Dawn rose over the convent and Catherine was late to rise but this morning, no one took notice. There was much to do, work to be done. Catherine slipped on her plain cotton shift and tied an apron around her chest and waist. She swept back her long silky locks of hair into a quick bun and gathered up her chore basket. Tuesdays were always the same at the convent, as were Wednsdays and Thursdays and every other day. Today she would go to the market at Ambra and buy what spices and items the convent needed that it did not grow in the convent's garden. There would be salt to buy, and rosemary, parsely and knitting yarn made by a craftswoman in the village. Today, she looked over the list of items to buy and it was far more extensive than the usual weekly fare. Surely this was due to Father Hellarti's presence at the convent.
The sisters would make the best meals for the table while he was here, and surely they would want to send him with gifts for the Bishop whom he was close to. Catherine bit her lip and counted out the money she had been left to buy the items with. Ten francs. It was a good sum, and more than she was used to spending at the market. She placed the money in the pocket fold of her skirt and started down the path toward the stables where she would take Belle, the horse she often used to go to the village. Walking along the path, she thought of Belle, such a pretty horse, and she wondered if some day she could perhaps make enough money to buy Belle, so she could take her riding more often.
It wasn't likely, since Catherine rarely made any money at all. There were plenty of times though that on her market trips to the village, the bustling merchants, strolling men of the plaza and sometimes the wives, would place coins in her hand and tell her she was pretty. Coins to buy candy and ribbons with. Once an elderly man had placed a franc in her hand and said he would let her keep it if he could seeup her dress. Catherine couldn't imagine why the old man would be so fascinated with what was up her dress and thought it couldn't do harm, so she had lifted her skirts and let the old man have a look. He seemed satisfied and rubbed the front of his pants. She wondered if he had to pee. She asked the old man if he was well, and did he need to relieve himself? He seemed shaky and his hands withered and spotted. She felt sorry for him. Looking at the front of his pants she saw the laces of his breeches and she guessed the problem. The old man probably could not even open his own trousers to relieve himself, his hands were so bent. She offered to help him, and the old man looked surprised and said he would like help indeed.
Catherine had taken the old man behind the blacksmith's shop and had helped him to loosen the fastening of his breeches. The old white haired man looked at her and she knew he must be terribly embarrassed that he needed help with such a simple task, but she understood. Many of the elderly sisters at the convent had rickety hands and had given up knitting and sewing because they could not use their hands anymore. There was no shame in it, just a product of age. Catherine was determined to help the old man. She reached into his breeches and took out his limp and withered penis, long and thin with age. She aimed it to the grass and felt the man relieve himself and then groan a sigh of relief. She put the old man's penis away and saw him smile at her. She had been glad to perform charity and had felt better about herself that day.
Now, as she walked down the path, she wondered how much she could save if she never spent any of the money she was given in the village. Enough to buy Belle? Perhaps, but it would take a while. Sheapproached the stable and saw a beautiful white horse being scrubbed down by the new stable boy undoubtedly. The former stable boy had been replaced just days ago by a new one. She wondered who he was and if perhaps she could make a friend. She started to move closer through the trees when she got a clear view of the new stable boy. Only he was not a boy at all. This man stood very tall and was powerfully muscled, with a broad chest and thick arms and thighs. She moved to the side of a thick tree trunk and watched the man work in secret for a long moment. He was unusually handsome, with golden blond hair and chiseled features. He was perhaps thirty years old. Catherine continued to watch him scrub the horse and his movements fascinated her. He moved the brush roughly over the horse's hide and poured streams of soapy water from a bucket. He was graceful in his movements, powerful and almost- majestic. He did not look like a stable man, but more like a Celtic warrior. As she watched him, she felt a strange longing stirring in the pit of her belly. Catherine imagined what it might be like to be that horse. To be scrubbed so roughly by strong capable hands, perhaps to be stripped naked and soaking wet, then scrubbed down and mounted roughly. She wondered in this daydream, what the stable man's penis looked like. She could see his tight fitted breeches and the generous bulge in the loin of them. She wondered what it would be like to feel that penis inside of her instead of Father Hellarti's penis...
She was snapped out of her reverie by a man's voice,
"Aye lass- ye lost?"
The stable man spoke to her and to her absolute horror, she realized that in her fantasies she had actually moved her hand up her skirt and was rubbing her fingers over that pleasure nub between her thighs! Her face flushed hot and red. She felt the heat of it in her neck and breast. Nervously, she thought of what to do.
I shall simply pretend it was not happening, that I was fumbling with my skirt hem- perhaps a bramble bush thorn was attached to it-
Catherine started toward the man and began to realize what a giant he was. It intimidated her, but excited her as well. She did her best to smile and be polite,
"No, I am from the convent. I am here to borrow a horse. I always ride Belle. The Abbess sends me to market this day."
"Ye was fumblin' wit' yourself, I saw it, I did." He said flatly, but not without a hint of interest in his eyes.
"Oh no, there was a thorn in my skirt, I had to remove it. I got my skirt caught on a plant of some kind..."
The giant of a man smiled down at her and nodded,
