Apparently, Johnny figured that the country fair was the perfect place to part ways. There were dozens of decent people who would take in a little-girl runaway, who’d keep her safe until she figured out her future. He was tired of trying to figure out her complicated psyche and dealing with demands he had no way to satisfy. Besides, the open road was calling him.
Jill wasn’t particularly upset; she knew his generosity was wearing thin and the sex would never be as good as it had been under the bridge. And then there was also that relationship issue, the odd ideal in her romantic mind that somewhere there was a lover, a boyfriend, a man of some substance who would perfectly understand her quirky sexuality and adore the illogical woman she’d become.
Still, with Johnny Gold ready to leave her, she was confused about what to do next and had little choice but to turn her attention the country fair. Safe harbor? Perhaps.
The fair sat nestled against the golden hills, in an out of the way valley, a surreal jewel emerging out of almost nothing. Out of rock and low scrub bushes and gnarled trees, its bright flags waved an alluring welcome—like a sinister stranger luring a child with chocolate candy? Or was its lure as innocent as it first appeared? Jill could not be sure.
The country fair was a fantasy dream in Technicolor with strange looking body-painted females of all ages dancing about with big smiles on their faces and crowns of flowers trailing off their heads. Most of the women were as bare-chested as the men were. And some wore nothing at all but painstakingly painted scenes of debauchery and flowers across their private and not-so-private parts. She gazed in wonder at peony breasts, daisy tits and animals painted on asses—just to name a few inventive designs that shocked the novice Jill. She walked through the gate on Johnny’s arm with eyes in awe, bugged out like a frog’s—which happened to be the theme of first body painting she laid eyes on. Thankfully, no one took offense if you just plain stared, especially not the big guy with his chest painted green and a gooney-eyed frog on his belly.
The shocking images made her body crazed in the strangest ways—with compelling desires she’d never felt in quite this way. Her chest beat like a kettledrum. And she was totally speechless as she gazed in fascinated awe. She’d been kinky, no doubt about that. But hundreds of reveling fair-goers playing Bacchanalian games in pursuit of out-in-the-open screwing had to be the most outrageous thing she’d ever seen—far surpassing her arcane sessions behind closed doors in private places. If she’d had the guts to put her fingers to her clit as she watched the show before her, she could have come instantly from the erotic input—but she wasn’t that daring.
“This is Nirvana,” Johnny introduced her to a slight, willowy woman wearing nothing but a grass skirt and a painted bra—ocean waves that lapped about her pointy nipples.
Not a shy bone in her body, the blonde Nirvana reached out to Jill and grabbed her arms, drawing in for an innocent kiss on the mouth. It happened so fast that Jill’s instinct to recoil failed to engage. “Welcome,” the woman said in a breathy, ethereal voice. Was she real, or just the sprightly phantom she appeared to be?
“You’ll make her comfortable?” Johnny asked. His request carried some urgency since he was waiting to take off on with his bike unencumbered.
“Of course. You’re a darling,” she gushed at the bewildered newcomer. Then she looped her arm through Jill’s and the two walked away from a happy Johnny Gold. It didn’t take him ten seconds to quit the scene and rev up his bike for the long ride ahead.
“Maybe you’d like a body painting?” Nirvana immediately suggested. “I’ll take you to the tent and you can look around at the designs. Or, you can make up your own.” The woman reminded Jill of a character from Midsummer Night’s Dream—the dream, not the reality, a friend of Puck’s, a fairy goddess; she was far too forceful to be a mere princess.
Jill left the body painting tent an hour later with her breasts as bare as every other female in the campsite. However, a bra of painted roses circled her chest making the exposure much less threatening. She moved through the fair in the company of three new friends she was sure were bonded to her for life. They bought tacos and candy from the vendors, laughing as they ate until their tummies were full to bursting. Then they watched sixteenth century jousting in one arena and a mock trial in another. The defendant in the trial lost his case in some trumped-up charge that made everyone laugh uproariously. Sentenced to a blackguard’s rightful retribution, he was summarily flogged with surprising vigor and then thrown into an oxcart prison, in which he was be driven around the camp and taunted with lurid grins and pelted with tomatoes. He was later stripped naked and his legs and hands secured inside a pillory. His big white ass hung out, baiting anyone with a whip to strike it hard. The fellow seemed to take his fate in good spirits with as much merriment as his accusers, punishers and tormentors.
“What did he do to deserve that?” Jill whispered to Ariana—another of her new best friends. The heavyset woman seemed as gracefully faerie-like as Nirvana, although the two were nothing alike in appearance. Where Nirvana looked as if she might float away on a puff of air, Ariana’s ample body was substantially attached to the earth beneath her bare feet. She had a garish package of physical attributes. Her enormous breasts were lifted high inside the strict structure of a steel-boned corset and were painted with the faces of two lusty-eyed women. Her long locks of wheat-colored hair had been braided with ribbons and feathers and pieces of fur, as if she were a wild animal just emerging from the darkness of a lonely night on a lonely mountaintop. This earthy sprite warmed Jill to her core when she grabbed her away from Nirvana and took charge of the cautious neophyte.
“What did he do to deserve his punishment?” Ariana repeated the question. “Why, he spit on the ground, of course.”
“What? That’s all?”
“An egregious error,” the woman spoke with mock indignation. Then she laughed, a full, beautiful belly laugh that seemed to shake the ground at her feet. “That’s the game, my pet. Everyday, our ruling council makes up new rules for the fair, and then issues them to their constables, who are obliged to enforce them with the heavy hand of authority. Of course, they aren’t published to the rest of us,” she said on the sly, “so no one knows if they are breaking the law or not.”
“And this is fun?”
“You don’t think so?” Ariana questioned her, looking perplexed.
“Yes, I guess it is,” Jill smiled. “Just odd.”
“Of course, it’s odd. That’s what we do. We’re a slap in the face of everything ‘decent’ in the outer lands. The fair is our one chance during the year to disown the pretension of the everyday world and do whatever we damned well please. We’d fornicate with gamecocks and donkeys if we’re so inclined—and I’m sure some do. We belong to ourselves, pet, no one else. No one tells us what to do.”
“And what do you do with the rest of the year?” Jill asked.
“Plan the fair,” she stated flatly with an impish twinkle in her pale blue eyes. “We’re not your usual lot, not a group of bankers and lawyers and school teaches being naughty on a lark. We’re heathens, born again pagans, artisans, witches, playwrights, gypsies, lesbians, polyamorous lovers. Definitely fringe people twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, she said proudly. You won’t find a stranger, or more generous group of people anywhere. If you stick around, which I know you will, you’ll learn to love us the way we love you.”
“How can you love me if you don’t know me?”
“Oh, but we do know you, pet, your face is written with dreams that are easy to decipher. Your pain, your crude joy—and it’s very crude from what I gather—your hardships and your current dilemma, nothing’s hidden. That is why we love you—and with a name like Jillian. Ah!” She looked to the sky with an effervescent gladness. “It speaks of the hinterlands, of elfish goblins and mischievous brownies, and grouchy gnomes.”
“My name tells you that?” She hadn’t actually recalled be introduced as Jilli
an, just Jill.
“You don’t even have to change your name like the rest of us have had to. You were born gifted with the talent for being odd. Be grateful.”
The effusive Ariana finished with her discourse, and with Nirvana skipping beside them and Regalia, a sexy voluptuary making lewd eye-contact with Jill every time their eyes met, hanging onto Ari, the quartet moved on without further comment to another exhibit.
This one was even more amazing and dreadful, and terribly arousing to the uninitiated Jill. A group of naked women were rounded up in a paddock and picked off one by one, roped like cattle by ‘cowboys’ on the sidelines. Once snared with the lasso, the woman submitted to a rousing bare-bottomed spanking from her captor—before a cheering, cat-calling audience, that expected the spanking to continue until the poor woman’s behind was quite literally blistered raw. The lucky cowboys punished the resplendent flesh with wooden paddles, bundles of birch branches, skinny, biting switches, horsehair floggers and leather belts, while the cries that lifted into the warm air were filled with woe and something akin to erotic ecstasy.
