by Witch Fire
Cecily’s jaw tensed and her green eyes sparked fire. “You have no right to talk to me like that. If your sainted mother heard you talking about men with men, she would turn in her grave.”
“Run along and pray she doesn’t do that then.” Celestine pressed her fingers to the brooch at her shoulder serving to tie her gown together. The memory intruded again. A wisp of frightening darkness hovered over her. She stumbled against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the horror she couldn’t remember.
“Milady,” Cecily cried out. “What ails you?”
Celestine remained stilled until the clawing grip of the threatening shadows abated. “Leuric should not be lord here,” she whispered.
“You speak treason, child!” the chaperone exclaimed, reaching out to cradle her in her arms, poisoned love at best.
Celestine batted her hand away, yearning for a few minutes of quiet, a few minutes away from the turmoil of court politics. “I speak the truth and soon it shall be revealed.”
“I beg you, do not let Leuric hear you!”
“Why hide the truth? It has a way of coming out when least expected,” she murmured.
“Child, let me prepare a posset for you so you can sleep. Your mind seems to have become overburdened with the news of your wedding on the morrow.”
“I’ll have none of your potions,” Celestine countered, wishing she was free and able to enjoy the Beltane feasting without restrictions. She had never before enjoyed the celebration in the village but this year, she was determined she would. If only to flaunt her stepfather but she would be careful enough and he would have no reason to find out she had slipped out from the castle. She might even be able to stage her own kidnapping to throw Leuric off her trail. Heat flooded through her breasts and her lower stomach. She wanted a man – a man who wasn’t hesitant about diving deep into her with his cock. She wanted to experience that freedom.
“You’re becoming overwrought. I’ll get you a posset to calm your nerves.”
“My nerves don’t need calming.” Celestine righted herself, glad the memory had slipped away, hoping it wouldn’t return as it did with greater and greater frequency in the last few weeks.
Cecily wrung her hands. “At least lie down and rest a while.”
“I don’t need rest. I need something else but you wouldn’t understand about such things.” Or would the old woman know about how a woman’s body craved a man with sweet agony?
“What you need is to settle down and have children about you.”
Celestine stared at the chaperone. “Are you out of your mind?”
Cecily said nothing but busied herself with folding a blanket.
“Or is it something you’ve been taught since you were little? That all women should want is having children?”
“You’ll be the lady of the manor at Guerverny, milady. All women dream of dressing in grand clothes, being treated with respect and bearing children to continue their husband’s blood line. Won’t you be able to do what you wish once that is accomplished?”
“While some old man paws at me in his bed and sticks his shabby rod into me. Bah! I tell you but I’ll have none of that!”
“The choice, milady, is no longer yours to make,” came the gentle reminder.
Celestine suddenly wanted to be rid of this woman with her promptings and reprimands and her mock soothing voice. “I will never accept him into my bed. If this farce goes through, he will quickly learn he can’t get me there.”
“Accept your fate, milady. A woman marrying a man is the way of the world.”
“I would rather sit in a nunnery for the rest of my years than have some ancient bag of bones touch me!” Celestine knew she lied. How could a nun experience the pleasures of sex with a willing man?
“I take that back. The good sisters would hardly allow a hoyden into their sacred place.”
Celestine itched to slap the self-righteous woman. Of course, she wouldn’t stay in a nunnery long. She was meant to be as free as the unhindered wind. With a good deal more imperiousness than she felt, she ordered, “Send Angelet to me.”
Cecily lowered her eyes and licked her lips before she raised her gaze to Celestine’s. “Tis the way of things, milady, and neither you nor Angelet with her pagan ways will change that.”
“I told you to get Angelet. As for you, get out of my sight!” Celestine ordered, turning away, done with the woman’s nagging.
She heard the door open and close. It was Beltane and she would enjoy the feast to its utmost. For the day, she would simply be Celestine, a peasant, who hungered for a muscled, broad shouldered man with a hard rod he could plunge into her over and over again. She would worry about tomorrow when it came for there was no telling what a new day would bring. Lord Guermont was as ancient as the earth and come the morrow, he might have made his way past the barrier that separated the living from the dead. Let tomorrow take care of itself.
Chapter Two
“Behold O Powers of Water, Earth, Fire and Air,
Spirits of the East, West, North and South,
Calm the waters of this stream
That I might see clearly.
I cast this spell,
Bringing forth light from darkness.”
Angelet raised her arms to the dawn sky as the sun edged over the eastern horizon in a blaze of light and fury to start the new day. Raw energy coursed through her, pulsing down through her fingers, into her neck and shoulders, then into her stomach. This was the power of the Old Ways, power to choose at will.
Lowering her arms, Angelet edged closer to the stream’s edge. She knew that only the eyes of the Old Ones watched – but she felt certain her spellcasting was so powerful that much of the time they simply looked away. The power was hers alone to give or take as she chose.
The cold water rushed and eddied around her tapered ankle, turbulent as was its custom in the spring water melting in the mountains. She was unable to see so much as a shadow of herself. Carefully, she stepped out of the shift, her russet gown already hanging from a branch of an old ash tree. The air smelled fresh and clean and the sun warmed her bare skin but the caress of the cool morning remained.
