The Initiation of Constance Ch. 01

As Constance ran she could feel her heart pounding, leaping from her breast up into her mouth with every long fast stride she took. The shouts from the village were receding behind her, but she knew it was only a matter of minutes before men on horses would follow her down the woodland road. She rounded a bend and stopped to catch her breath, the hems of her long skirts were soaked and muddy, she tried to wring them out but they were too heavy. Like all women of her time Constance wore several skirts and underskirts and petticoats, four in total, and each was sodden up to the knees. The rain came down, running off her face and down her shoulders, she wished she'd had time to grab something to keep the rain off. She was wet to the skin and shivering, though whether from the cold, or panic, or both she knew not.

Sure enough, not a minute had passed before Constance was brought back to her senses by the sound of hooves, how many she could not tell. She picked up her heavy skirts and ran on, the blood drumming in her ears, or perhaps it was the drumming of the horses, she could no longer tell. Tears were running down her face already soaked by the rain, but still she ran, never daring to glance behind her at her pursuers.

If she could get off the path she could perhaps lose her pursuers in the woods, but she herself could never get far into the trees with her skirts pulling her down. She could not weave in and out of the undergrowth with the wet and muddy hems slapping and sticking against her legs, nor could she stop and remove her skirts for before the first had been unbuttoned the riders would have made good the distance between them and been upon her. Wearily, half stumbling then she ran on, one foot in front of the other, each pace a strain at her tired limbs. She had been working all day and was tired, and though she was young and healthy the cold and wet made her muscles ache.

Once she stumbled, nearly fell, she grazed her hands on the ground as she pushed herself back up again. As she ran she tore at her skirts, she had to get them off, she pulled at the buttons which held them up, tearing the thread, the buttons flew off the first and it dropped like a ring of lead to the road. Without breaking her stride Constance stepped out of it and began to pull at the second. As it fell it caught around her legs, she lost her footing and fell, but she did not notice as she hit the ground with a thump. As she had stumbled the riders had caught up with her, the first leaning out of his saddle had brought a cudgel down upon the back of her head, sending her into unconscious oblivion. Her tiredness was gone, her aching limbs pained her no more and all was black.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

When she came to Constance found herself in a wood panelled room. The only furniture was the low cot she was lying on. All was silent. Constance had no notion of where she was or how long she had lain there. The sunlight coming through the window was low. She was hungry, her head was throbbing, her hands stung bitterly, as did her face. Her clothes, still damp and filthy clung to her body, and the room was chilly despite the sunlight. Looking around the room Constance noticed the fireplace had been bricked up and the window was barred. Getting up she crossed to the window and looking out could see the back of the church, so familiar to her. She was still in her own village, and it seemed was in the magistrate's house. In a village without no more than a lock-up for vagrants and drunks it didn't surprise Constance that she had been taken to the magistrate's home for incarceration.

Constance's footsteps must have been heard downstairs, for as she stood looking from the window the door opened quietly. Constance turned to see two men she knew: Raynald, the magistrate's man, and Richard Brewer, a young man, near her own age whom she had known since childhood.

"You know why you're here?" asked Brewer.

Constance just stared dumbly. The night she had been caught she was returning from the orchard, and nearing her home saw her mother and sisters being dragged from their house by men carrying torches, sticks, swords and pistols.

"Where are my mother and my sisters?" she replied.

"Your mother and youngest sister are in the lock-up. There was no room for you there so you and your other sister are here. You know why you're here?" repeated Brewer.

Constance could not answer him so Brewer went on:

"You're here because the Devil has taken you and your family. Your father was a good man, but since his death your mother and your sisters have sold themselves to Satan, and you too have been his whore. Undress."

Still Constance stood, silent and motionless, dumbfounded by what she had heard.

"Undress!" roared Brewer, banging his fist on the oak panelling.

Raynald took a step forward. "I'll do it if she won't" he muttered, but Brewer held him back.

"No Raynald, you'd like that wouldn't you? But we'll let Eliza do it."

The two men left and a few minutes later the door was opened again, this time Eliza the magistrate's house servant stood in the doorway. Eliza was about the same age as Constance, perhaps a year or two younger. Her face was plain but attractive, her clothing was unadorned but served well to show off her figure. She was not thin by any means, but she carried her plumpness well, her curves were round and her breasts, large and white, strained for release from the bodice and stays she was wearing.

"I'm sorry," Eliza whispered, "I must do this."

