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The Offering

A gentle mist lay in the valley as the sun rose between the hills that looked down over the village. As it crept steadily higher on that September morning, its rays struck the Big Stone that stood upright at the woodland edge of the Top Field, making it seem to glow as it absorbed the new day’s light.

Down in the village, the same first light awakened Alice as she lay dreaming. Usually, she slept until the rays of the sun were high enough to strike the wall opposite her bed, but she had slept fitfully that night, and now lay listening to the sound of her brother breathing, and the first twittering of the birds in the tree outside the window.

She had been looking forward to this day for much of her life, with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Her birthday, September the 15th, was barely a week before the Feast, which was always held on the second of the two dates in the year when night and day were the same length: once in March, when the village was emerging from winter, and again now, at the time of harvest and preparation for the cold months to come.

As soon as she was old enough to enjoy the festivities, her mother had told her that one day she would be the village’s Harvest Queen. It was an honour bestowed on the girl whose sixteenth birthday fell closest before the day of the Feast, so it had been easy to work out that one day it would be her. Every year since then she had watched and enjoyed the rituals of the day, knowing that in a decreasing number of years it would be her turn to take that special role.

And now the day had come. She felt her body tingling with excitement, and hitched up her rough gown to place her hand between her legs, burrowing through the dark mass of rough hairs, using her fingers to touch and dip into the wet little entrance to her cunny. Her maidenhead was still intact, but that didn’t stop her playing with the little folds of flesh, stimulating the wetness that dribbled out onto the rough straw mattress on which she slept.

She watched as the room slowly became lighter as the sun rose on that special day. Her older brother began to stir in his bed, and she saw him push off the blanket and sit up, letting out a loud fart as he did so. His tunic was bunched around his waist and she could see the curve of his half-erect prick between his legs as he yawned and idly scratched his balls. Ignoring her as usual, he went out and she heard him muttering to his parents in the other room.

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