This story was completed as a present for me. Posted with approval.
Part 1: Scarecrows
I had to face it. I got lost.
I wanted to blame it on Sven. Sven Karlsson, the handsome, charming Swedish tourist I met while travelling around my home country of Lithuania. It was he who told me of the tiny township of Kaunpeda, where they didn’t even have a church, but instead there was an ancient altar of Žemyna, the goddess of sacred soil. I love such places, so richly tied to our history so I was happy to go there with him. Of course I knew the dangers of it, so I took all the necessary precautions – I took pictures of him and his ID and sent them to my family with information to go with it to the police if I disappear.
Some guys would take offense or call me paranoid. He just smiled. And then, once in Kaunpeda I got some food poisoning he left to sight-see and didn’t return. The motel owner told me he got an urgent text from home and he had to leave. So I wanted to blame it on Sven, but truth is I went out, looking for the altar on my own. It was my decision. But what could go wrong? I even checked with the old, time worn police chief Dovydas and he told me it is very safe here and in any of the recorded times there was even no mention of any animal attacks.
I couldn’t have predicted what I’d encounter. Kaunpeda was a tiny village, on the edge of an old forest and surrounded by beautiful, golden fields of wheat. Apparently they had plenty of problem with birds here as dozens of scarecrows littered the fields. Even those were so artistic, unlike in any other place I saw. They were sculpted entirely from wood and dressed in torn clothes from various periods – the amount of details in dresses going back to medieval times was staggering, even if some of the older ones had almost turned to dust. And the faces… they had human faces carved in a way that was in a uncanny valley between realistic and primitive or symbolic. And they looked so… so evil that I didn’t wonder why birds were afraid of those. I’m sure I was. Still, they were so beautifully done that I already was glad that I came here.
I still couldn’t find the altar though. The locals seemed all to know about it, but everyone was apparently sure it was in a different direction. I didn’t mind though, sightseeing, walking, breathing in the fresh, clean air. I even got into the forest, admiring trees that must have been here when our country was young.
This is when I heard the sounds. Grunting, gargling, choking, muffled screams. Was someone in trouble? Quickly I rushed forward… and froze. Almost hidden by the trees, a girl was getting raped. Gang raped.
It wasn’t the horrible scene though – a beautiful, young girl on all fours, being fucked from behind by one man and in her mouth by the other – that made me freeze.
The girl had green skin and even more green hair. And she wasn’t raped by people. These were the scarecrows.
Yes. The scarecrows. Even from the angle I was looking at them, even with them obscured by the branches and leaves, I was just certain.
This is what made me stand still and watch instead of screaming, running to help her or running away.
As I watched, the girl suffered. Despite all the ridiculousness of the situation, one thing was clear to me from the beginning. It wasn’t consensual sex. It was a vicious rape. She was being fucked hard with the… the scarecrows moving like sex-starved maniacs.
“Ggglllg… gllggg…” pitiful, gargled sounds escaped her mouth as she tried to scream around the thing gagging her.
I couldn’t help but wonder… what they were fucking her with. These were scarecrows! Sculptures! For a moment I was in a weirdly dissociated state – I accepted that the statues were raping a green-skinned woman but I found it ridiculous because I didn’t know if they had cocks.
Then I realized something.
I accepted that the scarecrows were the rapists because of the evil look they had.
I don’t know if it can be said about two… pieces of wood… but the scarecrows shivered and then made a weird sound, like wood cracking under heat before going still and pulling away from it.
The girl whispered something a throat so sore that it barely was able to make sounds. Then she collapsed onto the ground… or tried to. Somehow… in a motionless instant the two scarecrows changed positions. The one who was now behind her grabbed her hips and lifted her ass.
She whimpered something. The scarecrow pushed with his/its hips.
I was wrong about her throat being unable to make any sounds. The shriek she mae was hoarse… but clear and loud and so infused with agony and pain that I screamed as well.
That made the other scarecrow look at me. Look at me with it’s primitively carved human-like face, vicious eyes and mouth open in a sneer.
I turned to run but I tripped over a branch I swear wasn’t there a second before. In an instand, without any noticeable move, the scarecrow was next to me. As I got up, it hit my face. It felt as if I was clocked with a baseball bat. There was a crack. Something may have broken. All went black for a moment.
