Chapter 5: To Market

Stinneh woke me as she was attempting to maneuver out of bed around my sleeping form. She halted in mid-crouch over me as I stirred and fixed me with her lovely green eyes.

“It’s market day, Sire Adam.”

“Oh?”

“Or tomorrow will be anyway. Mara will be taking some of the sheep and wool to Torochoza. She wanted to know if you’d like to go with ... heheheheee!” I’d interrupted her by reaching beneath her and slipping a finger into her cunt. Without bothering to ask what I wanted, she initiated what was soon becoming a morning routine for us, spitting into her hand and rubbing the wetness onto my prick, then angling it up between her spread thighs. She fixed me with her eyes, grinning widely as the glistening head disappeared into her hairy snatch and parted her labia. As she drove it home, sinking fully onto my hips, she closed her eyes and gave a small content moan. Settling into a leisurely rocking motion as I kneaded her soft tits, neither of us really registered Mara’s voice outside.

“Stinneh? Stinneh, where are ... oh.” Rolling her eyes slightly, she walked up to us and gave Stinneh a loup slap on her rump. “Greedy girl!” she said, winking at me “you can get stuffed some more in a couple of days.” She massaged Stinneh’s flexing buttocks as the latter started driving herself down on me even faster, her eyes flying open but staring ahead with a glazed expression.

She hissed a reply at her sister over her shoulder: “And you ... you can’t wait to get alone on the road with him, can you?” Mara quickly picked up on the game, leaning in behind her to move her hands over mine, kneading Stinneh’s heaving boobs together.

“Oh, yes ... I can’t wait to have him suck my tits” Mara moved a hand back and gave Stinneh another pat on the other buttock.

“And grab my butt” she lifted the hand to Stinneh’s face, the other quickly taking the hint and suckling breathlessly at the offered fingers. Mara continued:

“Maybe he’ll feed me his manhood, drive it all the way down my throat ... feed me his seed” she grinned at our communal moan of approval.

“Maybe I’ll ride him like that, or lay down in the grass and wrap my legs around him while he plows me, or maybe” she removed the slick fingers from Stinneh’s mouth and lowered her hand out of sight between their bodies. Stinneh soon hissed a wordless exclamation and I felt Mara’s finger pushing up into her dear sibling’s ass, her other hand softly squeezing my balls.

“Or maybe he’ll just bend me over and spread my ass-cheeks so he can ram right into my bowels” she leaned in, whispering loudly, hoarsely, into Stinneh’s ear: “You want that? Want your little baby sister’s tiny asshole split open by that beautiful thick pole you’re riding?”

I couldn’t stand it. Between Stinneh’s trembling wetness, the dirty talk, the kinkiness of the finger caressing me through the thin membrane from her anus and the pressure on my balls, I began to convulse in a monster orgasm. Mara grinned at feeling my balls tighten and leaned in to nibble at her sibling’s earlobe while speeding up her fingerfucking.

“I can feel him twitching. Is he filling you with his seed, sister?” She taunted while the first spurts found their way into the clasping birth canal and Stinneh ground her clit down into my pubic bone. “Can you feel his hot, sticky life-gift spurting inside you, deep inside you, filling you up?” Stinneh straightened up and panted at the ceiling in orgasmic bliss, thighs tensing against my hips. After a bit she relaxed again and leaned in for a kiss before dismounting me, eyes wide open and unfocused as Mara’s finger slowly withdrew from her asshole. Mara and I went to wash up, leaving her leaning back on the bed basking in her afterglow, one arm hugging herself while cupping her vulva with the other hand as though trying to keep my sperm from escaping.

“Did you wish to come with me to Torochoza? I’ll be returning in two days.” Mara inquired while filling some wooden canteens upstream of me as I washed. The weather was brilliantly sunny, puddles from the past days’ rain still scattered all around us.

“Sure. I passed through on my way here, but didn’t really take the time to look around.”

