Wood Spirit 5

September 20, 1754

I am barely allowed to rise from the bed any longer. When I wake, a root is pressed in to my hand and I am to eat it where I lay. The entity does not trust me any longer. It is keeping me captive and God help me, I love my captivity.

Until you learn to be a proper wife. Until you learn to accept your fate as my chalice.

I sleep sporadically, and when I need to relieve the calls of nature, the chamber pot is brought to me along with water and milk. When I am through, the entity takes me again, sometimes with both it’s cocks – one for my mouth, one for my cunt.

I watch as the lesser, invisible beings keep the cabin neat and tidy – cleaning up after their master – our master – roughly uses me, whenever and however it desires. It coaxes my body to passion with gentle touches as I doze, until certain I am awake and then it uses my sex, abusing it until I am tender and sore, but sated.

It once forced itself into my poor, abused channel while I ate. Simply bent me over the table and lifted my shift to rock me back and forth on it’s length. After it spilled it’s seed inside of my womb, I finished eating as his children sucked me dry of our juices.

Sometimes I fight it, I scream and swing my arms at the air that shimmers with it’s presence which makes it laugh, but does not stop it.

Once I ran again for the door, only to be hauled back to my father’s bed and thrown down upon it to be used again. The force of that brutal fucking made the bed stand creak and snap, but I enjoyed it.

I am lying in bed now, the chemise it tore hanging in tatters on my body as it idly strokes my thighs while I write. I glance up at the sunlight beyond the opened door of the cabin now and then, surprised when I see wrapped bundles of food that have been placed outside the door floating in on unseen hands.

Our people leave you offerings. It whispers in my head, answering my unvoiced question. They wish you to be a good wife to their Great Spirit.

Naked to any being which should wander past, I am beyond caring as I lie on my side, the quill pot balanced precariously on the bed beside me as my phantom lover lifts one thigh and plasters it’s greedy mouth to my weeping sex.

I sigh in pleasure as it suckles me, opening my mouth when I feel the thick head of one of it’s cocks push gently at my lips for entry.

I shall continue later. The bed movements from our pleasure may upset the inkpot and stain the sheets.

A woman with long hair in a single thick braid down her back came to the cabin with Kaukesha after my invisible lover filled my belly full of it’s sweet tasting seed. I gathered the edges of my chemise closed, to display some sense of modesty when I saw their shadows on the grass before my opened door.

Come in. My lover whispered like a gentle breeze through the cabin as the two women hesitated outside the threshold, their eyes wide and staring as the unseen smaller phantoms continued to work and clean.

“I bring gifts to the great mother.” The woman said in halting French, making my heart lift a little in joy when I heard my native tongue as I watched her bow her head and place the corn flour on the table. “I bring the greetings and thanks of the tribe for being wife to the Great spirit.”

I forced the caustic remark on my tongue back, not wishing to anger my lover though I was not pleased with being trapped in my home.

“I am not the great mother.” I whisper back in French, making the woman’s dark eyes dart up to meet mine.

She nods slowly. “You are consort to the great spirit.”

I lift one red brow, giving a small nod and wondering if the entity understands the exchange.

She is not always a proper wife. But she makes us happy when she is. Tell her what that means to my people.

“Being his consort makes the great spirit happy, and the great spirit gifts us with good hunting and harvests. You care for him and we will share his bounty with you.” She whispered, ducking her head as the great spirit’s presence shimmered above her. “Please be a good mate to the spirit so our fortune will continue.”

Will you exchange yourself for her when she is not being a proper wife?

The woman’s body quivered, and I knew that she was feeling the same whisper of passion I felt when it spoke to me. Heated jealousy rose up in my chest, making my stomach clench as I watched my phantom lover’s invisible fingers lift the thick braid of hair from the woman’s back. Again she shivered beneath her doeskin dress and the color in my face rose.

Kaukesha’s head was still bowed, as if she were afraid to look upon me and I taunted the entity whose eyes I felt burn into my skin by letting the torn shift slip from my shoulder to expose one tiny breast as the worn material hung on one long nipple, teasing it.

“I will do as the great spirit wishes.” The woman whispered, still afraid to look up – afraid of what she would see like I was when I was first raped by it.

You would be a dutiful and proper wife?

I licked my lips, feeling the smaller phantoms go still at my teasing their master, but still I let the material slip from the other shoulder to expose the pert breast hidden beneath it. I opened my knees a touch, feeling my sex grow wet for my lover, wanting to feel it’s rough hands on me, bruising me.

Go. I need my mate.

The two women jumped up and almost ran from the cabin as the entity’s invisible presence bore me back on to the bed, the strong hands gripping my thighs and pushing them up to lift my hips toward it’s huge, invisible organ again. Uncaring if the women beyond the open door can see me, I open my legs wider for the massive presence over me. I felt the phallus push inside me, past the tight ring of my outer lips until it’s thickness was housed deep within me. I heard it sigh in my head when the head of it’s cock was firmly ensconced in my tight cunny and I sighed too.

My wife.

“My lover.” I whispered back as it bore my arms up above my head to pin them there, leaving me to clench the quilt in my hands as it began to move in and above me, shimmering dust motes caught in the net of it’s invisible presence.

My cunt.

“Your cunt.” I replied, wiggling in an attempt to have it bruise me, take me forcefully.

I will fuck my cunt. I will fill your belly with seed until your ripe womb is planted.

“Yyyeesssss….” I hiss as it begins to move with more purpose, a little more brutal. I love this edge to it’s assaults. I love it when it rapes me. “Fuck me, fuck me. Never leave me.”

I will fuck you. I will fuck you until your belly grows big with our children again and again.

It pushes down harder, feeding more of it’s enormous organ into my clenching channel until it is wedged hard against the entrance to my womb, making me wiggle and scream in pleasure again and again. It pulls, withdrawing and then slamming the long, thick phallus deep inside once more, pushing me down into the corn husk filled mattress as it once more stretches me wide.

“Mmmmmm.” I moan, hearing the crackle of the husks beneath my head, feeling the being’s excitement grow when I wiggle again, as if I am trying to get away.

My cunt! It shouts in my head as I laugh in joy, lifting my hips up higher to meet it’s demanding thrusts, feeling it bruise my womb with it’s rough hammering rhythm.

“Fuck me. Fuck me. Rape me. Make it rough.” I whisper as the possessiveness of the entity rises, as captive to my sex as I am to it’s – and it rapes me. It takes me rough, makes me scream in pleasure until it echoes through the darkening forest.

THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE