Quest For Annies Gold Ch 01

Annie and the Woods

Two young fauns--barely more than yearlings--faced each other across the little glade and pawed at the moss and leaves. They grunted, and tossed their tiny antlers in all the threat display they could muster.

Myfwyn sighed. The rut was going to be trying this season. There were too few does. These two would kill each other in an attempt to make room in the tribe. She could let them do it, she knew. She could allow their numbers to drop even further and hope they bounced back next year. It might have been the prudent thing to do. It might have been the rational thing to do. But a dryad's heart is soft to all the forest's creatures.

Even these two idiots.

She couldn't just run them off--they'd be head-to-head against each other in hours. She had to cool their ardor before it killed one or both of them.

The fauns snorted and jumped a little as Myfwyn stepped into the clearing. Though startled, they sensed her appearance as part of the natural order as they always did and calmed instantly. Stepping lightly between the bucks, bare footsteps silent over the forest litter, she entranced both of them with soft sounds and gentle, waving motions of her hands.

Both fauns stepped cautiously forward, following her, the feud forgotten for the moment. Myfwyn walked over to a silver-barked aspen and leaned over, planting one palm against the tree. She spread her feet, displaying herself to her audience. Interested, both smiled big goofy grins and moved towards her cautiously. She opened her petals with her fingers, enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun on her skin and the coolness of the forest breeze on her exposed sex.

~~~***~~~

It is not possible for someone raised around livestock to remain ignorant of the mechanics of coupling. Likewise, growing up in a one-room dwelling presents plenty of opportunity to get acquainted with how the deed is done. Annie had done both of those things, and still she almost gasped when she saw the forest girl assume the position against a tree.

The forest girls were even shyer than deer, very rarely seen for more than a flash. She knew she had to stay and watch as long as she could, no matter how late it might make her getting home. She did not expect to see one offer herself like this! The forest girl had, like most of her kind, brown skin with darker mottling. If they stayed still, they might very well be mistaken for tree trunks to the unwary observer. This one had a full head of green hair, dark from summer, that added to the illusion of being a plant. She was slender as a young maid, an impression backed up by her bald nethers.

A shiver ran through Annie's body. Just watching the forest girl walk made her tingle. What it must be like, to just be naked and free all the time! With her twat aimed directly at Annie's hiding place, there was a breathtaking view of the girl's fingers going to work rubbing herself. Which was fortunate, because if Annie didn't think about it, she'd be loudly panting already.

Annie watched the young fauns approach. She could see one of them already had unsheathed its slender, shiny red dick, curving up towards its belly. Was it really going to mount the forest girl?

Crouched behind a spray of ferns, she hoped she was invisible. As silently as she could, she slipped a hand under her skirt and began to caress her pussy lips as the deer approached...

~~~***~~~

The first buck, a little braver or needier than the other, jumped up onto Myfwyn, hands clamping her tiny waist. He probably outweighed her by a bit, but she took the shock and rocked her hips forward, presenting fully as the faun hurriedly stabbed at her slit, trying to find the opening. In a moment, it slid home, and began pumping frantically, making little mewling sounds as instinct took over. Myfwyn laughed with the joy of it, feeling the spur slide in and out of her like a tongue, slipping on her plentiful nectar. The faun's wheezing pant was hot against her neck as it bowed almost double, covering her.

Annie bit her lip to keep herself from crying out, fingers twiddling rapid circles over the special spot she'd found, but her mother had refused to speak of. The forest girl was taking it from the deer-man! And she looked like she was enjoying it! Her delicate cries sounded like glass chimes, much more dainty than the violent pounding she was enduring. The other faun was sniffing curiously at where the two bodies came together, and its own dick was out, too.

Annie slipped one finger inside her fever-hot cunt, then two, and began to pump herself in time with the buck, imagining what it must be like to receive such a member...

~~~***~~~

The buck was taking longer than she remembered this was supposed to, still pumping away frantic as ever, but yet no seed. Myfwyn looked over her shoulder to see what was the problem just in time to see the second faun step up and mount the first one.

She was forced hard against the tree by the impact and the combined weight of the two satyrs, but had no time to register annoyance before the first buck went off inside her, flooding her cunt with jet after jet of thin, clear semen. He made a pitiful cry--halfway between the bleat of a goat and the honk of a goose--as it emptied itself into her. The second was well on it way to joining the first, hilt-deep in its rival's rectum. A few more pumps and it too cried out, and they both dropped back, releasing Myfwyn to slump against the tree trunk. Despite her attempts to remain detached from the process, she felt her own shiver begin in her legs, and the heat swept over her. Her knees buckled, and she could feel herself blooming, even though it was far past the season.

