The Girl With No Name - Cover

The Girl With No Name

Copyright© 2013 by Edward EC

Chapter 12: The Fruits of Hubris

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 12: The Fruits of Hubris - EC's historical novel about the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia. Peasant Danka Síluckt's life forever changes when she is arrested and put in the pillory for stealing apples. She is rescued by the farmer she stole from, but she must escape and travel throughout Danubia as a naked penitent, wearing nothing but penance collar and carrying with her nothing but a bucket. She finds sexual adventures during her travels, but ultimately must keep moving until she finally finds redemption.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Slavery   Heterosexual   Historical   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Spanking   Exhibitionism   First   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Nudism   Revenge  

Towards the end of May, Jadranka accompanied her classmates on an expedition into the wild territories to study and identify rock deposits and land formations along the northern mountains. Some of the places she already had seen when she was a Follower. The freedom of the open country beckoned her, reminding her of the previous year when she ran about the woods in the nude. Without thinking about what she was doing, she took off her dress and folded it into her saddlebag. None of her classmates even considered doing such a thing. Instead they stared at her with bewildered expressions, wondering why she would want to act like a penitent or a collared criminal. Jadranka, who had assumed a completely rebellious frame of mind, defiantly responded:

“This is what I’m accustomed to and what I believe. I am in the Realm of Nature and therefore my body must be liberated in the sun. I have spent nine months cooped up in an uncomfortable dress and locked away in my bed-chamber. Now I plan to enjoy this realm the Ancients have granted me.”

Jadranka’s statement and desire to rebel against her classmates had just committed her to spending three weeks as the only naked person in a large expedition of well-dressed elitist students. The others felt uncomfortable talking to her, so she spent most of the trip working and making observations by herself. She regretted taking off her clothes without checking to see if any of her classmates would do the same, but she was convinced that to humbly get dressed again and conform to the group would make her look even more foolish than she looked already. She tried to convince herself that she was determined to make a statement to defend the customs of the Followers of the Ancients, especially to the classmates who knew she had been a member of the Cult.

Well, let them see the freedom we enjoyed.

Whenever she was working alone, away from disapproving glances of her stuffy classmates, Jadranka did enjoy being naked; feeling the sun and mountain breezes on her uncovered body after having spent the last nine months cooped up in university buildings. She satisfied her desire to run in the nude across open fields and jump along the rocks. She loved plunging into cold streams, not having to do anything more than taking off her shoes.

She was enjoying being naked outdoors so much that her thoughts returned to her counterfeit penance collar. She would have liked to put it on, but then she’d have to leave Sebernekt Ris and go where no one knew her.

Leave Sebernekt Ris.

Why not? As long as she had her collar, she could go where she wanted and was assured of having meals and places to sleep from the Danubian Church. The collar carried with it a huge range of restrictions and limited what she could do, but in some ways it would give her much more freedom than she currently had. It would be nice to just wander and explore; not having to worry about schedules, professors’ demands, and passing the next exam.

Jadranka wondered where she could go. She couldn’t go back to any of the towns she had visited over the previous three years, nor did she have any desire to do so. She had been almost everywhere between the Rika Chorna river and the northern mountains, with an important exception. She had not yet seen the nation’s capitol, Danubikt Moskt. That would be perfect. She’d travel there as a collared stranger, rely on the hospitality of the Danubian Church, and see all the wonderful sites that city had to offer.


The trip into the mountains had socially isolated Jadranka and gave her a bad attitude about her classmates. Her soul burned with resentment over having to conform to a multitude of small-minded people whose intellect obviously did not match hers. The more she pondered feeling alienated from the others, the more she was convinced she needed to get away for a while and see something not related to university life. So, she’d put on her penance collar and go traveling. Her original plan was to leave Sebernekt Ris at the beginning of July and return in the middle of August. She’d explore the capitol and the surrounding areas, satisfy her curiosity, and hopefully, after two months of relative freedom, come back with a better attitude about pursuing second year of classes.

