My Sweet Degradation

by J Phillips

  In time the leader asked her why on earth she was wearing so many clothes on such a hot day, and with a foolish grin Red threw out an arm to strike him across the chest. She told him not to be so stupid, as in a blouse and skirt she could not possibly be wearing any less. The man furrowed his brow and questioned why not, as where he and his friends came from it was just as normal for a lady to remove her shirt beneath the heat of the sun as it was for a man. Through hooded eyes Little Red giggled at the idea, and taking another sip from her mug, she proceeded to furnish herself with an enormous frothy moustache, much to the amusement of her newfound friends.

  ‘That’s just shilly,’ she slurred. ‘You’re telling fibs.’ But the men quickly assured her that it was absolutely the truth.

  After yet another top-up, and the men pressing the idea on her further, Red hazily began to think that it actually wasn’t such a strange idea for a young lady such as she to remove her blouse, as it really was a very hot day. Apart from anything, if it was what the womenfolk did where the travellers came from then where could possibly be the harm?

  With a final few charmed words of encouragement from the men, she agreed that it would be nice to feel the breeze against her shoulders, and so she set about unbuttoning her blouse, an act that had once seemed so simple yet for some reason was now fraught with difficulty. Soon enough, however, and with the kind help of the leader, Red’s shirt was removed and she sat as naked from the waist up as any there. It felt a little strange to begin with, to expose her breasts to a group of men, but she reminded herself that it was quite normal where they came from, and besides, they were all extremely complimentary, declaring that Red’s could well be the finest pair they had ever set eyes on, and how pretty her nipples looked standing all rosy and pink.

  As the last of the ale was shared out the leader, in a hushed tone, asked Red if she believed in magic, to which she hiccupped and replied, ‘Of coursh I don’t. Stories about magic are jusht for children.’ The men muttered amongst themselves disapprovingly, and one or two even went as far as to make strange gestures with their fingers against their foreheads. The handsome leader looked deep into Red’s eyes and told her that she should not talk about magic in such a way, as it was bad luck to do so. He explained that magic was all around them, in the wind, in the trees and even in the soil where they sat, and as if to prove his point, he quickly leaned forward, reaching a hand behind her ear and produced a shiny new penny, which he pressed into her palm.

  Red was absolutely astounded and demanded he do it again, but he explained that such a gift was a sacred power and could only be used sparingly. He did offer to show her another enchantment, however, and making her stand with him he stepped back and muttered an incantation to the skies before quickly clapping his hands together twice, whereupon Red’s skirt dropped to the ground to leave her standing in her drawers only. The workers laughed and whistled, and in a way that Red thought rather cruel, but before she had time to decide whether she was affronted or not the leader apologised for his silly trick, offering her a white-toothed smile that had way more powerful an effect on her than any of his silly ‘magic’.

  With a sudden frown he looked first to Little Red’s left shoulder and then to her right, declaring with genuine concern that her beautiful skin was burning beneath the heat of the sun, and looking down she could see that he wasn’t wrong. She suggested that she pull her blouse back on, but with a quick instruction to one of his men the leader told her that before she did so he had a soothing balm he should first apply.

  Red had heard talk of the travellers’ skills with herbs, and she was intrigued to see what was inside the tiny cork-stoppered flagon the leader was quickly handed. He explained to her that it was a secret concoction known only to travellers, and was made from a blend of fine oils and a combination of rare and precious plant extracts that could soothe even the deepest of wounds. Holding the flagon up to her nose he encouraged her to inhale its scent, and taking a cautious sniff, Red discovered it gave off a strong yet not at all unpleasant aroma. The leader explained that although it might feel a little strange, a man touching her naked flesh, only a traveller versed in the ways of ancient medicine was allowed to apply such an ointment, and he stepped behind her without giving her chance to question him further.

  Red gasped and tensed her muscles as she felt his fingers press against her shoulders, but she was quickly soothed by his soft words and the cool, fragrant balm, and he proceeded to carefully smooth it first one way and then the other. She couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his strong, calloused hands, as they moved lower to press into the tight muscles of her upper back, and the silk-like caress of the oil, and she closed her eyes and released a sigh of pure rapture.

  Soon his fingers moved lower to rub the base of her spine, and then around her waist so that his palms ran across her belly. ‘Oh!’ Red gasped. ‘I... I think I’ll be fine now, thank you,’ but the leader only continued, allowing his hands to travel higher. She could feel his groin pressing into her bottom, his strong arms enveloping her from behind, and she felt powerless to resist, even though she knew well that she should. She gasped and arched her back, pressing against his strong chest as his fingers began to stroke around the lower curve of her breasts.

  ‘No really, please...’ she panted, as his cupped palms moved up to smooth the salve directly over her nipples. His mouth was against her ear and it caused a shiver to run the length of her spine as he whispered in that thick, seductive accent that she should just relax and allow the ointment to work its magic. And swallowing hard Red did just that, whereupon he began to repeatedly pull her nipples with fingers and thumbs and in a way that would probably have hurt had it not been for the slippery nature of the oil, and as a result, it only felt good.

