"Vale of Tears" - A Medieval Erotic Tale - Chapter Six: Things Near
For previous chapters, see posts below.
Vale of Tears
Chapter Six - Things Near
Two days afore, he had kissed my hand. I had slipped into th’infirmary under the pretence of ministering to those old stagers who lived there now, Brothers James and Owen. Brother James, unable to speak, unable to rise from his bed any longer, had stared at me with rheumy eyes as I read from the gospels. Brother Owen, possessed of a demon who made him dance and laugh when e’er he was awake, had perpetually interrupted me with outpourings of, “Hey nonny nonny” and “There was a wench who once I loved”. All the while, I glanced sideways to where Brother Rufus lay.
Brother Jocelyn had him on his belly whilst he rubbed Friar’s Balsam into his back to shield his wounds from malign influence. The hard line of th’infirmarian’s mouth spake that he took no pleasure in punishment’s spectacle. Brother Rufus’ back was a red oblong with feath’ry sides. Slashes of deeper red appeared hither and thither, darkening now to brown. As I had passed, he had grabbed my hand and kissed it without looking up. My thoughts captured the sensation and cycled it o’er and o’er, till this nothing point on the back of my hand burned like holy fire.
Later that day, he lay prone for me again, abject as a kicked dog, beside the silently weeping form of Brother Aidan. The rest of us looked ahead and stepped o’er them both as we made our way into church for Vespers.
_________________________________________________________________________
The ducks were no longer hungry. ‘Twas twilight and they wished to retire from my presence, from the presence of the fool who stood beside the fishpond in the evening mist, absent-mindedly throwing stale bread into empty waters. They glared at me baleful as Gwyn ap Nudd’s hounds from the green and bronze bracken. I was lost in reverie, kissed ‘pon the hand so many times in dreams the glow had spread to my waking body. I lost the bone-stabbing cold of this hill-crowded valley, turned my back ‘pon the lowering presence of the abbey and pressed mine own lips to the spot. They felt like splinters of stone compared to the fulsome kisses of him.
A fox shrieked. ‘Twas far away, yet I seemed to smell its musk afore me. The diff’rence ‘twixt things far and things near began to shrink as the light failed. Real and not real, material and spirit, all merged in the twilight. I turned back to the abbey and saw an incubus approach. I lived amongst monks, was one myself, yet this brother in his unearthly white habit seemed foreign and frightening to me. Relentlessly he came, marching more like a soldier than processing as a monk ought. Once within ten yards, he threw back his cowl and I saw ‘twas, as I had known it must be, Brother Rufus. His mouth was trenchant, his eyes huge and swallowing. There was to be no denying him. Yet still I harked myself softly cry as he grabbed mine arms and forced me back into the bracken, “O my brother, ‘ware, ‘ware!”
The fox had made in a hollow nearby a secret place for himself to lie in the day. At the sight of us crashing toward him, he leapt to his four dainty feet and slunk off into the foothills of Eglwyseg Mountain.
He pushed me down in the dell. I smelled a thousand things at once - fox, the honeyed smell of bracken, the medicinal vapours of Friar’s Balsam, the heavy musk of his maleness freed as he pulled his woollen habit o’er his head. The linen tunic followed and then his nakedness was bearing down ‘pon me, white arms and white chest, mouth crashing hard ‘gainst mine own. ‘Twas not as it had been afore, tentative and clumsy. He had both his arms about me, a hand at the back of my head forcing me up to meet his lips. He was purposeful as any lover from tales of romance. I felt cossetted and devoured.
Something new moved ‘gainst my lips and I apprehended with a start ‘twas his tongue sliding o’er me, then pushing ‘twixt my lips to probe the treasures of my mouth. I cried out, cried into his mouth and I knew my entire being gave up all resistance then, and I lay quivering like a doe with a wolf’s mouth ‘pon its throat.
Brother Rufus sate back. Like a madman, he began to tear at the rope belt that cinched the waist of my habit, seeming to vent all the anger he felt at injustice and constraint on the knots that fixed it tight. With a great flourish, he undid them and thrust the two loose ends to either side. He grasped both habit and tunic, and lifted them o’er my head. An open hand on my chest thrust me down onto my back. I looked up, imagining I would be witness still to the bared teeth of his unreasoning passion but that look was melting away as he gazed ‘pon my thin, white body. ‘Twas replaced by a look I can only describe as carnal compassion. The inner corners of his eyebrows pushed up in a plaintive expression. He gasped and fell to kissing my body. He kissed my chest and belly, my hips, the hollow of my hips beside my privy member, my stiffened rod itself, my hands, my neck, my cheeks, all the while running his own hands along my flanks, urging me on. ‘Twas all I could do to hold on to the turning world. I cried out, disorientated, and grasped sward in my fists, half begging the greenery to hold me fast, half begging to be fore’er uprooted.
