My Sweet Degradation (21 page)

On this particular evening Red had been laying there, lazily dreaming of the ironmonger and how impressive his arm muscles looked as she'd watched him hammer out a new set of shoes for Snowflake, when she was startled out of her reverie by a sudden noise from outside. Her immediate reaction had been to fold her arms tight across her breasts so as to protect her modesty, but as she heard what sounded like an irritated whisper from beyond and beneath the kitchen window, she became aware of an all-too-familiar throbbing sensation between her thighs. Red shut her eyes and allowed her arms to slip back to her sides once more. She listened intently over her racing heartbeat, and again she heard the unmistakable sound of hushed male voices. Swallowing awkwardly through a constricted throat, Red called out – but only loud enough so that her peeping-Toms would be able to hear – ‘Yes, mother, but I just need to stand up and soap myself down,' and on shaky legs she lifted herself upright.

At first she faced away from the kitchen window, but she could see just enough of its reflection in the polished copper bottoms of the pots that hung from the stove. And soon enough the shape of two heads presented themselves, quickly joined by a third.

Red was absolutely horrified that she was being spied upon – quite neglecting to acknowledge her own hypocrisy – yet as she proceeded to lather her breasts, discovering just how tight her nipples had now swollen, and the way they tingled as her fingertips played across them, she could not deny that there was something intensely thrilling about the experience.

Slowly she began to turn around. Not wishing to scare her voyeurs away she made sure to avoid facing directly towards them, yet positioned herself in such a way that they would be able to see all that any red-blooded male could possibly desire. Red took great care over soaping her naked body, twisting first one way and then the other, her creamy-white flesh dripping wet and shiny in the warm glow of the candlelight, her nipples flushing an angry shade of scarlet from the heat of the water. She allowed a palm to slip down between her thighs, and she rubbed back and forth against the soft fur of her mound. Red gasped as a fingertip ran across the tiny bud of her clitoris, to discover just how it had swollen and how much it longed for caresses. She even considered sliding a finger inside, to seek illicit joy in the heat of her wetness, but just as she was wondering if she really dared there was an almighty crash from beyond the window. Instinctively she looked up with fright, just in time to catch the startled expressions of her brother, Josh, and two of his friends a moment before they ducked away to disappear into the night.

Back in her bedroom Red was utterly incensed that her own flesh and blood could permit others to watch her as she bathed, but at the same time a tiny flame had been ignited, and once she'd climbed beneath the sheets she couldn't help but allow her fingers to slide between her legs to play with her pussy until she arched her back and struggled to suppress the cries of her passion.

Early the following morning Red sneaked into Josh's room while he was out tending the goats, with the intention of placing a rotten egg beneath his bedclothes by way of revenge. Upon lifting his pillow away, however, she discovered a soft leather pouch containing a good ten pennies; way more money than Josh could ever have earned through honest labour alone, and she quickly realised that the enterprising little worm had been profiting through his sister's bath time performances and she was quite set to explode with rage.

She immediately stuffed the pouch into her pocket and strode purposefully from his room, but just then, upon reaching the top of the stairs, for some strange reason she stopped short. It certainly didn't bother her that Josh would be in trouble beyond his wildest dreams should she complain to her parents, but it was more that she knew just what a puritan her father could be, and that once informed he would no doubt only then ban her from bathing in the kitchen where there were windows to be peered through.

She considered confronting Josh directly and demanding the money for herself, but then there would be no more shows for her to put on, and if truth be known she had rather enjoyed it. So with her mind made up she counted out exactly half of the pennies and placed them in her pocket. She then returned to Josh's room and replaced the pouch where she'd found it. Of course her brother would be incandescent with fury when he discovered half of his ill-gotten-gains were missing, but he would be in no position to protest, and being the young entrepreneur that he clearly was, he would no doubt only be encouraged to set about earning yet more.

Neither Red nor Josh ever discussed their little business arrangement, but thereafter, every Sunday morning, Red would go to his room and help herself to half of the contents of his pouch; a sum which only grew with time and the notoriety of her displays.

You might have thought that her bath night performances would have been enough to settle her appetite for male attention, but in time this proved not to be the case and she took to teasing the farm boys without any hope of financial reward. On summer afternoons she would choose one lucky young man, and let slip how sticky-hot she was and how she couldn't wait to sneak off when father wasn't watching to enjoy a refreshing dip in the creek. Once there Red would strip naked and dive into the cool water knowing her young voyeur would be hiding behind a tree while she frolicked in the water or sunned herself on the rocks.

Once a year the travelling folk would come to the village for the horse fair, and in the hope of earning a little extra money they would move from farm to farm in search of casual labour. These men had a reputation for being fighters, drinkers and frequenters of whores, and most farmers would threaten to set the dogs on them if they so much as dared to step onto their land. But not so Red's father as he knew them to be strong men and hard grafters, and on good years he would take on a dozen or so to help out in the fields.

During the traveller's most recent visit, Little Red had awarded herself the task of taking out their lunchtime refreshment, telling her mother that it was only fair that they be treated like any other farm worker, but secretly, she only did so because she enjoyed the attention they would bestow upon her, not to mention the pleasure she would gain from seeing them stripped down to the waist and glistening with the sweat of their toil.

Most of the local girls were scared of the travellers as they looked quite different to the men of the village. Their hair was as black as pitch and they would grow it long and wear it tied back with fine ribbons. Their skin was the colour of cinnamon bark and many had strange symbols and patterns cut into their flesh. The old wives would say this proved them to be in league with the devil, but Red refused to listen to such scurrilous nonsense, and anyway, even if it was true it only excited her further to chance her luck with such dangerous men.

On one particularly hot day, Little Red went to the men damp with sweat and clutching a cloth-wrapped cheese and a newly baked loaf to her chest. The leader of the group, a particularly handsome man with sapphire-blue eyes, rippling chest muscles and brass rings in his ears, thanked her in an accent so thick Red thought he might have come from the moon, and went on to say that, as she looked in need of a drink, they would be honoured if she stayed for a while and shared a draft of their ale.

Red had immediately thought to say, ‘Thank you, no,' in the knowledge that her father disapproved highly of ladies who drank alcohol, but the beer looked ever so inviting, and as she watched one of the men pour it from a small oak barrel into enormous clay jugs, she found herself wetting her lips and offering an accidental, ‘Yes please, that would be very nice,' instead.

In words she could make no sense of the leader quickly instructed one of his comrades to bring over a mug, and being the thirsty girl that she was, she immediately knocked back an enormous draught, only to then cough and spit it out through the shock of such a bitter taste. This caused the travellers to hoot with laughter and Red, thoroughly shamed, had half a mind to run away. But with a kind smile the leader held up his hand and told the men not to be so rude to their guest, before explaining that she must not gulp down ale in the same way she might enjoy her milk. He then went on to teach her to take small sips and to hold the liquid against the back of her mouth rather than at the front, and soon enough Little Red was drinking down the beer as though she had done so for years.

Before she reached the bottom her mug was refilled, and while they ate and drank together the men regaled Red with tales of their homeland. Red's mug was filled a third time, and as one particularly jolly fellow danced a side-splittingly funny jig, she noticed just how wonderfully fuzzy and fluffy the world now appeared. She told the men all about their reputation within the village, and they just laughed and agreed that it was probably quite fair. But she didn't think so at all; she thought them to be fine gentlemen for sharing their refreshments with her, and she gladly accepted another fill of the ale.

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.