Extract from: "The Pooka's Women"

 

'I think this is the place,' Jasmine Tunstall said to her companions, consulting the map on her phone.

They were in The Vale of the White Horse in the lee of the Berkshire Downs between Swindon and Oxford. In fact, they were only a few miles from where they lived in Bawdsleigh, but they had never been to this obscure spot before.

Jasmine, Krystal Davies, and Hayley Rushford had just picked their way across a couple of fields from the nearest road where they had left their car. Now they stood before a dilapidated barn that was half-smothered by ivy and almost lost in a copse of trees by a wild hedgerow. Its sagging tiled roof, shaggy with moss, and its timbered walls, which were weatherworn and covered in peeling black stain, rested on a rectangular bed of roughly cut and shaped stone blocks that served as its foundations. A lichen-covered cornerstone had a single word carved across it in fading letters: "Hobs."

'This is it all right,' Jasmine confirmed.

Their pretty faces filled with nervous, hungry excitement.

They had been the three most attractive girls in their year at High School, who had gravitated together out of a shared interest in fashion, beauty products and astrology, and because they knew that together they looked even hotter than the sum of their parts. It had given them admiration and attention, and the power to attract the best-looking boys. Now in their early twenties school was long past and boys had turned into men who had come and gone, but they had stuck together.

They still had rich and indulgent parents and generous allowances, which allowed them to share a comfortable flat, giving them independence. A little regular charity work reassured their parents that they were not frivolously wasting their lives. They would find suitable partners and settle down eventually. Meanwhile they had wealth, security, and beauty, and they wanted to enjoy all of them to the full. Not just for as long as possible, but forever...

Which was why they were standing before an old tumbledown barn in Oxfordshire on a damp grey autumn day.

The sagging barn doors were stiff, and they had to haul on them to swing them open. Inside was a musty space lit by daylight slipping through gaps in its warped woodwork. Some ivy had intruded through these holes and hung in faded garlands from the roof. There was nothing else inside apart from a stale compacted straw floor and a lot of cobwebs. Clearly the place had not been used in a long time.

'Now what?' Hayley asked, putting down the bag she had been carrying.

'We do the ritual just like it said, of course,' Jasmine said.

'We're going to freeze our tits off!' Krystal protested.

'We'll soon warm up,' Jasmine assured her.

'What if somebody comes along and sees us?' Hayley wondered.

'I don't think anybody comes here much,' Jasmine said.

'Do you think that's because he's here?' Krystal said in a hushed whisper.

'Maybe. Come on, let's do it!'

They closed the barn doors. There was a heavy wooden bolt on the inside that they managed to slide across, which gave them some sense of security. There were still plenty of gaps in the doors and the plank walls, which let in enough light to dimly illuminate the interior, but somebody outside would find it hard to actually see anything within, and they were beyond the season where the countryside was crowded with walkers and picknickers. They were unlikely to be disturbed.

The three women undressed, shivering with the cold, until they were only wearing their trainers. They look at each other doubtfully, as if seeking reassurance and courage, but not in surprise at their exposure. They had got far more used to the sight of each other's naked bodies recently. Besides, they were all attractive and they knew it, which further confirmed their sense of self-worth.

Jasmine had long, dark blonde, tousled hair. She had a bright face with a high smooth forehead, bold eyebrows, dark blue eyes, a firm uptilted nose, and good lips. Her figure was shapely, with full breasts tipped by round pale brown nipples, a supple waist, nice legs, and a narrowly cleft bottom. Beneath her neat navel was a trimmed dark pubic delta with pouting inner lips.

Krystal had collar length ash-blonde hair, pale blue eyes, pale eyebrows, a neat nose and a firm determined chin, and thin tight lips. She had pneumatic, high-set breasts with convex upper slopes and large pale nipples. Her hips were broad, and she had fleshy thighs and full buttocks. A closely trimmed strip of pale brown pubic hair framed her neat pussy cleft.

Hayley had a slenderer build, with honey blonde hair tied in a single plait and a fringe hanging over her eyes. She had a pale, heart-shaped face with grey blue eyes and pouting lips. She had rounded breasts capped by small brown crinkled areolas with pale pointed tips. Her waist was slim, her legs lean, and she had a perfect, neat, smooth bottom. A pouting inner labia tongue peeped out of an open sex pouch, crowned by a thin veil of pale pubic hair.

They unpacked their bag. There were three bamboo canes, three silvery plastic vibrators, four electric lanterns and a big camping groundsheet. They opened up the groundsheet and placed the lanterns on its corners so that they illuminated anything on it. They each picked up a bamboo and then stood on the groundsheet, so they were spaced equidistantly apart and sideways on to each other.

'Have we really got to do this?' Krystal asked.

'Yes, we have,' Jasmine said firmly. 'No going back now.'

Taking a deep breath, they reached out and began to cane each other's bottoms. The bamboos swished through the air and struck with sharp crisp cracks. Soft bottom flesh rippled and shivered, and the women winced and bit their lips, but they kept on swinging the canes.

