1 comments/ 27962 views/ 3 favorites Wood Spirit Ch. 02 By: Keelywrites September 15, 1754 The sun had risen two hours ago, and I have been slothful. I have not weeded my garden patch, I have not set the water to boiling for laundry, I have not gone in to the forest to harvest any of the late berries there, nor ground the corn that I left to dry from the garden. I have not even milked the one lone goat we own. I have not left the cabin for fear of what might be in the forest even though I can hear the nanny crying for me to release the pressure in her udders. I sit now trembling as I write this, remembering how I was woken before the sun rose to the sound of the wood on the outside wall of the house being scratched - by what sounded like great claws. I imagined that whatever animal was out there had come to seek vengeance for the animals Father had killed - an imagining I am certain had to do with Oconowoc telling me through hand gestures and drawings with a stick in the dirt would be the result if we did not give proper respect to the spirits before we skinned them. Still, I must find my courage and leave the house to inspect the damage and go about my chores if I am to have milk for my breakfast. I found my courage soon after writing the last entry, and refused to examine the spot in the log wall outside where I had heard the terrible rending sound of the wood. I completed my chores and managed to even cast a net in to the river nearby for fish to my supper. It was at the river that I felt the hairs beneath my bonnet tingle as my skin had been doing all day when I went about my chores. It felt as if someone were watching me throughout the morning. At the river, I had almost fallen in to the water in my haste to catch one of Oconowoc's tribe spying on me from the trees surrounding me - but found no one. I returned home to the modest one room cabin, half expecting to find Father had returned, the smoke from our chimney acting as his beacon, but instead found the nanny, placidly munching on grass near the door. Having a few moments of time, I leave the cabin door open and sit on the long wooden bench outside of it to enjoy the cool air before the afternoon sun bears down through the trees again. I bring the pole beans with me, snapping off the ends and tossing them to the nanny as I prepare them for my supper. Once this task was completed, I broke off the fruit of the dried corn and ground them up as Kaukesha had taught me for my bread. It is arduous work, but the silent companionship of the nanny and the crackle of the fire in the hearth behind me provide me with a gentle solace which aids me in my work and helps my mind to wander free of the tasks. I think to myself on the strange happenings that morning, the sound of the wood opposite my bed being scratched and wonder how the animal did not break through the oiled hide over the lone window. Knowledge of what had been seeking entry to my cabin finally beckons me to the side of the house, where a startled gasp escapes me to find Oconowoc, Kaukesha and their younger brother excitedly examining the very spot I intended on studying. When they see me, they point at the spot on the cabin, where I spy my bonnet, hanging from the wood by a huge splinter of pine which dripped sap onto the strings. Beside it, there is a strange root, crucified onto the log with another thick splinter. Confused by the Indians and their excited gestures and speech, I shrug to myself and slip the strings of my bonnet free of the wood, frowning at the dried sap on the crown of it as Kaukesha gestures to the root. "Did you put it here?" I ask, knowing that they cannot understand me. "Did someone from your tribe find my bonnet and return it to me? Was it your father?" Kaukesha gestures at the root again, her hand movements telling me to pull it free, that I am meant to eat it. Pulling together my brows and bracing a foot against the lowest log of the cabin, I manage to wrest it free, giving her a shrug before I drop it in to my apron pocket. The three of them are excited by the bonnet and root, they follow me back to the river, still talking excitedly in that musical language as I pull in my net to find no fish for my efforts. Sighing, I put the net back in to the water, tying off the rope to a sturdy rock nearby and hope that I will have fish to my breakfast tomorrow morning. Tired now, I have no patience for Kaukesha as she unties the strings of my bonnet, ushering me to sit on the bench Father constructed beside our door, but I manage to swallow my irrational anger in preference for human company, and allow her to comb my hair with her fingers again until the sun begins to set. Wood Spirit Ch. 03 September 16, 1754 It is not yet dawn. I am not certain what time it is, or if it is even the next day. I do know that I must relate what has happened to me this night for fear of going mad. I was so soothed by Kaukesha's hands in my hair after they had left, I barely managed to get the nanny into the lean to beside the cabin before I laid my head down on the table - thinking to rest for only a moment before I had my supper and closed the cabin for the night. I was awoke from my slumber by my rumbling stomach sometime in the night, to find that the fire had gone out beneath my stew pot. Frustrated and unable to see to stoke what embers might still be burning, I managed to shut and secure the cabin door. Stomach loudly protesting, I felt the heavy lump of the root in my apron, and pulling it out, I brushed it free of the bits of lint which might have stuck to it, and took a bite to ease the growling in my belly. The root explodes in a sweet taste in my mouth as I grind my teeth down on it. The texture is similar to the finest pastry I ever had, and I am ashamed to admit I gobbled the rest of it down greedily. It filled my belly and because of that, I once more grew sleepy, so sleepy I barely made it to my low trundle bed in the corner of the cabin. I dreamed of strange things when I slept. I dreamt of Monsieur Lerreaux, the wealthy planter who had all his wife's shoes made by