The Thread Test

PRIVATE - Patsy's diary - MUM DO NOT READ - IN FACT EVERYBODY DO NOT READ - WHY, BOTHER MOST OF YOU IDIOTS CAN'T READ - Ha, Ha

I am only the bloody one!

I just don't believe it. After all my hard work and studying and looking after that dodgy, smelly, old priest it all came down to that one thread test.

I was dreading it, to be honest. Aldith, the priest, is so ugly and old but I have been making it happen without fingers for years.

A bit of pressure from a blanket and just squeezing inside. I can spin such a vivid dream in my mind. So first old Gretchen checked I was still a maiden. She looked shocked when she saw I was, the cheeky cow.

She obviously had no idea that though I like boys I hate babies. Plus I don't think anyone can match my day dreams. The ones I have about my boy Ox can really get to me!

Ox just arrived here this spring. He will be made into his tribe's warrior and is simply gorgeous. I love his big, blue eyes, staring at me, especially as I kneel in front of him. I am meant to be making bread but all I really want to do is make him hard and my smile always seems to do that. Not bad for all the lack of practice I have endured for the goddess, the murdering bitch, praise her, thank her and keep her away... Why the fuck am I still saying that? I will be part of her soon.

Anyway the thread test was nowhere near as bad as those buggers have always made out. True they made all four of us maids strip in front of everyone. But I have never been shy and I loved how Ox almost had to sit down to hide his excitement. That sow Niamah almost caught me smiling but it was worth it!

Now normally a naked walk on a cold night is about as juicy as a sundried crow carcass, but they had lined the path with dried birch bark that burnt warm, fast and bright to light our way. It was so beautiful! The dancing fire on our bodies, the low singing and gentle drums of the furthest family and my Ox's eating eyes flickering from the trees.

I had waited sixteen winters and seventeen summers for this. Two of my friends back home have already died in childbirth. My own birth mother was dead by sixteen. I am so bored of the winters of "getting grown". Growing towards the secrets, they call it.

Never the secrets I want to fecking learn.

Always how to record our story, how to keep the bitch mother happy, how to look after and also avoid the mother and crone, how to make sure the dead stay dead, how to fix a broken bone, how to rebirth the spring, how to change the weather, though nobody's good at that round here, as far as I can tell.

Never how to make Ox squirt when I want him to. Mind, I think, after seeing his red face lit by the birch flames, I may just have worked that out myself!

Mind you I am so bad I want Ox but his blonde mate Banan has been banging into my day dreams too! Awful.

So we had to tramp, well inspired by Ox and Banan I swaggered, to the Cromlech. To be honest it was not my choice to be in this ridiculous ceremony but I was not going to let those bastards know how scared I was.

I was embarrassed, mind. I may have been lit and warmed by the fires but I was still bloody naked and nipply in front of all the furthest family. But nobody laughed at my lazy nipple that's never as perky as the right or commented on my fat arse.

Thank Danu none of my birth tribe had been chosen and they were all far away in Hartland. Poor Fion was only doing this in front of her bloody sister. I saw her sister looking on really haughtily, all because she is learning the secrets of the future.

Silly cow I much prefer knowing how to love the now. Anyway, doing this ceremony in front of blood family would be really brutal.

It's about ten minutes to the Cromlech stones but took us twenty as Niamah now has to be a decrepit crone and made a massive show of walking bent double and muttering like the mad one.

Once there they made us kneel down on the softest bear furs and bound our hands to the cap stone above our heads, apparently so we could not touch ourselves. By this time I was so bloody gushing the bloody kiss of a soft breeze would have set me off, so I am not quite sure why they bothered.

They must know the hand binding turns some of us on.

So the smelly one, Niamah and Caiomhe positioned the two big wooden winding wheels the fisherfolk use to bring in their nets. One was in front of us and one behind.

Well, those two did bugger all. They told the men how to do it and that helped me no end. Ox stripped to the waist, putting that heavy wheel in place, muscles gleaming with sweat or grease, the vain bugger, was just what I needed.

They must have put this coil of the softest thread on the wheel behind and, smiling like the lascivious old goat he is, the old priest passed it between our legs and connected it to the wheel in front. I swear I saw Brecca try and push against him, the cheating heifer. As they brought in the slack the thread touched me so gently and so right I bloody jumped and I was covered with goose bumps.

That Brecca started moaning straight away, but we all knew she was faking and Niamah pulled her hair back and slapped her face, calling her false.

Then my Ox was put to the big handle that spun the wheel and the thread that was just touching me started to move as it was wound in. Fuck me, it was such a perfect sensation, so soft, yet so relentless. Again and again, where they must have joined the threads the sensation went from softest breeze to rain drop tap. I wanted to push down but I couldn't because of my tied arms. I just fixed my eyes on Ox, straining away in front of me, his beautiful smile filled my dream. I knew I had blotches of red on my neck as the tantalising sensation, never stopping, started to build. It was such a gentle, teasing torment, but I was so close. The drums started to bang, keeping time with spinning of the wheel and flicking of the knots in the thread.

I just focussed on Ox and blocked the world out. I was about to explode with my first little death when instead I just started to giggle.

That's never happened before.

I knew I shouldn't, but I just could not help myself. This whole set-up was beautiful, incredible, full of the sacred meaning of our people but also totally barmy. I tried to hide it but that just made it worse. Aldith saw me and I thought he would be furious. He hobbled up and I thought he would strike me, but the old pervert just winked and gave me a lovely smile and the quickest, subtlest nod.

Poor Ox, on the other hand, panicked. On seeing me start to laugh and knowing how I often can't stop once I start, he tried to distract me in the only way he could.

He started spinning that wheel like a man possessed, driving that teasing, tantalising thread between my legs even faster.

I then truly exploded, but incredibly, laughing at the same time. Screaming with lust and pleasure, crying with laughter, with absolutely no shame and no regrets, as my body was wracked by the never stopping, speeding, softest, knotted thread.

The pressure of the thread increased against me. Later, I found out this was because all the other maids that had been up for the trial had failed and been removed.

Between my all-consuming lust spasms I just had to keep shutting out the image of the smelly priest, furiously pulling in his shrivelled dick as he dreamt this stuff up, or I started to giggle all over again. Somehow I managed to flick open my eyes to see all my furthest family, our best warriors, healers and spirit leaders, watching, totally engrossed and in awe of my giggles and my pleasure and in that moment I knew my job.

Caiomhe was to move up to the mother and the carer, old Niamah was to become the new death crone. She will hate that as she is far too caring, whilst me?

I only have the best job in the world. I am to be the living reminder to the goddess that life between birth and death is to be lived, loved and cruelly and wonderfully ridiculed.

Pretty profound, considering what my poor bits were going through.

The goat skin diary becomes soil damaged here.