Ashlyn swiped at a lock of hair that clung persistently across her sweat soaked brow. The day was hot and sticky and her work here made it all the more grueling. Her corse cotton gown felt heavy and cumbersome, the shade of brown darkened where the water of her labors had soaked through it. She bent over again, her small but calloused fingers gripping at the fence post she was attempting to pull from the ground. She pulled with all her might, the tendons in her neck standing out as if she were a pretty but ill used plow horse. The post slid out of the ground another few inches, then the piece she had in her hands broke off, and she tumbled back with a small shriek of frustration.
"The Devil take this worm rotted fence and my Da' along wi' it" She cursed as she lay back against the ground panting, her disturbed skirts revealed shapely long legs beneath the shapeless dress she wore.
Ashlyn was immediately overcome with guilt for her words and closed her eyes with thoughts of what Father Thomas of the village would say of her blasphemous thoughts. The girl was obviously a peasant, no lady would be sent at such a mean task. In fact it was unusual for a young girl to be out doing this sort of work as it was. However, these were hard times and her father was cursed only to have daughters. A fact that of late he was feeling keenly as he struggled to keep up with the local Baron's heavy taxes on their fief. Her father had gone from a loving and doting man to a short tempered fiend who drank a bit too much and used his switch on the girls with little provocation. The fact that he had sent his favorite girl, his red haired beauty of a daughter who had a shape that had the boys from the village sniffing around often, on such a masculine task as pulling old fence poles bespoke greatly of his desperate state of mind. She heaved a heavy sigh as she got back to her feet and again began tugging at the post wishing that the last mule hadn't died in the winter this year.
.....
The sun had fallen in the sky before Ashlyn dared begin walking back to her home. She knew if she came before dark with the task incomplete she would likely face the switch across her very sore bottom. In fact, every part of her body was sore and achy from the days labor. Her face was streaked with tears from when she had finally given in and cried. Her hands were a jungle of splinters and cuts. As she crested the hill she was almost too tired to notice that something was wrong. Indeed it took her a moment to stop her stumbling trudge forward. The small and broken hut that her father, mother and two younger sisters lived in was ablaze! The sky lit with the unnatural light of the fire and in the glow she could see the devilish silhouettes of armed men on horses riding about the disaster! She let out a cry and ran forward instinctively. However, as she neared the inferno, she stopped, and ducked back behind some scrubby brush.
She had seen something that terrified her. There was a body on the ground near the front door that could be no one but her father. More shocking than that, her mother was on the ground as well, laying on top of a pile of washing that had spilled into the dirt. One of the soldiers was on top of her and she was screaming. Ashlyn's mind swam with confusion. Her first thought had told her that the cottage had caught on fire by accident and the Baron's men were helping to put out the blaze. Her innocent mind slowly grasped the fact that the Baron's men had set the blaze themselves. She lay there face down in the dirt, panting and trying to make herself small. She heard the sobs from her mother as the soldier violated the woman. She peeked her head around unwilling to watch but unable to help herself. Her mother was an older women who was pretty and petite. In her days she had been quite the village beauty. Now years of hard work made her look older than her age. The man was on top of her, fully dressed in his armor except his cod piece which had been pushed aside. Her mothers corse dress had been ripped to the waist, her tattered corset slit open baring her white heavy breasts. The man grunted as he savagely thrust against the woman's upraised skirts. His hands roughly pinched and kneaded the woman's heavy tits. Her head was thrown back and every time the man griped her breasts and slammed his body forward into her she screamed out her agony.