'Awww... it hurts!' Hayley gasped.

'It's meant to,' said Jasmine. 'Keep going...'

After a minute their bottom cheeks were rosy-red, and they were snivelling, and tears were running down their cheeks.

'Now use the vibrators!' Jasmine said.

They dropped the canes and sat down, wincing as their sore bottoms touched the ground sheet, and then lay back with their legs pulled up and splayed wide. Grabbing their vibrators, they turned them on and plunged them into their pussy clefts, as if they were stabbing themselves. Their nipples sprung up at the sudden stimulus of pleasure. They pumped the buzzing shafts into themselves, twisting and churning them about vigorously. As they did so they began to chant:

'Great Phyone, hear us! May our tears and pain and joy and juices wake you from your sleep!'

They felt heat and excitement flowing through them, displacing the chill of the barn. They enjoyed sex. It was what lovely bodies like theirs were good at and one of the best things in life, and they never wanted to stop doing it. That was why they were here...

Their nipples were throbbing, and their juices were flowing, and they were making damp patches under their hot bottoms. They were panting and sighing, and their hips were beginning to lift. Hot liquid lust was simmering in their loins.

'Great Phyone, please wake up!' they screamed in unison.

And then they climaxed. For a few ecstatic seconds, their bottoms slapped against the groundsheets, and then they slumped back limply, cocooned in orgasmic delight.

For a minute there was nothing but the sound of subdued panting in the barn. Then the women stirred and looked about them uncertainly, with the softly buzzing vibrators still inside them. They turned them off and strained their senses.

'Did it work?' Krystal asked fearfully.

'There's nothing here,' Hayley groaned. 'We got it all wrong...'

Then they heard it.

Like a whisper of wind at first, it grew into a thin, wavering voice seemingly from all around them and under their feet. The women shrieked and rolled over and huddled together, both thrilled and fearful, while the vibrators squirted out of them as their passages clenched tight.

The ethereal voice deepened, and slurred words could be made out. There were mutterings and sighs in languages they did not recognize. The words became more distinct, and it seemed to them that they were being asked a question.

'We can't understand you!' Jasmine cried. 'Speak English!'

The cacophony ceased. Then a deep resonant voice said, 'So, this is the manner of your speech. Who are you?'

'I... I'm Jasmine,' Jasmine said in a quavering voice. 'And this is Krystal, and this is Hayley. Are... are you Phyone the Pooka?'

A booming laugh filled the barn, making the women flinch. 'Who else were you expecting, foolish child? You called to me, and I awoke.'

They looked at each other in wild delight. It was true, all true! Everything they had hoped for was true!

'Kneel and face each other,' Phyone rumbled. 'I can sense your presence, but I want to see through your eyes.'

Obediently, the women shuffled about until they were kneeling facing each other.

'Yes, three pretty maids indeed. And you used the correct words to rouse me. I suppose you know my story and want the gift the stone I carry can give?'

A thrill passed through the women, setting their nipples standing up again. 'Yes, yes we do!' they cried eagerly.

'Call me Master,' Phyone said. 'Mere mortals should show proper respect when conversing with one of the Elder Folk, who walked the earth before your kind existed.'

They felt a fresh kind of thrill, as if they were talking to a celebrity. 'Yes, Master,' they said, with untypical meekness.

'But what do you offer in return for the gift of the stone?'

'Anything, Master!' Jasmine said.

'You willingly offer... anything?'

'Yes Master.'

'Both pain and pleasure?'

'Yes, Master.'

'Prove it. Each of you take hold of one of your companion's nipples...' Nervously they did so. 'Now pinch and twist them until the tears flow!'

Wincing and snivelling they did so, digging their thumbs into the hard pulsating nubs of flesh and squeezing and twisting. They stifled yelps and hot tears ran down their cheeks.

'Good, 'Phyone said. 'Now spread your legs wide and finger each other's cunnys... go on, do it!'

With their cheeks burning they had to lean inwards so that their heads touched, feeling their breath hot against their cheeks, which were hot with shame, before they could reach into the groins of their companions. They gasped as they each felt two sets of fingers probing their most intimate of oracies, still wet and sticky from their recent orgasms, even as they did the same. Their fingers brushed against those of their friends inside the hot wet clefts, which felt impossible intimate. They squirmed and stifled groans of dismay and felt sick and darkly aroused all at once. New tingles stirred in their loins and fresh juices began to flow.

'Oh yes, that is very nice,' said Phyone. 'You are most juicy females. But enough for now!'

They each pulled their fingers out of a pair of hot clinging pussies and sat back on their heels, surreptitiously wiping their fingers on their thighs, unable for the moment to meet their friends' gaze in embarrassment.

Phyone continued. 'Perhaps you do have the will. But there will be far better and far worse to come. If you are faint of heart, then you had better leave now.'