“After Espera, I doubt there’s much to see around here” she sighed, then perked up a bit “but still, a market day always means music, and maybe the jugglers from down the coast will be in town!”

She separated a couple of sheep each with a lamb in tow from the fold and we set off, both laden with huge but not very dense packs of sheared wool, a few wheels of cheese and a jug of fresh milk. I also took with me my little pouch holding their two coins, remembering I was expected to carry some currency with me. Stinneh came out and waved us off, still naked as the day she was born, yelling at Mara not to forget this-and-that “and pick a mean one!”

“What did she mean a mean one?”

“Oh, didn’t you notice we have no dog? She died this spring.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Nah, she lived a good life. She was strong up until this past year. I hope I’m as tough as that old bitch when I’m an old bitch.” We both grimaced a bit at the bleak humor, then she decided to lighten the mood. “But now it means I get to pick a new puppy, aside from everything else.”

Overloaded as we were, we made slow progress, resting frequently. We stopped for lunch and a nap on a rough, patched blanket under a few trees, serenaded by crickets in the stifling muggy mid-day heat while the sheep alternated between grazing and dozing, never straying far from my companion’s familiar presence. Both of us having stripped to the waist some time ago, Mara now unselfconsciously fanned her privates and widespread thighs with the hem of her skirt as she lay back with her eyes closed. She’d dressed for the trip not in her usual tan tunic or long rough dress but in what I took to be her good clothes, a long skirt and blouse which obviously had been bright red and yellow a long time ago, now faded and obviously stitched here and there. I watched the ample tanned breasts I’d admired bouncing in the sunlight for the past couple of miles rising and shifting with her breaths. Sweat drying on the dark, oval areolae sent the nipples stiffly upward into the gentle breeze.

After a few minutes it suddenly occurred to me that she was trying to get a point across. She’d positioned herself half off the blanket so that she could angle her crotch at me and the waving of her skirt between her widespread knees seemed intended not to cool her off so much as to waft the aroma of her sex my way. I tentatively stroked her calf. She grinned, keeping her eyes closed, and spread her legs further. I knelt between her thighs and slowly felt my way up to her furry snatch, sensing the dampness of sweat give way to the slick dampness of her arousal. She fumbled a bit with the laces on my trousers with one hand as she traced my shaft through them with the other, then finally looked up in surprise as I backed away slightly, only to drop her head back again with an appreciative giggle as I dove my face between her legs. The air beneath her skirt was filled with her musk and I began to labor in that hot, stuffy shade, tonguing her labia and working a single finger slowly into her tight clinging sex. After only a minute or two she tapped my shoulder away slightly.

“Ummm, Sire ... I’m sorry, I don’t want to stop you, but my skirt...”

Understanding, I helped her lift her hips of the ground and slip the colored garment off and tossed it safely onto a leafy bush, then dropped my pants while we were at it. I settled back down, this time in her arms, smothering her with a prolonged, deep kiss, crushing her soft breasts against me as I gave her a taste of her own juices. Kissing my way back over her chest and stomach, dipping my tongue into her bellybutton on the way, I resumed my earlier ministrations. She was already quite aroused from her earlier (I now realized, purposeful) flaunting of her breasts as we walked and our little bit of foreplay so far, that it wasn’t too long before I peeled back her clitoral hood and latched onto her delicious nub with my lips as she arched her back and panted out a quiet orgasm.

I didn’t give her much time to recover. My penis achingly stiff, I climbed back on top of her and positioned it at her dripping cunt. Despite her now freely flowing juices, she still gasped slightly as the bulging crown parted her flesh. Remembering her difficulties, I worked into her slowly, gradually, teasing her as I stopped to breathe. After a few minutes we were both panting in the heat and once more dripping with sweat. I slowed my pace a bit and caressed her face, looking into her eyes.

“I’ve been wondering something, Mara.”

