Dreaming Innocence

Posted by rache on September 29, 2004 at 17:29:43:

Written for the worst story contest at Sam's Place

I started this when I was 14, no lie and it has been sitting in one of my notebooks forever. It wasn't quite so graphic then, but every bit as sugary. I don't write period pieces for a reason...this is why.

Dreaming Innocence
by rachael

It came upon her as a soft desire, like the touch of a butterfly's wing upon her heart.

Camille had been sitting quietly in the glade, her 'Secret' place, as she was wont to do in this, the spring of her youth. Smiling softly in the dappled sunlight, warm upon her skin, she wove a clutch of daisies into her hair and smiled happily at her reflection in the dreaming pool.

She lay on the cool grass, watching love birds pair off and flit from branch to branch. Camille sang to them softly with a melody all her own. They answered her in kind, the song carrying gently through the trees. Camille closed her eyes to embrace the splendid dreams of innocent youth.

Her hands smoothed the seams of her gown with a soft rustle of silk. Just a touch, but could she dare? A stranger's hands she imagined, gentle and knowing. She cupped the fullness of her breast, gently pressing with her palm to feel the beating of her heart. Camille sensed a warmth growing slowly, her nipples hardening beneath the light fabric. She teased herself gently, a soft pinch, a slight pull.

A cool breeze blew across her face, bringing with it Camille's golden hair. It fell across her full red lips and it became his hair, and his cool breath upon her cheek. She parted her lips slightly and caught a strand between them. The warmth was spreading lower, across the flatness, lower to her thighs.

She moaned softly as the stranger in her dream pressed himself against her. His hand went between her legs, beneath the tresses of her skirt. Soft fingers against the heat of her sex. Camille stroked herself through the cotton of her slip. She lifted her hips slightly, pressing a little harder to bring forth a tender sigh. Urgent fingers undid the buttons at her throat and she pulled the silk back to feel her hot skin flushing against the cool air. She released her ripe breasts from their soft bondage, flawless in their pearl hue. The aureoles, a reddish pink with tiny goose bumps surrounding the stiff nipples. Camille pinched one hard and felt the blood rising in her cheeks. She lifted a finger to her tongue, tasted it briefly and let it moisten her nipples. She rubbed them in small circles, sighing in her pleasure. Camille pressed her other hand against the urgency of her pubis, finding the dampness of her slit with stiff fingers. She ran along it slowly, then faster, moving her hips in dreaming lust.

The forest was lost to her now, and she to it. As her body released itself to erotic fever, Camille found herself in the darkness of her mind. A chamber, gently lit by candles and mistress moon through windows high above. Her pale flesh upon a satin sheets and fingers stroking her hair. Just a touch and then a kiss, Camille yielding to her dream.

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The man walked in melancholy. Amongst the forest's beauty he could see naught but fallen leaves, brown and dead. He had been a guest of his uncle's for little more than a fortnight, but his spirit, restless in its youth, would not give him to enjoin the peace of this pleasant country. He walked alone annoyed at the tameness of it all, fingering the pommel of his sword, useless in the face of serenity.

He found himself imagining a lightful tune, carried on the breeze. "By all the Saints," he sighed. "What place is this that colours me a dreaming fool?" He set himself upon his path, but soon found himself listening again, all the more intent on finding the source of this strange melody...

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Camille, lost to the sweetness of her dream, did not hear his soft approach. Lucian stood just where the forest gave way to the lovely glade, captivated by the sight before him: A maiden upon the grass, her pale form moving slowly in the filtered sun. He could see her eyes were closed, her mouth open, surrendering uneven moans as her fingers worked unseen between her thighs. Her long, white dress was bunched up, around her hips and her lovely breasts were bare to his gaze.

Lucian didn't know how long he stood there watching, taking in this marvelous unexpected sight. He carefully removed his belt, letting sword and pouch slip quietly to the ground. He crept slowly, keeping behind the writhing nymph. His body was hot, like he had been too long in the desert; his throat dry and he licked his lips with dared anticipation. Lucian unbuttoned his tunic slightly, letting the cool air caress his bared chest.

The softness of the grass and the intensity of the girl's pleasure conspired to hide his eager step. Lucian knelt behind her, close enough to smell the delicate musk of her sex. He reached a hand slowly, gently to touch her hair. Lightly stroking the flaxen strands. Lucian tensed when he did this, expecting her to jump, or shout or draw away from this spying stranger. But she did none of these, she appeared not to notice. His touch had become a part of her dream, the mysterious man for whom she yearned.