Eliza stepped forward and began to unlace Constance's bodice. She pushed the bodice back over Constance's shoulders from where it fell to the ground. Without moving she reached her arms around Constance to unfasten the button of her top skirt. As she reached around the two girls' faces were closed together, Constance could feel Eliza's breath on her neck and cheek, coming in short unmeasured breaths. Eliza bowed her head to see what she was doing over Constance's shoulder and her hot breath went down the back of Constance's chemise, sending a gentle shudder through her.

Constance for her part had never felt the breath of another human so closely upon her skin. It tingled, and excited her, and for the moment all thought of her predicament was pushed from her mind by a pleasure she had never experienced. She lowered her eyes, and there before her was Eliza's neck. She longed to touch it, to kiss it perhaps, and she longed to feel Eliza's sweet breath upon her whole body.

First one, then the second of Constance's skirts fell to the floor. She looked Eliza in the eye, but when Eliza looked back, turned away embarrassed. Eliza smiled and placed a hand on Constance's cheek. Constance turned her head once more to face Eliza's and was met by her warm lips, gentle on her own. Without Constance realising how, Eliza had unfastened her stays and she stood now in just her chemise, shapeless and virginal white. Both girls bowed their head, their foreheads touching as Eliza untied the lace at the neck of Constance's chemise and it fell to the floor. Eliza's hands ran from her shoulders down to her firm breasts, gently her fingertips crossed Constance's nipples. Constance let out a little, quiet cry. This sensation was new to her, she did not know how to feel, how to react or how to reciprocate. Eliza's hands moved down her waist, round and across her buttocks where they remained.

As Constance opened her eyes Eliza spoke:

"I have done my task. Would you care for me to stay and comfort you, or would you prefer to be alone?"

Constance was lost in a wave of feelings she did not understand. She looked at Eliza, longing to kiss her lips, longing to hold her. By way of an answer she gave in, as she knew she must, and placed a long kiss upon those sweet lips whose breath had so excited her.

Eliza let go of Constance's behind and began to unfasten her own garments, pulling them off one by one until she was as naked as Constance. She sat upon the cot in the corner of the room and beckoned Constance to join her. Together they lay down, their skin touching, each tingling with electricity at the excitement as their hands followed the lines of the other girl's body. Constance's hands fumbled at Eliza's face, trying to take in the shape of her cheek bones, her lips, her neck. Down they moved to her breasts, large and plump, round, white, and surmounted by nipples that were erect and hard to the touch.

Eliza's lips met Constance's again and again, their tongues darting out and meeting for the briefest of moments. Her hands cupped around Constance's breasts, smaller than her own but perfect in shape. As she held Constance tight she bowed her head and took a nipple between her lips. Constance moaned gently and she felt the nipple slowly stiffen as she ran her tongue around it. Gently she teased it with her teeth, pulling it and letting it go again. She moved her head to Constance's other breast, kissing it, gently sucking, then once more running her tongue around and around it until it was hard between her lips.

Eliza's hand moved down, across Constance's belly until it met the thick wiry hair it sought. With increased pressure now she pushed her hand through the hair, across the skin, until it met with the soft folds of Constance's most intimate part. Constance gasped as Eliza's fingers flicked lightly across her clitoris, teasing it, playing with it. One finger probed the entrance to her pussy, moving round and round, feeling Constance's wetness before suddenly sliding inside.

To Constance it was the most pleasurable thing she had ever experienced. She had masturbated of course, and imagined love with a husband, but in her wildest dreams she had no thought of what was happening to her now. She suppressed the urge to cry out, but a surge of golden energy flowed though her as Eliza's clever fingers twisted and turned and did she knew not what inside her, and Eliza's tongue seemed to be everywhere at once. The feeling of power spread through her, from the middle of her body outwards, when it reached her whole body she convulsed and shuddered with the most excruciating pleasure she had ever imagined. She hardly knew what she was doing or what had been done to her when she opened her eyes. Her arms were tight around Eliza's naked body while Eliza kissed her on the lips.

Wasting no time Eliza got up, smiling and began to dress.

"You are here because they think you are a witch," she said as she pulled her chemise over her head, "but you're not are you?"

Constance shook her head, not understanding fully what had happened to her.

"You're not a witch," carried on Eliza, "but I am. No, don't be afraid. I bewitched you now to make you forget your troubles, to make you lose yourself in my touch for a time. If you will come with me I will save you. I must leave you now, but I ask you to trust me, when the time comes you will be safe, and so will your sister. I cannot guarantee the safety of your mother and youngest sister since they are in the lock-up and I cannot get to them, but I will let no real harm come to you, if you will come with me."

"I will come," murmured Constance.

"Good" replied Eliza as she left the room carrying a bundle of clothing.

Constance lay down, naked, on her cot and began to think over the events of the last hour.