Chapter 5

5.1 For a week after that night, aches in her shoulders and hips reminded her of the unearthly pleasure she received on that bench. It was strange that pain could bring back pleasure from the past...

The weather became warmer, and less of Helen’s time was spent feeding the stove.

“It would be imprudent to let you out to mix with locals, but you need to prepare your body for the exertions of the road. Here, I’ll show you some exercises that will help,” Peter told her once. The idea of doing “exercises”, was new to her, as work and housekeeping always kept her body busy in her past life. However, her walking was currently limited, and she could see the merit of it and followed his advice.

As spring was setting in and snow melting outside, Helen realized she feared hitting the road again. Would she find the distant relatives she sought or any good people to stay with? Or would she be driven away, as local peasants had done? Vagabond’s life is full of dangers and uncertainty after all. She pondered it over and over during the hours of monotonous chores.

Despite all the nasty things he subjected her to, Peter seemed a fundamentally decent and honest man, not given to anger or random brutality. He could be cruel sometimes, but it was always her fault. Or was it? She could not be sure anymore. Well, he again allowed her to wear clothes and dine with him now, so he couldn’t be that bad.

Now she had no doubt he would keep his promise and both let her go and provide supplies. While she detested being fucked without being asked, she could not deny enjoying the hapless vigour of village youths, and the unspeakably pleasures of “advanced lovemaking” Peter occasionally treated her to. Perplexingly, even being spanked became a habit of sorts, and with “daily reminder” spankings dwindling, she occasionally found herself provoking him to give her a good whacking and, afterwards, felt a strangely blissful, tear-eyed calm of being in good, firm hands.

As weeks slipped by, and preparations for her exodus were made, she became convinced she should not go. At least not now. Maybe after another year? Or maybe she could marry him? How should she tell him? Peter seemed so focused on preparing her traveling gear ... After an evening prayer, Helen resolved to speak to him about it tomorrow at dinner.

5.2. The next day, Helen was washing the dishes after breakfast and formulating how to ask Peter to let her stay. Sounds of a mob coming from the village reached her ears. She glanced at Peter, who was getting ready to go out to gather herbs. He frowned. The mob came to the gates, and now angry shouts could be discerned

“Death to the whore”, “Burn the rabbit witch”.

Helen shivered, her heart racing, as memories of the massacres she fled rushed back to her. Was it all happening again?

“Ppetter?” she asked with a trembling voice. His frown deepened.

“Stay here. Do not come to the windows. Do not even peek out!” He commanded, hastily putting on his hunting jacket, cap, and rifle on his shoulder. Then he took a deep breath and went out, shutting the door behind him.

Helen’s thoughts raced like spooked horses in the steppe. What’s going on? Why do they want to kill her? Did that stupid “bunny-girl” joke of his spiral out of control and make villagers think her a were-monster? She tried to listen, but could only hear that there was a heated argument going on.

After some time, she found it harder and harder to just wait, doing nothing about the doom looming over her. Should she run while she still had a chance? In his haste, Peter left the gun cabinet open. She could grab the second rifle, quickly get dressed in her new traveling clothes, grab some supplies and escape through the window and over the fence into the woods. A dangerous gambit. Should she risk it? Maybe Peter would calm the mob down and everything would be fine?

She should take no chances. Helen took several steps towards the gun cabinet, but was paralyzed by the fearsome memory of the hellish whipping Peter gave her the last time she tried to steal his gun. Her back felt vividly the belt slamming into it, making her flinch. She just couldn’t do it. Perhaps she should flee unarmed then?

Someone was coming to the door. Who? A single person’s steps. Peter’s steps. She breathed with relief, slinking behind a corner, so as not to be seen when he opened the door.

“I have news for you Helen, some bad and some good” the doctor said with a heavy sigh. Helen gulped fearfully.

“Village elders are very angry with you for seducing their sons, and came to burn you to death.”

“What? Nooo!” she cried in disbelief “You made me do it, I didn’t want to fuck all those lads!”

“Doesn’t matter now. The good news is I managed to get you a ... pardon of sorts. You will not be killed but banished...”

His grim tone and untimely pauses hinted at something she didn’t want to know but couldn’t help asking “But the bad news is?”

“Bad news is that I could not convince them to let you go completely ... unpunished”

“How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad, but not as bad as it could have been. They wanted to cut off your nose and ears, beat you half dead and throw you out into the forest. I managed to negotiate it down to a birching, back and front, until blood runs down your body. You will get a week to recover before you have to go.”