My Sweet Degradation (23 page)

That night Red dreamt of a great wolf stalking through the farmyard, its wet nose sniffing at the ground as it searched for fresh meat. She instinctively knew it was her it was hunting, and as it raised its shaggy mane and offered a howl to the moon she suddenly awoke, heart racing and drenched in sweat, to hear what she could swear was the last of a beastly cry echoing down across the valley floor.

 

That following Sunday, like every Sunday, Little Red and her family pulled on their finest clothes and headed up to the church. In Red's case this meant she was wearing a beautiful white linen dress embroidered, by her own fair hand, with pretty spring flowers. She loved that dress dearly, but it really was far too small for her now, and as she respectfully sang the chosen hymns she found herself in grave danger of bursting out of it every time she took a breath, thus very nearly offering the congregation a practical lesson in the sins of the flesh.

The vicar's sermon was as mind-numbingly boring as usual, and in order to entertain herself Red took to crossing and uncrossing her legs in front of the altar boys, giggling to herself as she watched them fail in their duties because of their staring.

Once the service was over Red couldn't wait to get back to the farm to tuck into lunch, but her mother quickly poured cold water on that particular plan by telling her that she had just received word that grandmother had been taken ill and that Red was now charged with the task of taking a basket of provisions to her cottage. Little Red moaned and complained bitterly, but her mother scolded her for being such a selfish girl, yet went on to assure her that there would be an extra large portion of pudding set aside for her return.

Back at the farm Red was about to go change into something more comfortable for the journey when mother told her just how pretty she looked in her Sunday best, and that it would warm granny's heart no end to see her favourite grandchild so well turned out. Handing her a basket of goodies she instructed her to pick a bunch of wild flowers along the road, and with a quick peck on the cheek she sent her on her way.

But just as Red scuffed her feet up the dusty path her mother called out to her once more. ‘Oh, and don't you be taking any shortcuts through the forest, young lady, you hear? You keep by the road!'

Now, on this particular Sunday there was not a cloud to be seen in the sky, the sun beat down without remorse, and it wasn't long before Red felt the first beads of sweat gather in the shadow between her breasts. To make matters worse, she had foolishly pulled on a particularly itchy pair of drawers that morning, and through the heat of the day they began to chafe her delicate thighs. Soon she couldn't take it any more, and with an exasperated squeal and a stomp of her foot she stopped still and dropped the basket to the ground. She looked first up the road and then back down the way she had come, and seeing there was not a soul in sight, she quickly slipped off her underwear and stuffed them into the basket. The sense of relief as she continued on her way was monumental, and she found herself rather enjoying the sensation of what little breeze there was as it teased its way beneath her rather short dress.

Half a mile or so further on Red found herself at a point in the road where it met with the southernmost tip of the forest. It wasn't far off midday now, and the sun had climbed almost directly above her. She gave the trees a sideways glance as her mother's warning words came back to her, and with a sigh she stomped ever onwards. Red knew well that the road swept east all the way around the edge of the forest, and that with granny living on the most north-westerly point she would be adding a good half-hour, at least, to her journey by following its course. Again she took a look to the left, and could see how wonderfully shaded it looked beneath the pines and the birches as their branches spread out above the forest floor. Yet even then she remained mindful of her mother's instruction, and kicking at a loose stone she forged on.

The sun was excruciatingly hot now and poor Red mopped her sweat-slick forehead with her forearm. She was starting to feel rather hungry too, and dearly wished she'd brought along something to eat. There were granny's provisions, of course, but the poor old dear was ill and it would have been quite wrong of her to help herself to them. And so, finally deciding that desperate times called for desperate measures, she looked quickly up and down the road once more before she quickly ducked away and climbed beneath the wonderful shelter of the trees.

She had to backtrack just a little across the soft, needle-strewn ground, but she found the path quickly enough and it wasn't long before she was so deep within the forest that the dusty road and the baking sun were no longer in her thoughts.

It was certainly dark beneath the boughs of the trees, and Red considered that a person of a nervous disposition might well be feeling a little scared right about now, but she reminded herself that she was a brave girl and pushed on without regret.

A short while later the path opened out onto a clearing carpeted with cornflower, poppy, daisy and flax. Red thought it to be just about the most enchanting place she had ever seen, and heeding her mother's words, if only this once, she quickly set about picking a huge bunch of flowers for her grandmother. She picked and she picked, congratulating herself on being so clever as to find such a place, bending low from the waist and neglecting to consider that she was wearing such a short dress, and with a bare behind too! But why on earth should she care, as she was so clearly alone?

‘Well, that's a pretty little posy, I must say,' came a deep, rumbling voice from behind her, and poor Red nearly jumped out of her skin with fright. She immediately stood upright and spun round to see a man sat right behind her, with his enormous back set against an old oak tree. He was casually whittling away at a piece of wood with a pointed blade, and she just stared, absolutely certain that he hadn't been there a moment before. Even though he was sitting the man looked like a giant to Little Red, and she noticed that, despite the heat of the day, he was wrapped in a wolf skin cloak. She looked closer still and saw that his hair was grey-black in colour, and that his cheeks and jaw were heavily stubbled, but for three diagonal lines scored deep into his flesh. She stared into his milky-blue eyes and swallowed awkwardly as she realised exactly who this stranger must be.

‘So what brings a pretty little thing like you into the forest, where a big bad wolf could come and gobble you all up?' the man mocked with a wry smile, his knife continuing to slice long, curling shavings from the wood as though it was no harder than a stick of butter.

‘Um, I'm going to my granny's house,' Red replied meekly, suddenly aware of just how little she was wearing, and she dipped her head and pulled her dress tight against her naked thighs.

‘Well the forest's a dangerous place for a beautiful young lady to be walking. Just you make sure you stick to the path,' he advised.

