Trigger warning: This story features characters that deal with past abuse and trauma.
*NOT 100% non-erotic BUT THERE IS VERY LITTLE SEXY STUFF*
This story is a slow burn. So, if that's not your cup of tea, please try one of my other stories!
All characters are 18 years old or older. Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions! Thank you for reading and enjoy!
*****
He wiped the icy snow from his beard roughly with one sleeve and hiked on. His feet ached. His stomach was rumbling with hunger and his back was sore from carrying the supplies such a long distance. The wind howled at his back. He could hear small branches and twigs snapping.
The young woman followed behind him carefully placing her feet in the prints he had made. The snow was not very deep yet, but it would not be long until it was too much to travel. It had come early this year. Her feet ached. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt snow. Even in the freezing temperature, even as the sweat made her uncomfortably hot and cold at once, she never said a word. This man was willing to treat her well. She would not give him a reason to let her go. She would not allow herself to be discovered by her former masters. She would never belong to anyone again. This man offered safety, shelter, and knowledge. She would stay here as long as she could, knowing that it was hard to come by such a combination.
He counted himself lucky that he had not run into anyone yet. Henry found it difficult to believe. Even on his easiest trips, he had encountered some people outside of town. Vigilantly, he kept an eye out for anyone lurking behind trees or in other hiding places. Even in the beginning of a storm, you could never be too safe. The woods were among the easiest places for criminals to hide. In the town, they wouldn't be able to get away with stealing or harming others. In the woods, criminals had free reign.
Henry had chosen his cabin carefully. He knew how dangerous a place this could be. But he also knew the kind of freedom and simplicity that could be found in the depths of the forest. His cabin was difficult to find through the thicket of trees and kudzu that seemed to engulf everything around him. The leaves and brambles made for excellent camouflage.
It was dark when he approached the cabin. The tin roof had been lightly dusted in snow. The mixture of leaves and ice crunched underfoot as they walked up the hill towards his home. Slowly he opened the door. The room was cold from the storm and Henry immediately went to start a fire.
"Please, go ahead and put those things away," he said to the girl as she closed the door.
Nodding she went to follow his orders. In the kitchen she could hear the fire begin to crackle. She was dying to be in front of its warmth. When she came back into the living room, she saw him sitting on the couch. She noticed that he was wearing a different shirt and pants. His wet clothes were hung up by the fireplace.
"You should change into some warm clothes," he said standing up to give her the items, "Give me your other ones and I'll dry them with mine."
She hesitated before taking the clothes. She nodded in thanks. Slowly she began to disrobe. The image of her naked breasts startled Henry who had not known that she was naked. He turned his eyes away in order to maintain her privacy, but she seemed completely unphased by her nakedness.
Still naked, she turned his face to hers. He could tell now that her expression was one of bewilderment. She nodded and ran her hand along the outside of the garment, smoothing down any wrinkles. She smiled one of her rare smiles as if she were trying to reassure him that his gift meant a great deal to her.
Henry forced his eyes to the ceiling with great difficulty. He had caught a glimpse of her erect nipple, light brown against her pail, freckled skin. She was young and naive. Perhaps it was innocence that made her so unaware of how her delicate frame and soft, supple curves could spark desire into his thoughts. He thought not. The way in which he found her suggested that she had seen her share of violence. Without looking he quickly fastened the cloak to cover her. He had been the one to find her in the woods. This poor, sweet girl needed his help; he would not treat her as prey.
"I didn't mean in front of me. Go. Put some clothes on. I don't want to see you undressed in this house. Is that clear?"
When he looked down at her, he saw that she was confused. There were tears brimming in her eyes, but all too quickly she nodded and turned away. He could hear her footsteps upstairs. Leaning back into the armchair, he wondered if he had spoken too harshly.
Upstairs she fumbled with the new clothes he'd given her, a shirt and pants. She'd hung the cloak up and closed the bedroom door. She had always been trained to wear as little clothing as possible around men, especially men that were to be respected. Why had he seemed so offended at her display of loyalty? She was unsure of what to do next, but she put on the clothes as he had told her and came back downstairs.
When she came back into the living room, she was wearing As she worked, her thoughts began to trail off to the room upstairs. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. It was true that she did not know what happened there, but she could easily have guessed.
