It had been a very bad winter. It had been freezing down in the village, and there was no fruit or fresh vegetables of any kind left. All they had was salted meats and tubers, a state of affairs that left Samantha, not accustomed to not getting her own way, very frustrated.
The manor house, up on its lonesome hill, was a perpetual temptation to the people in the town below. The wealthy owners had gone south for the winter, migrating like the birds, and so the place was empty- except for the notoriously brutal servants, who didn't take well to intrusions.
Samantha, however, wasn't inclined to acquiesce to the same conditions her neighbors were, and one evening when the food was particularly loathsome at home she decided to set out and get what she deserved. Putting on her shabby work dress and taking a little metal crowbar she had stolen from the general store with just this adventure in mind, she prepared to break and enter.
She crossed the fence without difficulty, her lithe frame making easy work of the low ornamental wall at the edge of the property. A higher one, around the courtyard, presented some difficulty- but she managed to wriggle over it, at the cost of a few buttons off her dress.
Hopping the wall, she skittered across the lawn- wet but not snowy in these latter days of winter- and towards the golden glowing lights of the manor house. It looked so warm and inviting- this house had electric lights that worked even when the ground was wet, a luxury that Samantha often dreamed of. Her favorite daydream was endless fantasies about rich men coming and taking her away from her boring life in the countryside... and what they would make her do for the privilege of escape. She thrilled a little at the thought, and then angrily shoved her libido aside- she had to focus now.
There was a dark window just below ground level. Perfect, she thought, the scullery. She could hear voices in the dining room, but no one seemed to be in the pantry or in the kitchen.
The window wasn't hard to jimmy. It wasn't even properly locked, she discovered, the pin hopping easily free of its seating when she tapped it with the iron. She slipped the heavy pane up and then slipped silkily into the midnight-dark scullery.
It was everything she wanted. Hanging from the long copper ceiling rails were racks and racks of delicious spices- she breathed in deep the exotic scents. In the corner were bushel baskets of potatoes, peppers, celery, and carrots. And she was sure in those huge cupboards that lined the walls, she would find enough delicious bread- likely fresh-made by the live-in chef- and maybe even, treat of treats, chocolate.
She strode down the kitchen aisle, proud of her own daring. She had shown them- shown them all- that she, Samantha, wouldn't put up with being mistreated. She reached into the basket where the fresh carrots waited and picked one out, lifted it to her mouth, and took a delicious, sensuous bite of the deliciously ripe vegetable.
She took two more steps, mentally preparing herself to steal the place blind, before something came up behind her and grabbed her.
"Thought you'd come in here and rob us blind, hmm?" A voice snarled in her ear. She saw a quick flash and felt cold metal against her throat, pressing up against her jugular, threatening her very life.
She thought she would wet herself. Instead she cleared her throat and said, in a hoarse gasp, "Please, sir..." She didn't know what to say from there.
The figure behind her moved in closer. "A woman, hmm? Well, this isn't a storefront, thieving slut. Shouldn't you be at home with your brats on your tits?"
"No- please- I'm unmarried. I'm very young! I didn't think-"
"You're right you didn't think!" The knife moved away from her throat. "Let's get a look at you..."
A light switch flicked, and suddenly golden light flooded the room. Samantha was suddenly, keenly aware of how much trouble she was in.
The young man who'd caught her was lanky and tall, and his blue eyes devoured her slim figure with the appetite of one who has spent all winter in close quarters with a bunch of other men.
"Please..." she whispered, hoping he'd let her go, "I was hungry."
"Hungry!" He grabbed the front of her dress and pulled it. The fabric held for a moment, then tore, revealing her pale nakedness for the whole world to see. She screamed, but he covered her mouth again, and using his free hand he pulled her bra off and cut her panties right off her trembling hips. "You don't look hungry to me! You look just fine..." He leered, staring at her exposed body.
"Please stop! Don't hurt me!" She tried casting herself on his mercy. It was a bad plan.
"Me? Hurt you? Never!" He acted the part, offended and upset. "Here." He handed her the carrot she had been eating.
"How hungry were you?" He seemed genuinely concerned.
She must have charmed him with her body, she thought. Inside, she exulted. "So, so hungry... never anything worth eating, down in that village."
"I bet..." He was still behind her, and now his hands were roaming, just a bit. "Well, are you still hungry?"
She couldn't believe her luck. Was he going to cook for her? "Yes, very!"
He gently took the carrot from her hand. "Are you hungry enough to try eating the other way around?"
"What?"
Suddenly she felt the blunt tip of the carrot probing someplace very naughty indeed. She jumped up into the air, trying to escape, but when she came down, she found him holding it there. The smooth vegetable slid slickly into her ass, and she was too horrified by the suddenness of his betrayal to even cry out.
He sensed her paralysis and took advantage. Grabbing her hair with his free hand, holding the carrot in her ass with the other, he dragged her out of the pantry, through the kitchen, and- horror of horrors- into the main dining room.
"Look what I found, everybody!' He shouted as they entered, eliciting a howl of horror from Samantha. The room had probably five or ten young men, all clearly having just eaten, bored and probably a little drunk on cheap liquor from the town's general store.
She was instantly the focus of all their attention.
