Grace and Owen
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Rape, Magic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, High Fantasy, Science Fiction, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Big Breasts, Prostitution,
Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Grace meets Owen in a snowbound cabin after escaping pursuers in a snow storm and becoming lost. Owen has also escaped those chasing him in a separate storm. Problems crop up at the cabin that require them to work together to solve them, but the question that remains is where they will go and what they will do when the storm is over.
The following characters appear through the entire story:
Heroine, former prostitute, 5'-2'' tall, 110 pounds, 34D-22-34, 21 years old, alabaster skin, long flaming red hair, bright green eyes, some freckles, very cute, has a large but untrained Talent and no knowledge of Magic
Blacksmith, occupier of the house, 5'-9'' tall, 150 pounds, 25 years old, light auburn hair, gray eyes, quite handsome, has a large but untrained Talent and no knowledge of Magic
"They're still behind me," I thought in desperation, as I continued to hurry through the deepening snow. They had been following me for some time now even though I had taken many turns and crossed many streets, but still they followed me. I could sense them behind me even now.
The storm had intensified since I had left the last shelter in the city. I had tried all of the women's and children's shelters, but they had all been full because of the storm. I had even tried all of the men's shelters, but had been rebuffed at them also and for a good reason.
"No, girly, you can't stay here. It wouldn't be healthy for you," those in charge had told me, as those there had leered at me. I had even tried the various churches in the downtown area of the city and the Salvation Army, but none of them were allowing anyone to remain there overnight anymore because of previous vandalism. I had even tried the new YWCA, but not only were they full, they would want money to stay there, money that I didn't have.
I had been followed to all of those places, but nothing had been done by those following me because of the presence of the people in those locations. However, I was aware that the number of those following me had increased while I was thus engaged.
Now with all of the attempts to lose them, I was thoroughly lost, and the storm was making it very difficult to see even a short distance ahead of me. The snow swirled around me in the constantly shifting wind and settled on everything only to be swept up again by the constant wind. My high top, button up shoes were soaked already, and my feet were frozen making it difficult to walk on the snow-covered ground especially since I was unable to see the patches of ice under it, patches which increased the difficulty of walking.
There was snow in my hair, and it covered the small hat that I wore. It also covered much of my wool coat and because of my body heat had it begun to melt into it as well.
Beside the swirling snow, there was the dense fog that hampered vision. It also made it dark enough that it was impossible to tell where I was. I needed to find shelter of some kind, or I would surely freeze to death tonight, and that presumed that those following me hadn't caught up to me by then. I wasn't sure which would be the worst alternative.
I knew that I needed to keep moving and trying to find shelter ... any shelter. I clung to the carpet bag that held my few other possessions. I would need the dry clothing in there if I ever found a place to stay and could get out of the wet ones that I was wearing now and dry them out.
By now, I was so tired and cold that I didn't know if I could go any further when suddenly the storm seemed to slacken and the fog to melt away some allowing me to see where I was, but I had never seen anything like what was in front of me in the city before.
What I could now see was a number of small houses on a snow-covered street. There appeared to be other rows of houses behind them, but they were more difficult to see since it was foggier behind the first row of houses. Even at that, most of those in the first row appeared to be empty at present. There was only a light in the first house of the row, and I could see smoke coming from its chimney. I hurried toward it and the protection it offered.
As I drew closer, I could see that it wasn't really a regular house, but what would have been called a cabin where I had grown up in Kentucky. Still, it was a fine looking cabin with regular wood siding, a chimney with smoke coming from it, and several windows, one of which was the one at the front of the house with the light visible in it.
There were two snow covered steps that led up to the deep porch that ran across the front of the house. The porch was somewhat less covered in snow than the steps were, especially back near the door. I gained the porch with only a little difficulty, and moved to knock on the outer door there. My hands were so cold that it hurt to knock and the thin gloves that I had on diminished the sound of my knocking.
I was ready to remove the glove on my right hand and knock again when I heard someone moving inside the house and shortly the inner door creaked as it was opened, and a man appeared.
"Please, sir, could I come in for a short time to warm up?" I pleaded. He smiled and pushed the outer door open against the thin layer of snow that far back on the porch.
"Please do come in, Miss," he invited, "It's much too stormy to be out today."
"Thank you," I breathed in relief, hoping that those following me wouldn't see me enter the house, and come after me.
"What's your name, Miss?" the man asked as I entered.
"I'm Grace O'Malley. I'm afraid that I became lost in the storm," I told him. The house seemed very warm to me, having just come in from the cold and the storm outside, but I saw that he was dressed in a heavy wool shirt and thick corduroy pants as well as felt house shoes. I also noticed that he was tall at about 5'-9'', but was not overly heavy. His light auburn hair was a bit darker than my red hair, and his eyes appeared to be gray in the lamp light.
"Thank you for allowing me into your house. How should I address you?" I finally remembered to ask him.
"I'm Owen, as to the house, that's a bit of a tale I'm afraid. Come in and sit by the stove after you remove your coat and hat, and I'll tell you about how I came to be here," he told me, indicating the stove sitting at the back of the large room that constituted the main part of the house. He also brought the kerosene lamp that had been by the front window with us as we moved toward the warmth of the stove, which was the type that I had seen used to heat the main parlor in many houses.