my father. How he had asked my father for my hand in marriage after his wife had died. I dreamed of Oconowoc's father Nawkaw, how he had found me gathering berries in the further end of the forest earlier in the summer. I remember the look in his eyes when he saw me on the edge of the clearing, how he had pulled my bonnet off of my head, his eyes growing darker when he saw my hair. The color of the berries as they rolled free of the basket, the sounds of my frightened cries when he dragged me up against his body and smashed his mouth on mine. His kiss tasting of wild strawberries. His deft fingers, slipping under my skirts and poking me between the thighs. The feel of the calluses on the tips of his fingers before he dragged me to the darker shadows of the forest. The feel of his hands, rough and excited as he lifted my skirts, brought my knee up to his narrow waist and pinned me against the tree. The feel of his member as it slapped eagerly against my thigh before he maneuvered his hips and stabbed it deep inside me, his mouth eating my cry of pain before he began to move against me, gobbling up my whimpers even as the pain changed to passion, the feel of his manhood deep inside me, stretching me to accommodate him. In my dreams, I understood the words he muttered into the bend of my neck as he pushed me against the trunk of one of the pines. He called me his wife. He said I was his mate, and that through our union the tribe would be given gifts from the Mother, and then he took my maidenhead - he had taken what Monsieur Lerreaux had wanted. I understood that it was the spirit of the forest which drove him to do this deed, that the spirit was excited by my hair, by my skin. I was unlike anything it had seen - and it had waited long to be joined to me. I remembered my tears as they stained the dry earth beneath the dried pine needles. I dreamed of the forest watching us as he shouted out in pleasure, the red of my maidenhead mingling with his seed and dripping down my leg to the soft earth below us. I dreamed of the culmination of our joining and how he had stumbled away from me, shaking his head as if to clear it while I dropped to my knees and buried my face in my hands in shame. The feel of my shoulders as they shook with sobs and Nawkaw's anguished voice when he realized what he had done - what he would be driven to do again. I woke slowly, feeling the phantom fingers of my memory pressing in to my thighs, the memory of the pine branches far above my head mixing in with the reality of my chemise being pulled up my body as fingers tightened their hold on my thighs and spread me wide. To my shame, I felt the cool air of the evening that slipped past the oiled hide on my moist nether lips before the warmth of a breath touched them. I shuddered a sigh as my body relaxed, lost in the memory of Nawkaw's rough lovemaking as he took me again and again in the woods until night fell and the sun rose once more. I felt lips scented with strawberries touch mine, hands stroking my breasts as insistent as the ones which now stroked my wet flower. I felt myself lifted, arms hanging loosely to the sides and outward as my shift was ripped down the center by those hands, exposing my body to the darkness of the cabin. My wife. My mate. It was whispered within my head and without, the deep throbbing bass of the voices making my skin prickle in pleasure as it washed over and through me. Suspended above my meager cot, I opened my eyes to the low ceiling of the cabin, finding myself so close to it that I could reach out and touch it, smell the pine shingles and the drops of sap that had frozen in place like icicles. Slowly, I felt the hands squeeze my breasts even as the ones beneath me held me aloft, legs and arms spread wide like a sacrifice on an altar. Mouths replaced the hands on my breasts, one latching on to each nipple, suckling them insistently until they rose into hard peaks and made me cry out in pleasure, my eyes flying open in surprise as I felt my womb deep within me tighten and clench. Awake and heavy with spent passion, I rolled my head to the side, my hair weighing my head backward so my neck was a long line. I needed to see my lover's face - to see the man that wrought such pleasure upon me, to beg him to fill me once more. Suspended above my bed in the moonlight which lighted the oiled hide to a strange yellow glow, I saw the long rough wood table in the center of the room, my father's large bed against the far wall, the neatly folded stack of laundry beside it in a basket, my stew pot hanging above the hearth - a myriad of the items which consisted of my life here in the wilderness, but no other being present. Disbelief coursed through me, and I felt my stomach grow tight at the thought of a ghost assaulting me in such an intimate manner, and I began to struggle against the hands that held me aloft, against the mouths that were wreaking such havoc on my breasts. The phantom hands tightened their hold on me, pushed my thighs apart even as I sought to close them. My wife. My mate. The words echoed in my head as a mouth latched onto the bud of my womanhood, suckling it as insistently as the mouths on my nipples. I gave a cry of pleasure mingled with horror and lifted my head to look down my pale body in the moonlight. My nipples were pronounced, puckered and excited. Even though there were no mouths to be seen, they stretched and narrowed, as if someone were indeed kneading them with their lips, eliciting my body's response. Dimples were in the soft skin of my sides, along my ribs, as if the hands that clenched and lifted me were truly present, though I could not see them. The hair on my mound parted and shifted by an unseen mouth as it suckled my bud of pleasure, and even as I watched, I felt hands behind my slender thighs, pushing them upward until my knees scraped the ceiling. Eyes wide in fright at what was happening to me, I watched as the tender insides of my thighs dimpled, showing four distinct prints as the hands locked me in place so a long tongue could jab into the center of