What made me come to was tagging at my waste. Dried leaves were pinching my back and I realized I was topless… and in a moment my panties were also gone torn out by the thing. My body was covered in shallow lacerations that felt as it they were on fire… and as the sharp, stiff fingers of the scarecrow pulled the pantied off my, they left similar injuried on my thigh.
“Nnnn…” I whimpered, still confused… but my sound was drowned in the scream of the girl.
Then I looked up and saw a thick, long hard branch spurting from the scarecrow’s crotch… where a human male would have his cock. I received the answer to the question I was wondering about in before and it made me shiver in terror. I couldn’t get THIS in me!
But this was exactly what happened. Without effort, pushing my hands aside with ease, slapping me whenever I struggled to much with blows that almost made me lose consciousness again, the scarecrow pinned me down.
I felt the hard, uneven bark of it’s “cock” touching the entrance to my pussy.
“Please…” I whispered, even now feeling ridiculous… and hoping for it to be a dream. Maybe I was still suffering food poisoning and this is what brought this?
Then it pushed and all thoughts disappeard from my mind, expunged by a terrible, unbelievable agony worse that anything I have ever experienced.
I was dry, unwilling, unprepared… and it didn’t care pushing hard. It wasn’t like a human cock that has trouble entering a lover who is not wet enough. It was rammed brutally, like a dildo. It was big, long and thick and hard and I felt something tear inside me. I screamed again as it pulled away and pushed back in.
I haven’t stopped screaming for a long time.
It fucked me fast. It fucked me slow. It fucked me with long or short thrusts. It fucked me in a way that would hurt me the most and it KNEW how to make me hurt. And finally, after an eternity, I felt something hot being spurted in my ruined pussy and I didn’t even wonder how could this thing come.
Then the other was over me, on me, in me and I kept screaming.
The first one then crouched over my face and silenced me with a push that hurt my mouth and my through as it made me deepthroat it’s wooden cock and taste my blood of it.
After they took my pussy again I stopped screaming but – like the green-skinned girl – I regained this ability when they took my ass. My virgin ass. I think that I blacked out more than once during this and that was a mercy… but I always returned back to reality much too soon.
Finally I must have died and went to Purgatory. It wasn’t Heaven because I was still in so much pain. It wasn’t Hell because the scarecrows weren’t there.
The faces there, human faces, told words that didn’t make sense. The face that belonged to the policeman, Dovydas, spoke of “some gang” and “being sexually assaulted”. When I spoke of scarecrows or inquired about the girl they said about “trauma-induced hallucinations”. They spoke of trying to reach my family.
In the end I didn’t care. I didn’t care if I was raped my “some gang” or magical sculptures. I didn’t care if I dreamt the scarecrows and the girl, if it was the effect of the trauma or I was just going insane. I only wanted the pain to stop.
Finally, when I could move, Dovydas told me that my family couldn’t get her through the poor dirt roads leading to Kaunpeda so they will pick me up from the nearest nearby town. He offerred to take my by his
I didn’t care, just nodded numbly.
I started caring when he stopped the car in the middle of the field, took out a gun and aimed at it. I started crying when he told me to strip. I almost told him that he can kill me but I won’t suffer from a rape again. In the end… my will to live was stronger and I obediently undressed.
To my surprise, he didn’t rape me. Instead he left the care, told me to get out as well and to walk. I asked and pleaded and cried but he didn’t reply, just forcing me to walk under the threat of the gun.
It felt as if I walked for hours… but then we found the altar.
It was an old stone slab, full of some carvings almost destroyed by time. Scarecrows… so many scarecrows were around it.
As I saw them I forgot all about the gun. I turned around and started to run. I run two steps before my body was overwhelmed by agony. I fell to the ground, twitching wildly as my muscles spamed and clenched without my control.
Dovydas put his tazer away, grabbed my by the arm and dragged my squirming body towards the altar. There was a single chain coming from it, ending with a collar which he closed on my neck.
“Please… don’t” I pleaded.
“It has to be done” he said in calm voice “Did you know that during World War II Nazis stationed just 12km from the village? They haven’t entered it once. Have you heard about the rape parties the Red Army made in their march West? Not a single woman was hurt in Kaunpeda. In the Deluge the armies of Charles and Alexis marched close by and not one house was burnt or looted. And don’t have me started on the Teutons…”
“Please…” I whispered, barely hearing what he was saying as I heard cracking sounds from the scarecrows.
“You know… you have to give it to those Christians… their God had one thing right. A man’s blood is half of what’s needed” he said and he pointed towards one of the scarecrows.