‘Are those flowers for granny?' he asked, to which Red anxiously nibbled her lower lip and nodded her head in response. ‘What a kind young lady you are. Your granny is very lucky indeed to have a caring granddaughter such as you.' His voice was as smooth and as seductive as honeycomb drenched in cream. ‘But please,' he continued, ‘it was rude of me to stop you while you're at work. Do continue.'

Red looked down at the bunch of flowers she clutched to her breasts like a bride on her wedding day. ‘I... I think I'm done now,' she offered, in a voice barely more than a whisper.

‘Oh, come now, Little Red, I'm sure you love your granny very much and would want her to have a particularly wonderful gift. Look just in front of you, there's a flush of larkspur that would look quite enchanting in amongst that posy.'

Red furrowed her brow. ‘H-how do you know my name?' she asked nervously.

‘I know many things, Little Red, but you shouldn't be surprised. I've travelled far and I've travelled wide, and have often heard talk of a beautiful young woman with hair as rich as an autumn sunset, with features as smooth and as delicate as a song bird's egg...' he paused to slowly run his eyes over her body, in a way that caused her to release an involuntary shiver despite the heat of the day, ‘...and with a form more comely than any maid within three counties. And you know what? No matter how far or how wide I wander, there is only ever one name attached to this creature of legend. They call her...' he said, offering a dramatic pause, ‘Little Red.

‘But perhaps I am wrong,' he continued, in a much more casual tone, ‘and you are not the young lady I have heard spoken of?'

Red, utterly consumed by pride, suddenly blurted, ‘No, I mean yes, I mean that's me, yes, my name
is
Little Red.'

‘Of course you are and of course it is,' the man replied with a smile. ‘And do you know what they call me?'

Red dipped her head once more, hardly daring to reply. ‘Are... are you the Wolf?' she said, to which the man guffawed loudly, causing a brace of wood pigeon to suddenly take flight and for poor Red to jump once more. But he just offered her a gentle bow of his head and said that she was quite right, and it was a pleasure to make her acquaintance.

‘Now,' he said after a slight pause, ‘about that larkspur...'

Red looked down at the tiny blue flowers at her feet. The Wolf was quite right, they would look very pretty in granny's posy, but in that dress she was not at all sure she could pick them without compromising her modesty rather severely. ‘I think I have enough flowers now, sir,' she said, but the man's expression suddenly darkened and she felt chilled as though a thunder cloud had passed over the sun.

‘Go ahead and pick them,' he instructed softly.

‘But...'

‘Pick them,' he said again, only this time in a tone accompanied by a strange, guttural growl. Slowly Red began to squat down onto her haunches. ‘No, not like that,' he said. ‘Pick them just as you were doing before.' And in the full knowledge that she would expose herself so badly if she obeyed, yet not daring to discover what he might do to her if she didn't, she turned to face away and proceeded to bend from the waist.

Poor Little Red's heart raced as she felt the hem of her tiny dress begin to ride up her smooth thighs. The larkspur grew on a slight slope that fell away before her, and try as she might there was no way on earth that she could reach down to them without the need to bend even lower still. Red blushed to the sensation of the soft linen pulled tight against the swell of her hips, and she gasped as it suddenly slid up further to reveal the curve of her peachy round bottom. She knew she was fully exposed now, that her pussy was his to observe, nestled as it was between her thighs, and her chest heaved as she began to quickly pull at the flowers while waiting for the Wolf to make his next move.

A moment passed in silence, however, followed by another and then another until finally she drew enough courage to straighten up and to turn around once more – to discover herself to be all alone!

She looked left and she looked right in search of the brute of a man who had forced her to reveal herself so intimately, yet he was nowhere to be seen. She took just a second to catch her breath, before picking up her basket and thrusting her newly picked flowers inside and scurrying out of the clearing without daring to look back.

As she continued on her way she dwelled on her meeting with the Wolf. Part of her felt she must have been a very lucky young lady indeed, to have gotten away so lightly, but part of her felt rather affronted that he hadn't seemed to want her in the same way other men so obviously did. She thought about what he must have been able to see as she bent low to pick the flowers, and wondered why he hadn't tried to take advantage of her. After all, it couldn't be every day that a girl as pretty as she was found wandering alone in the forest.

The more Red thought about it the more confused she became. The Wolf had indicated himself how pretty she was, and she knew just how much the boys liked to look at her naked body, so why hadn't he wanted her too? She stomped along the path, staring at the ground and feeling her disquiet growing with every step she took.

It was the smell that first caused her to look up and take stock of her surroundings. Red had quite forgotten about her hunger, but that wonderful aroma of simmering vegetables, wild herbs and possibly even a little meat drifting through the trees brought it back to her with a vengeance. With rumbling stomach she looked one way and then the other, until she spotted a tiny wisp of blue-grey smoke drifting up through the trees, and immediately she set off towards it. It was not easy going, away from the path, and she stumbled against tangled roots and sharp brambles as she made her way onward. She pushed further and further on, avoiding stinging nettles as best she could, until finally she staggered into a small clearing where she discovered the origin of that enchanting smell.

An old iron pot hung from a chain attached to a wooden tripod above a crackling camp fire, and bubbling away within it was what Red thought to be the most wonderfully fragrant stew she had ever seen.

‘Hello?' she called. ‘Is anyone here?' She turned through every point of the compass, calling out a greeting each time, yet no reply came. Still her stomach rumbled and she offered a tiny prayer that the owner of the wonderful food was close by, and that he or she might be willing to share a little of it with her. Leaning over the pot she stirred with the wooden ladle standing in it. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, identifying wild garlic, sorrel, potatoes and yes, even a little game. Poor Red's belly ached and she called out once more, but again there was no reply.