The Soul of a Maiden by Alex Birch 'Phew, thank God. At last we've arrived!' exclaimed Kerry Stevens as she and her companion trudged round yet another bend in the never ending narrow country road and at last glimpsed the spire of the local church and the old village sign which announced their arrival in 'Berthyn' . She paused and rested her haversack on the ground as Mark Ransome squeezed her hand lightly and grinned. 'Not quite ...' he replied '...it's another half a mile to the pub so don't rest yet or you won't want to go on!' Kerry groaned and flashed him a mournful smile. 'You miserable sod...' she groaned '...but I suppose you're right. God you're a hard taskmaster!' and bent to the task of retrieving her haversack. As she reached down then straightened up and adjusted the haversack firmly across her back, Mark felt the flush beginning in his cheeks as Kerry's movement of throwing back her shoulders forced her firm young breasts invitingly through the blue 'National Trust' T shirt and the bend of her shapely bottom to stretch her blue denim shorts close to breaking point. Mark swallowed and looked away hoping she had not caught him staring nor that the sudden bulge in his shorts was too obvious. He thought she had never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment despite the perspiration which streaked down her pretty face creating a warm glow in her English rose cheeks. She rubbed one hand through her curly chestnut hair again forcing her breasts to stretch against the cotton of her shirt. Mark wanted so much to caress those breasts, to kiss away the perspiration on her face, to peel down her ...but his reverie was interrupted by a taunt of 'Come on slowcoach!' , then looking up, he saw his adorable vision now thirty yards ahead of him and striding towards the centre of the villlage. Mark had been overjoyed when Kerry agreed to come on this short working holiday with him for they had known each other only a matter of months, both doing the same local history course as part of their degree at Exeter University. He had always been shy with girls and had never got into the birds and booze lifestyle so beloved by many of his fellow students. He'd noticed Kerry on day 1 of course..who wouldn't ..she was so beautiful that every stud was hanging round her but with his usual lack of confidence he'd just smiled occasionally in passing and, to his delight, she'd always smiled back with a warmth that made him feel ten feet tall. Then one day she was suddenly standing next to him in the refectory queue and talking to him about a history paper he'd written and how good it was. Mark was bowled over and soon they were lunching together, laughing together, doing their course work together and, eventually, going out together to the cinema and for meals. The Uni studs were foaming at the mouth with envy, Mark's status rising overnight as his fellow students demanded to know what it was he'd got to be 'giving her one every night of the week!' and he'd laugh lightly and shrug his shoulders. The trouble was he wasn't giving her one any night of the week. Not for the want of trying either although Mark acknowledged his lack of expertise in the art of seduction, his only consolation being in the fact that the professional Romeos fared worse than he did, cut down to size politely but very definitely because Kerry was a nice girl in the old fashioned sense of the word. She didn't do it with anybody at all, she never had and wouldn't, she said firmly, until she'd got her degree and was in a steady relationship which would hopefully lead to marriage. Mark had to content himself with the thought that she'd chosen him as her boyfriend and he still couldn't even believe that much luck! Some months before he had heard via a local newspaper about the village of 'Berthyn' only 40 miles away on the edge of the moors which had a strange and interesting history. The name was old English and did indeed mean 'Birthing' which would not particularly raise eyebrows except that the nativity rate in the village was about three times the national average and Mark wanted to find out more. There were other strange things too which he was determined to investigate, for his own interest and for a contribution to his thesis. He had planned to go on his own but then thought how wonderful it would be to have Kerry for company. To his delight, she'd accepted with warmth and enthusiasm, never once doubting his motives, for by now she knew him well enough to trust him to book single rooms and not try anything silly for that would have meant the end of their relationship. As he gazed at Kerry now striding purposefully on, Mark tried to forget his frustrations, catching up quickly as they began the walk into the village past a few curious onlookers who stared pointedly as they walked by. Berthyn was so picturesque, like a picture postcard of old England, with Cottam's drapers shop, the Excelsior tea room, Nathaniel Blane's funeral parlour, Ellison's general store, the parish church of St Matthew and St Giles then, finally, the Tudor gables of 'The Lamb and Flag' where they had booked rooms for the week. 