Fairy Tales Ch 02 The Spinner

A spinner of wool decided to leave his shop and explore the world.

Perhaps he would be a hero, battling great creatures!

But no, he was afraid of the spiders he found among the wool. Many a skein he had pitched out the back door, afraid to pick the spider out. No monsters for him!

Perhaps he would discover great mysteries among the mountains!

But no, he often lost his way to the butchers though he had been there many times.

Perhaps he would make his fortune, trading among the tribes of the east!

But no, he knew no languages but his own, and in his shop made a bare living.

He would seek love then! For any person may find love, if they look in the right place.

Taking a cheese, a water skin, he cast around the shop for anything else useful on his quest.

Having no inspiration, he chose at random from his bench a prick, a spindle and a comb. Why not! They had been useful all his life.

Travelling to the edge of town, he looked right and left and back and forward. Forward looked good! He headed on.

Soon he had to cross a river. There by a sandbar was a woman bathing. She was plump and comely and naked, and her hair was matted and tangled.

"Ho! Woman by the river! May I help you with your hair?"

The woman was not afraid nor shy, and waved to him to come forward.

He sat on the rock and considered. Then taking his carding comb, he began teasing the snarls and snags from her hair, never pulling too hard and never breaking a hair.

After a fine while he considered his work - a fine head of hair! Beautiful and shiny!

The bather was quite pleased with the result.

"Man, you have made me beautiful with your comb. May I give you a reward?" She smiled a shy smile.

He laid his rucksack on the bank, stripped from his clothing and plunged into the water. Coming up by the rock he emerged between her legs and gave her a kiss.

She responded by grasping his cock and kissing him back. Soon they were a tangle of arms and legs in the grass on the shore, their lust indulged by sucking, suckling and fucking.

After a time as he thrust into her from behind like the bull in the field, he saw between her ample buttocks a glint of blue. Probing with her fingers (and getting a squeal and sigh from her) he found something hard.

Grabbing it firmly he tugged and Pop! out came a small glass bottle, filled with some blue liquid.

Glancing back over her shoulder the bather looked surprised. "How did that get in there? It must have been in the river and become lodged when I bathed."

Finishing inside her cunt, slippery from her immense enjoyment, he bowed and dressed and put the bottle in his rucksack. "For who knows what use I may make of this? My first talisman on my quest!"

He considered the bather. Was this his true love? No, she cared not for him, but just for his skill with a comb and a cock.

The bather resumed her washing and smiled and waved as he crossed the river and resumed his journey.

On the far bank he looked right and left and back (there was the naked bather, washing her cunt! Hi!) and forward. Forward looked good! He headed on.

Cresting a hill revealed a pleasant valley with a cottage. Smoke came from the chimney. A flock of sheep spread across the grass. A young woman was minding the sheep, pensive.

Approaching the woman, she spotted him and began to complain.

"Nothing ever happens here! I watch the sheep, and the sheep ignore me. Nobody visits this quiet valley; nobody visits my cottage. I'm so bored!"

He considered. "I have here something that will help relieve your boredom for a while at least!"

He dug in his rucksack and produced the spindle - long and thin and stiff, with a bulb on one end. A disk finished it off. She took the spindle from him and examined it.

"What is it? How is it used?"

"Let me show you. It is a spindle, for young women. First we must undress."

The girl (for she was just a young girl really, just into her adulthood) slipped off her shift with a flourish. She wore only that and was quite slim and strong underneath.

The Spinner laid down his rucksack and carefully removed his clothes. When naked he continued.

"Next we must hold each other, skin to skin, until something happens."

The girl embraced him, looking him impudently in the face, her breast against his, her virginal fuzz against his prick. His prick began to grow. Her pussy began to drip.

"Is something happening?!" She pulled apart a bit and stared at his cock.

"Yes, I think it is!"

"Now what do I do? Is it time for the spindle?"

"Sure! We can use the spindle now. Bend over!"

She bent, holding her knees with her hands, her legs strong and straight, firm rump thrust skyward.

With the spindle he traced tracks across her back, across her rump. Then Slip! he inserted the spindle into her cunt, which was wet and ready for it.

She gasped, trembled, then held very still.

Holding the short end, he eased the long thin shaft into her body until it reached the bulb at the base.