“Hm?” she responded dreamily, running her hands over my back, tracing my flexing mucles.

“I’ve been wondering, since you’re so – tight!” I drove my pelvis home and she immediately wrapped her legs around my ass, holding me in. “Since your cunt is so tight, is it tighter than your asshole?” I twisted my hips, sending my ballsack wiggling against her perineum for emphasis. She laughed in surprise and thought a bit, bringing one hand between us to rake her nails against my chest as she considered the question.

“Well, our first sire, back when I was a young girl, he used to love taking me up the rear. I think it’s because I didn’t have much in front yet” she giggled, feeling my cock twitch, and I resumed moving in and out of her “No tits to speak of until after I was twenty. Not much bush either, when he won our coins. But I had some curve to my hip. And a cute little behind. Strong tight butt. So he’d bend me over and spread me. Spread my -”

“How young were you?” I interjected breathlessly.

“When he won us?”She thought for a couple of thrusts, grinding her hips into me. “Fifteen. He got us late. Mother hadn’t been sired in some years. We’re out of the way. So he’d bend ... bend my fifteen-year-old twig of a body over. And he’d pry my tight little girl butt ... apart with his strong bony hands. And he’d oil up my back hole. And he’d ... he’d ... ooooooh!”

It had been too much for me. I erupted what seemed like an endless load into her squeezing pussy. Jet after jet of cum splattered inside the tight orifice until I could feel the thick slime backing up along my shaft. Beneath me, Mara lost it as well, tensing up in a second orgasm. It must’ve been only a few seconds, but it seemed like a long time later that I finally rolled off her, both of us lost in the fireworks inside our own heads. We took deep breaths, coming down off the last half-hour’s high slightly, though my prick didn’t soften more than halfway. My head was still spinning with thought of a little teenage version of this seductive woman bent over and waiting to be sodomized, but every time I pictured it I could only see her as she was now, bent over for me, waiting for my attentions. I could hardly wait.

“I feel so full.” She mused. “Feels like you emptied a whole jug into my hole. If this doesn’t grow my belly I don’t know what will.” She chuckled. “Um, there’s no stream nearby. Would you like me to clean your manhood with my mouth like Stinneh did that time?”

I nodded, pleased at her initiative, and she leaned on her side and began lapping at my privates. I can’t say she was very enthusiastic about this but she dutifully licked and sucked up and down and all around my dick, picking up every trace of semen and vaginal fluid she could find, then bathed my testicles in her saliva as well. Needless to say by the time she’d completed the process, I was stiff as a board again. She gave my shaft a slight waggle and looked around, then at the sky.

“Did you wish any other service? We should probably get moving again.”

“So much for rest” I said, and we both smiled at each other. “No, we can get moving. You can take care of this later.”

We packed up and dressed again. The sheep had wandered slightly apart and as she gathered them I saw her stop a couple of times and pull up her skirt to reach a hand at her privates, but she said nothing about it. We set out at a leisurely pace, both more tired than two travelers should have been, but neither complaining. After a while I noticed Mara kept smirking and her lips were tight, as though she were suppressing laughter. Once, twice ... three times ... fourth time, my curiosity got the best of me.

“What is so funny and why aren’t you letting me in on the joke?” At this she clapped her hand over her mouth and shook with laughter. We kept walking. Finally she answered.

“Nothing. Oh, nothing. It’s just a wonder you can’t hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“The sloshing!” She suffered another fit of the giggles. “You filled me up so much I could feel it as soon as I got up. It’s been shifting around inside me with every step for the past hour. And it’s dripping out. I can feel it. I might stain this skirt after all. At least we’re almost at Tamane’s place and I can wash up.”