~~~***~~~

Both fauns rubbed their tired peckers until they retracted back into their bodies, then bounded away--holding hands, Annie noticed. She rapidly lost them, her eyes only for the forest girl, who was still ass-up with her legs spread. She could see the wetness evident from her vantage, the girl's brown cuntlips spread and puffy, and drooling a thin line of liquid onto the moss. So entranced by the seed running out of the forest girl that she didn't quite see when the dryad looked back, right towards her hiding spot.

Pale green eyes, piercing as a wolf's, locked on to hers. The forest girl reached back rubbed her fingers in the mess, and then brought them to her lips and sucked them clean. She stood up and stalked out of the clearing, with a smile and toss of her vivid green hair, now full of little yellow and white flowers, somehow.

~~~***~~~

The sun-hair human girl wouldn't be a problem, Myfwyn knew. She'd seen that one before, walking back and forth on the forest trails to let the Woodsmen catch her.

~~~***~~~

Basket empty, burden lightened to only the coins hidden in the hem of her skirt, Annie put one foot in front of the other on the trail back to the village. Market day was a happy occasion for all, especially to Annie because the Woodsmen were always waiting to take the taxes from all who passed. Annie knew most of them personally. Very personally, since her bosoms had grown in. It was traditional for the villagers to wear their finest to go into town, so that they might seem more prosperous. Annie's own tradition was to wear things that were easy to get out of quickly and easy to wash afterwards.

She didn't have to wait long today. She saw the long, lean form waiting against a tree, idly whittling a twig with one of the many knives they carried about their persons. She didn't recognize this particular Woodsman on sight, but that only gave her the added thrill of a new conquest.

He didn't look up as she approached and set the basket on the trail. "Fair morning, sir," Annie said, letting her eyes roam over the buckskin-clad length of him.

"Toll or tail," the unfamiliar man said, tossing aside the branch he'd been carving.

Annie laughed brightly and stepped out of her skirt, leaving it in the basket. Once, she'd been careful not to let the coins clink, but not once it became obvious that most Woodsman never asked how much money she was carrying. She pulled her blouse over her head, making a show of letting her breasts fall heavily out of it.

If the Woodsman was impressed by the display, he made no show of it. Annie had the biggest ones in her village, but maybe he was used to bigger. He untied the laces on his leather breeches and took out his manhood. Annie felt a pang of disappointment--this one was clearly very young and fit and she wished to see some of those muscles beneath the supple leather--but the afternoon was young.

"Suck," the Woodsman said.

Annie dropped to her knees, taking the cock in hand. It was a little bigger than her father's (who'd taught her how to please a man with her mouth when she turned marriageable age) and much bigger than the one Tom the miller's son had (who everyone presumed would be her husband someday). She licked the tip couple of times, the way all the men she'd been with seemed to like, the eased the funny little hood back and popped the bulb into her mouth.

The Woodsman made none of the little gasps or groans most men did when Annie used her mouth on them, but his prick kept stiffening, Soon, Annie's lips were gliding up and down the veiny shaft, and she made little muffled noises of satisfaction, just to try to set the mood.

Cold grey eyes, like a wolf's, looked down at her as she worked. The Woodsman didn't smile, or say rude things to her, which was Annie's usual experience. He just watched. Annie began to feel a little uneasy. Even her father had called her "his good little cocksucker" before he shot in her mouth, as if he couldn't keep the words in any more than his seed.

"That's enough," the Woodsman said, and pulled himself free from her. He knelt, too. With both of them on their knees, he was still a head taller than Annie. "Ass up," he said. Still seemingly uninterested in the process.

Annie did as she was told, knowing some men liked it better this way. Annie also did as she was told because this was a Woodsman, and they took whatever they liked. More than once, when a farmer had refused to pay, or paid less than the Woodsmen think they owed, they'd come to the village to collect--and "toll or tail" applied there, too. They'd fuck every woman in sight, not respective of age, and not one villager dared to raise a hand to stop them. Any of the men who dared even express dismay were forced to watch. Annie was the only person with yellow hair in the village, but some of the Woodsman had it. She'd never asked her mother, but everyone assumed.

