There she lay, strapped on a table or a bed. She couldn't quite make it out what it was she was lying on. It wasn't uncomfortably hard, however it wasn't very comfortably either. She felt her hands were tied at the wrists. Her feet were tied at the ankles. Her legs spread apart. She was naked. She began to realize she'd been blindfolded as well, unable to see her surroundings. She felt the jute on her face covering her eyes. She wondered where she was.

Then she became aware of the sounds surrounding her. It were familiar sounds. She might still be in her own settlement. The air was both chilly and a bit damp, probably from the rain they had had in the previous days.

How did she get here? Wherever here was, because she was still uncertain to her whereabouts. What happened? Questions started to form in her mind. Why was she here? Who took her? Who tied her up? Why? She began to go over the day, trying to remember how she came to be in this vulnerable situation.

The morning had started like most mornings. She worked in the field to ensure a meal. Being a young widow she was left to fend for her own. The people of her community would probably expect her to marry again after her mourning period had ended. Without any dowery she had little to expect from a future husband. But that was only one reason she wasn't rushing to end her mourning period. So far she was getting by on hard work. It kept her alive. After the morning ended and she was done working the fields, she mended some clothes. Then she took part of her crops into the settlement to trade them for milk. Did she get the milk? Did she make the trade? She couldn't remember. It was all dark to her, as dark as her surroundings.

She somehow knew it was still during the day. She heard something stumbling around her. Suddenly she felt something stuffed into her mouth. It was jute by the smell and taste of it. She felt coarse hands braze her face as more of the fabric was crammed in her mouth. Now unable to scream as well she felt a panic rush through her body. So far she'd been remarkably calm. No not calm, but wondering, puzzled. Being gagged somehow made things real. It brought her thoughts back from searching after the lost memory of how she got here to the danger she was currently in.

Then she felt the same coarse hands tug the ropes which tied her hands. The rag in her mouth muffled a squeal. She could smell whoever was tugging the ropes. She smelt sweat, she smelt dirt. She smelled what she believed to be a peasant like herself. 

The bounds on her feet were checked next. The fear took over her breathing as her heart started to race. What would happen next? Somehow her mind blocked every thought about all the terrible things that might happen. That could happen. That were about to happen.

Breathing fast and shallow she felt something touch her inner leg. It was a soft touch, which confused her immensely. She had not expected anything soft, anything gentle to happen. She could make out a warm hand. There. On her leg. Touching her. Caressing even. Panic and confusion took turns overtaking her and she was left unable to think of a way out. It never came to her mind to start screaming. Then again the jute gag stuffed deep in her mouth made it impossible anyway. The hand rested on her leg. On the inside of her leg. On the inside of her spread legs. Her naked spread legs. Thoughts tumbled through her mind and none of them made any sense to her.

How long that hand rested there she did not know. A minute? Maybe 10 minutes? She started to calm down a bit, still feeling highly uncertain of her situation, but the panic subsided slowly. Her breathing became less rapid. Her muscles less tensed. It was like the hand had waited for this to happen, because as soon as she started to relax her muscles the hand moved up. Panic was her master again. Her muscles tensed again. And the hand rested there, on the inside of her naked leg again, only higher then before. She now knew what would happen. It would move further up. It would touch her. She knew without a doubt. And knowing made her feel a bit more at ease. No not at ease, less restless. It made her feel less restless.

And once more the tension of her muscles broke.

The hand moved up, as she knew it would. Then it paused. It gripped her leg. A firm grip, yet gentle enough not to hurt her. Realizing she'd not been hurt yet made her uncertain, but before she could give that feeling any deeper thought the hand moved up again, all the way up to her sex. To her surprise, amazement even, she felt a finger play with her bushy hair. Twirling the hairs around the finger, softly tugging, but never causing discomfort or even pain. She was completely focused on what was happening to the most private piece of her body. The fingers caressed her lips, softly, gently. Then pushing them apart a bit, a single finger slid down in her slit. Again her muscles tensed, but this time it were only those intimate muscles. Again she wondered what would happen. But there was no fear. The gentleness of the touch had extinguished the fear, at least for now.

Then the finger moved up her slit again, pressing softly down on her clitoris. The realization that the intrusion of her body about to get complete mixed itself with a longing for pleasure. A longing to feel like a woman once more. A real woman, not the peasant woman that worked the fields and struggled to get by. No, a different kind of woman. A woman that she hadn't been since she had been widowed. A woman that lay down with her man. She felt the finger rub circles. Her body answered the pleasurable feeling with little twitches coming from deep inside her. Inside, where the hand, where the man that this hand belonged to, was about to protrude. She felt herself getting wet at the thought. And he felt it too. On his finger. The finger that now slid inside her sex, the finger that brought a mate. 

The fingers filled her up as the palm of his hand rubbed gently but sternly on her clit. Without her realizing it, he'd worked her towards an orgasm she was about to have. Every muscle inside her lower body started to twitch as the orgasm rolled over her. Surprise and pleasure were now taking her over. And he answered with giving her more. The fingers moving aptly inside her, his palm still resting, pressing on her clit, she began to meet his movements.

The took the rag out of her mouth to allow her to breathe. And breathing she did. She started breathing heavily, overtaken by the pleasure he gave her. A pleasure she hadn't realized she missed. As a second orgasm ripped through her body he pulled his fingers out. For a short moment she whimpered, only to feel his cock poking between her moist lips now. Arching her pelvis, she tried to meet his hardness which slid in right away. All the way. Effortless. Deep. Filling her up where she wanted to be filled. She moaned as he started thrusting in and out. She smelled him as he leaned in on her. She felt his lips on a nipple, sucking it straight up. She liked his smell. It was the smell of sweat, fresh sweat. The smell of pleasure. A manly smell. A good smell. It made her feel greedy. She sniffed up his smell as he thrusted on. She wanted to smell him. She wanted to feel him. She lifted her head to meet his body as she wanted to taste him. Lust took over. She wanted him. Needed him. Right there and then. As he took what he wanted without asking, she was only happy to give him all she had.

The pounding of his hard cock inside her grew heavier. His cock grew thicker. He was about to cum. And she was lost in lust. Her muscles squeezed his hardness, milked his every drop and then she exploded into her final orgasm. She sank down onto whatever it was she lay on and felt him resting on top of her. Then a gentle hand touched her face. Touched the cloth that blindfolded her. Softly he removed it. She blinked looking at him. Who was he? She'd never seen him before. She looked at her surroundings as well. It seemed to be some kind of barn. She turned her attention back to him. He looked well groomed. He looked sophisticated, especially compared to the peasant girl she was. Yet his actions had not been sophisticated at all. It all began to dawn on her. And before the thought of being fucked by a stranger had settled in her mind he spoke “I'm Sir Edgar”...