Fun At The Village Fete Ch 03

Chapter 3: Shepherdess Showdown

Tabitha stood alone at the Shepherdess Display and watched her mother in the distance. She was bored, and the sight of her mother setting up the tables of desserts had been the only thing approaching entertainment. Now, her mother was done, and some other women had approached her. Probably to make small talk, Tabitha thought. Watching it from a distance would be even more tedious than listening to it. But she would do anything to get her mind off her surroundings. She was standing next to some cardboard cutouts of sheep, dressed in a ridiculous shepherdess costume that consisted of an old-fashioned dress with lots of petticoats and a bonnet atop her elaborately curled hair. Sally had insisted that the entire costume be historically accurate, although her historical research was haphazard, so beneath the dress Tabitha wore frilly panties and stockings held up by an old-fashioned garter belt. Her costume was hot and itchy, already stifling in the early morning sun, and there was a manure pile nearby that was starting to smell pretty ripe. Why had she let her mother browbeat her into this dumb fete activity?

"Nice outfit, Tabitha," came a voice from behind her.

Tabitha turned to see Abigail, a girl her age from school. Abigail was slim, with platinum-blonde hair. She was wearing a white blouse and powder blue skirt. Abigail was one of the most popular girls, and her entourage was gathered behind her.

"Abigail! You said you were doing the Shepherdess Display too!" Tabitha remarked, surprised to see Abigail in her typically stylish contemporary clothing instead of a matching costume.

"Oh please, don't tell me you were dumb enough to believe that," smirked Abigail, and then she turned to address her clique of followers. "Hey, everyone, come look at Shepherdess Tabitha!"

"Nice dress, Tabitha," said Harriett. "Where did you get it, the 1700s?" Harriett was wearing a green dress whose cut hugged the curves of her hips and boobs and whose color brought out the slight reddish tinge to her blonde hair, which was gathered in two short braids on either side of her head.

"I don't think pink is your color," remarked Renata. "And bonnets are sooo last century." Renata was Celia's daughter and was wearing a floral dress that matched her mother's. Her light brown hair flung through the air as she tossed her head in laughter.

Abigail's last friend, Danielle, said nothing. A slim, busty and shy brunette, she looked at Tabitha through her glasses with a mixture of pity and contempt.

"It could be worse," Abigail went on. "At least you're not wearing some sort of trampy outfit...like your mother does all the time."

"You bitch!" Tabitha could take it no longer, especially when Abigail brought her mother into it. Tabitha ran at Abigail and tackled her. The two women fell to the ground, with Tabitha on top. Abigail moaned as she felt her body sink into the soft mud, but regained her composure and rolled them over. Now, Abigail was straddling Tabitha. The back of Abigail's hair, top and skirt were dark, wet and sticky with mud. Abigail couldn't see that, but she knew from the damp feeling in her hair and slimy feeling on her back that her hairstyle and outfit were ruined, and she was determined to have her revenge.

Abigail picked up a handful of mud and slapped it into Tabitha's face, then repeated the process with her other hand. Tabitha was dazed, and Abigail too the opportunity to scoop up more mud and rub it into Tabitha's hair until she had turned it into a mucky, grey-brown mass on top of her head. Tabitha came to her senses and grappled with Abigail from below. The two women rolled over and over until they came to a stop in a deeper puddle of mud with Tabitha on top. Tabitha punched Abigail in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and then stood, dripping with muddy water.

Adrenaline rushing, Tabitha saw a figure approach and lashed out. It was Danielle. She stumbled backwards and then fell, her ass landing in the mud muddle and her glasses flying off in another direction. Danielle said nothing, but just sat there and whimpered, as muddy water soaked into her skirt and panties.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit someone with glasses?" Harriett demanded furiously. She charged at Tabitha. The two women grappled and fell to the ground. Tabitha got the upper hand and straddled Harriet's back, pulling on her two braid. Harriet screamed in pain, and Tabitha let go, causing Harriet to smack her own face into the muddy ground in front of her.

Abigail had gotten up and was running towards Tabitha, but when she came near, Tabitha reached up and pulled down her skirt, revealing white cotton panties that were mostly unscathed so far. With her skirt around her knees, Abigail tripped and fell forwards, doing a somersault before she hit the ground.

Tabitha stood again, more slowly this time. She was breathing heavily from her exertions and her costume, now covered with a thick layer of brown mud, was beginning to absorb water. The many layers of fabric, increasingly saturated, were beginning to weigh her down. Renata came at Tabitha, and now she was too sluggish to do anything fancy. But as luck would have it, she grasped the front of Renata's dress and fell to the group, ripping it open in the process. The scraps of fabric that had been her dress fell away, and Renata was clad in nothing more than a red lacy bra and matching thong.

"You cunt!" half-naked Renata hissed, jumping on top of Tabitha and pummeling her with her fists. The blows were chaotic, with most glancing off or missing entirely, but enough of them connected with force to consume Tabitha's attention. In between fending off Renata's blows and trying to squirm out from under her, Tabitha did not see Abigail, Harriett and Danielle come up behind her. By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late. She was surrounded.

Her clothes were thoroughly soaked, so in desperation, Tabitha tried to use her weight to her advantage. She smacked into one woman after another using her whole body, like a sumo wrestler. It worked, but only to a degree. The knocked-down women quickly rose to their feet, albeit muddier than before and reformed a circle around her. Wise to Tabitha's tactics, they nimbly dodged her attempts to knock them down again, and Tabitha, made clumsy by her heavy clothes, couldn't course-correct in time to knock any of them down again. The women closed on Tabitha, and she was lost in a tangle of muddy limbs. Four pissed-off women took out their aggression on her, jabbing and squeezing, smacking and spanking, and smearing and caking her with mud.

Then, Tabitha found herself being held horizontally above the ground. The torment was over--it seemed too easy. And it was.

"Let's throw this bitch in the muck pile," barked Abigail, and Tabitha looked up to see their destination. It was a conical pile of manure, about six feet high. It was some distance off, but thinking about it, she could already smell its foul stench.

"No," begged Tabitha as the women carrying her began to run towards the muck pile. "No, no, no," she pleaded as they picked up speed. They ignored her cries and continued to accelerate until they were only about 10 feet away, when they all stopped dead and let go of Tabitha. "NO, NO, NOOOOOOO" shouted Tabitha as the momentum carried her through the air. But shouting was a mistake, as she sailed, open-mouthed, face-first into the muck pile. Her head broke out the far side, spluttering and trying to get the manure out of her mouth.

Tabitha was now embedded in the muck pile, like a toothpick in a gumdrop. The weight of muck on top of her pinned her down and held her immobile. Tabitha felt as if there was no part of her body not touched by manure. She knew it must be all over her face, and her hair felt like it was full of it too. Travelling through the muck pile had caused manure to go down her cleavage and through the rest of her dress. Somehow, manure had also gotten down the back of her dress, and Tabitha felt like it had collected in the back of her panties. Actually, she realized, there was one part of her that was relatively clean. When the other women had been carrying her, her shoes had fallen off, and her feet had not travelled through the muck heap. The stockings might be muddy, but they were manure-free. But then, Tabitha's hopes were dashed. She felt her shoes, filled with a squishy substance, being placed on her feet. They must have filled them with manure, she realized, and then she began to cry.

"Please," sobbed Tabitha, "please let me out." Tears ran down her face, but they did little to clean the mess there. "I'm sorry. I'll do anything. Just get me out of here."

"Oh, we'll let you out," said Abigail. "Eventually."

Tabitha's wails of despair were met with mocking laughter as the four muddy women made no move to free her from her malodorous confinement.