Fionas Sanctuary Sequel To Fiona

(edited by Kenji Sato...many thanks!)

Fiona rushed across the deserted early morning highway to the waiting pickup truck. "Bill!?"

"Yes Fi... it is me."

"Jeez, Bill..."

"Get in, Fi. I don't want some late for work commuter hitting you... besides it must be cold." Bill held back saying 'considering how you are dressed.'

As Fiona had run across the road, Bill could clearly see that all she had on were some plaid boxer shorts and a ratty old wool shirt with most of the buttons missing. Fiona was bare legged and barefoot, and the foothills of the Green Mountains were damn chilly this time of year at dawn. Fiona was pretty flat chested, but her nipples, erect from the cold, almost poked through the threadbare shirt... causing a stiffening in Bill's crotch.

Bill was silent as Fiona settled into the passenger seat. Upon further visual assessment of her, his boner withered. He was aghast at her appearance. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a tangle--like she had been almost drowned in a mucky pond. Her nose was running.

"Oh shit, excuse me, Bill--" Fiona exited the truck in the nick of time... vomiting and then her body was wracked with dry heaves.

"Sorry," and Fiona rushed to the nearby underbrush to relieve herself--lowering the boxer shorts just in time...

"Bill! Bill!"

"Yes, Fi?"

"Could you come here, please...".

"What is the matter, Fi?"

"Ohh...well...Bill, I just shit myself...had to wipe myself with the old boxers."

"Okay, hold on..."

Bill trampled through the brush carrying a jerry can full of water and some towels and an old pair of jeans.

"Keep this stuff in the truck just in case."

He could see Fiona several feet away from the soiled boxers...

She was standing in a small clearing bathed in the first rays of the dawn that poked through the gaps in the forest canopy.

Fiona's posture was not shy, not bold, not seductive...she was just there,... like a tree is just there...

"Fi...with your permission, I will clean you up."

Fi Fiona simply nodded. Unasked, she removed her shirt...

Bill winced at the sight. There were bite marks on her chest, bruises and scratches on her torso. Once lean and muscular, but now a bit flaccid like an athlete that had not trained for months; yet, still had some residual muscle tone.

She held herself as one who needed all her concentration to remain upright.

"Fi, Fi? You can sit on that stump if you're more comfortable..."

Fiona turned, forced herself to focus on the stump, nodded, and shuffled over to the stump.

"Bill, I wanted to meet... you... but, not like this..."

"Fi, don't fret. Sorry, this water is cold," as he poured a bit on a towel and started to wash her upper body. A body for which he had felt so much lust for... for so long... now he had washed all that away, as he took care of her immediate physical needs.

"Bill," Fiona sobbed, "I am so fucked up."

"Fi, we can talk after you're cleaned up and in a warm, safe place. Fi, can you stand, so I can wash the rest of you."

Silently, Fiona rose, but all she could do was bend over the stump. Bill noted that her anus was oozing blood, semen, and shit; her asscheeks were bruised; and her anus lacerated--Fiona winced as he cleaned her.

"Oh, Fi..." Bill lamented softly, as a tear trickled down his cheek.

"Okay Fi, turn around." Bill tried to sound matter of fact.

Fiona had her eyes closed as she sat on the stump. She spread her legs and leaned back.

Bill's heart sank.

Fiona's vagina was swollen, her clit bit and bleeding. Her previously virginal channel--now wide open, red and swollen. Her dip in that pond had removed most of the blood and semen.

He was left to clean up the clotted blood and secretions.

"Bill... I feel... like... shit."

"Let me get you home. Put these on. I just have to make a call, and we can get you to my place in the hills."

"Okay, Bill." Fiona got into Bill's old jeans, secured with a rope around Fiona's narrow waist. The legs were no problem--Bill was actually a bit shorter than Fiona. Wool socks and a spare shirt from the truck completed her wardrobe.

Fiona slept as Bill drove to his studio/workshop twenty minutes down the road. Bill's property included acres of woodland and pasture. Set closer to the main highway, the original workshop now also housed Bill's art studio, where he painted portraits and landscapes.