me. "No!" I cried out, hating myself for enjoying what was happening, hating myself for enjoying what Nawkaw had done, hating that small part of myself that hoped Nawkaw would repeat it before my father returned. Yes. The response was short, but the unseen being's breath tickled along the mounds of my breasts, making the mouths suckle harder, making my spine bow in pleasure as my womb tightened and then released my pleasure, exploding down my limbs in lightening flashes, leaving my weak and sated. Lolling my head to the side, I stared sightlessly at my hearth and the black pot over it as the phantom pushed my thighs higher, the rough scrape of the wood shingles skinning my knees. Pressure from the fingers on the insides of my thighs pushed them open further as the suckling continued on my hardened bud. Unable to stop myself from looking down my body at the obscenities being worked upon my treacherous body, I watched in fascination as the silken hair of my mound was moved, smoothed to either side of my nether lips to ease access for the insistent phantom mouth that worked upon me, eager for me to release more of my pleasure. Unseen hands massaged my breasts, encouraging the nipples to sharper peaks for the suckling spirit mouths and I watched in horror and shock as my skin rippled beneath the pressure of the ghostly hands. Finding my willpower once more, I began to struggle again, only to have my thighs forced wide, the grip on them tighten as the hands holding me aloft increased their pressure. "No!" I cried again, terrified beyond reasoning as I felt the familiar slap of an erect male sex against my thigh - indeed, even saw the trail of juice it left shimmering in the twilight against my skin. I claim you again as my wife. My mate. My fire haired lover. Captive for my pleasures. Lips trembling and uncertain I did not still dream, I renewed my struggles, only to feel hands like iron bands around my wrists, stretching my arms out to my sides and holding them there in the air as the invisible male length pressed harder against my thigh. Longer and thicker then Nawkaw's had been, I could only imagine the pain that would accompany this first joining. The thought made my head light with terror. I squeezed my eyes shut, let my head fall back on my neck to avoid the ghastly sight, but my head was pushed upright and I was left no choice but to watch my ravishment by the unseen phantom. The line of the unseen sex was thick against the tender skin of my thigh as the being pushed it against the silken flesh, rubbing it up and down, causing me to gasp in frightened breaths at the girth and length. "Nooooo..." I mewled out in a whisper as I felt it prodding at my opening, felt the immense tip push against my womanhood until it popped just inside of my channel. I breathed out a sigh as it gained entry, unaware I had been holding my breath until it pushed deeper, and deeper, stretching my channel wide to receive it's massive girth until I was gasping again in fear at being torn asunder. When it had reached the end of me, it stopped, and I felt the hand behind my head move away, leaving me suspended in the air, arms still stretched as wide as my knees. A sigh brushed my breasts and the mouths began sucking harder, mixing pain with pleasure as the shaft began to move, pulling outward slowly, ever so slowly until I cried out as it pulled free of me. Rough hands twisted in my hair, pushing my head up again - as if the phantom wanted me to watch my rape. My wife. My cunt. My slave. I knew the words and yet did not know them. It whispered them in my head over and over as it thrust the massive tip inside me again and began to brutalize my channel in earnest with long, hard strokes, making me squirm and wiggle under it's onslaught as it stretched me wide before withdrawing - again and again. It felt as if it was churning my insides - the push-pull-push-pull of the massive member pushed my channel wide to receive it, only to withdraw and allow my sheath to return to it's narrow size before repeating the maneuver again and again. Give me your nectar. I ground my teeth against the rising pleasure I felt building within me. Push-pull-push-pull. I could not help the rising cry of passion that built in my throat any more then I could prevent my rape. Give me your essence. Feed my children your juices. The shaft found the end of me, thrusting upward in one hard movement, lodging itself against the end of my channel and pressing the thick head against it, making me give a shriek of pleasure as I gave up the fight with my body. My womb. My cunt. The phantom released it's juices against the opening of my womb, the twitching and throbbing of the thick shaft within me making me release again and again. I never wanted the pleasurable torture to stop in that moment - I never wanted to know anything beyond the passion that exploded through me over and over, leaving me breathless and hoarse from my cries. Ahhhhh. Yes, feed my children my wife. Give them our nectar to feed them. Still the spirit pumped it's seed in me, filling me so full of it, and being so tightly locked inside of me by it's girth that I felt as if my belly would swell from the pressure. Limbs limp and body still throbbing, I felt the length of the shaft slowly dwindle, until it slipped it's sex free of mine, letting my fluids which mingled with its phantom seed begin to drip down to my bed below. The first drop had barely reached the bedclothes before the mouths moved from my breasts and latched on to my sex, greedily milking my womanhood of it's spent pleasure. Even as I felt myself being slowly lowered to the bed, the mouths still suckled at me, eliciting small tremors in my body and making me quiver softly through more pleasurable releases until I finally fell asleep. I woke in the darkness once more and hurriedly found my journal to record these events. I know not what it means. I am lustful in my heart still for Nawkaw? Have the spirits of the animals Father killed returned to punish me? Am I being haunted by demons because I was not a good catholic in my