Perhaps two months of wandering would have satisfied the craving she had for freedom. Unfortunately, Jadranka’s craving for freedom was matched by her desire to wield power and influence over others. As the third anniversary of her departure from Rika Heckt-nemat came and went, she bitterly remembered that day on the pillory and the powerless existence she had endured when living with her family. She still felt powerless in Sebernekt Ris, constantly following the orders of professors and military instructors. Although her circumstances and living conditions had greatly improved over the past three years, she remained completely unable to control anything going on around her.

She knew she was more intelligent than most people in the Duchy, so why should she settle for spending her life taking orders? Shouldn’t she lead instead of follow? It was galling to think that, as an elder among the Followers, she could have led, regardless of the fact she was a woman. That option no longer was available.

Jadranka walked by the local cathedral and noticed a Priestess administering blessings and leading a group of worshippers dressed in black prayer robes. She hadn’t given much thought to the Danubian Church as a possible Path in Life, but she knew Priestesses had as much power over their parishioners as their husbands. She thought about that haughty seminary student Starivktaki Moskt. Undoubtedly, at that very moment her first mentor was enjoying exercising power over her community.

Of course! I hadn’t really thought about it, but I can join the Danubian Church, become a Priestess, and find my place in society. I will be powerful and reign above others. I’ll put on the black dress and no man will dare disobey me. That’s where I will find my Path in Life, as a Priestess.

Jadranka didn’t give much thought to the rigorous instruction that apprentices for the Danubian Clergy had to endure in their seminaries. She was convinced the education she already had obtained would allow her to bypass much of the training the Church ordinarily gave its Apprentices. After-all, she was educated and much smarter than most people, and surly the Prophets would understand that the Creator had sent her to assume a special place among the Clergy.

The obsession took over Jadranka’s thoughts and filled her soul with hubris. For the first time since thinking that simply owning a nice dress would allow her to ingratiate her way into her hometown’s elite society, her ambitions became detached from reality. If she wanted personal freedom, she certainly would not find it in the conformist culture of the Danubian Church. Yes, Priestesses did work alongside their husbands as equals and could command any civilian man, but the only power they exercised was carrying out the orders of the Prophets in Danubikt Moskt. A large portion of the training Clergy members received in the seminary was to ensure they carried out the will of the Church, and not their own will.

Had Jadranka bothered to talk to the Priestess, her illusions about using the Church to wield power would not have survived the conversation. Subconsciously, she was aware of that. She also knew the Priestess would be very angry at the thought of a university student wanting to become an apprentice in the seminary to pursue her own desires and not those of the Creator and Prophets. From the very beginning, Jadranka would have to lie to conceal her motives for joining the Clergy.

Another illusion that would not have survived a conversation with a Clergy member would have been the timing of her plans. If she had wanted to enter the seminary that year, she would have needed to make the arrangements in April. Already it was July. Jadranka was aware of the schedule, but had convinced herself that her knowledge was so extensive that she could join the 1753 class with no problem.


Jadranka understood, before going anywhere, she needed to talk to Dean Fitoreckt. However, he had become increasingly withdrawn and not very approachable. She already knew that he was very old, but until recently his features had not shown their age. By the summer of 1753, it seemed that most of the life had gone out of him. The cunning and determined man she had known over the past year had faded away, leaving behind a soul that had overstayed its time among the Realm of the Living. Dean Fitoreckt didn’t seem to want to do much anymore: he contented himself spending hours standing at the window of the dean’s office staring vacantly into the distance. She noticed he always stared east, towards the mountains and the former home of the now-defunct Cult of the Ancients.

Perhaps he should have been satisfied with everything he had been able to accomplish: running a respected university, dissolving a doomed religion with a minimal number of deaths, assuring the safety and the continuing relevance of the remaining Followers, avenging Babackt Yaga and her group of elders, and routing the Cult’s enemies from one of their most important strongholds.

None of that mattered nearly as much as knowing he was the final leader, the custodian forced to oversee the demise of an institution that had been part of his nation’s soul for 5000 years. Now everyone he cared about was dead or in hiding. Only he remained, a forlorn old man (probably the oldest person on the planet) standing alone at his window, staring out at a world where his existence no longer had any purpose. The dean knew his Path in Life had ended, even if his time in the Realm of the Living had not. Like a ghost at daybreak, he was fading in silence.

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