And she was right. As we turned the next bend in the road we could see a small cluster of homes. I learned this was a tiny hamlet of only six houses halfway to Torochoza. I’d passed it up in the night on my first time through the fields. It was not large enough to have a name, but made a good stopping point. I didn’t even bother asking Mara why she’d insisted we stop off in the woods instead. This was a woman’s world, and despite calling me “master” I was beginning to learn that Mara didn’t flinch from trying to get her way. As we neared, she waved a greeting to a woman who waved enthusiastically back. Then shading her eyes and taking a good look at me, the stranger cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled out:

“Congratulations!”

Mara grinned widely at this and waved again and by the time we got to their house, a little gathering of half a dozen women of various ages had popped out of nowhere, all conscientiously bowing to me while conspicuously sizing me up, and shooting knowing glances at Mara. I wandered across the road and sat down on a little bench they pointed me to as they began to chatter quickly back and forth, occasionally loudly enough that I could hear.

“Tamane already left for market.” They answered in response to Mara’s queries about getting cleaned up, slightly perplexed. “Said she’s not waiting for you if you don’t know enough to catch first light. But you can use our rain barrel if you’ve that quick a need.”

In response to this, Mara shot me a look out of the corner of her eye, then bent her knees, grabbed the hem of her skirt and hoisted it up, angling her hips forward and spreading her thighs. From the dark thatch of her bush and her tiny slit, several little rivulets of our combined cum had dripped down the insides of her legs. The hair closest to her vagina and down the crack of her ass still glistened with thick cream while half-dried streaks adorned her skin halfway down to her knees. Instead of shock and consternation, this sight was greeted with uproarious laughter and clapping, and the women slapped her amicably on the rump as they escorted her behind one of the cottages. Not for the first or last time in this strange new world, I felt myself blushing like a little boy. Worse yet, my prick sprang to life again at the sight.

We didn’t stay long at the hamlet, as Mara really was hoping we’d make it to town before nightfall, and the rest of the trip was quite dull. Two women joined us, loaded with their own goods for market, and Mara spent most of the trip making small-talk about vegetable gardens and the weather and catching up on some choice gossip. Did you know so-and-so tried trapping a wolf and caught a whole family of ducks instead? I didn’t. It was early evening when we reached Torochoza and what passed for its inn, a relatively large though visibly aged two-story wooden building with a stylized bull’s head on its shingle. We corralled the sheep into a pen outside with many others and headed inside.

The town was not large. Actually, that’s a severe understatement. Its seventy houses and population of two or three hundred would barely have qualified it as the most meager village were this world not so severely depopulated after what Classus had called the Withering. As things stood, it was the largest town within at least three days’ walk in any direction, and this meant it got to host market gatherings for surrounding homesteads like my own two wards’. Homes looked very mixed: some stone, some brick, mostly timber or wattle-and-daub. Some were visibly still abandoned. But they had a general store and a water-mill and a market square and an inn, and that, in context, made them somebody. The atmosphere was both busier and slightly more restrained, though lacking any of Espera’s formality. Women greeted me quietly, politely, in the local fashion, bowing from the waist with palms crossed over their chests.

The inside of the inn smelled, not horribly but with that inescapable stuffiness brought by closely-packed bodies for decades on end. It was in good repair and clean, though the woodwork showed heavy wear, like a depression a couple fingers thick in the steps of the stairway to the guest rooms above. Mara quickly shooed me to a large table along the back wall of the dimly-lit common room, and returned with two new faces and several mugs of thick beer.

“Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire.” They bowed and sat without further ritual. Both were dressed in light, breezy brown tunics cut fairly low at the neck, showing the shifting masses of their breasts whenever they moved. Summer-wear, I surmised. One was Mara’s friend from the hamlet, Tamane, a woman visibly of middle age, which I assumed would put her real age near a hundred. She had an unnervingly steady look in her eye and a continual smirk pulling one corner of her mouth upwards. Her hair was dark and straight, roughly cropped relatively short. The other was the inn-keeper herself, Stilena. I fought not to raise an eyebrow at the name, remembering Mara’s mention of Stilena and her sex toy after I’d fucked Stinneh’s ass. She carried a golden armlet above her elbow, similar to Cara’s. The three women eased into a casual conversation, Stilena occasionally turning and asking me politely prodding questions. How did Espera look when I left it last month, were there many ships from the south coming in, had I traveled along the coast much or up into the mountains, oh and by the way (with a quick glance at an apprehensive Mara) did I plan on staying long in the area?

