Beyond Darkness

Ysmenia was hard pressed to avoid a snort at that stupid last remark of the horny farmer. Her ovaries had stopped working a long time ago - a very long time in fact. That was something she definitely did not have to fear.

Which instantly reminded her that he neither could know of this, nor should he. So when his liberated manhood pressed against her ass through the fabric of her hunched up dress she gave an appalled shriek for good measure. "Making me a baby? Please, is there no other way for you to find release?" With any luck that would send the mean old bastard's dick right into her cunt, exactly where she wanted to have him.

"Why, darling, there are many ways for you to help me in that regard...", the farmer went on with a surprisingly kind voice, his hands caressing against her skin more like a lover than like a rapist. "But only that way you'll get a little something of me for you.", he giggled a little as he touched against her back door. "I could do this little hole of yours as well, sweetie. But that would hurt you really much."

His hands suddenly lifted Ysmenia from her precarious position, and had his manhood touching, sliding against her womanhood. The old man groaned in delight as he rubbed his greasy lenght against her wet, moist lower lips. "Now, sweetie... you are looking forward for this at least as I am."

Ysmenia could not think of a fitting retort to hsi last remark. She was wet, no denying that, the kinky and perverted part of her making itself known. So she could only hope the farmer would not pay this fact much more attention as soon as he let her plunge downward, impaling her sweet wet folds on his old but sturdy monolith. Which seemed to be about to happen.

Indeed, her foreshadowing of the event to come was accurate.

But not because she did possess some special vision of the future, but because the farmer's movements were very self-explainable. The man lifted Ysmenia in his rough, callous hands, taking her by her hips and lifting her body a little. In the few seconds he held her in the air, the farmer had ajusted his lenght against her lower lips.

And suddenly, he left her go, impaling herself deep against his greasy manhood.

Ysmenia could not hold back as the hard meaty lance speared into her in one rapid swoop, hilting him all the way as her bare buttocks slapped audibly against his hips, causing the cloth of her dress bunched up around her hips billow during the rapid descent. "OOOoaaahhhh..." came from her parted lips, and the sound was not really one of disapproval as for a view brief moments her true feelings on the matter came to the forefront.

Finally sitting on his lap again, now thoroughly filled, she took the opportunity to recover has her wet folds got accustomed to the intruder stretching them, and she tried her best to find back to her unwilling demeanor, made easier by the fact that she was still facing away from him.

"Aaaaah...", the old man said in a long moan of pleasure.

"My little girl, I've never thought you'd feel THAT good.", the farmer said as he laid a hand above her tummy, the other coming to lay at her hips. "You are really sweet in her...", he smiled wickedly as he patted playfully over her belly, meaning about where he was nesting his greasy manhood.

"Now, now, let's go on, eh?", he said as he had now both hands over her waistline, forcing her to move and grind against his member. "C'Mon girl... wriggled those hips for me. Get ridin'."

That was not exactly how she had planned it, for him to have her do most of the work, but on the plus side he had taken her cunt, and she greatly preferred that to those guys who could think of nothing else but ramming their dick down her throat over and over. So she acquiesced to his wishes for now, as there was little else she could do without spoiling her little charade.

So in sync with his lead she started to slowly gyrate her hips, causing his stiff cock to rotate along her inner walls - which did feel good - and with her hands planted on her knees she began to slowly lift herself up and descend down again, only a few inches at first.

"Can't you ... pull it out before you come" was one more desperate plea to avoid any unwanted permanent gift.

"Ahh, girl, I've though you'd be so happy, carrying a little me inside of you..."

The farmer's wickedness was without equal. Umparelled, perhaps only by herself. An a man that Ysmenia had decided to pledge her life to... and use him as she pleased. The farmer forced his groin upwards, meeting down her womanhood and forcing her to jump a little, building up a pace after he used her to grind herself against his manhood.

She felt awesome. Thrice as better as his wife had never been, this little looter girl was the best this old man ever had. He knew that he was playing with fire, thought. If she tried to escape, there was little he could do. But she did not, perhaps too shaken by his amorous advance. But the farmer was old, and he would not last much.

As the farmer took over, his hands now decisively guiding her and leaving her little room to move outside the boundaries he imposed on her, Ysmenia fel back into the her passive submissive attitude again, letting things happen and getting the good end for herself.