The wooden sculpture attached to the “frame” indeed looked a bit like a man nailed to a cross, only in this case the legs and hands seemed to have dendrified, growing into the wood and becoming when. Then I lifted my eyes.
I opened my mouth to scream but I couldn’t make a sound.
That scarecrow like all the others had a human face. But unlike all the others it was a HUMAN FACE. All flesh, no wood.
It was Sven’s young, handsome, suffering face.
“No” I whispered but soon I had to worry about myself as other scarecrows grabbed me and pushed onto the altar.
“Please!” I pleaded with Dovydas “You can have me! I’ll do everything for you! I’ll fuck you! I’ll be good! I’ll be your sex slave! Just… don’t leave me here!”
“Sorry, sweetie” he said “Being the high priest Žemyna has it’s responsibilities. A man’s blood is one part. The other is woman’s tears.”
Then he left and I fought and I suffered and I screamed and I cried, giving plenty of tears to the sacred soil.
And then… then when they were all done, the one that was Patrick took me. When he first plunged into me, he said “sorry” but when he finished his face was wooden and evil.
Part 2: Priesthood
“Yes… just like that” Dovydas said as the dryad crouched over him, lowering her body, her shapely ass taking his cock.
She whimpered something, amber tears of sap flowing down her cheeks.
“I must say… I was surprised you tried running away” he said “Here I thought you were all broken. When was the last time? XVIIth century? XVIIIth?”
He grabbed one of her black iron rings piercing her dark-green nipples, contrasting with her light, juicy green skin. He twisted it, ripping another beautiful, melodic scream out of her mouth.
“Well, you were waiting for me to get careless and you were right” he said “Not a lot good it did, didn’t it?
She didn’t answer, moving up… then lowering her ass down again, taking his girth up her sore ass.
She was fucking him hard, just as he liked, hoping that if she pleases him well enough, he will remove the BLACK IRON nipple and clit piercings, that he will remove the BLACK IRON studded dildo from her cunt. They hurt so bad… burning at her sensitive body… for hours making her suffer as she still had to focus on pleasuring him.
Fortunately for her, she had plenty of experience. Centuries even. So when he came up her ass, she obediently got off him and began sucking on his dick.
Being the high priest of Žemyna had it’s responsibilities but it also had its perks.
Part 3: Ana
“Yes, Ana,” Dovydas said to the pretty blonde in front of him. “Your sister was indeed here with this Sven guy. They left the town together. I don’t know where”
The blonde sighed.
“Fuck,” she said. “That’s so unlike her. She said she’ll be careful. Oh well. Thank you. I’ll keep searching.”
“You know what?” Dovydas offered. “I’ll make calls to some friends I have in the nearby police stations. Maybe they know something. Why don’t you stay in our motel for the time being? It’s too dark to be travelling these roads at this hour.”
Ana hesitated for a moment. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.”
“No problem,” Dovydas, “I’m sure your sister is ok.”
Once Ana left, he called the motel to give her food dosed with a hefty amount of sleeping drug.
Damn, he was lucky. Žemyna didn’t care about the looks of her sacrifices, only their age. He cared about the looks very much and centuries of living only made his requirements bigger, which is why he mostly spent time fucking one of the dryads. But this one here? She would do. And since Žemyna didn’t require a sacrifice for another 10 years, Ana was all his. Sure, he would share her with the motel owner. In the end though, she would be his – at least until she grows old or he gets bored with her.
Being the high priest of Žemyna had its perks.
10 years later
The breeze of air on my skin was what awoke me. The ground was soft and wet and I could lie there for ever.
To say I was sore would be an understatement. My body was on fire, the pain mostly focused… around my pussy and ass. As I thought about I saw images of faces made of wood, of thick wooden phalusses and I immediately stopped thinking about it.
I felt the wind again and I shivered but not because of the cold… no… in the wind I heard screams of pain, of female pain. Screams of a woman that was being hurt in a most intimate way… a way that I knew all too well. And I knew it wasn’t my imagination.
I got up, falling a couple of times, my legs wobbly and barely holding my weight. I felt… different. I didn’t know how or how should I be feeling but I knew something was different. Was the green of leaves so vibrant before? Were the smells in the air so keen and strong?
I couldn’t remember but something was different. I was different. I…
I didn’t remember my name. And each time I thought about my past… I only felt hard stone beneath my back and something hard being pushed INTO me… into my…
Overcome by panic I managed to get up. I knew something was coming. I didn’t know how I knew but somehow… somehow the forest whispered of that to me. I turned… and froze. I was too late.