“I have no plans to move on in the near future.” I answered cautiously. “I might cross the mountains northwards next spring.”

“Northwards? Oh they’ll be happy to hear that up there. With so many sires leaving Espera by ship, the towns along the road are eager to offer their service.” She winked at me.

“Seems to be the way the farther inland you go.” Tamane nodded thoughtfully. “Lots more young’uns in the port towns, with ships bringing the goods” her eyes darted surreptitiously to me”right to them. What can we do to get them here? An ox-cart hobbling over broken roads nobody can mend anymore? Now if only the magisters would take to laying down good stone roads like they had in the old days...”

From there, the conversation shifted to local politics again and I was free to look around the room and eavesdrop around nearby tables. Torochoza was large enough to be split among four men, though mostly one named Meryn who no longer lived locally, having just founded his estate some way up the road. A few young girls at a table toward the door, teenagers by the looks of them, were shrilly debating among themselves whether to remain in their mothers’ homes or take up life on the estate. From the middle of the room I could hear a heated discussion about whether such-and-such had cheated such-and-such other on a trade of several crates of tomatoes. A couple of girls moved between the kitchens and the tables carrying plates of food. Being a warm summer night, many of the women had whipped off their various robes, dresses, tunics and blouses and were casually sitting round topless, chatting as though nothing could be more natural. And really, they were right. Tits peeked above tabletops in every direction: tiny, adolescent buds, rounded fully-grown orbs, heavy, drooping globes of flesh. About two dozen women filled the room and almost half had stripped to their waist. It wasn’t long before Stilena too shrugged off the upper half of her garment, revealing a pair of elongated breasts tipped with large aureolae and wide nipples. A young girl brought us each a small portion of grilled chicken and a large portion of salad and we dug in, famished after the day’s trip and other ... adventures.

By the time I looked up again the inn was packed. Many women who had come for tomorrow’s market were spending the evening chatting with their friends from the village, and many tables had upright logs pulled up to them as impromptu chairs. Stilena had to excuse herself, hike up her clothing and get back to work serving the multitude, and her place was taken by five women of varying shapes, sizes and state of undress. Across the room I was surprised to see my first male face in a month: a small-framed, dark-haired man who raised his mug to me by way of greeting. I returned the gesture and learned from the woman to my right that his name was Stephan.

“I’m Melia, by the by.” She added quickly before I could get distracted by someone else. “Sorry I didn’t greet you properly when we sat down. It’s just so full here tonight.” Melia turned out to be small and light-skinned with long straight black hair flowing down her back. She was wearing a light, bright floral-print dress, somewhat eye-popping but certainly festive, and seemed in the mood to talk. We chatted about favorite foods, favorite animals, favorite weather. Despite its banality, the conversation felt oddly like an interview. We were interrupted at one point as a cheer went up and two new women were funneled straight from the door to the small wooden stage by the kitchen. For the next fifteen minutes or so we were treated to a fiddle-and-flute medley of various up-tempo tunes, and everyone clapped and cheered when they were done. They almost weren’t allowed to leave the stage until Stilena burst through the kitchen door with a platter of food yelling:

“Leave them be, leave them in peace for now, let’s get some food in them first!”

Melia turned to me again and said:

“It’s always nice to get some music or juggling or puppetry around harvest or midwinter feast or market days.”

“Oh, sure.” I agreed.

“It’s fun to see other shows too. Like one time a magister was coming through and he showed us all the new balloons they’re making.” She grinned girlishly at the memory. I nodded, not given enough time to get a word in edgewise before she continued.