"Because you trusted me. I know more than you do about the Wyrm and the Maidensdoom stone, yet you were willing to take the risk with me."
"Are you going to tell me more about the legend?"
"Only after tonight. You trusted me. You don't need to know more --yet."
The rest of the day we spent exploring Maidensdoom house, making lists of jobs to be done, things to be changed, things to be restored. That evening we went to one of the local restaurants, by taxi, so that we could enjoy wine with our meal. We arrived back at the house at ten o'clock.
"I'll have to change, Duncan," Sylvia announced. "I want to be comfortable at midnight, and accessible."
She winked at me.
"I suggest old clothes for you. Clothes you can take off easily..."
She disappeared upstairs.
"See you here at half past eleven," her voice floated down.
I shaved, showered and changed into jeans and a fleece jacket. I stuffed some cable ties into a pocket. I had checked that they were long enough to secure Sylvia to the Maidensdoom stone.
She wasn't on time. I was pacing the hall when Sylvia swept down the stairs. She was wearing a gypsy blouse over a long flared skirt. She pulled at the sides of the skirt and swirled it around her.
"See," she said, "easily lifted for immediate access. Ready?"
"Ready," I replied.
"Let's go."
She held out her hand. I took it and we walked out of the front door. I shut it but didn't lock it. We were so far from the village, and even in the village people didn't lock doors.
It took us just a few minutes to climb to the Maidensdoom stone. In the moonlight it looked far more sinister than in bright sunlight. I looked at my watch. It read ten minutes to midnight.
"Duncan. Are you going to secure the maiden?"
I produced the cable ties as she spread herself across the stone. I looped a tie around a projection and an ankle, pulled it just enough to lock, not to cut into to Sylvia's skin. I repeated that on her other ankle.
Sylvia grabbed her skirt and pulled it up to her chin. Even in the moonlight I could see trimmed evidence that Sylvia's red hair was natural. What had the doggerel said?
Be she winsome, be she fair, Be she blonde, or red of hair,
Sylvia was winsome, fair as in beautiful and certainly red of hair. But the verse went on:
Be she eighteen or much mair, Mother, crone -- Rash man, beware!
Sylvia is well over eighteen years old, but why should I beware? I was securing her to the Maidensdoom stone. What risk was I taking? Surely she was the one in danger?
I stood back as Sylvia tested her bonds. It was two minutes to midnight. I wouldn't need arousing. My prick had been standing to attention from the moment she took my hand. I shed my jeans and boxers, then the rest of my clothing. I knelt between her legs. Sylvia flinched as my hand stroked her bush then bucked slightly upwards against the hand. My watch second hand moved towards midnight. As it reached twelve I eased my erection into Sylvia's willing body.
There was a tearing sound as if a plough was ripping the earth beside us. A mist formed on all sides, cutting off any vision except upwards. Sylvia shouted:
"Yes!"
My head started spinning as if I was very drunk. Although still thrust deep into Sylvia I seemed to be pushing upwards instead of down. Sylvia's face appeared above me. How? She was secured face up on the stone.
She wasn't. I was. My cable ties were holding my wrists, my ankles, not hers. I was the captive. I wasn't tupping her. She was tupping me, riding me. She had grown larger. Her face shouldn't be above mine while we were still coupled. She wasn't tall enough. She was now. She grew larger still. Instead of looking at her face I was looking at her neck, her shoulders. She ripped her gypsy blouse open. Her breasts were hanging either side of my face and lowered. My mouth and nose were in her cleavage.
"Now you know, Duncan. The maiden becomes the Wyrm. And the Wyrm claims her victim, the man rash enough to tup on the Maidensdoom stone."
I might have responded. I couldn't. I was struggling to breathe between her enfolding breasts. I gasped as she raised herself enough for me to grab a breath. They lowered again.
"Oops!" Sylvia said calmly, "I forget this part."
She lifted her breasts again, shrugged off her blouse, screwed it up and stuffed it into my gasping mouth. She knotted the sleeves behind my head, gagging me. Her breasts surrounded my head again, this time leaving my nose clear to breathe.
Sylvia's pussy pulsed around me. I couldn't hold back and thrust upwards, ejaculating into her.
"Good boy! Well done!" she said.
Her pussy continued to clutch me and my erection returned unnaturally quickly. I came into Sylvia again and again, uncontrollably. She was draining me. She didn't relent for a long time but finally she let me rest, still held inside her.
"I can tell you now, Duncan, what Maidensdoom means. It isn't doom to the Maiden. It is the older meaning of the word 'doom'. That was 'judgement'. The Maiden becomes the Wyrm and judges the man who tups her. However he tied her, so is he tied. However he treated her, so he is treated. You have been doomed by this Maiden."
I tried to struggle against my bonds. All I did was sink my nose into a soft breast.
"Too late, Duncan. As the Wyrm I control you totally. I am larger than you, stronger than you, and I have an important part of you firmly held."
Sylvia's pussy contracted again. She sat back, allowing me to see her face in the moonlight.
"But you have nothing to fear. I wanted you. You trusted me. You risked the Maidensdoom stone to please me, because you wanted me. Instead I have you. This Maiden has decided your doom. You will be mine. No. That's not right. You ARE mine. And the Wyrm's. For the rest of our lives I can raise the Wyrm at any time. I don't think I'll need to. I think you will be a satisfactory husband and father without the surrender the Wyrm could enforce. You will marry me, won't you? All you have to do, all you can do, is nod..."
I nodded. I had wanted Sylvia for years. A Sylvia who wanted me? I couldn't refuse. I nodded again.
Sylvia's tears trickled down her face and dripped on mine. She bent down and kissed my forehead. Her hands struggled to untie the blouse gagging me. She pulled out the sodden mass of material and her lips eagerly met mine. She had begun to shrink back to her normal size and I had to lift my head to keep our lips together.
The cable ties dropped away. I brought my arms to surround her as she rested her head on my shoulder. She sighed gently as the mist faded away, exposing our linked bodies on the Maidensdoom stone.
We stayed there, wrapped around each other for at least an hour. We climbed off the Maidensdoom stone, dressed as best we could and walked back to the house with our arms around each other. We went upstairs, to the same bed, and coupled again and again.
The power of the Wyrm gives me strength to continue much longer, to recover quickly, to do enough to satisfy Sylvia at her most demanding, but only when Sylvia invokes that power.
I have been 'doomed' and found acceptable.
If I had not been?
Sylvia told me the rest of the legend. If a man is doomed by the Maiden he has tupped on the Maidensdoom stone and is NOT acceptable, or has raped an unwilling Maiden on it, she can decide that he will never have an erection again with anyone, and he could be left tied to the Maidensdoom stone for days.
Even if she spares him those fates, any attempt to rape another woman would lead to him being dragged by invisible hands back to the Maidensdoom stone and tied there for another 'doom' to be given by the woman he tried to rape.