heart when I opened my legs eagerly for Nawkaw after he had initially raped me? Wood Spirit Ch. 04 September 18, 1754 I have long neglected my journal, but the fault lies not only with me. I had woken at the long table in the cabin after recording my last entry by my hips being gripped and lifted from the bench. I tried to turn and see my assaulter as a large hand on my back pressed me down over the table, but found no one other then myself visible in the morning light of the cabin. Tears trembled in my eyes as the remainder of my shift was pulled free of me, and I struggled against the ghostly hands, only to have my wrists gripped and dragged across the rough wood table. Before I could think to struggle or cry out, similar ones gripped my ankles and pulled my legs wide, leaving me exposed to the curious morning light that managed to leak through the edges of the oiled hide tacked to the window. I whimpered, I begged and pleaded, but to no avail. My wife. My chalice to fill with seed. Our joining which will bring gifts to the tribes. Large hands, rough and invisible lifted my waist as the ones on my wrists and ankles gripped tighter, leaving me bowed in an arc over the wooden table my father had carved and where we had eaten so many of our meals. Tears of fright and confusion dripped down my cheeks to spot the wood as those treacherous lips fastened on my nipples again, and I hung my head in shame only to see the result of the mouth's attentions on my breasts. Stretched over the table, I watched in fascinated horror as the invisible mouths worked on the small mounds, suckling, suckling, pulling and kneading. A pressure against my thigh called my attention beyond my breasts which were being milked like I milked the nanny, and I watched as that long invisible sex pressed the skin of my thigh, making a long line of indentation against it before it prodded at my channel once more. My cunt. My slave. My wife. Open and receive my cock. Receive my seed. Feed our children so they can gather the gifts for my people. The voice echoed in my head again as the hands pulled tighter on my ankles and spread them so wide I felt my hips pop, making me gasp. The sound ended in a stifled cry as my teeth bit down on my lower lip and the shaft penetrated me once more. Not as gentle an entry as it had been last night, the phantom thrust past the tight opening to reach up inside of me until it hit my womb once more. Unable to help myself, I cried out in pleasure at being so filled and something thick and warm was forced in to my mouth, down in to my throat, silencing my cries. Suck wife. Suck on my cock. Lick and kiss it. Coax my nectar to fill your belly. Unable to do anything but follow the instructions my invisible ravager whispered in my head, I closed my eyes against the shimmering air before me, and let the being use my body as was it's wont, sawing me back and forth between each of it's sexes as it stroked me deep inside both openings, making me choke on the length in my mouth even as I wriggled my bottom for the thick length stretching my channel. Back and forth it rocked me as the hungry little mouths on my nipples pulled and suckled, my skin broke out in tingles and puckered all over as it used me - all the while whispering words in my head I knew were not meant for a young woman to hear beyond her marriage bed. Ahhhhhh yeeesss my wife. Make my seed fill your cunt. Take my seed deep within you, take your pleasure from your lover, your husband and master. I could not help my response, I could not help but gurgle a cry of pleasure as my body released and squeezed tight onto my ravager's length, making a guttural growl of pleasure from it echo through my head as my skin erupted in gooseflesh. Grip my cock with your tight cunt. Milk it for it's seed with your tiny cunny. I rocked myself back onto the length of what it called it's cock, ignoring the pull of the hands gripping my wrists as the length in my mouth followed me and an invisible hand gripped my hair, locking my lips around the invisible shaft as it twitched and spilled down my throat. Gurgling in pleasure as I fought to swallow the fluid that tasted the same as the root from last night, I felt my channel squeeze again and my invisible lover cried out into my head before releasing a torrent of fluid deep within my belly once more. Giving one more hard suck on the rapidly dwindling length in my mouth before he wrenched it free with a sigh, I let my mouth fall open in wordless joy as the cock buried in my channel continued to spit and spew it's seed. Even though my phantom lover was still in the midst of release, it continued to work it's heavy length in and out of me, making the nectar squish out from my tight sheath, squeezing around the tight seal our sexes made to drip down my thighs. The tiny mouths licking up the juices that dripped did not surprise me this time, instead - when one locked on to the hard nub of my sex and made my channel squeeze down again in release, I welcomed it. Gasping around the dryness in my throat, I felt my lover lift me in his many arms and place me like an offering on the table as his children cleaned me of his juice, coaxing more pleased sighs from my lips even as I felt him place invisible kisses on my face. My love. My wife. My chalice. The phantom hands stroked me awake when the sun was at it's zenith in the sky, and I let out a cry of dismay when I heard the nanny crying mournfully from the lean to. "Not yet." I whispered to the unseen entity. "I must do my chores." I said as I struggled to free myself from the many hands and mouths. "I need to milk the goat, let her eat." You have need of nothing but me and my children wife. The deep baritone whispered in my head. "Yes, I need to eat, I need to gather my net from the stream for fish to fry." I argued into the air, smoothing down my hair as I struggled from the table. "I have duties." Your duty is to be my mate. To heed my command and therefore gift the tribes with good fortune. "That is nonsense." I said aloud, digging for a shift in the pile of clothing. A gentle