June's Story
I don't know how Aunt Sylvie managed to convince mum to let me have the operation, my dad crumbled quickly, maybe it was something to do with him groping my aunt a few months ago. From what I read on Aunt Sylvia's computer, my aunt had got drunk at some leaving do, and phoned my mum to pick her up, mum sent dad, and he tried to force himself on her in his car. Okay, it maybe one of my Aunt's fantasies, but I really don't know.
Mum told me she would let me have the operation, even though she still didn't agree with it. Sylvia had convinced her that I was going to have it with or without their approval one day. Mum hugged me for the first time in ages. We sat in my bedroom and talked, and she made a joke about my cakes always being better than hers. She hugged me as I left the house with tears in her eyes, but she smiled.
As the plane touches down I can feel the butterflies in my stomach starting to flutter.
I get in a taxi, and it takes me up through the mountains to the clinic. I watch the countless pine trees, and brightly painted houses go past the window. The taxi sweeps up a long drive, and there in front of me is the clinic. It all looks so new, with a giant window, which seems to cover most of the front of the building. To the left of doors I see a woman going up the stairs behind the glass. As I get out of the taxi I can smell the pine. The rest of the place is made up of white stone. It all looks like a huge barn conversion, but everything looks very new. I hear a collection of bells in the distance.
"That's the cattle heading to the farm for milking," the taxi driver says with a smile.
Two women in white coats greet me with smiles.
"Welcome June. The doctor will see you in the morning."
I sleep in a room which hasn't got a speck of dust or dirt in it. The whole place is cleaner than any place I've been in before.
The next morning the woman cleaning the corridor smiles at me as I follow the nurse. The nurse taps lightly on a tan coloured wooden door. She opens it and there he sits, the doctor who will be changing my life. He stands up, removing his gold rimmed spectacles. He smiles at me, and we shake hands. I watch over his shoulder as the cattle, which I probably heard last night, are strolling down the steep hill in the distance.
"Welcome to Austria, June."
I turn, and there to my shock stands Doctor Rose Trent, my GP back in England!
Sylvia's Story
So here I am on the back of a horse drawn cart, being paraded through the town like the first prostitute back in 1708. It's all fun and games, and I doubt many people know the real origins of the story. I'm booed at and squirted with water pistols by giggling kids. My hair is going to be a mess when this is through. Another horse and cart winds its way round the many stalls, with kids on the back laughing and enjoying themselves.
By 11pm there are just a few drunks, and the food stalls have long been deserted. The fair ground rides are being packed up, and I'm stood here barefoot in a long white smock. A sign hangs round my neck in cardboard, with the word Jezebel painted on it. I see the horse pulling the cart coming back down the road. I jump as Nathan Murray appears seemingly from nowhere by my side. Men in hoods and long black smocks appear. Their feet are laughably in shoes or trainers, and one guy has a watch on, which is hardily historically correct.
One hooded guy grabs my arm pulling me towards the cart.
"Hey fucking well watch it,"I snap, which has one of the hooded men chuckling.
Yes it is ridiculous, but also there is something sinister about them, well Nathan in particular. One thing which is even more worrying is there must be a dozen men here. Okay they want to watch the little light spanking I'm going to get, and then a fucking, as I remember from the book in the museum. The first prostitute, Molly Redcar was spanked, and then fucked by a local man that night, and then for the next 15 nights, by all the man who lived in the small hamlet, as it was back then. She was given stale bread to eat, and put in stocks every night on the village green.
I protest at the gag being pushed in my mouth, but with several pairs of hands restricting any physical resistance, I'm soon hoisted back on the cart, with my hands tied behind my back. The cart goes to the far end of town, and up towards the old barn. The hooded men follow on behind on foot. We stop at the barn a mile out of town; I'm lifted down and walked round the corner.
"These are the very same stocks Molly was put in over night, all those years ago," Nathan whispers in my ear.
I've seen them in the museum behind a big glass case. I read the little card there too, about the winch mechanism which raises or lowers the stocks in both sides of the frame, thus lowering or raising whoever is locked in them, to their knees or up on their toes.
"We've put a little padding in the holes for you," one man says in an excited voice.
I'm struggling again, but this time harder. It causes chuckling amongst the group. Finally I'm secured with my hands and head locked in the stocks. I'm hearing ring pulls on cans of beer being pulled, and then the clicks of the ratchets to my left and right. I have to shuffle my feet backwards, as my head gets lowered an inch at a time. My ass is further back and I'm bent right over. The smock gets torn off my body, and there I am, naked, in front of the beer swilling, chattering men, under the moonlight. I remind myself I'm doing this for my niece, but now it's getting a little scary.
Wendi's story
Toby and I hooked up at the fair. I've sneaked into his house and up to his bedroom. His mum is away at a clinic somewhere drying out.
"Where's your dad?"
"He and a few others have convinced that Sylvia to be Molly for the night. I heard him talking to a couple of men about it."
"Molly the prostitute from way back when?"
"Yep, well I guess they are just going to have some drunken fun with her. Dad even managed to get the stocks out of the museum. They are going to act it out like a group of twats with a model train set."
"You mean they are actually going to put her in the stocks, and do those things to her?"
"Yep, have some drunken fun with her, and then get home at dawn. That is why you're safe here. You do want to sleep with me, don't you?"
I ignore that and start searching my phone. The teachers always glossed over the real happenings back then. Toby sees what I'm doing.
"I know all about it, my dad has the original book, it is pretty grim stuff. I'll go and get it."
He comes back.
"It's gone, he must have taken it with him, luckily I took a few pictures of the text last year, and it is on my comp."
I look round his bedroom with all the things any boy would want but only dream of. Hell I wouldn't mind half the stuff, the latest game stations, the record decks, and a huge screen telly up on the wall. I sit on his knee and we sort of smile at each other. I know it is just sex that brings us together. I guess we use each other, but that's the way we like it.
"See it says here, Molly Redcar was put in stocks and spanked with a bunch of stinging nettles until the stems broke, by each of the men who lived in the beach side hamlet. Then her backside was branded with the letters T. T. W. which stood for Tart Town Whore."
"Wow, I bet they won't do that. Sylvia would never agree to it anyway," I smile and open my legs a little as Toby's hand rests on my knee, and we kiss.
Sylvia's Story
I watch from my bent position as Nathan pulls a hood over his head. I've had enough of this now, and wish I had never agreed to this stupid thing.
He puts on a glove, and someone hands him some vegetation.
"Stinging nettles Sylvia. We each have a bunch, and your ass is going to sting for a week."
He stands there looking down on me, and then I jump. Little needles are thrashing against my skin. It itches like crazy as it keeps landing on my ass. I'm sure Nathan is grinning under that hood.
Someone else starts grunting and thrashing me. I'm jiggling around and trying to pull out of the stocks, as my backside feels the pain from the little dagger like needles. Another guy moves behind me and starts beating my ass. He comes back in front of me after a few strokes, and I see the broken stems of the nettles in his hand. Another guy starts whipping me, and I feel little lumps growing all over my backside. It itches like crazy, and as each man has a go at my backside, I jump and twist.
I've been growling constantly into the gag, swearing, and then pleading with them to stop, and then cursing them again.