Lucian grew more daring; he bent his head and took her to his mouth. His dry, full lips found the moist sweetness of hers and she moaned aloud inside him, sharing her breathless passion. Camille's lips parted and her soft pink tongue went gently inward, running along his teeth, searching his mouth for its lustful twin. Her free hand went to Lucian's head; fingers gripped the soft curls and held him close against her kiss.

The young prince worked awkwardly to free himself of his shirt, his lips locked to hers. He fumbled at the buttons, tearing the fabric away in his haste. Lucian lay beside Camille on the cool lawn, pulling her close. The pinpoints of fire her nipples had become, burning into his bare flesh. She poured her kisses onto his lips, his eyes, his cheek and neck. Lucian himself did the same, nibbling at her soft earlobes and was rewarded with a soft hiss of pleasure.

Camille moved her hand down, dragging fingertips along the stranger's shoulders and lower to find the outline of his hardened manhood, straining for release. She worked open his leather pant, and slipped her hand inside. Soft fingers gripped the hard shaft, squeezing the hot flesh and stroking slowly from tip to base and back. Lucian rolled to his back, pulling Camille atop him. She knelt across his pelvis, reaching with eyes closed to guide his hard cock to her tender folds. She rubbed the head back and forth across her moist slit, her juices flowing freely onto Lucian's cock poised beneath her. She lowered her hips, slowly with a little circular motion Lucian found most pleasing. He sighed as he felt the tightness of her sex gripping him. She was moving slowly downward and Lucian did not rush. He just looked up at her beautiful face flushed with ecstasy, her mouth open and catching a sharp breath.

He felt himself about halfway in, and his cockhead pressed against something hard, something yielding only slightly to the pressure. Camille lifted herself again, pulling herself almost completely off him, before gently pushing herself back down. This time the resistance was less and the penetration deeper, easier...But still the point was reached where Camille would gasp and bite her lip, and then ease herself off. Lucian placed his hands on her hips, squeezing her soft flesh through thin clouds of silk.

He pulled her down this time, unable to hold himself back against that sweet torture. When the point was reached that Camille started to lift again, Lucian thrust his hips gently upward and pulled the girl to impale her sex upon his cock. A gasp and soft tremble joined the feeling of his cock pushing past her torn hymen. Camille began moving frantically against the terrible delight of pain and pleasure combined. She had never been filled with a man before and she sought to find some feeling of comfort, a sense of familiarity, but there was none to be had. She blindly tried to push herself off, but only weakly in mock protest and Lucian held her firm, pushing himself in until their joining was complete. Camille panted and fell upon him, burying her face against his neck while her lover wrapped her in his strong arms, his cock reaching for her womb.

He kissed her and stroked her hair. Small tears came from her clenched eyes and he kissed them away. Camille's body, tingled and ached, she was growing used to the manhood buried inside her and her muscles clenched and released involuntarily. She began moving slowly, her clit hard and begging for attention. She ground herself against him gently, softly and Lucian began moving with her. Occasionally some new part of her would be touched and Camille would gasp or stop suddenly and he along with her until she began to move herself against his shaft again. Camille began lifting herself, allowing him to love her with long slow strokes. The juices of their union flowed down, around his shaft, hot and burning with pleasure.

The two lovers began moving faster, little stabs of pain still shot through Camille, but they were immediately lost to the overwhelming urgency of desire. She began to feel the orgasm she sought rising from the depths of their lovemaking, her body tensed and she moved wildly against him. Her lips frantically sought his, biting his lips, pulling at them until small spots of blood appeared, adding to the blush of Lucian's own efforts. He was lifting his pelvis hard against her, pressing himself as deeply as possible with each quick stroke. The young Prince groaned as he felt himself drawing towards his own brink of self-control. Faster, deeper they moved together, two lovers joined as one. Lucian's fiery shaft filling her tight sex completely, her velvet walls clutching at him with tiny spasms of ecstasy.

Camille arched her back, pressing her hands to Lucian's chest and tilting her face to canopy high above. Her voice cried out sweetly, filling the glade with her passionate song. Her body pressed against him, shivering in the throes of pleasure, brought Lucian to his own orgasm. His cock swelled against the sweet confines of Camille's sex and his own soft voice echoed hers. Lucian's cock jerked with every beat of his heart, spilling his seed deep inside to mix with her own. They kissed hard in that moment, their tongues striving for dominance between them. Her breasts were pressed flat against his smooth chest and they slowed as the desperation passed. Lucian's cock still buried deeply in Camille's womb, she finally lay still upon him. Her labored breathing slowed and became gentle. Lucian pulled the girl close and held her sleeping in his arms, feeling her heart against his own.

