Chapter 3

It was extremely difficult for me to restrain my emotions watching my much younger sister prance around the main house like a naked princess on a bed of feathers. She had been brought back to life truly invigorated by the deep penetrating medicine of my “ghostly” alter-ego, Sir Charles.

The fact that I had greatly enjoyed the arousing ruse beyond my fondest expectations was a source of shame to me and I willingly confessed it on a quiet Saturday morning to a shocked priest in the next parish. His shouts of indignation inside the sacred place startled the other faithful in a way they hadn’t imagined when they left their little homes with reconciliation on their mind. I did my best to blend into the darker corners as I took my leave and I was certain none of them recognized me as Patrick Butterbum.

One of the advantages of living a quiet retired life was the anominity of presence that allowed me to mix with the natives without the pomp and circumstance of dreadful propriety. My sister, Sandra or Silky to some, was not fettered by such restrictive considerations and generally played the posh role that she was so well suited for. Please don’t think that I am being unfairly critical of my beloved Silky, because she was a creature of the times and moved in the circles of society that most folks were decidedly uncomfortable in.

I was not quite running down the country lane on the back road to our estate when I came upon a strange sight of a young girl struggling on the pasture grass just inside a dense thicket of bushes probably planted to act as a natural fence to keep in domestic animals. She appeared to be one of the numbers making their Saturday morning absolutions of the soul in the nearby church. However, in this case she was being pinned down in her shoulder area by a lout with a bad case of acne on his disaster of a face. He was employing an old trick a sailor had shown me to incapacitate an opponent by stretching the full length of her arms with a firm grip on her wrists and using his feet in her armpits to immobilize her and causing her to be unable to scratch or do damage with her hands or feminine nails.

I was astonished to see that her attire was all pushed up from the bottom with the exception of her black stockings and she was naked as a jaybird from the waist down. Her full bush was on display in shocking black triangle against her strikingly white skin. The second fellow was holding her ankles high in the air and slowly descending between her knees in a despicable way of taking her dignity from her without permission. Despite my many years in dangerous places around the world, it was a sight I had never seen before and I was momentarily frozen in place by the shocking tableau.

Strangely, the girl was completely silent and I failed to understand her reticence in shouting out her protests at the degrading incursion on her personal privacy.

The sight of the man’s huge hard manhood was disgusting to me because I knew in a few short seconds it would be nestled with cunning confidence inside the poor girl’s cunt with disgraceful consequences. I retreated to the other side of the road and took a running leap over the low bushes to land softly in the dense grass on the other side. Fortunately, the two fellows were so obsessed with their mission of taking the girl’s favors in an obscene manner that they failed to discern my approach. I used my walking stick to clout the much older man with the huge cock on the back of his head and he fell forward onto the half-naked girl hopefully with his erection not gaining entrance to her feminine core by sheer misfortune of gravity.

The other miscreant jumped up with unexpected adroitness and accelerated his withdrawal with a swift foot and a cry of dismay. I was tempted to pursue him but realized it was more important to clear the other one from between the poor girl’s legs and help her to restore her clothing to a more dignified presentation. The older man was a bit on the heavy side and he was a difficult burden to shift on the uphill slope. Still, I managed to get him off her and saw his limp cock had not disturbed her nesting place of sweet desire at the apex of her long, shapely legs.

“Don’t worry, little lady, let us get back to the road and away from this disturbing scene. These fellows won’t bother you anymore this fine morning.”

We both walked briskly down the lane to the crossroads and a smattering of other pedestrians going about their business with no inkling of her desperate circumstances. Her lack of words was explained by her scribbling in a little notebook attached to her bodice that she was suffering from an affliction that had robbed her of the ability to speak or to make any kind of sound. Apparently, it did not affect her sense of hearing and she understood everything I said. It was quite strange to be in the company of an attractive woman and find that she was unable to use her words to make me feel inadequate or lacking social skills so important to the younger generation. I felt like warrior in the company of a disarmed enemy unable to use her most effective weapon of defense in her behalf. I could only imagine how she had felt when that pair of criminals had dragged her into the bushes.

It must have been terrifying to say the least.

She wrote that she was the daughter of John Ward and that she was called Ann with no “e”. We paused at a water well almost on the edge of my family’s estate and she asked me to turn around whilst she cleansed her lower regions of the drippings of the big man’s horrible attempt to impale her on his shameful lusting rod. I confess I peeked and was treated to the finest pair of feminine buttocks spread wide for my perusal in guilty disobedience. I think she knew I was scouting out her shapely figure but acted like she was totally unaware of my lack of gentlemanly behavior.