Beth lived in a small wooden house with her parents and two brothers, and being the only girl in the family afforded the teen her own room. Something uncommon in the village, but Beth’s parents felt her maidenhead needed preserving until they can marry her off to a prominent family in the town. Rowdy brothers have a habit of forcing their wills on young sisters in these parts and Beth’s parents knew a good dowry is dependent on intact virginity. Beth’s mother Hilda made it her mission to ensure Beth remained pure and locked her in her small room every night after dinner.
Beth’s father and brothers made the family living as fishermen, coming from a long line of men who fished the river for food and money.
However, as Beth grows into womanhood, she cannot deny the feeling surging in her loins and belly. The tingly pleasures she feels when late at night she touches her forbidden place, or when she sees how boys and men now stare at her as if they want something naughty from her. One day, as her mama send Beth to buy bread, the baker’s son, a short, portly lad her age (18) dragged to the back of the store via a small alley.
“No, Pieter, stop,” Beth cried as he dragged her into a small alley. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up, Beth, or I’ll hit you and make you cry,” Pieter growled.
Poor Beth struggled to hold onto the bag of bread loaves for her life as if she dropped it her mother would beat her worse than Pieter could. Around the back of the store, hidden from the street where the townsfolk wandered or stopped to chat, Pieter pushes a trembling girl against the wall.
Grabbing her green sack dress with a pinafore by the hem, he lifts it, pushing it onto Beth’s stomach. “Here, hold this and don’t let go,” he shouted.
“What are you doing?” Beth asks grabbing the hem, tears in her eyes.
“Shut up,” he said with a sneer staring at her white cotton drawers.
The boy undoes the tie on the side, and Beth feels her drawers loosen and suddenly fall, the cold air kissing the soft skin of her loins making her gasp. Pieter’s eyes bulge as he stares at Beth’s creamy loins, hairy quim, her creamy skin forming two pussy lips but there’s no flesh protruding from the slit. Reaching a finger to the inviting sight, Pieter runs it along the springy flesh of her pussy lips.
“Ooh, what are you doing,” Beth moans, her eyes clenched shut and face bright red.
“Shut up, I just wanna look at it,” he growls.
“You like looking at it?”
The scowling boy doesn’t answer. Instead, he rubs a finger through her slit making Beth squirm, yet he doesn’t penetrate her. Beth feels a familiar tingle, one she has only felt in her chambers, in her most private moments. This boy touching and looking at her quim, her forbidden place, is exciting Beth and a tinge of guilt spreads through her as her mother’s words scream into the girl’s mind.
“No man should ever see or touch your loins unless you’re married to him,” she tells Beth constantly.
Yet here she is, a boy, barely a man is looking at and touching her special place, and the girl wonders why it scares her mother so much. The light stroking feels pleasant to the girl. Suddenly, Pieter stands and staring at her exposed pussy, he pulls open his fly and gets his cock out.
“You saw one of these before?” he asks hotly.
Beth opens her eyes and looks at the pink dick sticking out from Pieter’s pants. Pieter’s peter, she thought, and giggles.
“What’s so funny?” the boy barks. “Are you laughing at my dick?”
“Touch it,” he shouts thrusting his hips out, making the cock stick out longer. “GO ON.”
Beth’s trembling hand moves slowly toward the protruding cock, and her fingers touch the surprisingly warm and hard flesh.
“You like it?” he asks.
Not sure how to answer, she decides it’s better to be pleasing to the boy in case he might hurt her. “Y-Yes, it’s nice,” Beth said, still holding her dress to her belly and exposing her quim.
Suddenly, a gruff voice shouts, “PIETER.”
It’s the boy’s father standing with hands on hips and glaring at the two teens. Pieter gets his dick back in his pants at a speed that amazed Beth, and the only telltale sign was the larger bulge. Beth, however, freezes to the spot, still holding her dress up with her drawers around her ankles. Herr Beck, Pieter’s father, slaps the boy across the head making him whine.