Long retired from his college jobs, Bill kept busy with some forestry work. Small jobs cutting up fallen trees. Some were destined to be firewood; but the 'good wood' he could saw into planks and dry them until they were suitable for custom furniture.

Because he might work late into the day and not wishing to traverse mountain roads at night for the one hour drive to his home in Massachusetts, Bill had set up rough but comfortable living quarters attached to his workshop/studio. A small kitchen, a bed, and a bath with a solar hot water shower.

When they arrived at Bill's property, he had to help Fiona out out of the truck. He noted that the jeans he had given her were newly stained from secretions from her wounds... both vaginal and anal.

"God damn. I will kill whoever did this to Fi." he thought. More immediately, he hoped that his call to his friend, the local healer, would be answered. The woman was out when he called, and cell service was uncertain in the mountains; yet, he hoped that she would be on her way to his place even though she had not replied to his text.

Bill had called this healer rather than a conventional doctor because he sensed that the circumstances were murky. Her mind was not clear... whether from drugs or trauma...she would not respond well to the legal requirement that an M.D. had to follow.

Meg Strongbow was a traditional healer... descended from the Abennaki whose land this was...

The Abennaki did not follow any DNA trail to prove their legitimacy. If spiritually you were Abennaki... that was good enough for the tribe. It was how you lived, what you believed that was important--not some blood test.

As though she had just arrived through the spirit world, Meg was at his door, just as he settled Fi Fiona on a chair in his kitchen. Indeed, she had probably hitched a ride from a friend; but nevertheless, she had arrived silently and properly Halloed the house before approaching. Bill opened the door and beckoned her to enter.

Meg saw right through him to Fiona. "Oh you poor wounded bird," she softly cooed, so as not to startle the wounded and still groggy girl.

Fiona opened her eyes and turned to face the voice. Through slitted eyes, she could make out a well past middle-aged woman squatting before her, gazing into her--Fiona could feel herself being examined. Here, she thought, is one of the 'wise women' the fairy tales speak of. Dressed in an old UVM sweatshirt that covered braless heavy pendulous breasts, and a multi-colored ankle length skirt, much faded from years of use; clean, if well faded. She was above average height as far as Fiona could tell.

Meg straightened to stand and asked Fiona if she would allow Meg to touch her. Fiona was somewhat surprised at how strong and lean Meg was; despite her enormous breasts, her hips were narrow, her belly round, but not saggy, her feet bare and dusty.

Nodding her assent, Fiona first felt Meg's stubby, but strong finger touch her head.

"Girl, you need a good washing," said Meg, matter of factly.

Bill volunteered, "I think she tried washing in a stagnant pond."

Meg gave Bill the 'WTF do you think I am stupid and blind' look.

Bill... bowed his head, "Okay, I will be quiet."

Meg smiled, "I know you can't help it, Bill. Those who have balls speak before they are asked."

Meg inquired, "So much going on in there, girl--what IS your name?"

"My name is Fiona... but friends call me Fi."

Meg said, "I will call you Fiona... until you decide if I am a friend, or not. Fiona... I feel so much going on in there--all of it confused. Your mind has been messed with in many ways. Your body... I know the plants, herbs, and sweat baths can heal... when do you bleed next?"

"I should any day now, unless..."

"Yes... bad seeds may be growing in you. I think this bad seed will not take root. You are very thin, there are evil things in your body, and your mind is not welcoming a life.

"The herbs I will give you to heal. Some of them will affect the ability of bad seeds to take root in you. Your bleeding will also start your healing there, your other violated area. Your diet will be herbal teas for a week, then only blueberries and other herbal teas--lots of tea!" Meg smiled. When you make water, it will be most fragrant."

"My work... my apartment..."

"You must not worry about anything for a week. Keep your mind blank as possible. Your mind must heal to help your body heal. All of these other concerns will bury your memories. You must dream to free your mind."

Meg washed a compliant Fiona. Using a goats' milk-based soap made by a family member, she vigorously scrubbed Fiona... Fiona winced under the pressure; but it got her blood flowing and ultimately speeded her healing.