It wasn’t clear at all if the women hated the brutal treatment, or it was just a prelude to sex. In some cases the sex followed in full view of the jeering audience—with a few men shouting, “Ram the bitch hard!’ and “Take her fucking ass!” as encouragement. As if they were following orders, the cowboys gave the fairgoers a damned good show of fucking prowess. Their ready cocks ejaculated wads of sticky jism into tightly, grasping places, while the powerful effect of the sex act climbed inside the groin of everyone attending, raising spirits high and the creating the desire for more debauchery.
Jill’s face flushed with embarrassment as the scheme unfolded beginning to end, as she watched in wonder as each woman’s naked ass turned scarlet.
The only woman to escape getting spanked—and fucked—was the last one standing in the paddock after all the others had been caught. She looked sadly disappointed, until a burly fellow, who’d already screwed his captive beauty, picked the woman up and flung her over his massive shoulder, carrying her off into the woods.
“What’s going to happen to that one?” Jill asked Ariana, referring to the flailing woman who’d been carried away.
“If you listen hard, you’ll hear,” her friend answered with a merry smile. “Usually, the one left out gets the worst of it. I suspect she’ll be tied to a tree, but I hear—and this is just a rumor—if any woman follows them into the trees, she’ll be strung up with them.”
“And would that be so bad?” Jill wondered, without realizing what she was saying.
Ariana’s eyes lit with amused glee. “Oh, you’re not a novice at all, are you?” she whispered in Jill’s ear, as if the piece of a puzzle had finally found its place.
Jill pulled back. “Why would you say that?”
“‘And would it be so bad?’ That’s quite a question for a novice,” she concluded with smug satisfaction. “Oh, I was right about you, pet. Not only do you want it, you’ve played in this arena before.” She sounded absolutely certain of the fact.
Jill looked at her dumbfounded.
“Oh no, not this arena, but you’ve been on the bottom of raunchy scenes more than once.”
Jill blushed. “How can you tell?”
“Your face gives you away, your eyes, your speech. And you’re quivering like a racehorse pawing at the gate. I told you before how transparent you are. Plus,” she added haughtily, “I’m a mind reader.”
Sure. Of course, she was a mind reader, Jill thought. She would have liked to have made light of the woman’s conclusions, but she was so right on as if there was a psychic connection between them—and everyone at this country pleasure fair.
The festivities of the day ended before Jill was encouraged to participate in the games. She was there to watch, she had decided, and no one leaned on her for more. Near dusk, however, the mood of the fete changed, following the sunset into in another realm. The women went to the river and quietly washed the body paint from their flesh, as if they were performing a sacred rite. They emerged from the cleansing waters, fresh, unencumbered and brazenly expecting some sexual antics for the night. Still, they remained quietly subdued; the merriment of the day had taken a more solemn, though no less alluring, turn. Jill followed along with the others, and was pulled into one of the sleeping tents with Ariana, Nirvana, Regalia and two other women—blonde twins. Inside, they all tumbled into a bed of pillows and began making love.
The flesh of then woman smelled sweet; touching them sent euphoric tickles through Jill’s sex-anxious body. The stirring lust that traveled like a warm fog through the fair made her climax moments after a rapacious female mouth settled at her vagina to suck. Just as she was beginning to return from her effervescent high, Nirvana straddled her head, sitting with her cunt against Jill’s face, so it was impossible not to confront the nest of kinky curls and respond to the fragrant pussy at her nose and mouth. The woman smelled strangely—like apricots and wine, which seemed as odd to Jill as everything else in this up-side-down world. She sucked on the fragrant snatch as if she were obliged. And yet, she found the lesbian sex act surfaced from her naturally, effortlessly, even as she felt the continued oral stimulation between her legs produce repeated orgasms in her own body. It seemed strange that she could climax, raising her groin to meet the woman’s face in a demanding gesture of wanting, while at the same time, feed on the pretty Nirvana like the woman was real food.
All around her, the tent swam with female bodies engaged in the act of pleasure. Thick thighs pressed against slender ones, faces burrowed between full-bodied breasts, lips and tongues lapped at salty, sweaty skin, and little caws and mews gave way to sensuous orgasmic cries—a fine concerto in feminine voices.