I could see that the cabin was divided into a number of areas. There were several chairs gathered near the stove and there was a table for food preparation and eating near it as well. A small counter contained the sink and the water pump. On the opposite side of the cabin was a large bed, a small chest of drawers and a blanket chest which sat at the foot of the bed. There was also a set of screens for changing clothes behind, folded now against the wall. A small door led to a separate area where I presumed the toilet facilities were located.
Near the front door was a small sofa with a bookcase that the lamp had been on plus there were a number of books in it. I however was only interested in the stove and the heat that it produced. As we approached the stove, I could see that it was a Glenwood Parlor Stove and that it could burn either coal or wood. Owen had further questions for me as we neared it.
"May I take your coat and hat? I'll hang them behind the stove and its chimney pipe to dry out," he explained. Being near the heat of the stove, I quickly agreed, and he assisted me in removing my coat. I removed my gloves and hat myself and handed them to him.
"Please take the comfortable chair nearest the stove, Miss Grace," he asked as he hung up my coat and placed the gloves on a separate wooden hanger and the hat on another to hang them near the stove pipe also. I eased down onto the cushions of the large chair there by the stove and nearly passed out, as I hadn't realized that I was so tired. The relief that I felt at being out of the storm and away from those pursuing me was so tremendous that I was nearly ready to cry. And I was more tired than I had thought. I had dropped the carpet bag near the chair and he noticed it there.
"Do you have anything else that requires drying out?" he asked, as he returned from hanging up my other things. I was about to tell him that I didn't when my nearly frozen feet called my attention to them.
"I should remove my shoes so they can dry out also," I told him.
"Certainly, and probably your stockings as well. They are probably as wet as the shoes appear to be," he said from beside my chair.
"Yes, I have other stockings in my bag," I told him, as I bent to remove my shoes. However, my fingers were still so cold that I couldn't work the many small buttons on the shoes loose, and I started to cry in frustration, disgust, and anger at my inability to unbutton the shoes.
"Here, allow me to help you," he requested seeing my problem.
"Yes, please, my fingers are too numb to work the buttons," I answered in frustration. He knelt and began unbuttoning my wet shoes. He soon had them off.
"I'll set these over neat the rear of the stove so they dry out, but not too near so they don't shrink being leather. You should change your stockings and perhaps your dress as well since the bottom of it is also rather wet," he told me.
"Yes, can I change behind the screen?" I inquired.
"Surely, give me a minute, and I'll have it set up for you," he answered, moving over to set up the screen after finishing with my shoes. In the meantime, I had pulled off my cold wet wool stockings and hung them on the arm of the chair temporarily.
Owen soon returned with a towel and another pair of felt house shoes.
"Here, dry your feet off before you try these on, " he told me handing me the towel, which was fluffy but not too large; it was about right for drying your hands or face with, or your feet. It felt very good to massage my feet with the towel and to get the blood flowing in them again. Soon my feet were relatively dry if still cold, and when I handed him the now very damp towel, he handed me the house shoes. Much to my amazement, they were a fairly good fit, as they were much smaller than the pair that he had on since his feet were much larger than mine.
"I'll carry your bag for you," he volunteered after hanging the towel near the stove also. He helped me up before picking up the bag and escorting me over to the area of the screen.
"I'll leave you here to change while I get some more coal for the stove," he told me in a nervous voice, and I wondered what could be wrong, but he was gone before I could ask. Gripping the handle on my bag, I dragged it behind the screen with me.
The bag had protected the things in it, and I had soon donned fresh stockings and my other dress while hanging the wet one over the screen. When I emerged dress in hand, Owen had finished adding the coal to the stove, but had closed the damper some, and I noticed that it wasn't as warm in here as I had first thought it was. There was also a shawl over the arm of the chair that I had been sitting in.
"You might want that also," he told me pointing to the shawl, as I reached the chair.
"Thank you, that's very considerate," I told him before looking at the chair again.
"Is this your chair?" I asked looking at him.
"It isn't important, I can sit anywhere."
"I don't want to take your chair, it's your house after all." He looked very startled on hearing this, but took my damp dress and hung it up before saying anything further.
"Do sit down," I suggested after hanging up her dress. When we were both seated I began my explanation.
"About the house ... well, maybe cabin is closer to the truth," I began. "I found it yesterday, as I too had become disoriented in the storm and wondered about for a time until I finally found not just this cabin but a number of them arranged in rows. I went to this one first to see if anyone was here, and if I could stop here for a short time.
"When I stepped onto the porch, I found a sign with my name on it. A sign that said that I was welcome to use the cabin for as long as I liked. It was really strange to not only find a cabin in the storm, but one with a sign welcoming me specifically.
"I knocked at the door but there was no answer, so after a time I tried the door, and it opened. I entered and found the stove already warm. There was food and fuel for the kerosene lamp already set out. The water pump worked, and there was even clothing that fit me lying on the bed.
"I changed clothes and ate after hanging up my cold, wet clothing. Even the felt house shoes fit me. I've been here for an entire day now, but you're the first person that I've seen. I even left the light in the window all of yesterday and today as a signal. I can't explain it," I finished somewhat frustrated.