Annie yelped as rough fingers spread her cheeks, revealing her most sensitive parts to the sun and breeze. She heard him spit, and felt the warm wetness on the crack of her ass. She felt the rubbing at her puckered rear entrance, too, and was about to reach back and help guide the cock into her properly when the Woodsman grabbed her hips and pulled, and then it felt like her heart stopped.

He was going in the wrong hole! The Woodsman's cock, which seemed so normal-sized moments ago felt like a tree trunk! Annie gasped, but couldn't take any air in against the searing pain.

~~~***~~~

Myfwyn didn't like to get this close to human towns, but she'd found herself following the sun-hair girl on her errands for the whole season. She'd go into the woods with men, or they'd come find her, and watching the girl couple was pleasing to her. She looked like she was having less fun this time. The forest rangers were the most dangerous kind of human, and it seemed like the sun-hair girl was finding this out for herself. She watched the man push his spur into the girl's rectum, like those fauns had done (and still did, every time she saw them) and she clawed at the dirt and howled like it hurt.

Myfwyn delicately touched herself there as she watched, rubbing gently as sun-hair was touched harshly, and wondered...

~~~***~~~

The Woodsman finally made noise now, huffing with effort as the speed and ferocity of his thrusts built. Annie could think again, the pain had ebbed to an ache, and as she was used like a boy, she became aware of her own reaction. She'd been damp with excitement at the prospect of "paying her taxes" and even though this had gone wrong somehow, she found the excitement hadn't ebbed. Her pussy was responding as if she were fucking normally! She slipped a hand between her legs and rubbed, unable to help it as the felt the Woodsman's cock swelling to its utmost in her poor, abused ass.

She almost missed the grunt as the Woodsman shot, pumping out enough seed for a horse, it must have been. Annie's hand blurred as she felt her own happiness sweep over her. It didn't stop building--she came again and again, moaning out prayers to Agal, Goddess of the Good Harvest until there were no more words, and her vision swam with black spots.

The Woodsman had pulled out of her at some point during that, she didn't exactly remember when. She was lying on her face in the dust, legs still quivering, feeling the slow avalanche of semen oozing down her ass cheek.

"Toll," the Woodsman said, taking her basket and walking off.

"No," Annie tried to say, but mumbled and flopped around trying to get her legs to respond. They were still weak, and by the time she tottered to her feet, the Woodsman had disappeared with her clothes--and all the money she'd gotten from selling what the family had raised in town.

Suddenly conscious of her nakedness, she covered her breasts and bush with her hands, until she realized the futility of it. Where would she go? Back to town? Wait for another traveler to come by who might help her? There was nothing for it, Annie knew, but to walk home. Everyone would see her. Everyone would know instantly what had happened. She started taking the first steps, willing the tears not to come.

~~~***~~~

Myfwyn watched the sun-hair girl leave, with the man's seed still dribbling out of her. She'd seen the girl's plain delight, despite the rough start to the proceedings, but now she was sad for some reason. Tickling her bum while she'd watched them had been pleasant, and Myfwyn began to get A New Idea, though this was not a natural thing for her kind. She followed the sun-hair girl, remaining careful not to be seen.

~~~***~~~

It was around sunset by the time Annie plodded up the path to the middle of the village, which she'd have to cross to get to her home. It was tempting to wait until after dark to try to come in, so fewer people would see, or to try to go around all the outlying fields, but she'd had enough of being naked all day--it hadn't been as fun as she'd hoped--and just wanted to get home. She'd steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

The first laugh, from, Millie the potter's wife, had instantly restarted Annie's sobbing, which she'd thought was well under control. All the men and boys in the village seemed to materialize in moments, and they laughed, too, and then the first calls of "slut!" and "whore!" started.

"She hasn't even wiped herself off!" squealed Tiff, who was almost as pretty as Annie, and also liked the miller's son.

Something happened as the village enjoyed themselves at her expense. The familiar tingle started in her cunt. Every hurtful name they called her was like a caress. By the time her father appeared and grabbed her by the wrist, roughly dragging her to their cottage, Annie was as wet and ready as she had been when the Woodsman had gotten his cock out.