'Wow, this place is really quaint ...' Kerry whispered as they walked into the old oak panelled hallway of the pub '...and it's really nice. I'm going to enjoy this break, Mark!' and she squeezed his arm warmly as Mark smiled back at her. They could hear the noise coming from the lounge bar in front of them and were just about to go through when a small door just past the stairs at the end of the hall opened and a plump pleasant faced woman in her mid fifties bustled through into the hall. 'Can I help you, m'dears...?' she said warmly '...you look as if you've walked miles! A good glass of our ale will put you to rights!' Mark grinned. 'Sounds good ...' he said '...now you must be Mrs Foster. We spoke on the phone. You should have two single rooms in the name of Ransome!' Megan Foster smiled again and went back for the register. 'Here we are...' she said on returning ' ...two ...' she looked up from Kerry to Mark and then back again with an expression of bemused doubt '...single rooms?' Kerry nodded and Mark tried hard not to flush with embarrassment. Christ, landladies used to kick you out if unmarried couples tried to share a room now they look at you oddly if you don't! She thinks I'm a complete ‘wus’ , he thought bitterly, definitely 'one of those'! Dispelling his paranoia he managed to confirm the room bookings with some dignity and they were ushered upstairs to find two charming bedrooms next to each other looking out onto the wooded outskirts of the village and with a direct view of Martha's Peak, the only promontory of any reasonable size for some miles around the town. It was this hill, in addition to the village itself, whose mysteries fascinated Mark for he had followed up the initial newspaper report with some research in his local library. That had pointed him to a historian named Arthur Newsome who had written a local guide to Berthyn back in 1933. Newsome had made reference to a ceremony on Martha's Peak which took place once a year and which, he wrote, was shrouded in almost Masonic secrecy. His book reported that only the women of the village were involved and that it had been impossible to find out any details but he had conjectured that the ceremony was probably pagan but harmless. Newsome had found an old lady who told him that the ceremony dated back to Saxon times and she told him an old Saxon name which Newsome vaguely translated as celebrating the purity of a maiden's soul but the historian could glean no more. This was why Mark had booked this very week for this coming Friday, the first in September, was the date of the ceremony and Mark's curiosity was aroused. It would be great stuff for his thesis. When he'd explained all this with boyish intensity to Kerry she had enthused warmly and pledged to help his detective work in every way possible. After a quick freshen up, Kerry and Mark went down to dinner and found that apart from an elderly couple who hardly said a word, they were the only residents in the pub. They had plenty of time to talk to Megan Foster and to meet her landlord husband Jack. Both Kerry and Mark took to the couple immediately, both of them typically bluff and hearty country people with ample girths and generous hearts to match. Mark asked Jack Foster about the background to the village name and the landlord was only too glad to enlighten him. 'Oh aye, it's been called that for hundreds of years !' Jack said cheerfully '.Do you know in the old days, husbands used to bring their barren wives here to stay and take part in the old ceremonies then, when they got home, 90% of 'em were pregnant within a month. Them so called experts never fathomed it out though. One of our country mysteries you might say! Perhaps its the spring water in the beer ...or maybe it was the local milkman!' and he chortled loudly at his own jest. Kerry and Megan were hitting it off too though when Kerry tried to ask some innocuous question about the 'Soul of the Maiden' ceremony, Megan just laughed and passed over it. At one point Kerry became uncomfortably aware that Megan Foster was trying to weigh up the relationship between her and Mark and that it wouldn't be long before the woman's curiosity got the better of her. Her suspicion was confirmed next day after Mark had announced his intention of visiting the local library for an hour and Kerry had opted to have a lie in and a late breakfast. She was alone in the breakfast room when Megan Foster bustled in with the eggs and toast then without being invited parked herself in the spare dining chair opposite. 