I stood in front of a cruel face made of wood… but living wood with a spark, a spark of the Divine, a spark that I felt in the forest all around me. And despite feeling some… kinship to this energy… I knew the thing in front of me, a thing of wood and of the Divine meant me harm.
It was fast. It hit me hard, knocking me down and it was immediately on me. I saw the thick wooden thing extending from its groin. Without efforts it’s branchlike fingers grabbed by weak, green wrists and pinned them down, it’s body pulling my legs up and spreading my thighs.
I tried to plead with it, knowing, KNOWING exactly HOW it will hurt… but I couldn’t find words.
And when it pushed I screamed with a scream that travelled through the wind. When it was finally done with it stood aside… and I saw two feet in shoes next to my head. I looked up and saw a… a… human.
He looked at me with a smirk.
“Finally got a new one” he said and I understood everything “We’re bringing you in. But first…”
He pulled out his cock. I didn’t fight him when he forced my legs apart… the wood thing stood over us as he pushed his cock up my pussy. It was big and thick and I was all sore… but hard as it was it was still flesh and skin not wood and I took it almost as a relief… even as he began pushing into me, fucking me hard, each move causing waves of pain shoot from my sore pussy… even when he began squeezing and biting my sensitive nipples.
“Fuck yes…” he moaned as I began crying “I love you dryads… your bodies repairing damage immediately… your holes always getting tight again, no matter what is stuffed there…”
Finally I felt his hot seed shoot into me and he was done, his cock going softer. That was only the beginning of a new form of agony as he put a collar on my neck a collar of black iron, a collar that burned, that made me writhe on the ground in a way that aroused them and they took me again with the wood and divine thing taking my ass and him silencing my screams with his cock…
When they were done and the wood and divine thing left and the man said that if I go with him and be obedient he will remove the collar I didn’t hesitate or try to run. I went with him, to his metal vehicle and then to the town.
I was brought to one of the houses and there there was an old man, man so filled with the divine that I knew he was here for ages. His age did not diminish his virility as I saw him abuse a human girl.
She was pretty but she must have been extremely beautiful once. Now however numerous scars, lacerations, whip- and burn-marks covered her body. Red welts focused around her full breasts, though it seemed the person whipping her didn’t neglect her legs nor ass. Small signs of being burnts with something were mostly on her thighs, leading slowly between them. Her nipples and clit were pierced by iron rings, rings that would burn my body and while they weren’t so vicious to her, they still must have caused her a lot of pain… especially as one of the nipples and her clit were chained to another ring attached to the floor. The old man was fucking her hard from behind, in her ass, his hand twisting the second nipple-ring.
Despite each move – his or hers – caused her to scream in pain she still pumped her pussy with three fingers begging him to fill her ass with his holy seed.
For a moment she opened her eyes and our gazes met.
It seemed to me… as if I knew her… once… she must have had a similar sensation as for a second she went still and silent and then she shouted a name… a name that I should have known… but I couldn’t place…
And he twisted the nipple ring again and pushed deeper into her ass and she wailed in agony again.
When he was done he made us play cruel games with each other. He made me kneel and lick her ass clean of his cum. Then he made me lick his cock clean… from the filth from her body. I resisted but he brought a cat-of-nine-tails with iron balls attached to the straps. After the fifth lash on my ass I wanted to lick his cock, to clean it but I just couldn’t find the words and he kept hitting…
After I became his cockcleaner and he came up my mouth, she had the girl use the cat-of-nine-tails on me. She refused which seemed to have both surprised and amused him. What followed was me watching as he put a cigarette after cigarette on her pussy lips while her ass was filled with a thick iron dildo that he slowly heated. Then he told me to whip her tits.
I refused as well so he lost his patience and pieced my nipples with the iron rings. Then he made it clear – I cooperate and he removed them. I don’t – I get the iron dildo up my ass.
I whipped her breasts, I whipped her stomach, I whipped her burnt pussy as she kept pleading with me and calling that name.
After that she whipped me between my legs and I wished I would die, I wished I COULD die.
In the end he fucked as as we were lying on top of each other, our breasts pressed against each other as he used his cock and the iron dildo at our holes, switching from me to her and from ass to pussy. As I screamed and saw her face, contorted in absolute agony, I wondered whether I really want to remember how I knew her.