I could not hold onto the Earth. I had to touch him. I clasped his sides, too, his sturdy ribcage pulsing with his deep breaths ‘gainst my palms. My fingers crept o’er his back and lit ‘pon his wounds. Brother Rufus drew in air sharply ‘twixt his teeth and raised himself ‘pon his elbows. I watched his face, entranced, as my fingers explored the raised flesh and two days’ old blood, drinking in ev’ry wince, ev’ry quiver, as I passed o’er one raw spot after another. A tear emerged from the corner of one squeezed-shut eye and plashed ‘pon my chest; feeling sprung from the exquisiteness of pain merged with the joy of having the visible marks of one’s pain acknowledged by another. He smiled and looked at me with eyes that spake, Dost thou see me? Dost thou know me? as more tears fell. I nodded, returning his smile and my hands moved up into the rusty mane of his hair. He dropped his face into the crook of my shoulder. We two writhed ‘gainst each other then, just sliding flesh ‘gainst flesh, bellies pushing into one another, rods battling ‘twixt our thighs. And suddenly, his arms encircled me utterly and he had turned me onto my front. He meant to make a woman of me.
I yelled, unsure I could bear what he meant to visit ‘pon me. A hand clamped over my mouth and he was at mine ear then, as he arched o’er me, uttering pleas and words of reassurance. “Hush now, Gregory, my Gregory, hush. I prithee…” His voice sounded thick and smoky, unlike it had e’er been afore. I sank my face ‘gainst his hand by which signal he knew I would succumb to his request. I must have this terrible thing…
His hands moved down my back to my behind. I felt fingers clasp then part my buttocks, exposing that vile and tender place to the evening air. O shame, shame! I knew he looked at it, and I wanted to run away and hide, and I wanted nothing more than to lie face down amidst the wet weeds, helpless and ashamed.
I did hark him spit, felt a damp hand run up and down the split in my behind. ‘Twould not be enough, I knew e’en then afore I became master of this depraved act, to make the entry of his rod gentle. A hard lump pressed ‘gainst my nether hole like a baby’s fist thumping ‘gainst my side. It did not seem possible it might pass into me. It pushed some more and I harked Brother Rufus muttering as he twisted and adjusted his awkward position. I stared into the undergrowth. I knew I must let go, give up my body to the demand for entry the way I gave up my soul for the Lord to enter. No tension, no resistance; let joy fill thee. I gave in, went limp on the grass.
Brother Rufus seized his advantage and penetrated. I felt a molten, golden sword push deep into my being, as if trying to rout something living inside me. I arched my back and cried out, fingers clawing at the mossy earth, fetching up great clumps of it. ‘Twas all I could feel, the pounding of his rod, white pain bleeding to gold, as a part of my body that had seemed a wall became a window. Mine own member must also have risen but I felt it not, all mine attention focused on his burning rod. He could not, would not, stop now, I knew, though all the brethren of the abbey sought to drag him from me. He fucked me with a crazed demanding, grunting with ev’ry thrust.
Slowly, I became aware of more: the slap of his hips ‘gainst my buttocks; the ends of his fingers digging into my flesh like talons, holding me in place. He moved forward, covering my cold back with his warm belly. His breath was at mine ear, his lips sliding ‘gainst it and his hands came down o’er my shoulders to brace himself ‘gainst th’earth as he did. Our voices ran together, simultaneously harmonious and disharmonious, like the passionate confluence of two rivers. To think that sweet Brother Rufus of the white skin and gentle smile was fornicating with me now like some mad dog or devil…! ‘Twas unconscionable and ‘twas happening.
Just when I thought I could endure the burning pain in my nether hole no longer, Brother Gregory began to whimper high in his throat and his hips to vibrate more than thrust. I knew what was to come, I had felt it mine own self and recognition pulled a smile from my quivering mouth. I bit my bottom lip and reached ‘neath myself to pull on mine own swollen member. Within moments, my crisis was ‘pon me. My seed squirted onto the bracken but this peak seemed inconsequential beside Brother Gregory’s volcanic climax that swept both of us away. The young monk’s pained cries rang in mine ear - his muscular body clamped o’er mine and squeezed - his rod shot a torrent of heat deep into the secret places of my body. I wept to be the receptacle for such joy.
So there we lay, naked as heathens in this holy green place as night came down like a blanket, hiding us from the condemnation of the world. Still, our bodies rocked together though now we moved from side to side as we cradled and comforted one another.