'It's so nice to have a lovely young pair like yourselves staying here ...' Megan began warmly '...do you know, before you signed in different names an' all, I thought you might be brother and sister. Then I saw how he looks at you ...' she paused and grinned as Kerry blushed crimson '...and then I knew you weren't!' Ignoring the girl's obvious embarrassment, Megan stared hard into her eyes 'An' you like him lots an' all if I'm not mistaken. It seems a shame, you know, single rooms n' all. Bit unusual these days!' Under normal circumstances, Kerry would been riled by such intimate prying but Megan was so warm, friendly and uncomplicated that she found herself explaining that she and Mark were close friends, that one day she might want it to be more but she'd been brought up to believe that sex should be part of a long term relationship to be considered once her education was complete. When she'd finished, Kerry was red faced and very embarrassed but Megan just clutched her hand and smiled. 'I s'pose we're a bit simple out here ...' she replied with a chuckle '...we just lets nature take its course...which is why we're 'Berthyn' I s'pose!' When Mark returned Kerry decided not to tell him about her conversation with Megan, anxious not to stir up his frustrations even more, and they went out to look around the village and into the old parish church hoping that the parish register might throw up some clues about the village and in particular the 'Soul of the Maiden' ceremony but there was little there to help. They spent the afternoon on the river in a punt which Mark rowed as Kerry lay back, hands behind her head enjoying the sun. Mark tried hard not to stare at her lying back in repose like that, her one leg drawn up under the light cotton skirt, an occasional glimpse of her panties as the breeze ruffled her skirt. He could have cried in frustration but just rowed the boat as if he hadn't a care in the world. After a few drinks in the bar later that night, Kerry decided to retire to bed fairly early and after giving Mark a kiss she retired for the night leaving him in the bar with his thoughts . When he finally retired to bed, he lay on his side for what seemed like hours, thinking of how close the girl was in the next room, how good she would feel next to him in bed. He rolled over and over unable to control his thoughts or his firm erection then finally decided to get up and go to the bathroom for a glass of water. It was 1am and he padded across the landing quietly for fear of waking the Fosters whose bedroom he passed en route. As he passed their door his ears picked up sounds which made him stop dead in his tracks, tiptoe to the bedroom door and put his ear to the keyhole. The sounds were louder now, the firm but soft thwaaaack! of a leather belt or slipper on what was clearly bare flesh and the ensuing soft feminine cry a split second later. The pattern was repeated ten or twelve times more then Megan Foster's cries got louder. Mark began to tremble with excitement as he imagined what was going on in there, then he heard Jack Foster's deeper but gentle voice saying 'Not so loud, you noisy bissom, you'll wake the guests' and then the spanking began again as Mark hurried on to the bathroom shaking like a leaf. By the time he got back to his room, Mark was still aroused thinking of what he'd heard and imagined Kerry lying naked across his knees as he brought his hand down on her bare shapely globes. Desperately he rolled over and began counting sheep, finally dropping off to sleep in the early hours. Megan Foster lay on her stomach in bed the next morning as her husband gently rubbed her bottom with cream. 'Oooooh, that's lovely, Jack ...' she whispered '...you certainly laid it on all right. My arse felt like a million bee stings all night!' then she smiled as her husband bent down and softly kissed both cheeks of her glowing bottom. 'I was thinking about those two kids ...' she said '...and how we could help 'em. They both want each other that's obvious but she's got this 'saving it for her wedding' rubbish in her 'ead!' 'Oh ar ...' Jack muttered, grinning as he rubbed some cream into Megan's intimate crease '...matchmaking again, eh!' 'Not at all ...' she replied '...they're obviously made for each other but she needs a little push from mother nature. She's a real virgin, Jack, honest. Told me so herself. What if we break one tradition on Friday to restore another? We ain't 'ad a real virgin as 'maid of honour' in years an' I know she ain't from the village but that Kerry would be a wonderful choice. Help them two along no end an' all! Diane wouldn't mind giving way, er's been 'Maid of Honour' two years out of the last three an 'ers got three children!' Jack shook his head doubtfully. 'Ain't sure about outsiders gettin' involved, Meg ...' he said '...but it's you ladies ceremony an' you'll do as you think fit, same as always. It'd do that pretty little thing a power of good no doubt!' He grinned. 