  Red could picture how her nipples would look – she’d seen them that way many times from her own teasing – but she dared not open her eyes to witness it for herself.

  The handsome traveller began to run his hands all over her breasts, lifting and squeezing until they were thoroughly coated in the balm. Red felt certain that it must be wrong to allow a stranger to touch her in such a way, but she kept on reassuring herself that he was a medicine man and was simply tending to her slightly burnt flesh. But as she felt his hands slide lower once more, down over her flat stomach, as she felt a gentle tug at the bow holding up her drawers, she could no longer kid herself that all was quite so innocent.

  ‘No!’ she gasped through a dry throat as she felt her underwear slip down her thighs. Her eyes flashed open and she saw how the men had closed in around her, and that they were grinning and wetting their lips as though presented with a wonderful feast. She felt one of the leader’s strong arms close tight around her waist while the other slipped down between her thighs. She made an attempt to pull away, but he held her so tightly and again he whispered that all was well and that she should simply enjoy the effects of the soothing oil. And she wanted to believe him, but the look on the other men’s faces told her a different story, and as a finger pressed firmly and she felt her pussy lips begin to separate she drew a breath to protest, when all of a sudden a shout came from the back of the group.

  Red was immediately released, and she looked down to see first her drawers and then her skirt being quickly pulled back up her legs. Her blouse was draped around her shoulders and her arms thrust through its sleeves without so much as a trace of the careful caresses she’d experienced just a moment before. With a final hiss against her ear she was told that her father was on his way, and that if he was to catch her with the men he would have her guts for garters. And with a quick slap of the arse she was told to run, and to come back and see them again very soon.

  So on unsteady legs Red dashed away to the woods at the edge of her father’s land, clumsily trying to fasten the buttons of her blouse as she went.

  When later she returned to the farmhouse, having slept off the effects of the ale in a hollow at
the foot of an old oak tree, it was to a monumental scolding from her father. Under threat of a lashing he demanded to know where she’d been and what she’d been up to, whereupon she explained that having served the workers their refreshment she felt so flushed with the heat that she headed off to the creek for a dip. Both shocked and impressed by how easily she could lie, she went on to say how she must have fallen asleep through the heat of the afternoon sun and promised to make up for the chores she’d missed ten times over. Her father grudgingly accepted her apology, but with a suspicious glance he told her she was no longer permitted to take lunch out to the travellers.

  Later that night, as the moonlight streamed in through her open bedroom window, Red lay awake realising how stupid she’d been to be tricked so easily, and what a lucky escape she’d had. But at the same time she could not stop her fingers from sliding down to you-know-where, to rub her clit while she imagined the men in the field and what they might have done to her naked body had things turned out only a little differently.

  And so, dear reader, you will now expect me to tell you that Little Red’s experience with the travellers taught her a valuable lesson, but alas that is something I am unable to convey. If anything, that experience only added to her frustration and encouraged her to behave just as badly as ever. Only a few days later saw her explaining to the neighbouring farm lads how she fully intended to take a trip to the creek for a bathe later that afternoon as the mountain water worked wonders on her hair. Inevitably, and not terribly subtly, the young men followed on behind, but upon reaching the creek she discovered that it was already taken by the baker’s wife and her two fat brats. Red kicked at the dry earth angrily as she would now have to forgo her little tease, until it occurred to her that the Foss was only another half a mile or so upstream, and so with no little annoyance she continued on her way, turning every so often to check that her young trackers were still in tow, yet giving them just enough time to dive behind the nearest gorse bush or rock.

  The Foss was a small waterfall at the very edge of the old forest. The water was much cooler here as it was deeper, and had little chance to have been warmed by the sun, but for a strong swimmer such as Red it was a wonderful spot for a dip. And no sooner had she arrived at its banks than she peeled off her clothes and dived in.

  Red slipped through the water like a little otter, gasping from the cold each time she came up for air. After a short while she climbed carefully across the slippery rocks at the base of the fall, while taking a casual look to see if her audience was still with her. At first she began to wonder if they’d given up and gone home, but soon enough she spotted them tucked away behind a fallen tree. She stood in the spray of the cascade, naked and utterly brazen. She rinsed the thick main of her hair in the fall, before pulling it back and allowing it to slap in a thick rope between her shoulders.

  She eventually dived back into the pool, only to resurface on the far bank. Climbing from the water she felt utterly invigorated and even offered a silent thank you to the baker’s wife for her enforced change of plan. She wandered back up to where the lush meadow met with the big flat stones, before settling herself down in the soft grass.

  After such a refreshing swim Red no longer really cared about the farm boys, but that did not stop her thoughts from inevitably turning to that one thing she wanted to experience more than anything else in the world, and she soon lay down on her back. The late afternoon sun warmed her naked flesh and she parted her thighs to accept its caress more intimately still. A gentle breeze teased the beaded moisture upon her milky flesh, and caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. She allowed one hand to trace across the soft contours of her body, and she liked what she found.