His engorged pole driving in and out of her, combined with the aura of malice the old man exuded as he reveled in tormenting in what he considered such a pretty and innocent girl, started to arouse her as well, albeit she was not yet close to her climax and did not pay enough attention to her tormentor to monitor his progress.

"H-Help me a little, dear... Ride me."

The farmer suddenly said, landing an audible slap against Ysmenia's behind in order to spur her forth like one would do when nailing a horse so he would sped up it's steps. "Come on, sweetie... I may even give you a little treat later..."

Indeed, the mean old man was happy to ram his manhood deep into the little girl that Ysmenia seemed to be with perfection, but there was something good in his heart of yet. The farmer was considering giving her something beyond a child in her womb once he was done with her. Perhaps a small piece of honeycomb that he had been keeping away for an special occasion, make the girl a little bit eager to come back later.

A little treat? Ysmenia really had to hold herself together not to burst out laughing, but even so something vaguely resembling a snort escaped her that could be interpreted in a number of ways before she managed to press her lips firmly together, them forming a thin straight line. That old geezer was really under the impression she was an easily impressed little girl whom he could coerce into repeated service with some worthless little gifts. That was so wickedly funny she actually considered to really come back again later.

For now, though, she replied to his slap with a yelp and did as she was bidden. Again she began to raise and fall out of her own accord with in creasing frequency, his hard dick sliding into her by now thoroughly lubricated portal with audible slurping sounds, all under the cover of her skirt as her tits began bouncing once more.

The wet sounds were the only noise filling the room beyond their heavy breathing. For a moment, the farmer did nothing except than appreciate Ysmenia's moves, to feel how she seemed a little bit too eager to jump over his member, to allow him to invade her womanhood, going deep and far into her. His legs trembled as he felt her crashing above his lap, their fluids running down his rugged balls and further, dripping against the very floor.

Finally, the old man took his hands towards her chest, grabbing against her wide breasts lustfully. After a fell moments of just grabbing them, digging his filthy nails into her skin, he started to knead careful, almost lovingly against her large mounds of flesh, holdign them as precious relics to be worshipped rather than manhandled.

As she continued to ride the farmer Ysmenia noticed that she was getting close to cumming. That was less due to his particular skillful lovemaking - which it was not - but more due to the depravity of the situation. Her perverted little libido enjoyed these scenarios of abuse maybe a little bit to omuch, although even on that front the old man had not truly delivered as hoped. But be that as it might, it soon would be over, and it was not all bad.

As a plus he was really infatuated with her breasts it seemed, and the constant attention they were getting made up for some other deficits. With that thought she rose and fell and rose and fell...

A long moan suddenly escaped the older man's throat, it's rough and uncaring noise denouncing Ysmenia that the farmer, the bastard was reaching his peak. She had been moving over his lap, but suddenly his grip on her breasts tightened fiercely and using her bust like a handle, he pulled the young girl against his groin viciously, impaling herself in him, making his manhood travel so far as to hit her square in the cervix.

The man trembled and buckled under her as he nested his member properly withing her inviting folds and so suddenly started to burst with the bliss of a long climax unlike any he ever had with his wife, the crone Ysmenia had seem leaving the humble dwelling. The farmer exploded withing her bowels, sending jolt after jolt of his thick, virile seed into her body, coating her insides into the viscous fluid.

Argh, that did it. The hot spunk being dumped into her womb got Ysmenia off as well as it sploshed against her inner walls. And no way she could have an orgasm without the old guy noticing.

So she hung in hs grip herstin on his lap fully impaled by his rod, her tensing muscles a clear indication of her climax as her fingers dug into her own kneees and her mouth opened to let out one long drawn out moan. "Not too bad" was the thought that flashed through her mind between two waves of orgasm. "Could have been better, but not that bad for a little quickie."

“Aaah, sweetie… You made a man proud and joyful today…”, the farmer moaned into a blissful tone of voice, laying a hand against her hair to pull her against his chest way more kindly than he had been treating poor Ysmenia. He could never know, but in that case it was poor him rather than the young-looking woman he had just plowed and seeded. Licking all along her shoulder, from her leck to it’s edge, the farmer took both hands to embrace her from behind, pulling her tighter.