breeze blew along my back, and I glanced over my shoulder to find the cabin door had been opened. I strained my ears for some sign of human interference as I pulled the chemise over my shoulders, quickly tying up the ribbons that led from the throat to my abused mound. Frozen on the spot as my nanny came into view to be framed in the doorway as she placidly munched on the tender grass near the cabin, I felt my 'husband' stroke his large hands over my body, making the chemise move and cling to me where his long strong fingers strayed. I gasped as the pail which I used for milking the goat bobbed in the air, the milk from the nanny's swollen udders splashing over the sides as it was carried by an short, unseen being. My children will provide for you what I cannot. The entity whispered against the back of my neck, making my skin rise in frightened gooseflesh as the bucket was gently placed beside the hearth. They are pleased their father has taken a wife, a wife who will feed them her pleasure. Suddenly, I could feel them there, the largest presence being the one that pillaged my sex like a huge wall of heat at my back. "I need to eat." I whispered, my limbs frozen in fear at the many invisible beings that were crowded in and around my cabin, making me squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that they would never deem it necessary to appear in flesh before me. My hand was lifted, palm up - and a hard, heavy object was pressed in to it. I opened my eyes as the entity behind me lifted my chemise to gently stroke my tender sex to find a root similar to the one that had been tacked to the wall of the cabin in my hand. Eat wife. Eat so I may fill you full of my cocks again. I lifted the root with trembling hands as the nanny goat wandered from one patch of grass to the other outside my door. Brushing away the bits of earth that clung to the misshapen root, I bit down into it as the phantom wrapped one strong limb around my middle, holding me in place so a thick digit could stroke my folds. Somewhat dazed, I watched as the embers from the fire were stoked, the stew pot swung back over the fire, my torn chemise lifted and my sewing basket drifting to the table. All this activity being performed by unseen beings, ghosts, phantoms. They will care for you as you care for them. You are their mistress, and they serve you even as you serve me. You feed them and they shall feed you. You nurture and suckle them as a mother and they will care for you. All this activity, all my chores being performed by these spirits forced the thoughts of my father from my head, and as I trembled in my phantom lover's strong arms, I could only ask: "Why?" I am their master. I am their father. I bid them to love and serve you, my wife, my mate and they do so. Like the goat, I placidly chewed the root, feeling it begin to fill my belly as my abused sex began to leak fluid, slicking the entities fingers enough that they lightly skimmed and opened my nether lips. I sighed as it loosened it's grip on me, allowing me to lean against the wall of invisible heat at my back. "What do you want from me?" I took another bite from the root as the activity continued around me, my torn chemise being carefully stitched by deft, invisible fingers, the stew in the pot being stirred by another little phantom. I could feel their eyes on me, watching as the largest and strongest stroked my sex to a low need. You are my wife. I seek only to serve you and love you so you will serve and love me. "What if I say no?" I asked. You cannot refuse me. I am your master. I will take what you will not willingly give to your husband. Struck by a thought, I pull my dark red brows together in a frown. "Did you make Nawkaw take me in the forest?" I ask in a whisper. I watched you for a long time wife. I waited until I found a being worthy of taking your innocence. When I found a warrior who could feel my presence, I filled him with it so he could wed your flesh to me by spilling the blood of your innocence on my face so I could drink of it. I sigh again, eyes slowly sliding half shut as the being surrounded me with it's heat, letting me know how large and daunting it was by filling the tiny cabin with its presence, blocking out the cool air from the forest beyond the open cabin door. "Where do you come from?" I asked, lifting my chemise with one hand to allow it better access to my sex as I took another bite of the root. I have always been. I am the forest. "How do you know my language?" I persisted, wanting to know as much as possible about the entity that had used my body and caused me such delight. I hear humans as they walk through my domain, I learn to communicate to speak to my worshippers. "What is your name?" I whisper, feeling one of it's hands cup my mound, a digit slip between the slick folds of my sex to gently rub the hardening nub. I am called the Great Spirit by the humans now here. I have many names given to me by many humans. I sigh, giving myself up to my phantom lover's skillful hands as they play over my body, wondering how to escape from it if it is indeed the spirit of the forest - wondering if I even want to escape. Give me your nectar wife. Allow my children to feed upon the juice of your pleasure. Eyes half lidded, I feel the bonds of it's limb around my waist relax as my body does, leaving me hanging in the air as the strong unseen hand cupping my sex holds me up, like the seat of the bench. I feel a digit slip inside me. Smaller then the massive length the entity called it's cock, it suits my tiny channel better, causes no stretching or painful pleasure as it dips in and out of me. You grow wet my mate. This pleases you. "Yeeessss..." I hiss, letting the presence hold me aloft, leaving my feet to dangle off the floor as my chemise is hiked up higher by invisible hands until I am wearing it above my tiny breasts. Let my children feed. My thighs are gripped hard, spread wide open as I float in a sitting position above the floor, my feet dangling uselessly as a clatter of items being dropped in the cabin create a minor