In her mind, something awful had happened in that room. Thoughts drew her back to her own past and the terrible things that she had endured with her many previous owners. But she had never had an owner like Henry. He was different from the rest. Perhaps it was because he was not formally her owner. Technically, she was still owned by her most recent buyer. But after trying to run away he had treated her even more violently and left her to die. That was when Henry found her. He had taken her in and fed her and asked for nothing in return. He had given her a bed and clothes and asked for no favors from her. She was desperate to show her gratefulness to him. And there was one thing that no man had ever refused her.
There he was. Lying on the couch, collapsed from exhaustion. His legs were spread out, his head leaned back in a way that allowed his mouth to hang open in sleep. She would have laughed at his appearance if she did not admire him so. Instead, she knelt before him, as she had done for countless others.
Her slender hands reached up to unzip his jeans. She began to kiss his shaft over his underwear, feeling as it got harder. A soft moan escaped him. She kept going. She began to use her hand to massage his balls as she kissed a trail from his belly to the hem of his underwear. He moaned again. This time his eyes fluttered open, somewhat confused.
She felt him jerk back sharply, yelling an obscenity. He zipped up his pants and buttoned them. As he stood he picked her up by the arm and sat her down on the couch roughly. Startled by his quick movements, she sat motionless before him.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?"
She looked around, panicked. She hadn't done anything wrong at all. She tried to bite her nails to cover up for how badly her hands were shaking. She'd never had a man tell her to stop doing that. What had she done wrong?
Henry saw how nervous and fearful she had become. He took a breath and sat down on the table in front of her. He couldn't help but wonder about this strange girl. He looked at her hard for a few more moments before he spoke.
"I'm going to bring you a notepad and you are going to explain to me just what the fuck you think you're doing."
When he handed her the paper and pen she hesitated but took it. She looked up at the man for a moment, deciding. Slowly, she began to write. All the things she had wished desperately not to tell. Surely when he found out that she had an owner, he would sell her back for the profit. She wanted to slap herself for not being more thoughtful. She should have charmed him slowly. She had gone too fast and now she would be returned to her terrible owner's harem of starving, brutalized women.
When she had finished the last word of the last sentence. She looked up at him. She couldn't stop the tears. They flowed down her cheeks so much that no matter how she wiped them away her face was still wet. With a shaky hand, she gave him the letter.
His heart sank as he read her story. Betrayed by her mother she had been sold again and again. She gave details of the vicious owners she had and their expectations of her. He knew that she had not fabricated the story. There was too much pain in her eyes for it to have been a lie. The ache in his chest was palpable. She had expressed her fear of leaving in a way that made him want to protect her. He set the letter aside.
Without a word, he took a seat beside her and pulled her into his lap. She was unsure of what was happening? Why did he embrace her now, when only a moment ago he had scolded her? She was overwhelmed with emotions that she could not name. Henry held her there, his hand cradling her head as she sobbed. He whispered words to her that he hoped were comforting. He stroked her hair and told her that he understood and that he would keep her safe.
Even in the letter, she had not shared her name.
"What would you think if I gave you a nickname? You don't have to keep it unless you like it." He said, "I think it might help to make you feel better. Like you're starting something new and that the past is behind you."
She nodded, wiping another tear.
"What about Randylin?"
She replied with a hug nodding into his chest as he held her close. He stroked her hair gently. For a moment they stayed there, embracing each other in silence. His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, ways he could help her. He wanted badly to mend the young woman before him.
He closed his eyes and hugged her more tightly. He knew now that she was not trying to be crude or vulgar before. In her own twisted way, she had meant to demonstrate how much she cared for him. But he would show her other forms of affection. He would treat her as the precious girl she was. He pulled back for just a second to wipe away her tears. When she looked up at him the look on her face made him furious at the men who had harmed her. He kissed her softly on the forehead and patted her back until her crying subsided. After a moment, he got Randylin some water and carried her to bed.He sat there, just beside the sleeping girl on the bed. Her slender, delicate frame outlined by his plain sheets. She looked peaceful. Her brow unfurled as any trace of worry left her face. Her breaths became deeper, slower. He began to stand up. As he went to leave the room, he turned and caught a glimpse of her asleep in his bed.