Easing in and out gently, he listened to her whimpers and gasps and chose his moment. Then he pushed! gently and got the bulb past her greedy inner lips.

Now the long shaft was completely encased in her girl-flesh. The disk was pressed to her bush. He began to turn the spindle as he had many times before in his craft.

She put her hands on the ground, her flanks exposed completely to his workings. Her flow increased, wetting her nether lips and beginning to run down her thighs.

"Spindle Spindle spin my wool! Set the sliver, twist the plies! Fine as silk for grateful eyes!"

Indeed, her virginal wool was fine as any he had ever spun. But he was not spinning yarn now. He was building to a peak of excitement.

"Threads so slender, twist and pull! Gather the skein! Add the stain! Pull yarn, pull!"

She was panting now and wriggling her hips uncontrollably. He began to alternate twisting the spindle with pulling it 'til the bulb started to appear, then letting her cunt pull it back in. She trembled each time.

Putting one hand under her bush between her legs, he felt with wet fingers until he found her nubbin. Massaging that in small circles, she immediately began to convulse.

Her knees bent and unbent, thrashed her butt in the air, her cunt lips clenched and unclenched. He could not pull the spindle out for the force of her grasping cunt.

With a howl, she began to cum! A stream of creamy foam spilled out around the spindle shaft, flowing around the disk.

Without knowing why, he cupped his hand to save her milky essence.

She quickly filled his hand and the overflow plop-plop-plopped on the ground.

She fell to one knee, and he let her go. With the other hand he rummaged for his water skin, with his teeth he pulled the stopper and emptied it on the ground.

Carefully, carefully he held his cupped hand to direct her cum-fluid into the skin, saving it for later. He knew not why, but this virgin quim fluid seemed to him precious.

"Who knows, but this may be the second talisman of my quest!"

Her heaving breath having slowed, she fumbled around behind her as she knelt on the ground, and carefully tugged at the spindle until she popped! it free. More fluid spurted after, adding to the wet between her knees.

"Thank you stranger for this new toy. I will occupy my quiet hours with pleasure!"

He bowed, dressed, stowed his water skin and donned his pack.

"Sweet young thing, I am glad to be of help!"

He began his trek across the valley floor to the other ridge.

He considered the shepherdess. Was this his true love? No, she cared not for him, but just for his toy. Perhaps one day she would desire a mate, but not today.

Mounting the ridge, he looked right and left and back (the shepherdess was lying in the grass, bare legs straight in the air, her hands furiously working at her quim) and forward. Forward looked good! He headed on.

When the sun was high, he came to a wood. Making his decision he plunged into it.

An hour of trekking brought him out the other side, and he was faced with a sea.

Evening was fast approaching. On a wooden pier sat a maid, a pile of nets at her side, picking at one disconsolately. He approached, greeted her.

"Fisherwoman! Kind greetings! Is there a place nearby, a helpful traveler can spend the night?"

"Oh Traveler! You may spend the night in my cottage, if you only help me un-knot these nets! I have been here two days, and all I have to show is this!"

She held up a small handful of cords - twisted and frayed. She showed him the net she worked.

He examined the knots with a practiced eye. They were pulled tight and swollen from the sea. She'd tugged and pulled at some of the knots but only served to make them tighter.

Rummaging in his pack he pulled out his prick - a short stick with a smooth fine tip, made for picking apart stubborn knots.

Applying himself, he quickly applied his prick to the net and had it fully de-knotted in a trice. He held up the cords to her amazement.

"You are so clever! Show me! I am but a clumsy hand at knots."

He gave her the prick and bent over her back as she awkwardly picket at a net. With only a little coaching, she soon had it apart. With joy she held up the lengths of cord she'd salvaged.

"I am saved! I can quickly make new nets and make a fine catch tomorrow. But the night draws in - you must stay with me and sup in my cottage!"

The cottage was at the edge of the forest, not far. They carried their small harvest of cord to the door.

She turned there and looked at him under lowered brow.

"But what do I know of you? You may be a kind traveler - you have shown me kindness already.

But you may also be a scheming man, with other plans as well. For all I know, you may be planning to use these cords to bind me helpless!"

"Miss! I assure you..."

