1. The Passion of Agnes Part 5


    Date: 11/23/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Audrey_X, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    let me go back to near the beginning. I’ll tell you one day why I found myself on foot, friendless, walking a lonely road away from my native village of X when Beautoix and his henchmen came upon me. Suffice to say I incurred a shame that the godly folk of our humble village could not countenance. Ostracized and without hope or prospects I faced the wide, grim world utterly alone. It is hardly surprising that the Devil sent these men to prey upon me so soon. I must have seemed a delicious and easy morsel to the Fiend. I was tired and hungry. It was still early morning and I had gone without breakfast. I had taken a path going north perhaps an hour previously. The sky was not quite lit but beginning to stain with pink. Church bells tolled in the distance. The birds sang canticles to their Creator as I walked through the dim forest, occasionally emerging onto open moors and fields. I am a solitary soul and such peaceful impressions soothed my troubled heart. I tried, with the aid of those bells, to find the village whence they came so as to find some benefactor, some good person for whom I could work who would not take advantage of me, at least not unduly. The quiet peace of that morning was broken by the sound of trampling hooves and the rough voices of five large rugged men plus the rather sad figure of your husband, their leader, horrendously ugly with pigsty breath, Beautoix. His men called him by his Christian name Gaston. They were all brutish and filthy. I tried not ...
    to look at them. I was summoning my courage to ask these men for a ride to the village or perhaps a crust or a bit of cheese to assuage my appetite when they surrounded me. Their cocky smirks and jeering remarks put an end to my hope that these might be godly and charitable men. I trembled since for the protection of the Almighty I was as vulnerable as a wounded fledgling. They asked in rude tones my name, the name of my village and where I was going. I was frightened to the point of speechlessness. In reply to their queries I only succeeded in whimpering like an imbecile. I ran but was caught by the one whom Beautoix particularly favors, Grimaldus, whose face is covered in scars. They bound me and loaded me onto a mule like baggage. They talked of me as if I was not there, giving frank appraisals of my body and face. They admired my looks but it hardly pleased me. In their arrogance they mistook my paralyzing fear for idiocy. They assumed that I was mute and devoid of understanding. The lowly state in which they’d found me doubtless contributed to that impression. This was a grace from God and was to work to my advantage. I listened to them carefully and as they did not attempt to censor their speech I soon learned the object of their voyage. What I learned was more horrible than I could have imagined. I was not the only girl they had taken nor would I be the last. These men were professional abductors of girls. They had associates who worked the southern coasts, who knew ...
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