and piece of heaven. The area was big enough for her to bathe and sit to enjoy the summer weather when work and chores permitted. Her mother had always taught her how important personal hygiene was to keep healthy and prevent disease.

The water, although cold was waist deep and over time, she had moved the rocks and made an area perfect for bathing and there were even boulders ideal for sitting in and out of the water.

She removed her cheap working dress and completely naked stepped into the gently flowing water.

The water was cold. Her nipples immediately puckered and became pointed and her breath caught as she adjusted to the sudden change in temperature. Then she slowly lowered her womanly figure into the water until she was covered up to her neck.

The feeling was bliss on her aching body and she shut her eyes as the water encircled her and caressed her skin. After a few moments she began her cleaning regime. She lowered her head backwards, soaking her long red hair in the water. She felt the running water take her hair in the flow of the river and tease the day's dust out of the strands.

The arched movement of her back, thrust her chest to break the water's surface and it swirled pleasantly around her nipples and ample mounds. Underneath the surface, her hips thrust forward and the water ruffled her pubic hair.

Her pale, freckled skin contrasted with the rich dark blue of the river and the orange hue and reflections of the sun. The rays of the sun shone down on her nude female body, reflecting and shadowing her curves in breath taking natural beauty.

The image of the naked woman enjoying the river and solitude was one he could not take his eyes from. He watched from his horse in silence, enjoying her. No red blooded man would ride on from such a beautiful vision. So he sat and watched unashamed, taking in the beauty of her nudity, her full rounded breasts and erect nipples. They stretched and swayed in her actions of washing her glorious red straight hair. Her body was framed in the glow of the slow sinking sun. She was stunning.

He watched the water caress her torso, the wet glistens on her skin and the foamy suds travelling down her figure as she worked the soap to foam her hair and body. She was very beautiful and he wondered who she was.

He dismounted and walked to her clothes, gathering them up and sat on a boulder further back from the river's edge. She would have to walk to him to retrieve them. He sat patiently, feeling his loins stir at the thought of seeing her rise naked from the water and seeing her breasts and quim in all her glory, walking to him.

In the meantime, he would enjoy watching her in the water, oblivious to his watchful interested eye.

Raisa finished washing and allowed the water to rinse her hair and body until it was sud free and clean and enjoyed a few moments of soaking.

As her eyes were shut in this quiet moment, she suddenly sensed that something or someone was watching her and turned towards the shore line. She opened her eyes wide and saw first, the big black horse grazing the succulent grass, and then, the Lord of the Manor sitting on a boulder watching her.

She recognised him immediately in his dark brown riding breeches, black polished boots and white shirt. He had raven dark hair.

Her heart and tummy thudded and flipped. She was not alone! And he had moved her clothes further away, up the shore by him! She felt very vulnerable and naked under the water!

Her mind raced. "How long had he been there? What had he seen?" She hid her body under the surface in an automated reaction.

He watched her embarrassment, amused, as she realised his presence.

"What be thy name?" He asked. (What's your name?)

She reddened and told him "Raisa. May I have my clothes My Lord?"

He realised, from her words then, she was a peasant who worked his land and not a trespasser.

"Thou canst gather them any time ye wish." (You can fetch them anytime you want) He held out her hessian towel and raised his eyebrows with an amused half smile.

"My lord, I am naked and getting wed on Saturday. I beseech thee, turn thy back and allow me to keep my dignity while I dress," (I am naked, Please turn round and be a gentleman).

She hoped he would show pity of her predicament.

"Dost ye know who I am?" (Do you know who I am?) He asked and continued when she nodded.

"Then thou dost knowest, I am a fair man but I ne'er said I was a gentleman. I have naught pressing to take my time right now. I can tarry hither as long as it takes for thee to comest out of that cold water"

(Then you should know, I never said I was a Gentleman, I have nothing better to do at the moment except see you nude)

She blushed and knew to stay any longer in the cold water would threaten her health with the sun going down. He would be the first man to see her naked too. She trembled at the thought and blushed.

She saw the pragmatic look in his face and manner as he settled back. He would not spare her blushes and she refused to beg. She had her womanly pride too.

She rose and stood in the waist deep water, tilting her chin a little in defiance and felt his eyes watch her and linger on her full pointed breasts and slender waist. She fought against hiding them, determined not to show him any sign of weakness.

Proudly, she began to walk from the shore. She felt the water lower as she took each step into the shallower water. She looked at his face as she walked not even faltering as she felt the water reveal her curvy hips and then her curly triangle, showing him all her secrets.

She stood, nude, before him and held her hand out for the hessian towel.

He held it just out of reach, letting his eyes roam over her naked, wet figure. He stared at her and purposely lowered his eyes so she could see him take in her breasts and hairy muff.

She blushed and reached forward to take the towel but he moved it again just out of reach and she had to lean over him to quickly snatch it and cover herself.

He laughed softly. "Thou art truly beautious and I wilt remember this day for eternity." He paused and thought for a moment, "Thy blushes foretell, thou art not used to a man looking at thy body. Art thou a virgin?"

(You are indeed a beautiful woman and I will remember this vision forever. You blush like a woman of virtue. Are you a virgin?)

She blushed even more, not sure what to say and slipped her clean dress over her head.

She ran then. Ran as fast as she could away from him, scared at any minute, she would hear the galloping hooves of his horse and he would plague her more and prevent her getting safely home.

Lord Jarin of Berry Manor rode into his court yard. The horse's hooves clattered on the cobbled stone floor. Servants were alerted of his arrival and rushed to tend to his horse.

"Search out the Reeve, I wish to speaketh with him" (I want to speak to the Reeve) Lord Jarin demanded. He dismounted and proceeded to stride to the dining room to eat.