  Now, although I may not have painted young Red in the best of possible lights, I should say that up until this point she had only ever displayed her body by way of a tease, and that she’d done so behind a certain, if poorly drawn, veil of innocence. On this occasion, however, Red’s display moved onto a whole new level, and well aware that she was being observed she began to touch herself, cautiously at first, but then with greater and greater abandon. She desperately needed to experience a man, and as she lay there in the grass, frigging her poor neglected pussy for all it was worth, she only wished that those two stupid boys would come down and just take her.

  She would have made it so easy for them. Obviously she would protest and she would struggle, but she would not have fought hard and if questions were asked she would have said it was hard to tell with the sun being so low in the sky. But she’d chosen farm boys for her prey, and boys they clearly were, as despite the fact that she was lying naked and fucking herself with two fingers neither dared to join her, to give her what she truly desired.

  Little did she know, but on that fateful afternoon, when she finally brought herself to a shuddering climax, her little performance was not only being enjoyed by the two farm boys crouched with cocks in fists behind the fallen tree. No, not at all. There was another watching that day, and he was every bit the real man she dreamed of. He was big, he was strong and he was dangerous, but Red knew not that he was there.

  A moment later, as she tried to steady her breathing, her fingers still held tight between her pussy lips, a great howl shattered the lazy afternoon silence of the forest, and suddenly startled she hurriedly dressed and dashed off home without so much as a glance to see if the farm boys were behind her.

  Later that afternoon, while Red helped her mother prepare a stew for supper, she casually asked the question that had been troubling her since she scurried back down the hill from the Foss. ‘Mother,’ she began, ‘are there wolves in the old forest?’

  Her mother laughed. ‘Of course not, you silly thing. The wolves were all driven back into the mountains many years ago.’

  ‘But I could have sworn I heard one this afternoon,’ Red said, pausing halfway through chopping a carrot and furrowing her brow.

  Her mother continued to stir the broth on the stove before going on with a smile. ‘Well perhaps you didn’t hear a wolf dear, but you heard the Wolf.’

  This only added to Little Red’s confusion, and she looked at her mother with a frown. ‘But I thought you said...’

  ‘The Wolf is not actually a real wolf, although one or two old crones with too much time on their hands will gladly tell you that during the full-moon he will take on the shape of a giant beast and come stalking into the village looking for a young virgin to take back to his lair.’

  Red looked at her mother through wide eyes, both terrified and excited by the tale. ‘But, but is he real, have you seen him?’ she quickly asked, and her mother looked wistfully into her steaming pot before going on.

  ‘Oh, he’s real all right, but he’s no more magical than you or I. I saw him once when you were just a little girl. I was taking a pie and an arrangement of flowers over to the church in readiness for Harvest Festival, and your father had asked me to stop by Jameson’s to pick up a new axe handle he’d ordered. I was in the store asking the old man how his daughter was getting on with her new babe, when suddenly the door burst open and it seemed as though all daylight had been sucked from the room.’

  Little Red felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  ‘The look of terror on Jameson’s face was an absolute picture, and it was enough to have me quickly spinning round to see who, or what, had just entered. And there he stood, towering over me with a good six or seven deer skins slung beneath an arm as though they were no heavier than a basket of strawberries.’

  ‘But what was he like?’ Red excitedly implored. ‘Was he handsome?’

  Red’s mother smiled to herself before continuing. ‘Yes, you could definitely call him handsome, but perhaps not in the traditional way. He looked big and strong like a real man should. You could see why they called him the Wolf, as his hair was rather shaggy and more grey than black. He can’t have shaved in over a week as his beard was thick, but for t
hree long lines running diagonally across one cheek where no bristle would grow. I’ve heard it said that they were scars gifted to him by the last lone wolf to roam the forest, when they came across each other one moonlit night and were forced to fight for dominion. He wears an enormous fur cloak on his back too, and some claim it is the hide of that very same beast.’ She stared dreamily into the steam rising from the pot. ‘His eyes were more animal than human, too, as they were a very pale blue, and the way he looked at me gave me the unnerving impression he was sizing me up, seeking out my weaknesses, and it caused my poor heart to skip a beat.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Red pressed eagerly.

  ‘Nothing; I didn’t give him chance to. To my shame I simply ran from the shop, forgetting father’s axe handle completely.

  ‘But there’s a lot of nonsense spoken about the Wolf if you ask me,’ she continued. ‘I’d say he’s just a man who prefers his own company, and who can blame him for that? But either way he’s different to folk round here, and that makes him dangerous. Some say he keeps a cottage deep in the forest, but I’ve never known anyone who’s ever seen it.

  ‘Anyway, young lady,’ Red’s mother went on, turning and facing her daughter with hands on hips, ‘what were you doing near the old forest that you might, or might not, have heard a wolf howl?’

  Red quickly turned and applied herself once more to her chopping. ‘Oh, nothing,’ she said with all the bluff innocence she could muster. ‘I... I just went up to the Foss for a quick dip.’