Huntress of the Snow

[kissdance]

calling all: slave girls, she-wolves, lesbian warriors
to join the Huntress

The story thus far


I was in the snow, running, covered only by a flimsy linen garment, my legs bare, my feet had turned numb. Behind me everything was in flames, everyone I knew was gone, everything I owned was burning. I ran into the woods, ran and ran until the snow under my feet turned to pine needles, with earth underneath. Then out of nowhere the men who had done all that loomed before me, came out form behind the trees, knocked me to the ground.

I was held, spread eagle, while they leered at me, their faces monstrous, obscene. They tore what was left of my dress away. The first man was heavy, he smelled of alcohol, spoilt food. It hurt, terribly when he pushed into me, and stroke upon stroke he took me. I screamed and screamed. The next one was no better. I was already hoarse when the second one took me, my wrists bruised down to the middle of my forearm, knees hurts from the fingers digging into my thighs to keep them open. I was numb when the third one took me. How many? I didn't know.

That had to be a dream, a very bad dream. I woke up screaming, screaming from a different invasion of my body. I was bound, wrists and ankles to stakes driven into the ground. There where fingers clawing into my buttocks, my pelvis lifted, and something warm and fluid pressed to me. A man's head was pressed between my legs, and I was rubbing myself against it, from his chin to his nose. It disgusted me, it horrified me, and it devastated me when my orgasm came unbidden. How they laughed. I felt dirty, really really sullied, more than when they first took me. Then the next one stroked me, drew my own wetness, my shame, up from between my legs on the tip of his dirty fingers. I shook to the core. I knew it was something I could not survive, watching their leering faces.

Then their faces froze. There was a sound coming from the trees. They stood, backing away, reaching for their weapons when the grey shapes leapt out from the shadows. One of them was pushed to the ground. He screamed as loudly as I did, our chorus filled the air while the wolves tore at him. The rest? They scattered, disappearing with the sounds of their frightened oaths and curses trailing behind them.

I screamed and scream until I was hoarse again, and no sound came out. They looked at me, the grey shapes with those yellow eyes. While I panted and sobbed, they nodded at me as if they understood. I flinched when they sniffed me, nudging their wet noses on my neck, on my waist. I tensed when I felt their whiskers on my stomach, up the inside of my thighs. "Stop it!" I hissed, clenching all my muscles. Kill me if you must, but don't, just don't. But they did not stop. They licked my face, in a way as if to comfort me, almost gently - curiously but gently. Slowly the beating of my heart slowed down, only to race again when the licking did not stop at my face, but on my neck, on my stomach, up and down my flanks. I was to be devoured after all. Their tongues were not like the tongues of men, but rough, raspy, raking over my skin. I cried again when I lurched upward, my buttocks lifted to meet the stroking of a tongue between my legs. What had become of me?

They gnawed through the ropes and freed me, somehow knowing that was what I wanted. I was exhausted, from everything, not the least of which from the guilty orgasms that came one after another under their ceaseless explorations. They crowded around me to warm me, with their heat and their furs, covered me through the night. They protected me, chasing off all other beasts of the night.

"You are mine now." I told them in the morning when I covered myself with shreds of the dead man's clothes and took his weapon. "Do you want more of me? then follow me, and help me hunted down the rest of them, and deal with them as you did with that one, and you can have more of me." I turned to walk out of the woods. They followed me, and so they become mine, and I was theirs.

 

[seven_of_nine]

I watched dispassionately as my herbs, salves and tisanes were cast to the floor and stamped on. My entire trade as a midwife and herbalist was utterly destroyed and for good measure they put my humble little hut to the torch as well. Witch and heretic they called me, for worshipping the divinity in nature rather than bowing and scraping before some vengeful male concept of God. I was called whore and slut for celebrating my fertility in the old druidic fashion, instead of subjugating my own body into celibacy and then giving myself as a slave in marriage. The friars and their 'crusader' knights of course had no notion of what it is to be female, to be physically weaker, to be physically invaded during lovemaking, to pay for sexual gratification by risking our lives in childbirth and to be walled in at every turn by men, treated like children except for when they wanted sexual release.

Never would I bow before a masculine deity. I knew as all who achieve any degree of enlightenment do, that all gods are faces of the One; the creator of all living things. Smallfolk with small minds need to approach the One through a face that they can relate to but that is no excuse for the barbarism I was witnessing. Women were being raped and slain in the street by these 'crusaders' and yet still they claimed to have superior morals.

I was not raped. They dubbed me 'the devil's whore' and claimed that all who lay with me would die... not only that but their souls would be eternally damned. I was stripped naked and dragged through the streets, beaten savagely. I did not plead with them. I would not beg for mercy that they did not possess. Only when we reached the market square and there were stakes being erected did I truly comprehend my peril. A mail gauntlet crashed into my temple and by the goddess I have always loved and trusted, in that fraction of a moment I managed an act of canny self-preservation. I fell to the ground like a stone and lay doubled over with my face in the dirt. The procession of 'crusaders' and their captives was halted and cries of protest went up at the interruption of their bloodlust. I was booted in the gut and managed not to react, lifted bodily off the packed Earth on which I lay only to strike it again.

The matter was taken out of my captor's hands. Another man leaned over me, his calloused palm on my shoulder. I was paralysed with shock as a blade slipped inbetween my ribs. The man was jostled from behind however and failed to stab as deeply as he had no doubt intended to. He yanked the knife out of me, cursing. I was rolled into a ditch at the side of the road and left there; naked, battered and lying in filth. Luckily I was facing downwards and so I could maintain the pretence. I do not know how long I lay there for, only that it was dark and quiet when I next dared to properly fill my lungs.

Slowly I crawled from the ditch, trying to keep my movements gentle and my breathing shallow. I had not the will nor energy to do more about my nudity than grab a cloak from a nearby corpse, to cover my pale flesh. I staggered in as direct a line as I could manage towards the forest that lay south. I walked for what felt like forever, wanting to get as far from the town as possible but not wanting to tire myself beyond any capacity for self defence.

Eventually I came upon a stream, fixing my gaze on it and looking forwards to slaking my thirst with cool water and finding a sheltered spot in which to lie. But I caught my ankle on a tree root, fresh pain shooting through my ruined bare feet. My skull pounded anew as my vision swam and I could not regain my balance. Once more the ground reared up to smack me in the face.