“Get inside you pig, and help your mother,” Herr Beck growled, and Pieter scurried back down the alley in a hurry. The man now stares at Beth’s naked loins, licking his lips with satisfaction. “I’d expect better from Otto Fischer’s daughter,” he said moving closer.
Still, Beth doesn’t lower her dress or attempt to cover her loins. “I’m sorry, Herr Beck,” she said softly.
The man squats in front of the girl and stares at her quim with the same lustful intent as his son. He also touches her pussy lips and runs his finger along her slit, only this time the older man slide his finger into the entrance of her cunt. Herr Beck smiles knowingly as withdraws a juice-laden fingertip.
“You’re wet,” he said softly. “You like showing your little quim off, eh?”
Beth stands silently, her body trembling. Herr Beck outs the juice-laden finger in his mouth and sucks the pussy slime away. “Mmm, you taste like a virgin,” he said. “If you keep exposing yourself like this you won’t stay one, then your poor mother will be very angry with you.”
“Yes, sir,” she said softly.
He grabs her drawers and pulls them up, tying them. “Drop your dress and go home,” he said in a fatherly tone. “There are men around here who’d pay to see your cute quim and soft body.”
“Pay?” she said as she dropped her dress and straightens her pinafore, “Who, Herr Beck?”
He stands; a bulge now noticeable in his pants. “You don’t want to become a girl like that,” he said shaking his head. “Save your quim for your future husband, that’s what respectable girls do.”
“Go home, and if Pieter or anyone does anything like this again—scream—so someone can help you,” he said sternly. “There are bad men here, be warned, young lady.”
Beth runs from the alley with Herr Beck following behind. Karl Schmidt, the local blacksmith, sees Beth running away and stops to speak with Beck.
“What’s her problem? Did you break her maidenhead?” Karl asks with a sneer.
“That enough of that,” Ernst Beck said shaking his head. “And you leave that girl alone. If I hear she’s been at ‘The Stag’, I’ll come looking for you.”
Karl laughs. “I’m so scared, you gonna throw some of your stale bread at me?”
“I’m not funny, Karl,” Beck said with a frown and low, glowering voice. “The church elders won’t tolerate the sinful things done in that rotten Inn. We’ll burn it down if we hear of another of our young women ravaged there.”
Karl sighs and rolls his eyes. “Nothing happens at The Stag against anyone’s will, Beck. No woman is ravaged or even touched unless she approves first.”
Beck grunts. “You’ve been warned. Bethany Fischer is off limits.”
The baker pushes past the dirty blacksmith and enters his shop/residence. Karl doesn’t take the threat seriously. He noticed Becks erection, so something told him Beth Fischer just might be the kind of young woman they like at The Stag.
The incident with Pieter Beck and his father filled Beth with so many naughty dreams, each one making her cunt tingle and itch, and she rubbed herself often until an intense flash of pleasure exploded in her belly and made her body shake. Her quim had never been a place she took much interest in, other than to pee, but lately, these funny feelings are making the teen distracted. Her mother even notices Beth daydreaming instead of doing her daily chores and is often hitting her across the head to get the teen’s mind back on whatever task she’s doing.
“What’s gotten into you lately?” Hilda asks shaking her head.
“Nothing mama,” Beth would say in a soft, girly voice.
“It better not be some boy?”
“Don’t lie to me girl,” Hilda would scream. “No boy has been touching you, has he?”
Beth would sigh heavily. “No, mama, I promise.”
“If I find out any different I’ll send you to a workhouse,” Hilda would scream.
This threat often repeated to Beth as a way to keep her controlled. Some of the more unfortunate people would sell unwanted daughters to the workhouses if they couldn’t marry them off. They wouldn’t get as much as a dowry, but it was something. The fearsome reputations of the workhouses made all the young women tremble when mentioned. The conditions are terrible, and the workers often die before they reach thirty.
Still, the dreams of men staring at her quim with big hard bulges in their pants plagued the girl. Beth is unsure why such evil thoughts are attacking her will to remain good, yet it feels as if something is dragging into the dark depths of hedonism.
This is an excerpt from “The Devil Did It” — Buy the eBook to read the whole amazing story.