Vale of Tears
Chapter Six - Things Near
Two days afore, he had kissed my hand. I had slipped into th’infirmary under the pretence of ministering to those old stagers who lived there now, Brothers James and Owen. Brother James, unable to speak, unable to rise from his bed any longer, had stared at me with rheumy eyes as I read from the gospels. Brother Owen, possessed of a demon who made him dance and laugh when e’er he was awake, had perpetually interrupted me with outpourings of, “Hey nonny nonny” and “There was a wench who once I loved”. All the while, I glanced sideways to where Brother Rufus lay.
Brother Jocelyn had him on his belly whilst he rubbed Friar’s Balsam into his back to shield his wounds from malign influence. The hard line of th’infirmarian’s mouth spake that he took no pleasure in punishment’s spectacle. Brother Rufus’ back was a red oblong with feath’ry sides. Slashes of deeper red appeared hither and thither, darkening now to brown. As I had passed, he had grabbed my hand and kissed it without looking up. My thoughts captured the sensation and cycled it o’er and o’er, till this nothing point on the back of my hand burned like holy fire.
Later that day, he lay prone for me again, abject as a kicked dog, beside the silently weeping form of Brother Aidan. The rest of us looked ahead and stepped o’er them both as we made our way into church for Vespers.
_________________________________________________________________________
The ducks were no longer hungry. ‘Twas twilight and they wished to retire from my presence, from the presence of the fool who stood beside the fishpond in the evening mist, absent-mindedly throwing stale bread into empty waters. They glared at me baleful as Gwyn ap Nudd’s hounds from the green and bronze bracken. I was lost in reverie, kissed ‘pon the hand so many times in dreams the glow had spread to my waking body. I lost the bone-stabbing cold of this hill-crowded valley, turned my back ‘pon the lowering presence of the abbey and pressed mine own lips to the spot. They felt like splinters of stone compared to the fulsome kisses of him.
A fox shrieked. ‘Twas far away, yet I seemed to smell its musk afore me. The diff’rence ‘twixt things far and things near began to shrink as the light failed. Real and not real, material and spirit, all merged in the twilight. I turned back to the abbey and saw an incubus approach. I lived amongst monks, was one myself, yet this brother in his unearthly white habit seemed foreign and frightening to me. Relentlessly he came, marching more like a soldier than processing as a monk ought. Once within ten yards, he threw back his cowl and I saw ‘twas, as I had known it must be, Brother Rufus. His mouth was trenchant, his eyes huge and swallowing. There was to be no denying him. Yet still I harked myself softly cry as he grabbed mine arms and forced me back into the bracken, “O my brother, ‘ware, ‘ware!”
The fox had made in a hollow nearby a secret place for himself to lie in the day. At the sight of us crashing toward him, he leapt to his four dainty feet and slunk off into the foothills of Eglwyseg Mountain.
He pushed me down in the dell. I smelled a thousand things at once - fox, the honeyed smell of bracken, the medicinal vapours of Friar’s Balsam, the heavy musk of his maleness freed as he pulled his woollen habit o’er his head. The linen tunic followed and then his nakedness was bearing down ‘pon me, white arms and white chest, mouth crashing hard ‘gainst mine own. ‘Twas not as it had been afore, tentative and clumsy. He had both his arms about me, a hand at the back of my head forcing me up to meet his lips. He was purposeful as any lover from tales of romance. I felt cossetted and devoured.
Something new moved ‘gainst my lips and I apprehended with a start ‘twas his tongue sliding o’er me, then pushing ‘twixt my lips to probe the treasures of my mouth. I cried out, cried into his mouth and I knew my entire being gave up all resistance then, and I lay quivering like a doe with a wolf’s mouth ‘pon its throat.
Brother Rufus sate back. Like a madman, he began to tear at the rope belt that cinched the waist of my habit, seeming to vent all the anger he felt at injustice and constraint on the knots that fixed it tight. With a great flourish, he undid them and thrust the two loose ends to either side. He grasped both habit and tunic, and lifted them o’er my head. An open hand on my chest thrust me down onto my back. I looked up, imagining I would be witness still to the bared teeth of his unreasoning passion but that look was melting away as he gazed ‘pon my thin, white body. ‘Twas replaced by a look I can only describe as carnal compassion. The inner corners of his eyebrows pushed up in a plaintive expression. He gasped and fell to kissing my body. He kissed my chest and belly, my hips, the hollow of my hips beside my privy member, my stiffened rod itself, my hands, my neck, my cheeks, all the while running his own hands along my flanks, urging me on. ‘Twas all I could do to hold on to the turning world. I cried out, disorientated, and grasped sward in my fists, half begging the greenery to hold me fast, half begging to be fore’er uprooted.