Straddling Regalia as Nirvana had her, Jill rode the woman’s face with happy abandon, her breasts bobbing like water balloons. Her cunt ground naughtily, insistently into the woman’s lips and tongue. Regalia might have been the youngest at the fair, but she was as experienced as the sexual veterans in giving pleasure. Jill’s body surged almost angrily in a flippant retort to the men in her life—Christopher and Johnny Gold. She didn’t need them now!
Regalia bit her clitoris so hard that it should have hurt. But instead of crying, she giggled, and twisted and squirmed on the hard-working face, asking for more.
“You randy little pet,” Ariana cooed as she gently slapped Jill’s bouncing tits. “Don’t smother the child.”
“Oh, she’s doing just fine, aren’t you, little slut?” She raised her crotch enough off the girl’s face to see Regalia’s cum-soaked mouth and cheeks.
“I am, ma’am, and I’ll suck you dry,” Regalia vowed sassily, as she deliberately pulled Jill back down to her face.
Jill felt as if her head were in the clouds, as if she’d found freedom—a better freedom than on the back of Johnny’s bike. She would never want this night to end.
Partners and pairings changed through the evening, although no one entered the Tent of Sapphos but women—which Jill finally realized was one of the many rules that bound the participants in these sexual rites together. Eventually, the tent quieted as the women, spent from sex and simply too tired for more, collapsed into the bed of body parts and sensuous sighs and drifted to sleep.
Toward morning, Jill turned, slightly roused, finding an unknown woman’s mouth clamped to her ass, sucking her asshole as if she were being prepared for something special. The tongue circled her anus and deftly poked its way inside, sending a shower of new sensation through her wakening loins. The other women in the tent were slowly drawn into the scene and, oddly, focused solely on her—although she was too engaged by their attentive play to worry about what her good fortune might mean.
Cumming again, as three insistent fingers pummeled her rear opening, she felt herself suddenly lifted from the pillows by a dozen hands and taken into the open air. The cool of the early morning hours hit her like the frost of autumn, but it stung only briefly. Her body
warmed to another climax. The women hadn’t stopped their play, just changed the venue.
In the center of the grounds stood a long flat stone about three feet high, where they laid Jill down. The women continued to stroke, grasp, kiss and maul her responding body, although now, their hands moved with urgent passion, as if something important was about to happen. They whispered encouragement into her ears. She’d remember the sibilant sounds of seduction, but not the words. She would remember later how she replied with her lips curling into a pleasured smile.
But soon, the women began to drift away, until there was just Nirvana at her side, holding her hand and staring into her face with a compassionate expression. She hardly noticed until then that her legs were splayed wide and her ass hung off the end of the stone table, as if the scene with the women was only the beginning.
Jill looked around, seeing the dawn break on the horizon—a thin band of golden light that blinded her until a dark shadow suddenly obstructed her view. That’s all she saw before the first blast of male passion reamed her ass with a nasty shove. A hefty fellow that she remembered from the cowboy spankings held onto her legs and thrust with piston-like force into the prepared space. Despite the fact that this was her sometimes-reluctant ass getting forcefully attacked, the channel opened with little effort. Obviously, her sisters had done their job well. A firestorm of sparks burst inside her brain, sending showers of sensation through her body. She lit like a Roman candle, from her groin to the tips of her fingers and far beyond them in great streamers of sexual energy. The man was coarse, abandoning any of the niceties of sex as he fucked her with unrestrained zeal. She felt his crescendo like a tidal wave passing through her, from ebb to crest, to the grand finale when he came groaning loudly while rutting to the finish.
The initiating fuck was followed by another cock in her cunt… then a second fucking in the ass… and others coming to her for their pleasure until she couldn’t count how many deposited their seed and then fled. She quit looking at faces, although each faceless, nameless man brought her to another level of sensation. Each man was bold, even defiant, and certainly urgent. And like the compliant servant she had always been with Christopher, she responded as if this were simply another of his assignments. Her own climaxes were intense at the start, but then ceased altogether after the fourth man slipped away. By then, she was no more than a receptacle, a body, a piece of meat to be devoured and finally cast aside once she served her purpose.
Bounty Hunter Page 10