"Hush! I'm sure of it now! Your face gives away everything! You will bind my hands to those branches, and bind my feet to the trunk, and have your manly way with me all night! Oh dear! And the nearest aid is miles from here.

No one will hear my cries as you pillage my poor womanly body! You will strip me and tie me and savage my breasts and plunge your manhood into my body until I shudder with your passionate forceful violation!"

And so, he did. Pulling her shirt over her head, he pushed her to the tree. Using the cords, he tied her hands where she indicated and tied her feet as well.

Stripping he stroked his manhood until it was strong and ready, while mauling her firm tight breasts with one hand.

"Oh! your prick is so sharp! It shall injure me!"

"Have no worries - it is blunt and made for the task. Here, let me show you!"

He put his cock in her face for her to see how it was firm but not sharp. She bent as far forward as the rope permitted to accept it, sucking it into her mouth. She explored it with tongue and lips until his prick spurted in her throat.

"I see it now! You plan to make me accept your seed, by forcing this tool into my cunt! How many times will you ravage me? All night and into the dawn! I weep for my poor bruised cunt!"

So, he did. Freeing her from her skirt and putting his arms to her shoulders, his lips to her lips, he thrust! and thrust!

When she would shudder and cum, he would rest. When his cock would grow and his balls clench and spend into her womb, she would cry and weep and lament her helplessness and loss of innocence. Apparently, her innocence could be lost any number of times!

By dawn he had seven times spent his semen; he lost count of her trembling and helpless shuddering, her fluid spurting past his cock and wetting their legs, wetting the tree, wetting the grass.

At dawn he untied her bindings, helped her into the hut, gave her water and put her to bed, her limbs smeared and raw from their vigorous coupling. She snored as he closed the door.

Gathering his satchel, he noticed the tree trunk shiny with their careless ejaculations. Tree sap had dripped and mixed with it, to produce a thick yellow tar that seemed to him important.

Taking a stick, he scraped and rolled the sap into a wad. This stick with the cumwad on its tip, he stuck into the straps of his pack and shouldered his burden.

He considered the fisherwoman. Was this his true love? No, she cared not for him, but just for her fantasies. Perhaps one day she would desire a mate, but not today.

Mounting the ridge, he looked right and left and back (her snores rattling the shingles of her hut) and forward. Forward looked good! He headed on.

All day he walked along the shore, his idle goal a tower visible on a point of land far ahead. As the day wore on the tower would disappear behind a rise of land, then seem larger when it reappeared.

Late in the day, rounding yet another headland he was faced with the tower looming just ahead. Lights flickered in the windows, and flower borders were planted around the base. Perhaps kind people lived here and would welcome a traveler!

The door had a sign - "Tower of the Seven Virgins. Tradesmen in rear"

A huge knocker shaped like a proud penis made a resounding Boom! as he raised it by the heavy brass balls and released. He waited.

The door finally creaked open a little, and a fine woman peeked out. Seeing him, she brightened.

"Have you come to service the knobs on my chest? Tradesmen should cum in my.. in the rear!"

"No, for I am not a carpenter nor a tinker. I am simply a traveler, weary and hungry. Have you room for me inside?"

"I think we could fit you in! But you must only come around the back! Come, come, enter!" Yet she swung the door wide, making way for him.

The bottom room of the tower was a great hall, with spiral stairs around the wall leading up to higher levels.

His host called out "Sisters! We have a visitor! Attend!"

Feet appeared on the stairs. Then thighs, hips, bellies, torsos, shoulders and heads showed as they descended, six women each as beautiful as the last. Dressed in brief, practical shifts, they surrounded him, peering and touching.

"We've not had a man visit in quite a while; you have to forgive their eagerness. Sit! Sisters, bring drink, food and oil!"

He sat on a couch with a fine cushion. Two of the younger ones set up a table, and the others began bringing ale, meat, pies and a pitcher of oil. He smiled his thanks.

"I have no money and cannot repay in that way. But if I may be of service, I am strong and willing!"

The younger women tittered and covered their mouths, their cheeks pink. The older ones smiled and nodded, indicating he should begin eating.

The meat was roasted to perfection, the pies hot and crisp. The ale was adequate and plentiful. He ate his fill, while all seven sat on stools and watched.

"You are fine cooks, and fine hostesses! I am refreshed! But the trail was long and the hills, steep. I fear I will not last much longer before my eyes close."