'Can we break another tradition then? If 'ers goin' to be 'Maid of Honour' can I come and watch?' then ducked as his grinning wife rolled over and swung the pillow at his head. When Megan broached the question at breakfast that morning, Kerry and Mark were dumbstruck. 'Why me?' Kerry asked in astonishment and Megan confessed it was after Kerry had admitted to being a genuine virgin and that the 'maiden' should literally be intacto, the faces of both Mark and Kerry colouring up at such intimate admissions being so casually revealed. The two youngsters were both very excited at such a wonderful and unexpected finale to their holiday, the very secret they had come to discover now opening up but both were also very nervous, wondering what Kerry would be letting herself in for as the ceremony was so secret. Megan grinned. 'I can't tell you any details, my love ...' she said warmly '...'cos it is a bit like the Masons in that we need to preserve some secrecy or the power of the ceremony is lost. You 'ave my word though that you'll come to no harm whatsoever. It's just an old country ritual. I done it myself three times when I was a young 'un. I was even a true virgin the first time...but that didn't last! It would be nice to go back to a real 'maid' for once. There ain't any virgins round here over the age of consent. We don't cut your heart and liver out in some satanic ritual ...' she added with a laugh '...so there's nothin' to alarm you. It's just our secret, that's all! Anyway, think about it and let me know later today!' As Megan left the breakfast room, her plump bottom quivering, Mark began to think about what he'd heard during the night, deciding against telling Kerry in case she thought he was getting funny ideas. If that's what the Fosters enjoyed it was their business! They began to discuss Megan's surprise offer and Kerry was quite excited about it. 'I trust her, Mark ...' she said firmly '...and if Megan says I'll come to no harm, I won't! I want to do it. It'll just cap your research wonderfully and I feel so glad I can be a part of helping you to find out about the ceremony!' Mark held her hand warmly then leaned across the table and kissed her cheek. 'Only do it if you're certain...' he said softly '...because I do appreciate you doing this but I do worry about why they're so secretive!' Once Kerry had agreed, Megan consulted the organising committee who were originally somewhat concerned that an outsider was involved but more than mollified because she was a real maiden. When Friday arrived, both Kerry and Mark were in a state of high excitement, Mark wondering what he'd do with himself after Kerry had been taken up Martha's Peak in a minibus along with the fifteen or so ladies who organised the event. Men were strictly forbidden from climbing the hill while the hour long ceremony which commenced on the stroke of noon was taking place and in fact two local worthies actually patrolled the lower slopes to prevent unwanted intruders. Mark and Kerry both slept in late and had a light breakfast, both too nervous to eat more. They loitered around in the lounge bar until Megan came in at 11am to collect Kerry en route to the village hall to meet the committee and to get her 'properly kitted out'. Ignoring the presence of a witness, Mark suddenly gave way to his impulses and seized his pretty girlfriend round the waist, pulled her to him and kissed her firmly on the lips. 'Look after her, Megan ...' he said quietly '...she means so ...' then his voice trailed off in embarrassment as Kerry looked into his eyes and hugged him to her before departing with the ever smiling Megan towards her date with ...what? Mark decided to spend the time in the local library for it would occupy his mind and stop him fretting. There would be plenty of research material there and added to Kerry's experiences there would be a wealth of data for his local history thesis by the time they returned. Kerry's first shock came at the village hall after Megan had introduced her to the committee, all of them warm, friendly country women, the wives of the local shopkeepers, many of whom Kerry had spoken to in the village. She felt happy and relaxed until she was taken to the changing room where Megan presented her with a flowing ankle length white gown which tied with a bow at each shoulder, Kerry staring at it in nervous embarrassment. It was virtually diaphanous! As she began to peel off her dress and slip, Kerry murmured 'I wish my underwear was a bit more substantial. That thing's see through!' then gasped in horror as Megan laughed out loud. 