din in the air before the tiny mouths latch onto my sex and lick me of the juices my entity has coaxed from my body. "Ooooohhh..." I moan, heedless to my wanton position as the ribbons of my chemise are pulled and untied so it spills open, exposing my small breasts to the cool air streaming in from the forest beyond my opened door. My lover kneads my breasts in two of his big hands and I watch the indentations on the hard mounds as another dips a finger in and out of my sex, making it pout open and allowing the tiny mouths to lick it clean before plunging inside again to repeat the motion, over and over and over until the long muscles of my thighs tighten in anticipation. One more hard thrust with the rough digit sends me spiraling over the edge to cry out my release as I squeeze my eyes shut at the pleasure it has wrought on me. Suckling mouths latch tightly on to my sex, I can feel them fighting for position over my exposed womanhood and it is with morbid fascination that I watch the dimples of tiny fingers appear in the skin of my thighs, my nether lips being forced open as they greedily suck at my sex. I was slowly recovering from this onslaught when I felt the entity, my mate - push at the opening of my pouting sex, feeling the head of his thick member stroke the folds wet from the insistent mouths of his children. I look down and watch as the lips are stretched wide before they are smashed down by his girth, only to have it repeat the motion again. It is such a wicked sight that I gasp, my channel already clenching and unclenching in anticipation of the huge member forcing it's way inside my tender passage. The unfinished root falls from my hand to the floor as the being stretches my legs further apart, opening me as wide as possible for the entry of his massive shaft. I will fill you with my seed wife. I will fill you again and again and again. My cunt. My mate. I grind out a moan that abruptly stops when I spy a long shadow pass over the grass before the front of the cabin. Startled, I glance up to see Oconowoc and Kaukesha appear in the yard, pausing to pet the goat. Suddenly, I am ashamed of what I am allowing to happen, of what I am doing. I remember the gentle feel of Kaukesha's fingers in my hair, the rabbits Oconowoc brought for my supper when they learned of my father's long absence and I am ashamed. My people are here wife. We should allow them to worship you, my new mate. Taking advantage of the entity's distraction, I jump away from the invisible hands and cry out as I run toward the opened door of the cabin. Oconowoc and Kaukesha look up in fright at my shriek, but a guttural roar fills the cabin and shakes it as I run onto the sunlit grass. The nanny goat runs off in fright, letting out a bleat of shock as she trots away into the forest. I reach out to Kaukesha as Oconowoc's eyes grow wide at the sight of my nudity, and just as his sister instinctively grasps my outstretched hand, a loud voice erupts from the cabin behind me, making my two native friends shrink in fear. "No! No!" I cry out, tears springing to my eyes as I feel the entity speed toward me from the opened door. "Help me!" Both of them take a step back, away from me as the phantom utters a roaring word in their language. It makes Kaukesha stumble backward and fall in fear as Oconowoc's eyes go round in surprise. Sensing I will receive no help from them, I move to run past them, but it is too late. The entity grabs me around the middle and brings me flying backward into the cabin, slamming the door shut as soon as my flying body clears the threshold. I am flung carelessly against the cabin door, the impact making my head spin even as I am lifted away from it and into the air once more. My wife. My mate. My slave. My cunt. My body to use, fuck and fill. It roars in my head as it spins me around to face the empty cabin. "No! No! No!" I cry out, my hair flying loosely around my head as the being shreds the chemise from my body and lifts me screaming into the very position I escaped from. My cunt. My wife. My slave to fuck and fill. I am a rag doll, a plaything to be used for the entity's pleasure. The thought excites me, makes me scream in joy in my own head until I drown out the being's roar. Yes! I will fuck you wife! I will fill you! The words excite some primal part of me though I do not understand them in my head, my body knows what it is doing to me - this is what it calls fucking. Even when my thighs are thrust wide open, my back is slammed against the door, rocking it on it's hinges as the roaring phantom thrusts itself hard and high inside me, making me scream out, I cannot contain my wanton pleasure. This is my cunt to fill with cock. My cunt to seed deeply. My cunt which will feed my children. My body to fuck! My wife! It rocks me hard against the unyielding wood, making it groan and crack as the thick shaft pounds relentlessly in to me, again and again. Pleasure at being so roughly used courses through my limbs as it shouts in my head, deafening me so I cannot even hear my cries of pain and passion. My channel is being stretched wide again, only to snap back as it withdraws it's weapon. On and on it repeats the motions, lifting my hips to meet the thrusts, pulling me onto it's thick hard length again and again until my legs twitch and I scream out in pleasure once more. My tight cunt. My wife. My mate. It's thick shaft plunges deep within me, tapping at the entry to my womb and making a tingle of pain race through me, but I love it. I love what it is doing to me. I love the way my tunnel stretches wide for it's thick length, the way my legs flop uselessly on either side of it's strong invisible hands as they grip my thighs, leaving dents so deep that I know they will bruise. I love the way my body tightens, until I reach my peak screaming and clawing at the air and still it uses me, squishing noises filling the still air of the cabin as I leak it's seed and my fluids. I scream out again in pleasure as those mouths lock onto my sex, my thighs, to lick up the juices that have splashed out around the