Jasmine spoke up. 'No, Master, we'll do whatever we have to.'

'I will hold you to that,' he warned her ominously.

The women shivered.

Hayley suddenly blurted out, 'Please, Master... can we see you?'

'No. You have woken me, but I am not free to rise or grant your wishes yet. I am buried not just by earth but by binding incantations.'

They felt their hearts sink. They had thought they were so close.

'How can we free you, Master?' Jasmine asked.

'By walking a hard path. This was a condition set down by Gethyn the Mystic long ago... what is the year now?'

'Twenty twenty-one, Master.'

Phyone groaned. 'I have slept that long! I thought I might have to wait a few hundred years, no more. This means I was entombed over fourteen hundred years ago.'

The women gulped.

'What is the time of year?' Phyone asked.

'The Sixteenth of October, Master.'

'Then you have little time. By Gethyn's will, I can only be raised on All Hallows Eve.'

'When?' Krystal muttered in confusion.

'He means Halloween,' Jasmine hissed back.

'Who was Gethyn, Master?' Hayley asked.

'A druid. One of last great Mages... and my downfall. I was in Wales tempting maidens with the life stone. Offering them what you wish for, in exchange for certain favours and sacrifices. I thought it was amusing to see what they would risk and endure for such a prize. But Gethyn thought that was cruel, and that lust for the stone would corrupt even the strong. He and his fellows chased me out of Wales and across the Severn and finally trapped me here.

'But he found he had not quite the power to completely destroy me or the stone, but nor dare he leave me free. We were in a deadlock. So, we made a bargain. I would submit to being entombed as long as there was a chance I could be freed at some future time. For his part, Gethyn swore he would tell the tale so it might be recorded and spread about the land. I assume that he kept his word, which is how you found me.'

'Yes, Master,' Jasmine confirmed.

'But Gethyn also set conditions on any who might free me. First that they must be female. You are certainly that. Then, that you must be pure of heart and be without any person bearing a grudge against them. Are you such?'

'Yes,' the women said quickly.

'You lie!' Phyone boomed, making them cringe again. 'Do you think I cannot see into your hearts? You have been bad, selfish girls, is that not true?'

They trembled. 'We were only having fun, Master,' Jasmine said. 'But some people said it was being... unkind.'

'They were only stupid, ugly people, Master,' Krystal said. 'It doesn't matter what they think, does it?'

'To me, no. I would be quite happy to dally with you as you are. But I must observe Gethyn's rules. That means that you must make amends to those you have wronged in the past, whether you feel they deserve it or not.'

'How, Master?' Hayley asked. 'Give them money?'

'No, something far more precious. You must offer them your pretty bodies in pain and humiliation and submission.'

His words were so shocking that they all spoke at once.

'What?' 'You mean let them... screw us and hurt us!' 'No way!' 'We can't do that!'

'Then you cannot have what the stone can give, and I will sleep for another thousand years,' Phyone said with stark simplicity.

Jasmine's voice rose over the rest. 'Remember what we're doing this for. We might not like it, but if there's no other way, we have no choice. All right, Master, we'll do it.'

'There is more. Gethyn also demanded that any woman drawn to me must have a man to oversee and witness her efforts. He thought that might check her temptation. It is a condition of my freedom. You must choose somebody of honour and rectitude.'

The women looked at a loss. 'We haven't got anybody like that, Master,' Jasmine explained. Nobody we'd trust to do a thing like this.'

'Are none of you married?'

'No, Master.'

'How old are you?'

'Twenty-three, Master.'

'So old and yet unwed. What a strange world. But I sense there have been men in your past. Not foolish swains but someone wiser. A man you have also wronged. I felt him I your minds. What is his name? A woodworker? But he works with exotic devices that seem to feed on numbers...'

Krystal started. 'Oh God. I think he means Andrew Carpenter!'

'Oh no!' Hayley exclaimed.

'Yes,' Phyone said firmly. 'Andrew Carpenter. Tell him all and beg his forgiveness for your past sins against him. Beg for chastisement, offer him your bodies as payment. He must forgive you or you will never free me and get your reward.'

The girls were squirming in revulsion at the thought. 'No... we can't... not him!'

'The gift of the stone is not given away lightly. Gethyn's will demands that you earn it through sacrifice to prove that you are worthy.' He chuckled. 'I think he imagined this would deter women from raising me, but I know them better. Be that as it may, the path still has to be followed. Carpenter will be your guide and witness. Submit to his judgement. Humble yourselves and make your peace with him. He will find five others that you have wronged, and you will offer yourselves to them also. When you are pardoned by them all, return here with Carpenter and a record of their forgiveness and I will tell you what to do next.'

The voice faded and the barn was just a cold decrepit barn again.

The women shivered, suddenly aware of their nakedness. They dressed hurriedly and left the barn in a daze: sore but elated. Had they really just been talking to a thing out of myth and legend? Yes! But they were also sick at the thought of what they must do next.