“Thank you, thank you. Thank you -”, he said as he kissed her back, his hands wavering to touch and slap playfully against her wide breasts, sending them giggling for a moment. “ – and thank the Goddess for maintaining my virility. You, sweetie… why won’t you come here every couple of nights? We can work on that baby some more… intensely.”, the old man told her with a giggle, caressing her tummy meaningfully.

“So, what about that treat? I have a honeycomb to give you, little girl... as sweet as your hips. These were… delicious.”

Ysmenia justsat there on the farmer's lap, enjoying a moment of stillness after the frantic humping and her orgasm, and also admittedly liking how his hands were still busy playing with her ample breasts. The way he slapped them felt ... definitely nice. That was not something everyone could come up with.

Looking away from him had the benefit that she could freely contort her face into another mocking grimace at the mention of the honeycomb. Really, she must have been very convincing in her role. It took a few seconds before she trusted herself enough to look back at him over her shoulder without betraying her true thoughts with a condescending sneer.

Instead it was a mix of resignation and hope that looked at the farmer. "So, does that mean I can go now"

“Aye Aye, sweetheart.”, the farmer told her, smiling, as his hardness finally started to grow limp within the young, gorgeous girl over his lap. “Off you go. Wife will be back soon with the boys, and I doubt she’d like to see who’s been caring of her old Man.”, he said as he kissed her cheek, his hand taking her long, golden mane away so not to disturb his lips as he brushed them gently against her soft skin.

Slowly the old man started to push Ysmenia away from his lap, holding her tight in case her legs were trembling as much as his, trying to prevent her from crashing down the floor. “You gotta come back, dearie. Here, I’ll let you have a slice of the bred you’ve wanted… and the honeycomb. See? I’m a good old man.” He told her with a wicked smile on his almost toothless mouth, admiring her nakedness with sheer glee.

“Perhaps you should be back tomorrow evening. I’m gonna be taking a horse down to the blacksmith… and we could try that baby of ours once more.” The old bastard laid a hand to caress over the girl’s tummy once more. He had fixed such wicked, depraved idea in his mind, after all. Poor Ysmenia, if she was indeed an innocent, young and poor girl. That would surely amuse her wicked intellect.

"Uhh... maybe..."

Ysmenia finally got back to her feet and away from the farmers grip. The lower skirt like half of her dress dropped back down to her calves, covering her naked legs and well fucked pussy as she mechanically pulled the upper half back up, slipping her arms under the shoulder straps until all her charms were covered again nicely.

Looking at the old guy again, as if to confirm that he really had no intention to prevent her from leaving he finally grabbed the offered treats, and still looking shy and frightened carefully made her way to the door, all the time staying as war away from him as possible.

Once outside, however, with her back to tbe barn, her expression immediately changed into a rather disconcerting smile. It had not been too bad. Not quite what she had hoped for, but at least she had gotten herself a decent ploughing. There was still room for improvement, but that was the risk of such spontaneous endeavours, the uncertainty that also made up a large part of their charm.

It took her less than five minutes to reach the bushes where she had hidden her horse, a prime example of a night black stallion, and finally discarding the farmers miserable payment she lifted herself onto its bare back with astonishing speed and grace, two thin leather straps serving as the only reins. And with a soft nudge of her heels into his flanks they began the ride.

The journey took her almost an hour, and on the last few miles the astle could be clearly seen. The ruin in the flank of the mountain had been ther for who knows how long, but recently things had changed. A new owner had moved in, and with him quite a vile host. The building had benn rebuilt in it's new owners fashion, towers of black granite atop equally dark walls radiating an intimidation aura of menace towards everyon who merely laid an eye upon them. For a mile at least in every direction the vegetation had been recently burnt away, and the black ashes remaining from the fire were like a dark mark on the fertile landscape.

The nearby farmers had alread learned to fear what came from beyond the castle's walls, as even by day grotesque creatures could be seen patrolling it's battlements, parodies of a human with green skin scaly in spots, often of hunched stature and with faces a mere caricature interspersed with long pointy teeth. The wicked weapons and armor they carried were no caricature at all, however.

All this did not seem to disturb Ysmenia the least as she directed her mount up the small and winding path that climbed up the mountain in serpentines and finally brought her to the currently lowered drawbrindge leading to the main gate.