being's big length when it plunges it deep within me. Ahhhhh! "Ahhhh!" We cry out in unison as it fills me once more, making my womb throb as it's seed pummels the opening, forcing me to accept the copious fluids though my body cries out in protest. The massive organ twitches and jumps within me, bumping against my womb. Filling me, filling me so full I feel myself burst in pleasure again. Wood Spirit Ch. 05 September 20, 1754 I am barely allowed to rise from the bed any longer. When I wake, a root is pressed in to my hand and I am to eat it where I lay. The entity does not trust me any longer. It is keeping me captive and God help me, I love my captivity. Until you learn to be a proper wife. Until you learn to accept your fate as my chalice. I sleep sporadically, and when I need to relieve the calls of nature, the chamber pot is brought to me along with water and milk. When I am through, the entity takes me again, sometimes with both it's cocks - one for my mouth, one for my cunt. I watch as the lesser, invisible beings keep the cabin neat and tidy - cleaning up after their master - our master - roughly uses me, whenever and however it desires. It coaxes my body to passion with gentle touches as I doze, until certain I am awake and then it uses my sex, abusing it until I am tender and sore, but sated. It once forced itself into my poor, abused channel while I ate. Simply bent me over the table and lifted my shift to rock me back and forth on it's length. After it spilled it's seed inside of my womb, I finished eating as his children sucked me dry of our juices. Sometimes I fight it, I scream and swing my arms at the air that shimmers with it's presence which makes it laugh, but does not stop it. Once I ran again for the door, only to be hauled back to my father's bed and thrown down upon it to be used again. The force of that brutal fucking made the bed stand creak and snap, but I enjoyed it. I am lying in bed now, the chemise it tore hanging in tatters on my body as it idly strokes my thighs while I write. I glance up at the sunlight beyond the opened door of the cabin now and then, surprised when I see wrapped bundles of food that have been placed outside the door floating in on unseen hands. Our people leave you offerings. It whispers in my head, answering my unvoiced question. They wish you to be a good wife to their Great Spirit. Naked to any being which should wander past, I am beyond caring as I lie on my side, the quill pot balanced precariously on the bed beside me as my phantom lover lifts one thigh and plasters it's greedy mouth to my weeping sex. I sigh in pleasure as it suckles me, opening my mouth when I feel the thick head of one of it's cocks push gently at my lips for entry. I shall continue later. The bed movements from our pleasure may upset the inkpot and stain the sheets. A woman with long hair in a single thick braid down her back came to the cabin with Kaukesha after my invisible lover filled my belly full of it's sweet tasting seed. I gathered the edges of my chemise closed, to display some sense of modesty when I saw their shadows on the grass before my opened door. Come in. My lover whispered like a gentle breeze through the cabin as the two women hesitated outside the threshold, their eyes wide and staring as the unseen smaller phantoms continued to work and clean. "I bring gifts to the great mother." The woman said in halting French, making my heart lift a little in joy when I heard my native tongue as I watched her bow her head and place the corn flour on the table. "I bring the greetings and thanks of the tribe for being wife to the Great spirit." I forced the caustic remark on my tongue back, not wishing to anger my lover though I was not pleased with being trapped in my home. "I am not the great mother." I whisper back in French, making the woman's dark eyes dart up to meet mine. She nods slowly. "You are consort to the great spirit." I lift one red brow, giving a small nod and wondering if the entity understands the exchange. She is not always a proper wife. But she makes us happy when she is. Tell her what that means to my people. "Being his consort makes the great spirit happy, and the great spirit gifts us with good hunting and harvests. You care for him and we will share his bounty with you." She whispered, ducking her head as the great spirit's presence shimmered above her. "Please be a good mate to the spirit so our fortune will continue." Will you exchange yourself for her when she is not being a proper wife? The woman's body quivered, and I knew that she was feeling the same whisper of passion I felt when it spoke to me. Heated jealousy rose up in my chest, making my stomach clench as I watched my phantom lover's invisible fingers lift the thick braid of hair from the woman's back. Again she shivered beneath her doeskin dress and the color in my face rose. Kaukesha's head was still bowed, as if she were afraid to look upon me and I taunted the entity whose eyes I felt burn into my skin by letting the torn shift slip from my shoulder to expose one tiny breast as the worn material hung on one long nipple, teasing it. "I will do as the great spirit wishes." The woman whispered, still afraid to look up - afraid of what she would see like I was when I was first raped by it. You would be a dutiful and proper wife? I licked my lips, feeling the smaller phantoms go still at my teasing their master, but still I let the material slip from the other shoulder to expose the pert breast hidden beneath it. I opened my knees a touch, feeling my sex grow wet for my lover, wanting to feel it's rough hands on me, bruising me. Go. I need my mate. The two women jumped up and almost ran from the cabin as the entity's invisible presence bore me back on to the bed, the strong hands gripping my thighs and pushing them up to lift my hips toward it's huge, invisible organ again. Uncaring if the women beyond the open door can see me, I open my legs wider for the massive presence over me. I felt the phallus push inside me, past the tight ring of my outer lips until it's