I could not hold onto the Earth. I had to touch him. I clasped his sides, too, his sturdy ribcage pulsing with his deep breaths ‘gainst my palms. My fingers crept o’er his back and lit ‘pon his wounds. Brother Rufus drew in air sharply ‘twixt his teeth and raised himself ‘pon his elbows. I watched his face, entranced, as my fingers explored the raised flesh and two days’ old blood, drinking in ev’ry wince, ev’ry quiver, as I passed o’er one raw spot after another. A tear emerged from the corner of one squeezed-shut eye and plashed ‘pon my chest; feeling sprung from the exquisiteness of pain merged with the joy of having the visible marks of one’s pain acknowledged by another. He smiled and looked at me with eyes that spake, Dost thou see me? Dost thou know me? as more tears fell. I nodded, returning his smile and my hands moved up into the rusty mane of his hair. He dropped his face into the crook of my shoulder. We two writhed ‘gainst each other then, just sliding flesh ‘gainst flesh, bellies pushing into one another, rods battling ‘twixt our thighs. And suddenly, his arms encircled me utterly and he had turned me onto my front. He meant to make a woman of me.
I yelled, unsure I could bear what he meant to visit ‘pon me. A hand clamped over my mouth and he was at mine ear then, as he arched o’er me, uttering pleas and words of reassurance. “Hush now, Gregory, my Gregory, hush. I prithee…” His voice sounded thick and smoky, unlike it had e’er been afore. I sank my face ‘gainst his hand by which signal he knew I would succumb to his request. I must have this terrible thing…
His hands moved down my back to my behind. I felt fingers clasp then part my buttocks, exposing that vile and tender place to the evening air. O shame, shame! I knew he looked at it, and I wanted to run away and hide, and I wanted nothing more than to lie face down amidst the wet weeds, helpless and ashamed.
I did hark him spit, felt a damp hand run up and down the split in my behind. ‘Twould not be enough, I knew e’en then afore I became master of this depraved act, to make the entry of his rod gentle. A hard lump pressed ‘gainst my nether hole like a baby’s fist thumping ‘gainst my side. It did not seem possible it might pass into me. It pushed some more and I harked Brother Rufus muttering as he twisted and adjusted his awkward position. I stared into the undergrowth. I knew I must let go, give up my body to the demand for entry the way I gave up my soul for the Lord to enter. No tension, no resistance; let joy fill thee. I gave in, went limp on the grass.
Brother Rufus seized his advantage and penetrated. I felt a molten, golden sword push deep into my being, as if trying to rout something living inside me. I arched my back and cried out, fingers clawing at the mossy earth, fetching up great clumps of it. ‘Twas all I could feel, the pounding of his rod, white pain bleeding to gold, as a part of my body that had seemed a wall became a window. Mine own member must also have risen but I felt it not, all mine attention focused on his burning rod. He could not, would not, stop now, I knew, though all the brethren of the abbey sought to drag him from me. He fucked me with a crazed demanding, grunting with ev’ry thrust.
Slowly, I became aware of more: the slap of his hips ‘gainst my buttocks; the ends of his fingers digging into my flesh like talons, holding me in place. He moved forward, covering my cold back with his warm belly. His breath was at mine ear, his lips sliding ‘gainst it and his hands came down o’er my shoulders to brace himself ‘gainst th’earth as he did. Our voices ran together, simultaneously harmonious and disharmonious, like the passionate confluence of two rivers. To think that sweet Brother Rufus of the white skin and gentle smile was fornicating with me now like some mad dog or devil…! ‘Twas unconscionable and ‘twas happening.
Just when I thought I could endure the burning pain in my nether hole no longer, Brother Gregory began to whimper high in his throat and his hips to vibrate more than thrust. I knew what was to come, I had felt it mine own self and recognition pulled a smile from my quivering mouth. I bit my bottom lip and reached ‘neath myself to pull on mine own swollen member. Within moments, my crisis was ‘pon me. My seed squirted onto the bracken but this peak seemed inconsequential beside Brother Gregory’s volcanic climax that swept both of us away. The young monk’s pained cries rang in mine ear - his muscular body clamped o’er mine and squeezed - his rod shot a torrent of heat deep into the secret places of my body. I wept to be the receptacle for such joy.
So there we lay, naked as heathens in this holy green place as night came down like a blanket, hiding us from the condemnation of the world. Still, our bodies rocked together though now we moved from side to side as we cradled and comforted one another.