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Camille awoke as the last ray of golden sunlight fell through the trees. She swept the air with her hand, expecting to find her lover beside her. Nothing but the cool grass did her fingers touch. She sighed loudly and reason, the enemy of dreams, fell upon her. Camille looked wide eyed at her blouse, neatly buttoned her gown reaching gently to her ankles, each pleat and flourish neatly smoothed. She unconsciously pressed a hand between her thighs and felt a dull ache, a lingering wetness she dared not contemplate, but rather attribute to the innocence of dream.

As she gathered herself, rising slowly and intending to make her way back to the manor house of her Uncle, there came some shouting, and the sound of horses and men upon them. Camille followed her ears, turning her frowning face this way and that, moving as the sound grew louder. There were clashes of metal, the reverberations sending wildlife chittering about through the tree tops. The sound stopped as suddenly as it began, but not before the young woman found herself exiting into a clearing and seeing there a most handsome young man, sitting upon the ground.

He was nicked and cut in a dozen places. His breaches torn and his tunic rent along his ribs. His hair was disheveled and his eyes darted about like a caged animal's, looking for escape. But Camille saw also that he was surrounded by 6 men, her Uncle the Duke of Huxley, and five of his warders, young men of good birth whose fathers owed their lands and wealth to the Duke's generosity. They had swords drawn and they laughed and threatened the young man at their feet.

"Stop! Stop!" Camille burst through finally as her momentary surprise gave way.

"Camille?" Her Uncle tilted his head slightly, peering around the feathered cap of one of his companions. "What are you doing here?"

"I...I was walking." Camille breathed, looking wide-eyed from her Uncle down to the boy and back. "I heard a noise."

She felt the stirrings in her womb, the warmth of the stain within her. She recalled her dream, the vivid expression of her desires and the face and eyes her lusts had bequeathed. It was his face, his eyes that she remembered now. He had looked down upon her, she was certain of it, smiled and whispered and kissed her. Oh, such a dream no womanly wants should conspire. The ache between her legs now was a throbbing, as if the proximity of the man were enough to set her sex aflame.

And for his part, the lad stared at Camille, feeling the heat of his recent battle supplanted by the memories of her body beneath his, writhing gently, lifting, giving itself to him completely. His eyes lidded and color flushed his cheeks. He'd left her there, lying peacefully, still dreaming he'd thought, unknowing of the seed he'd planted so deeply within her womb. Oh, he wished, that the daughter of this man would remember him now, would speak out for him, urgently and ardent in her love. He thought he could detect it in her eyes, that same deft touch which even now, bloodied and bruised at the feet of his enemies, caressed his very soul.

"We caught him poaching." Camille's Uncle frowned at her.

"Who is he?" Camille whispered and took a hesitant step. Her heart was pounding now, her breasts seeming to swell so that all of the world conspired to constrict her voice.

"Lucian Collier." One of the young men pronounced. "The inn keeper's son."

"Likely one of the guests is missing a sword." Another laughed.

"At the least." The Duke nodded. "But he'll hang for poaching."

"What?" Camille gasped.

"Hang?" Lucian looked up sharply. "My Lord, I beg of you, I poached nothing! I was merely walking, I had no intention of..."

"Admit it, Lad." One of the men pricked Lucian's thigh with his sword point. "You're poaching."

"No!" He looked around desperately and his eyes finally fixed on Camille's. She had to know! Surely she could feel the broken bit of her maidenhood, the wetness between her legs. She'd opened her eyes once, he was sure of it. She had to know that she could save his life, not by admitting everything of course but by... "My Lord, I was...I was speaking to the Lady, I assure you, only peaking. I didn't know who she was." Surely she would save him now!

"Camille?" The Duke looked at the girl. "You know this boy?"

Camille stared down at Lucian, taking another step closer and nodding slowly. "Yes, Uncle." She swallowed and spoke slowly, unsure of what to say and fearing being caught in a lie. "We...spoke. Briefly."

"See?" Lucian looked around, smiling hopefully, trying to garner some mall favor for his life. "I wasn't poaching your Lordship, merely walking and uh, I bid the fair Miss hello."

Camille felt the wetness running between her legs now, ever more freely as it sought escape from the warm confines of her sex. She was sore, the pain was an ache now, but she understood finally what it meant. Something in the boy's face, in his eyes, told her that he'd taken her. That she'd had no dream at all, but a languid, sweet thrilling experience. Her virginity was gone. She did not need to see the blood she knew was running down her thighs, mixed with his semen. She could smell it, Camille thought. The man had been poaching, he was lying to them all, to her...He'd taken something far more valuable than a deer, however.

"Camille?" Her Uncle was looking at her.

She nodded again, licking her lips. "He was...uncouth, Uncle. He tried to...touch me." Camille's cheeks flushed and tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn't a lie, he had done precisely that and now, looking at her, he expected her to love him? "He told me...I thought," she corrected herself, "that he was a Prince."

