Pelle the Collier
Chapter 7: How The Black Man Ravishes Ingeburg

Copyright© 2012 by Argon

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 7: How The Black Man Ravishes Ingeburg - This is the story of Pelle the Collier; how he saved Birkenhain lands and avenged his father and his liege lord. It is also the story of Ingeburg, the late Baron's beautiful bastard daughter, who was banned from the castle as a small girl. 14th century fiction!

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Historical   Cuckold   First   Pregnancy  

Pelle rose from the bed when the first sun rays shone over the trees. Awakened by his movements, Ingeburg looked at him as he put on buckskin pants, a wool shirt, and a leather vest. He pulled on boots too and took one of his new longbows from a peg and a quiver with arrows.

“Whereto so early, Pelle?” she asked sleepily.

He came back to the bed and gave her a kiss.

“I’m off to hunt deer, Ingeburg. We’re running short of meat, and the Baron allows me a deer each month now. A young buck or a doe will make a fine roast, and we can smoke the rest.”

“How long will you be? Shall I prepare a noon meal?”

“I hope to be back by noon, but I can’t tell for sure.”

“Have you something to break fast?”

He held up a knapsack.

“I have some bread. Wish me luck, Wife!”

She kissed him for luck, and off he was. With the stealth of a practised woodsman, Pelle made his way north. He knew of a clearing, deep in the forest, where roe deer often stood in the morning hours, and thereto he was heading. It had been a good two moons since he had hunted last, and he was eager to test his new bow. The yew staff required more power than his old ash bow but Pelle was a strong man. A few test shots had shown him that his accuracy did not suffer under the greater power of the new bow and he guessed that he gained half again over his old range.

Closing in on the grassy open he moved with great care. He tested the wind and redirected his approach so that he went against it. It was luck that he did. When he reached the tree line he suddenly found himself just thirty paces away from a small herd. The buck carried three-pointed antlers and was in his prime. There were seven does and eight or nine fawns in the group, and a young buck was grazing at the fringes, always keeping an eye on the dominant buck.

Whilst Pelle watched the small herd and readied his bow and arrows, the old buck chose to prance forward driving the young buck away and, incidentally, closer to where Pelle was hiding. Pelle would have liked to test his new bow at larger distance but this was a good opportunity, too good to be wasted.

With smooth, practised moves he notched a broadhead arrow and pulled back. Allowing for a flatter trajectory due to the greater speed imparted by the new bow, Pelle aimed lower than was his custom and let fly. A new arrow was on the string before he looked at his prey. The young buck was still standing, but only barely. It tottered back and forth with the arrow deep in his chest behind the shoulder. Then, very slowly, the mortally wounded animal sank down on its fore knees before it collapsed dropping to its right side.

The rest of the herd was already fleeing with the big old buck in the lead and Pelle stepped out from the underbrush. He pulled his long hunting knife and slit the throat of the buck to let it bleed out. He also cut away the scent glands near the anus and made an incision to recover his arrow. Whilst he watched the animal bleeding out, he ate some of the bread he had brought. Then he shouldered his prey and headed homeward to his cabin. He was very pleased with the outcome. Whilst not as tender as a doe, the buck yielded more meat and a larger skin. The antlers, too, would come in handy as hefts for various tools.

In spite of the load on his shoulders he made good speed on his way back to the cabin and it was a long way from noon when he entered the clearing. From afar he could see that Ingeburg was busy doing laundry in the creek and he smiled. She really wasn’t a bad girl. She tried her best to do her part, and even if she lacked a few skills he was certain that she would eventually overcome her upbringing.

In the bed she already surpassed Pelle’s wildest dreams. She was beautiful, yes, but there was more. Her eagerness to please and be pleased was astounding in a girl so young and inexperienced, and she gave herself to him with complete abandon. Just thinking of her naked body made his member swell.

She saw him as he approached and shielded her eyes against the sun, obviously ready to bolt for the cabin. Pelle was pleased with her cautious reaction. When she was sure it was him however, she dropped her laundry and came running. He dropped the buck off his shoulders and opened his arms just as she threw herself at him.

“You’re back already! And you were lucky, too! I’ll pick some berries to go along with the venison.”

Pelle smiled at her childlike joy. She was but seventeen years old he reminded himself, and he could hardly expect the stolidness of a matron in her. He hugged her tightly and gave her a long kiss. Her eyes were smouldering when he let go.

“I need to butcher the buck,” he said with regret in his voice. “The skin needs curing too. We’ll have to wait until tonight.”

Ingeburg looked at little dismayed. “I’m sorry, I did not mean...”

“I wanted it, too, Ingeburg,” Pelle told her giving her another kiss.

Ingeburg nodded. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, did you learn to butcher?”

“No, I wasn’t allowed.”

It hurt Pelle to see her obvious dismay over her lack of skills, and he touched her cheek. “I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”

That afternoon, Pelle taught Ingeburg the use of a skinning knife. He also showed her how to sharpen a knife, how to cut a buck open, how to gut it, and how to cut it into the various parts. He showed her what the covered bucket with urine was good for. The stale urine turned into ammonia, and that was used to cure animal skins. The skin of the buck was submerged in the smelly fluid.

The legs of the buck were hung into the flue of the fireplace for smoking, whilst the rump was hung from hooks to keep until Saturday. The guts were emptied and washed. Pelle had Ingeburg cut the lesser meat and the fat into small pieces. They were mixed and mashed, filled into sections of cleaned gut, and hung into the smoke of the fireplace, too. It took them all afternoon to process the animal.

The liver, sliced and covered with flour, was fried with onions and apples for their supper, and they both enjoyed the delicious treat. True to his word, Pelle made love to Ingeburg that evening and they slept wrapped in each other’s arms.

Pelle spend the next morning hauling more wood to the pile. He planned to fire it the next week, and there was still much to do. Ingeburg’s day was spent roasting the meat from the buck over the fire place. Ingeburg also collected berries from the forest, and she heated them with sweat syrup and bone extract to yield a solid jam.

They went to bed early that evening, and once again they melted into each other’s arms and consummated their marriage. It was astounding how well they were attuned to each other already. Pelle had always wondered how Greta had been able to ensnare the former Baron, being an all around disagreeable woman herself. However, if her skills as a lover had been anything like Ingeburg’s, Pelle could see how her less desirable character traits could have been overlooked.

There was nothing unpleasant about Ingeburg. She woke Pelle with a cup of steaming mint tea on Wednesday morning, and whilst he drank the tasty liquid she fondled his member to a rampant erection. Soon her shift went flying and she straddled his hips impaling herself on his prick and squealing with happiness over her feat.

Pelle let her do as she pleased, for once restraining himself to a passive role. It was just as well, for Ingeburg proved that she had been an attentive apprentice over the first week of their marriage. She rode them both to a shared peak and afterwards she cuddled herself to her husband’s chest purring contentedly. Pelle chuckled softly and she lifted herself up looking into his eyes.

“What is it you laugh about, Husband?”

“The Baron and his followers. Think of how they jeered at us! How will they be disappointed when they will see us hand in hand as a loving couple!”

Ingeburg thought about that and smiled. Then she sobered and shook her head.

“I admit it is funny, but I cannot really care. What I learned to feel for you is beyond their understanding anyway. I don’t need their envy to be happy.” She grinned. “That does not mean I will not show my love for you!”

She gave him a long, fiery kiss to which he responded in kind. Then she jumped from the bed and climbed down from the platform to start the fire and to prepare food for breakfast. After that, they both worked together on the kiln until after noon when they had some buttered bread.

 
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