After the bath, Meg gave her tea to help her sleep. "You may not dream this first night; but, you will sleep deeply. Deep sleep will help heal your body. The dreams... when they come, will heal your spirit."

All Fiona could do was nod submissively. Tucked in, as a small child is tucked in by its loving mother, Fiona went immediately to sleep.

"She gets the bed and the house tonight; you and I will sleep in your camper."

"What... Meg???" stammered Bill.

"It is too late for you to drive me home, and she is not the only one in need of healing." Meg looked seriously and meaningfully into Bill's eyes.

"How did you know?" asked Bill.

"I am a healer... I need to notice things... things that signal that all isn't well in a person. You love this Fiona very much." Not a question... a statement. "Her hurt is deeply felt within you. You are not one-tenth a wounded heart and body as she is... but wounded you are. And your treatment will be swift and easy."

And the treatment commenced in the camper as they both disrobed. Bill was instantly erect at the sight of Meg's nakedness. His heavy muscular upper body and strong legs easily lifted the larger woman. Meg wrapped her powerful legs around Bill's waist and bumped her head on the camper roof.

"Not here, Bill. Outside... in the WORLD.

"

Bill built a large fire in the firepit he had well away from the camper and the workshop. His labors made his erection ebb, but Meg's touch made him hard... quickly.

The exertion of their robust lovemaking kept them warm. They were both people of the out of doors. Bill easily entered Meg's inviting pussy, parting her generous bush and fat pussy lips, and curiously small clitoris. Meg did not mind her tight ass being ground into the pine needles that carpeted the ground. Her lovemaking was mental, spiritual, as well as physical. In some ways, men were simpler to heal than women.

Still, she did not forsake her own pleasure. She insisted Bill suckle on her large tits, as he vigorously thrust into her, maybe, too vigorously. She sensed his imminent climax and was able to rub herself to match his orgasm with her own.

However, she preferred the climax to come with the stimulation of the erect male organ. Silently, she signaled that she was ready to go again.

Bill sighed, despairing that he was not up to the task; but Meg, through a subtle bit of hand magic... Bill could not tell with any certainty how this was different from any other manual stimulation he had experienced; but it was effective in a way that surprised him.

This time, Meg mounted Bill. Her large tits swaying in front of his face; this motion in the night air was immensely stimulating for Meg. She held down Bill so he was unable--not allowed to suck, or even touch her tits this time. Her slow rhythmic movements and the control her vagina had in grasping Bill's penis... caused them both to gasp with pleasure and awe.

Meg was able to keep them both on the edge of orgasm for what seemed like an hour or more. Bill could see the moon move in the sky, and he would later swear Meg was waiting for the moon to reach a precise point in the night sky, before she drove them both over the edge of the cliff of orgasmic inevitability.

After a period of post-orgasmic stupor, Bill and Meg began to feel the night chill as the fire died. They retreated to the relative warmth of the camper, where they both promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Being outdoors people, they also both rose with the sun.

Bill had breakfast going quiet in the kitchen so as not to rouse Fiona.

"So Meg, if I understood you correctly, no solid food for Fi today?'

"You did listen, Bill!" Meg replied, with mock surprise... or was it?

"I will leave you with a good supply of the herbs you will need for her teas, and instruct you on how to prepare them. I did not bring a supply with me, and I don't have the time to forage here and dry what Fiona needs; so we will have to go to my place for more."

"You're not staying, Meg?" Bill had a bit of disappointment in his tone of voice.

"You don't need any more healing--from me; and Fiona will do well under your care. I am just a phone call away and you are the one who loves her and that is great medicine. Besides, I'll be back in a few days. It won't take you longer than that to make the sweat lodge?"

"Ah yes, the sweat lodge... wait you never said..."

"Bill, I will give you instructions later, or on the ride back to my place."

"Oh, so I get to build the sweat lodge because I'm the man?"

"No, you get to build the sweat lodge because you are a competent builder. I am a healer--I stink at building things."