While sitting there I had noticed that Grace O'Malley was a fine looking young woman. While short at around 5'-2'' tall, her flaming red hair was somewhat lighter than my own auburn hair. She appeared to be a bit thin but had large breasts, and those sparking green eyes seemed to take in everything. She was also very cute. I was definitely glad to have some company, especially a lovely young lady, as I was sure that she wasn't more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old. She just sat there looking at me for a short time after I had finished.
"You don't know who this cabin belongs to then?" she finally asked.
"No, I have no idea and could find nothing here to indicate who owned it."
"Surely they will return shortly. What will we do then?" she asked in a voice betraying dread.
"What can we do? I saved the sign from the porch and can show them that. Perhaps I can work off the cost of the food and the coal that we use. I'll just have to see," I told her.
"We can work it off if necessary," she told me, and I felt very warm on hearing her words.
We had been sitting there by the stove for a short time after that, and I had warmed up considerably, when the mantle clock struck five times.
"It's five o'clock," he told me, "time that supper was started."
"Have you pots and pans plus the food?" I asked.
"Yes, there is all of the necessary cooking equipment, and we can cook on top of the stove as it has two lift out cook covers," he told me.
I turned to take a better look at the stove, as I had only paid a little attention to it previously. It appeared to be similar to the various parlor stoves that I had seen in numerous houses back home. This one, however, lacked the ornate cast-in decorations found on most of the older stove models, and it was a coal burning stove, as the coal hod right there next to it proclaimed, though it was only partly full at present. There was also an ash can there to place the ashes in when cleaning out the stove.
It was obviously a Glenwood Modern, as those words were cast into the front door of the unit. It also had a side loading door for use with wood. The large distinctive final on the top had been removed and sat on the counter not far away. The nickel-plated foot rail in the front was quite warm, but I hadn't put my feet on it when I came in as it was much too warm for my frozen feet. I had instead placed them on the floor near the skirt of the stove to gradually warm up.
"I'll make supper if you'll show me where things are located," I volunteered.
"Certainly," he agreed, and we both rose to move over to the counter with the sink. It had drawers and doors under it and there were cabinets above a part of it with several doors also.
"The various utensils are in the drawers, and the pots and pans are in the first set of doors under them. The second set of doors hold bins with the various vegetables in them and also the meat which is smoked ham. The food holding area is colder than the rest of the cabinet. There are flour, honey, sugar, tea, and other items in the cabinets above the counter as well as the dishes, plates, cups, and mugs," he informed me.
"What would you like to eat?" I asked.
"The choice of available food is a bit limited, but some vegetables and ham with bread and tea would be nice," he told me.
"All right, I'll get started in a minute. Do you know if there is an apron?" I asked.
"Yes, there are several over in the clothing drawers. I'll get you one," he volunteered. I opened the first set of doors and removed a pot and an iron skillet, placing them on the counter before opening the second set of doors to look at the vegetables. There were a number of bins in this space, and I selected some peas, carrots, green beans, potatoes and onions as well as several slices of smoked ham to make for dinner. I also noted that there was a brick of butter in there.
After shelling the peas, cleaning and cutting up the carrots, and snapping the ends off the green beans, I added water to the pot they were in and moved it over to the stove. Owen had delivered the apron to me while I was selecting the vegetables, and then he had swung the top of the stove to the side revealing its cooking surface. Removing one of the lids with the handle that I had found among the cooking utensils, I sat the pot in place and then placed the potatoes directly on the cooking surface of the stove as we had no oven.
There was a small crock with lard in it on the counter, and I spooned some out, adding it to the skillet before placing it on the second cooking location after removing its lid. When the lard melted, I added the smoked ham and cut up the onion to add just before the ham was done.
Owen had removed several plates, a bowl and eating utensils from the upper cupboards and the drawers, as well as setting out the bread, tea, and sugar while I was busy. He had also opened the dampers on the stove so it would burn hotter while we cooked. There was a copper pot for water on the counter, and I filled it part way to heat for our tea. I had to admit that the cabin was well equipped for cooking and had all of the cooking utensils that I needed.
The food was soon ready. I had added the onions to the ham and everything but the potatoes was ready. I put the vegetables in a dish and the ham and onions on a plate. The copper pot went on one of the cooking spaces, and the potatoes were moved from the edge of the cooking surface to the center after replacing the other lid. Since the bread and butter were already on the table, we were ready to eat. Owen moved the kerosene lamp to the table as I placed the food on it.
We sat across from each other for the meal, and I said grace before we started to eat. It was while I wasn't busy any longer, that I noticed the storm again. Actually it was hard to miss it in the quiet as we ate. From the sounds, we could tell the wind had increased in its fury, and you could hear the sleet as it hit the windows and the side of the house.
"It's gotten worse, if that's possible," Owen assured me as we sat enjoying our tea following the meal. He rose then to go over to the stove and return the dampers to their previous positions. After he resumed his seat, he had a question for me, one that I wasn't expecting.
"Do you have any idea who you are named after, Grace O'Malley?"