She observed the water calm to a mirror-like smoothness. Now she witnessed her brazen nudity, comfortable with the sensation. She was safe here, surrounded by towering pine and birch and ash trees. Moss lurked under the trees creating a soft path for those who chose to walk with the thick forest. Humans never came this way.
The tips of Angelet’s waist-length hair fluttered in the breeze and stilled. Slowly she descended into the water, half inch by half inch, gritting her teeth at the freezing cold temperature. This was part of the Old Way, a part a female gloried in.
She opened her legs wide and bit into her lower lip to still the exclaimed “Oh,” that would have come as she allowed the water to lap at her burning clit and the hole of her ass. With her thumb and forefinger, she stretched apart her labia to let the cold water sear into her bottom like an inverted chalice. Her nipples were already hardened coral peaks. She took a deep breath and lowered her breasts into the water. Each morning, whether the weather was pleasant or inclement, she performed this ritual. She was female, of the Old Ways, and would continue until she breathed no more.
Soft laughter broke from her lips. Should she cast a spell for a male this morning or should she fuck herself with her long fingers as the sky with its puffy clouds gave witness?
She rose from the water, a silken nymph ascending from the depths of oblivion, drinking in her total nudity. Why were clothes such an essential part of human life? What a waste not to be able to show naked flesh.
The water lapped at her feet, still a reflective mirror of her bareness. With her legs apart, she placed her fingers to her clit again and began to massage the aching nub gently. Angelet groaned at the aching need and all too quickly, the moment of utter release came spiraling onto her. Her fingers paused as she caught her breath, refusing to allow the first climax to come so quickly
. She needed a man to fill her.
Casting her arms to the sky, she said in a hushed whisper,
“Powers of the East, West, North, and South,
Come upon me Earth, Air, Water and Fire.
Bring fulfillment with a long, hard cock.
I cast this spell,
Bringing forth my uttermost need from darkness into light.”
Unlike other times when the humid air quivered around her, this time the man came to her on the rift of a breeze. All Angelet could make out was exactly what she had asked for. The man’s cock was long and hard and throbbing with readiness to plunge into her and satisfy her pent up need. The men she conjured never spoke. Sometimes they were tanned gods with bulging biceps and rock hard chests. Other times, they were like this – ready to delight her for however long her spell had staying power.
Now, the unseen man grabbed her around her waist none too gently and lifted her into the air. She clamped her ankles around the back of his slim waist and fastened her arms around his neck, still unable to see his face. She breathed a sigh of relief. The overpowering aura of his invisible body wrapped around her, elevating her to a higher state of arousal.
She took the lead and opened her slit wide welcoming his cock inside her. The thick rod throbbed as he slid in so slowly she wanted to scream for him to hurry. But a spirit always did as he willed and took his own time going about the task of fucking her until her nerves frayed.
To her amazement, he lifted her higher and filled her more fully before he began to toy with her left nipple with the pad of his unseen finger. Her breasts felt fuller and she became even wetter than she thought possible. With ease, he began to thrust in and out of her vagina, each movement choreographed to make her bite her tongue to urge him to move on more quickly.
Angelet had no idea if he plunged in to her for a short eternity or only for a few seconds. Once again, the pressure for release began to mount within her. She tightened her ass pulling the being more fully within her. He edged as far as he could go. The pace picked up, stroking and stroking the velvet inside of her pussy. She cried out, an anguished, forlorn cry of climax as her world shattered into a million rainbow pieces.
As always, she lost consciousness. When she awakened she lay on the dewy grass, her only clothing the warmth of the sun arcing higher into the sun. The day’s ritual was done.
Chapter Three
Angelet arrived in a flurry of gray-blue skirts, her rounded face flushed from the exertion of hurrying up the stairs and along the corridor. “Is something wrong, milady?” she asked, bending from the waist in an imitation of a curtsey.
“You little witch,” Celestine muttered good-naturedly in greeting. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves.”
Her maid’s smoke gray eyes twinkled with amusement. “In the village, you mean?”
Celestine nodded. “Where else were you thinking of?”
“I know of ways to entertain you.” Angelet winked as she neared. She was a witch of the Old School, capable of casting a spell or two filled with sexual and not so sexual energy, which now emanated from her. Celestine swore she could smell the musky essence of her weeping sheath. She was amazed to find her own quivering in response.
“Don’t I know it.” She pulled the gown from her body, wondering if she could wear emerald green again without thinking about being forced to marry an old man who probably couldn’t get his cock up anyway. What would the old bastard’s stick look like anyway? Shriveled almost beyond recognition? She really didn’t want to find out. “I need a man,” Celestine grumbled.
“I know you do but I can serve your present longing quite well.” Angelet batted her eyelashes. “Get naked. I’ll pleasure you till you scream with delight.”
Celestine hesitated only for a second. Once the desire burning within was lit, there was only one way to put the damned thing out. With her fingers or those or another. She preferred a man but Angelet’s long, delicate fingers would do just fine. Her nipples peaked into tight, aching buds. She allowed her maid to slip the silk shift over her head. Her nipples tightened even more and pointed straight towards Angelet.