thickness was housed deep within me. I heard it sigh in my head when the head of it's cock was firmly ensconced in my tight cunny and I sighed too. My wife. "My lover." I whispered back as it bore my arms up above my head to pin them there, leaving me to clench the quilt in my hands as it began to move in and above me, shimmering dust motes caught in the net of it's invisible presence. My cunt. "Your cunt." I replied, wiggling in an attempt to have it bruise me, take me forcefully. I will fuck my cunt. I will fill your belly with seed until your ripe womb is planted. "Yyyeesssss...." I hiss as it begins to move with more purpose, a little more brutal. I love this edge to it's assaults. I love it when it rapes me. "Fuck me, fuck me. Never leave me." I will fuck you. I will fuck you until your belly grows big with our children again and again. It pushes down harder, feeding more of it's enormous organ into my clenching channel until it is wedged hard against the entrance to my womb, making me wiggle and scream in pleasure again and again. It pulls, withdrawing and then slamming the long, thick phallus deep inside once more, pushing me down into the corn husk filled mattress as it once more stretches me wide. "Mmmmmm." I moan, hearing the crackle of the husks beneath my head, feeling the being's excitement grow when I wiggle again, as if I am trying to get away. My cunt! It shouts in my head as I laugh in joy, lifting my hips up higher to meet it's demanding thrusts, feeling it bruise my womb with it's rough hammering rhythm. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Rape me. Make it rough." I whisper as the possessiveness of the entity rises, as captive to my sex as I am to it's - and it rapes me. It takes me rough, makes me scream in pleasure until it echoes through the darkening forest. Wood Spirit Ch. 06 November 20, 1754 My womb is swollen, and I know I am full of the entity's seed in spite of it's children sucking me dry of it after each brutal bout of intercourse. The days grow shorter, the nights longer - and I am still captive in my cabin though not because of my phantom lover. I am chained here by it's children, who coax me from sleep with gentle suckling on my breasts and sex, untiI I shudder through my release. The entity does not stay here now. I know not where it wanders, but I know it comes and goes from the cabin - sometimes staying to feed me it's cock and fill my belly as it filled my womb with it's seed. I can suspect where it is - I hear the cries of pleasure from the forest near the cabin, I have seen the disheveled female natives who leave gifts at my door, their torn dresses. I cannot help but grow jealous and my sex clenches in desperate need for my phantom to fill me with his immense cock. I am a wanton to a spirit that hunted and now haunts me with memory of it's rough lovemaking, the joy of having my cunt owned by it a memory since I stopped my courses. I rub my hand lightly over my growing belly and wonder when the babe will be born, and what it will look like when it is even as I open my legs for the smaller entities to service me with their mouths again. December, 1754 I do not know what day it is. I woke this morning to an ache in my stomach that left me gasping for air. I think it is too early for the babe to come, but I am not certain. I have never been coached in matters of the marriage bed let alone the fruits of it, so I cannot be certain. I write this now because I do not know how long I will last. I do not know how much more pain my heart can take. I felt the small phantoms all around me. The ones who were not massaging my lower back and rubbing my legs to soothe me were suckling my breasts, encouraging my milk to come. Outside, it is dark and cold and the snow has begun to swirl up and under the oiled hide as the remainder of the phantoms move around the cabin - preparing for the birth I think. I hear my lover's roar from the dark, forest and a woman scream in fright. My heart tightens as if a huge fist is squeezing it and I swallow my jealousy as I have so many times before. As if they can sense my heartbreak, the small phantoms gently pry my thighs open and stroke my sex. I feel small digits enter and stroke me, but it is nothing compared to the way my phantom can fill me. I hear the woman in the dark forest let out a strangled whimper and I wonder if my lover is feeding her his cock as he fills her cunt. I begin to weep as another pain wracks my body. It stops my tears and makes me cry out as I double up to try and cocoon the pain with my body. The cabin door is knocked wide open by a gust of wind and the fire dances in the hearth. I let out a cry of joy as I sense my lover in the doorway and the smaller phantoms flee. The door is slammed shut and it's presence fills the cabin with it's heat. My wife. My mate. "Yes." I whisper even as another pain wracks my body. It bears me back on the bed with it's invisible presence, lifting and opening my thighs. I cry out happily as I feel the immense head poking at my entry and I wait for the piercing girth to fill me once more. As another pain explodes through my body, it roughly shoves it's organ deep inside me, tapping at the entry to my womb as something deep within me breaks and I dowse the sheets and bed with fluid. I feel the small phantoms scramble forward to begin licking and sucking at the fecund smelling fluid and my lover buries himself within me to fill me full of it's seed even as result of it's last deposit slips free of my womb and I black out. I did not see the babe, but I heard it's cries as it was swept from the cabin into the snow tossed storm beyond. I am alone, the cabin empty of my lover and his children. The fire grows lower in the hearth, but I do not have the energy nor the willpower to stoke it now that my lover has left me. I am bereft of everything in this world. No family, no husband, no friends, and now that I am no longer mate to the entity the natives call the great spirit, I have no way of feeding myself. It is only a matter of time that I die, and for that I am thankful.