They seemed distraught at that. The senior woman gave a sign, and another skipped out of the hall into a side room. She returned with a bottle and glasses.

"This will refresh you, banish your fatigue and strengthen your resolve!" She poured a glass.

He sipped cautiously, then finding it light and sweet he drained it, to their evident satisfaction.

Indeed, his fatigue was banished!

The table was cleared and removed, save the oil which remained at his feet. He returned to his question.

"What service may I provide, that seven women require?" he asked earnestly.

"We are an order of virgins, sworn to remain so as our holy order demands. As it is written,

Hall of sweet relaxation,

Accept all who desire to come,

Clear of mind and earnest intent,

Virgin's first issue will purify,

Limbs make fast so bodies taut,

Virgin mysteries to penetrate,

Thus, the crafts born of man,

Seven come from one who comes prepared,

Past the portal and into bliss.

"And what does that mean to your order?"

"Oh, it's quite clear! Well, mostly. The hall is this place, and we accept all travelers with hospitality.

The bit about clear mind we take as acolytes who wish to enter our order, to learn the Virgin mysteries you see."

They nodded, all in agreement.

"And what about limbs and bodies? What can that portend?"

"We exercise with weights and by climbing these stairs. Our limbs are restrained by the weights; our bodies made taut through climbing."

One young virgin leapt up, mounted the stairs and flew up like the wind. In a moment she returned, face flush and smiling.

"You see! We are all limber and our muscles, ready." The runner took his hand and placed it under her brief shift. It was indeed flat and hard! He smiled at her, as she held his hand gently against her warm belly.

"The last part then?"

"Oh, that's not quite clear to us. One day we think someone will join us, pass through our portal, penetrate our mysteries completely and teach us all... about seven? Somethings?"

He smiled. It was no worse than many holy scriptures and had the benefit of being short.

"But as for the service we require of you! It begins with accepting you and relaxing you - which we have done. Then clearing your mind - which the spirits have accomplished?"

"Yes, the drink is marvelous! I can see every beautiful feature of your loveliness! Your lashes, so long! Your limbs, so limber! Your skin, so clear! Teeth, so bright!"

They all nodded in satisfaction, comparing skin and limbs, laughing.

"You have learned some of our Virgin mysteries, so that's good. All that remains is to prepare you for the night!

You see, we all sleep together on the top level, in one large bed. There you will also spend the night. But first you must be purified by oil! To remove the sweat of your toil and the soil of the road."

With that they fell upon him, pulling at his garments, taking up the oil, spilling onto their palms and massaging onto his body. It was sweetly scented and removed the aches of the day.

"Next will be sanctification, where each Virgin will bestow on you a blessing."

Each woman in turn approached him and gave her favor.

The first, his hostess, kissed him on the lips.

The second licked his neck where it met his chest, her tongue caressing the hollow of his throat.

The third sucked at a nipple; the fourth the other nipple.

The fifth raised his foot and sucked each toe.

The sixth cupped his balls, sucking each in turn into her mouth.

The seventh, the youngest, approached shyly, knelt and took his cock gently in hand, bringing her mouth to the head and licking round until he was proud, and the tip leaked clear fluid.

"It is done! Now we will take you up to bed, and we will have the Oral Sex! The bliss! All will enjoy your service tonight!"

He was more than willing, though a little disappointed to learn there would be no fucking. His cock was nearly bursting from their gentle attention. But he was a guest and owed them whatever courtesy they required.

They led him up the stair to the next level, and the next and finally the top, which was a colonnaded walkway open to the air, surrounding an enormous round bed in the center.

It formed a wooden circle laid in silk and cushions, with places marked in colored pillows for seven to rest their heads. Apparently, their feet all faced the center.

His place was to be that center. The put him there, shrugged out of their brief clothes. He was already naked. Each took their place lying with their 'Virgin mysteries' surrounding him.

He surveyed the task, a little daunted. Seven cunts to please! All must cum or he would have failed them. How to proceed?

His gaze happened upon his pack, brought and lain by the bed. What tools did he have? He had given away all his practical belongings to three other deserving women.

Suddenly it hit him - the spirits having cleared his head, and the sight of his pack revealing the holy truth.