A short time later, the Reeve arrived. A man appointed by him and elected by the peasants to communicate any problems or wishes that needed to be bought to attention.

"What dost thee knowest of the girl - Raisa?" He asked. (What do you know of the girl - Raisa?)

The Reeve confirmed that she was a Serf. Raisa and Garrick were to be married this Saturday and that his Lordship had granted such permission last month in one of their weekly meetings. The marriage ceremony was to take place at the settlement at the start of None.

None, a medieval time, would begin at mid-afternoon and extend to sunset, the time was at around 3pm, modern time, for the wedding.

Lord Jarin dismissed him and his food was bought through by his servants. He ate as he contemplated a suitable wedding gift for the couple.

The Village Priest had sanctioned this marriage, had even suggested it to Raisa's and Garrick's parents, many years before, and now they were all here in the settlement village to hear their vows exchanged as was their custom.

As the sundial in the settlement, shadowed the equivalent of 3pm on Saturday, the ceremony commenced.

Raisa was dressed in a simple white gown, down to her ankles with a green ring of white flowers placed around her head. Her dress was mainly plain with lace stitched on top of the material at the front of the square neck and long sleeves. She looked beautiful.

Garrick wore his Sunday best clothes and looked very handsome, black trousers, white shirt with a brown leather waist coat.

They spoke of their love and commitment to each other and just as they were pronounced Man and wife, the ceremony was interrupted by Lord Jarin on his black horse and his soldiers armed with swords and draped in ornamental comparisons (Tabards) showing his crest and colours.

Lord Jarin's heraldry colours were a vert (green) gryphon with a background of purpure (purple) and sable (black) checks.

The priest held up his hand and looked enquiringly at Lord Jarin.

"I come hither to claim Prima Nocta" He announced to the small gathering. Raisa and Garrick were puzzled but the people and priest knew immediately what he was demanding.

The priest explained to them, "Tis a legal right that alloweth Lord Jarin to take the virginity of maiden daughters and brides on his land."

A silence befell the small wedding group and the soldiers gathered round to quell any objections.

Garrick realised his right as a husband was going to be taken away from him and he flew at Lord Jarin attempting to pull him from his horse.

A soldier immediately intervened to protect the Lord, knocking Garrick to the ground and held a sword at his throat.

"Nay!" (No) Raisa shouted and immediately held the blade with her bare hand. Blood oozed from a small cut on her hand where the sharp blade had sliced her skin and she pleaded with the Lord.

"He doth not mean it! He was protecting me! Spare his life and I wilt go forth with thee willingly"

(He doesn't mean it. He was protecting his bride. Spare his life and I will go with you willingly)

Lord Jarin nodded and the soldier allowed Garrick to get to his feet but still kept the sword raised in his direction.

Raisa defiantly ignored the soldier and went to Garrick and kissed him and whispered in his ear,

"It's nought but my body, he dost not have my mind nor my love. Tis ye I wilt think of this night and on the morrow, the morrow's night wilt be ours."

(The night with him means nothing. It is you I love. Tomorrow might will be our wedding night)

She kissed his lips again and then allowed Lord Jarin to pull her up to sit in front of him on his horse.

She looked back at Garrick and mouthed, "I love thee" (I Love You) as they rode away to his manor. The soldiers withdrew and followed their master, leaving the wedding party and groom behind.

The settlers rallied round Garrick to offer words of comfort, advice and support and watched the bride being carried off by Lord Jarin, followed by his soldiers.

Lord Jarin liked this young body pressed against his chest and he could smell roses on her from her home made perfume. It pleased him, she had obviously bathed and prepared her body for her wedding night, a wedding night he was going to enjoy instead of her husband.

He had every intention of enjoying her delights since he had watched her naked in the river. He was unable to get that image from his thoughts. She had bewitched him from that moment on and he knew then, he would take her.

He pulled her in closer to him and nuzzled her hair. He felt her sharp intake of breath which she held for a minute or two, too nervous to move. He liked this power over her and the nervous tension he caused her.

He saw the blood on her hand and gave her a cloth to bind the small cut.

"Grammarcy," (Thank you) she murmured as she wrapped it around the small wound.

"Wench, thy breath will be taken this night, when I make thee beg for my coveting."

(I will sex you up, make you want me) Lord Jarin said softly as he nibbled her ear.

She tried to move her head away but he spoke again, squeezing his arm around her thin waist.

"Remember thy vow to obey my will if I spared the life of thy swain - Garrick."

(Remember your promise to willingly be mine if I spared your peasant husband)

She stilled at that and allowed him to nibble her ear again as they rode.

Raisa's dress had ridden up when he pulled her to sit side ways in front of him. She felt his hand gather her bridal dress at the waist, inching it up further showing her long lithe legs.

His one hand held the reins of the horse and the same arm held her waist. His other was free to stroke her knees and inner thighs at will.

He caressed her softly and whispered, "I wilt make thee a wanton puttock. Methinks the scut betwixt your legs is wet already. Soon ye will beseech my tongue and hardened pole."

(I will make you a greedy slut. I know your pussy is wet for me and soon you will beg me to lick your pussy and fuck you.)

"Ne'er my lord, ye bid too much!" (Never, you ask too much) Raisa tried to rebuke his advances but her shallow quickened breath gave her away.

"We shalt see, Wench. But I feel the heat of the fire within you hath arrived already!"

(Girl, you are turned on already)

She was nude underneath her gown. His fingers found her greased, narrow furrow as they rode. She squeezed her legs shut in a futile effort to stop those probing and stroking fingers. Never had she been touched so and she felt the first soft throbs of wet desire.

The Lord's faithful soldiers followed discreetly behind him as he stoked her embers, teasing her untrained body towards womanhood.