“Spread your legs apart.”
Celestine complied, sliding her feet shoulder length apart, feeling the delicious sensation of a cool breeze fanning her all too warm clit. Angelet sank to her knees but raised her shiny eyes to Celestine’s.
“Did you cast a spell?” Celestine asked, her breath hitching with anticipation. She wanted the fire out but on the other hand, she wanted the fire inside her to burn on and on with pleasure.
“For you I need not cast a spell. You’re always yearning with sensuous energy.”
Celestine gave her a heated glance. “Why is it that men can run out and find themselves a woman and not commit themselves but a woman can’t?”
Angelet shrugged. “Men do what they want. We have our own pleasures to attend to. It’s just that we’re not so open about them.” The maid ran a tingling fingertip past Celestine’s knee and slowly up her thigh. “What happened that Leuric called you in so early?”
Celestine could hardly breathe. Angelet’s touch notched up the fire by several degrees. “He wants me to marry some old fart.”
Angelet kept her eyes on Celestine’s face. “It was bound to happen one day.”
“What? Getting married, or marrying an old fart?”
“Never mind. I can see we’ll be sparring today. When is the event to take place?”
“Tomorrow,” Celestine responded resignedly. “Before I do that, I want a man to thrust his long cock into me, like you will your fingers.” She raised her small breasts and squeezed them together, thumbing the nipples with the pads of her thumbs. She fought to breathe as Angelet’s fingers wove into the thickset, curly hairs of her mons.
“Touch my clit,” Celestine demanded. “You, of all people, should know how hungry I am.” She stopped short of demanding the maid find her a man to fuck with.
A smile tugged at the corner of her maid’s mouth. “I do know.”
Celestine threw her head back and laughed. “I’m young. I’ve got a lifetime of prudishness in front of me. This one day I can celebrate being a woman.”
She shuddered as Angelet spread her legs wider apart and that toying finger inched closer to her wet clit.
Angelet shrugged, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You play with death and fire if you care to flout Leuric’s wishes.”
“Slide your finger into me,” Celestine pleaded, losing her patience. What did she care at the moment what Leuric did?
“All good things come to those who wait,” the maid whispered. “As for me, I yearn to run naked through the forest, to feel the breeze caressing my naked flesh, to feel leaves brushing against my skin.”
“Isn’t that how you worship the goddess?”
“Aye, I do.” Angelet’s fingers slid closer to the noblewoman’s glistening clit. If only Celestine knew how she worshipped, but there were some things that weren’t meant for her to know. There was power and raw energy in touching Celestine and making her pant for more. “Remember that time you were fucking yourself and I caught you?”
Celestine remembered all too well. Her cheeks flamed, not with embarrassment, but with satisfaction.
Angelet’s smile widened and her eyes brightened. “You’re a hot lady. Can’t stop you from doing certain things.”
Celestine grinned at the woman who had taught her the old ways – the old ways that demanded women be respected, where women could please themselves with or without men and not fear the retribution of their male relatives.
Angelet’s finger slid closer and closer but even before soft flesh met trembling flesh, Celestine clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sharp exclamation at the quick explosion of her body.
Angelet plunged two fingers into the spurting juices. Celestine spread her legs wider and she cried out with muted satisfaction. She could not afford Leuric’s guards walking in on her and demanding what she was up to. Or worse yet
, Leuric himself.
Chapter Four
The Hidden Observer watched in fascination from a crack in the stone wall as the plump maid knelt in front of Celestine. His Treasure stood in unrelieved naked profile to him. Her ass looked like a ripe peach bursting with juice and begging to be harvested from the tree. She lured him without a word just by squeezing her small breasts together and stroking her budded nipples with the pads of her fingers. She tilted her head back, her lips slightly parted, her eyes shielded by feathered eyelashes and her hair spilling down her back to end at her knees. He could only imagine how wet she must be.
The maid, rot her soul, didn’t even blush as she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Celestine’s buttocks and reached her fingers to his Treasure’s clit from behind. Celestine shifted, edging her legs wider apart. His heart thundered in his ears. Would his Treasure hear his heart calling out to hers?
A groan escaped Celestine’s lips as the maid slid her palm between her legs. Moments later, she sluiced a wet path down the inside of Celestine’s thigh. It didn’t take much for him to imagine what the maid was up to – stretching Celestine’s pussy lips apart and searching for the tiny nub of hardened pleasure. How he ached to find that spot with his strong fingers as she lay sideways on the bed with her glorious dark silky mass of hair hanging down to the floor. Her legs would be wide open so he could see the pink flesh surrounded by dark hair and even perhaps the hole of her ass. She would never again be able to hide anything like this from him. His pleasure would be hers – he would make certain of that.
His fledgling erection grew as he watched the maid, emitting tiny gasps, explore between Celestine’s thighs. She thrust her hips forward, grinding against the maid’s fingers. He reached under his homespun woolen tunic and touched his engorged penis, aching to take Celestine into his arms, to show her what pleasure truly meant, even if he had to do so, at first, against her protests.