Meg could see that Fiona was still not well. Although, she had a good ten hours sleep, she did not dream.

"I know you are hungry, Fiona; but your body must release the poisons that were introduced and digestion of food will slow that."

"I trust you Meg, but whatever Bill made for you two for breakfast smells so good... I feel I could eat my weight in pancakes."

"And that my dear one, would not be good for you. You must come with us to my place, it is just twenty minutes away. I will bring my teas with me in a thermos, and you can drink on the way."

Bill expected some small talk, at least or maybe a torrent of revelations, as to what had happened to Fiona; but she dozed almost the whole way to Meg's house.

"What IS in that tea Meg?" Bill whispered, to Meg who sat beside him in the front of the truck while Fiona dozed in the extended cab's back seat.

"Just my healing herbs; the sleep aids are only in the afternoon and night teas--the poor child is simply exhausted."

When they got to Meg's, Fiona awoke suddenly. "Oh, I really have to pee!"

Meg lived in a small Victorian era cottage, in need of paint and minor repairs; but solid enough. "The bathroom is upstairs, Fiona. I will show you."

Fiona was still wearing Bill's old jeans; she struggled to untie the rope and unzip, "I won't have time." She undid the rope, dropped the jeans and squatted by the truck releasing a powerful fragrant stream on the back tire of the Tacoma.

"You will need a dress Fiona. You will be drinking a lot of my teas until you heal; and part of the healing is flushing out those poisons that are trapped in your body."

With those words, Fiona who was still squatting pushing out the last of the pee, let out a not so pleasantly fragrant, but extremely loud fart.

On the ride home Fiona was wearing one of Meg's daughter's dresses, handmade by a relative of Meg's (because Meg was a healer, and shit at sewing.)

That night, Bill brewed the teas for healing and sleep.

This time Fiona had her first dream of healing.

She was the spectator: she was remembering the first moment she KNEW she had been set up. She could hear Maisey's "uncle's" voice, "Hey, this is not how this was supposed to go down!"

She saw herself laughing. She looked not at the uncle, but at Maisey... only now she knew it was Maisey who had betrayed her. But, Maisey had also disrupted the uncle's plan (their plan?) by getting Tom aroused. Those two were drunk and stoned; not as drunk and stoned as Fiona, but way ahead of the other men.

Fiona watched spellbound (amused?) as Maisey undressed Tom, rubbing her half naked body against his. Soon she was fully naked, discarding the oversized work shirt and completely exposing the magnificent breasts that had enchanted both Fiona and Tom on the drive up to the cabin.

Tom was, as it turned out, the youngest of the men; late forties, perhaps early fifties. Clearly, now that Fiona could see his completely naked body, this was someone who had not spent the majority of his life behind a keyboard. These thick arms had a work man's tan, his neck and face bronzed, the rest of him startlingly white in contrast.

Details now sprung from Fiona's memory... broad, hairy chest covered with curly dark hair...

A forest of tangled pubic hair encircled his purple crowned cock... which he soon plunged into Maisey's eager pussy, as he lowered her to the sleeping bag covered cabin floor.

Then, Fiona's memory unnaturally focused on his ass, as he rapidly thrust into Maisey's cunt... the white tight ass cheeks set off by the dark hair that populated his ass crack. Maisey wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

"Fuck me harder," Maisey demanded.

Fiona learned in wonder, that his ass gave signal to, when he changed his angle of penetration into Maisey...

When Maisey exclaimed, "Oh my fucking God!" Tom knew he had found the right angle and teased Maisey with this new found knowledge. Slowing his thrusts... pulling almost completely out of her... then thrusting in balls deep... Then suddenly without plan, without warning, they both lost control. Maisey began to writhe on his cock; like a worm on a fishing hook, rolling back her eyes... she met his thrusts powerfully and finished him, as she finished herself.

Fiona awoke to the smell of Bill making his breakfast. He was cooking outside so as not to disturb her; but she was so hungry she could have smelled HIS cooking a mile away.

(to be continued: Fiona's Dreams Heal)