"A prince? Ho ho!" The men laughed and shook there heads and Lucian stared at Camille with stark horror.

"No! Please my Lady, do not say such.."

"Shut up you!" One of the warders backhanded Lucian hard, snapping his head back and drawing blood from the young man's lips.

"Are you sure, Camille?" Her Uncle looked at the girl, but he had little doubt of her distress. "Did he...hurt you?" He asked somewhat more quietly.

"N-No, Uncle...merely frightened me." She straightened herself upright and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Do with him as you will, Uncle."

"Stake him out, lads. Such poor manners...and poaching, deserve roughshod." The Duke glanced at his niece. "Do you agree?"

"He deserves nothing less, Uncle."

"R-Roughshod?" Lucian looked around him, his voice quailing. "You mean to trample me? You Lordship, I beg you! I meant no dishonor to the girl!"

But the men were upon him, stripping Lucian roughly and tearing his tunic into strips so that they might use the cloth to tie him spread eagle to the ground. One of the men cut several branches, making stakes, while another stared at Lucian's member, laying small and flaccid between his pale thighs.

"Bit of blood on ya, boy." The warder observed. "What have ya got yourself into?"

"What's that?" The Duke glanced down from astride his horse and saw that the head and penis of the young man's cock was streaked with blood, barely dried by the looks of it.

"How'd ya get that, laddie?" One of the men kicked him.

They were tying him down now and the Duke rode around him slowly. "Speak up inn keeper, whose field have ye so recently plowed?"

The men laughed at the Duke's vulgar words, but none saw the shocked look on Camille's face. She'd known it, of course, she felt it and had relived it as she'd watched them strip and tie Lucian down. But there was more proof, her blood on his penis, foul filthy man! She spat on the ground.

"I...I cannot say, Sir!" Lucian closed his eyes, his body taut as it was pulled between the stakes. "She is an honorable woman, Lord...I...I love her."

Camille lifted her chin sharply at Lucian's words. Staring down at him between the legs of her Uncle's companions. He loved her? She felt her heart thumping madly, pounding in her ears so loudly she was surprised the rest of them couldn't hear it as well. "He loved her, this simple young man playing at nobility. An inn keeper�s son who steals swords and virginity as if they were plums on a windowsill. Some small part of her shuddered slightly at that, and her breasts ached suddenly. There was more to the warmth between her legs than just the rent in her flesh and the boy's seed, there was desire anew, a deep want growing all over again.

So be it..." The Duke rose quickly away and the other men mounted as well, all of them leading their horses to the far edge of the clearing so they could take a decent run at Lucian�s prone and exposed body

"Please!" Lucian looked at Camille. "Miss, my Lady, I meant you no harm...I didn't know...I love you! I swear it! Please, spare my life!"

"Say it again!" Camille looked at him there, a dozen feet away, taking in his naked form, so pretty and helpless, she thought.

"What?" Lucian looked at her, gasping. "What? I'm sorry...I'm so sorry my Lady!"

"No!" She shook her ead. "Tell me again, how you love me!"

"I do! Oh, Christ I love you!" Lucian was very nearly shouting with desperation. The Duke and his men had turned around, pausing as their mounts, huge stallions with iron shod hooves, pawed the earth impatiently.

"Did you...Did you really do it?" Camille felt her stomach contracting and her nipples ached horribly, urgent for release from their tight confines. "Did you make love to me?"

"Y-Yessss..." Lucian breathed. "I did! I'm sorry...I love you...Please, accept it! Tell them! Tell the Duke!"

The horses were running now, the Duke and his men could be heard shouting, spurring the great beasts on. The earth seemed to shake from the uneven pounding of those huge heavy hooves. The sound traveled through the hard rock and dirt, entering Lucian's body, shaking him so that the young main fairly wailed with fear. His eyes were wide and pleading, fixed on Camille's beautiful face.

"I love you!...No...Don't!...I love you!..."

He was begging now and Camille felt the flower of her sex blooming, as if she were still in her dream. The fire raged now, unabated as Lucian's fear filled the very air, carried on the wind to cloak her. She thrust a hand into the loose fabric of her gowns, pressing, seeking the place where touch was most desperately needed. She rubbed herself urgently, rocking her hips as she stood there, transfixed in her lover's gaze; and then as the fire swept through her blood, stealing from the girl all sensibility, she lost him to the blur of a half-dozen swift black forms, drowning Lucian's cries for love.

The heavy hooves thudded down with all the finality of an innocence forever lost, leaving naught behind but a single perfect memory in a dreaming woman's heart.

the end
rache696@yahoo.com