'Don't worry about your undies, my love ...' she grinned '...they come off an' all. We're celebrating mother nature today so the gown is worn next the skin!' Kerry's shock was partly mollified by the sight of fifteen ladies of various ages and shapes, Megan included, stripping naked in front of her eyes before donning similar gowns to her own though theirs were in purple. As the red faced Kerry quickly stripped off her bra and panties, Megan stole a quick look at the girl's naked body and grinned. That lad of 'ers would have a treat tonight! The mini bus had curtained windows, to Kerry's relief, and soon they were under way, the bus driven by Megan clattering down the village street and soon on the open road. Kerry felt the pull of the hill as the bus began its climb up the dirt road which led up Martha's Peak and a nervous tremor began in her stomach. Soon the bus stopped and they began the walk, some 100 yards up to the peak. The weather was warm but Kerry felt the soft breeze on her virtually naked body beginning to arouse her sensitive nipples, a not unpleasant sensation. At the top of the hill, the terrain flattened into a small grassy plateau in the middle of which stood a small pole. It could have been a maypole except it had an extending wooden arm from which hung two hempen cords. Before Kerry had time to think, someone grabbed her hand and they all stood round the pole in a circle as Megan began an incantation, all the women dancing around the pole for some minutes. Suddenly at Megan's command, the dancing ceased and Megan poured out a glass of wine from a decanter, presenting it to the now very nervous and perspiring Kerry. Taking a deep breath, Kerry drank it all as instructed and the dancing began anew. As the dancing quickened so the wine, or whatever was in it, seemed to rush to Kerry's head and she felt distant, light headed and tingling all over. In fact she began to feel very sexually aroused. She hardly noticed when Megan stopped the dancing and led her gently towards the pole. She submitted quietly, her mind somewhere distant from her body as her arms were raised and her wrists secured to the cords then the women began to dance around the pole once more, faster and faster as Megan gently untied the bows at Kerry's shoulders allowing the gown to fall to her ankles... Mark sat in the library, his nerves jangling and his mind unable to concentrate on research, desperately anxious about Kerry. His keen mind tried to relate events, the high birth rate, Jack Foster's comment about barren wives and 'the ceremonies of old' . He thought about the spanking he'd overheard in the Foster's bedroom and wondered if that was a regular feature of married life in these parts. He remembered his father, who had been a visiting professor of history in Dresden for a time, telling him about ceremonies in Lower Saxony where childless women were whipped with their full consent. It apparently stirred up dozy hormones or something and often the girl became very sexually potent soon after. He thought of the German book in his father's study which he would furtively browse and which showed an illustration of such an event, a naked girl tied to a post and whipped. The picture had a German name and he thought hard , his blood suddenly ice cold! Christ, colloquial German was coined from the same saxon source as English! 'Soul of the Maiden' indeed! That fucking idiot Newsome! With indecent haste, Mark shot out of his seat prompting a critical cough from the librarian, and went to the languages section. He found a heavy German dictionary and began thumbing. Soul, sole..no,no....sohle from the old Saxon. Trembling now, he confirmed the definition and his mind became clear. Thats what the old lady had told Newsome ...the same name as on his father's picture ...'Versohlen die Madchen' ...'Whipping the maiden'! He ran out of the library despite a warning shout and headed for the pub, his fear and anger intense ... ...the women were chanting now around Kerry's naked body and Megan had handed out small flails to each of them with which they began to whip Kerry's bare flesh. The leather was soft and light and as the ring of women danced the leather fell on her breasts, on her belly, the front of her thighs, on her back, her bottom and the back of her legs. Kerry began to sigh softly as her skin began to prickle and sting for she began to experience the most incredible sensations. Her breasts felt twice their normal size, so hot and sensitive,her glowing pink nipples out like organ stops, her bottom pink and tender as the slender leather strips found their mark. Kerry was in a state close to ecstasy as the burning warmth aroused her whole vibrant body then, dimly, she heard Megan's soft, warm voice instructing her. 'Open those pretty legs, my love, we don't want to miss anywhere now...especially that!' and she complied immediately feeling the soft leather sting the lips of her vulva as she began to writhe and moan... ....'I know what they're doing to her!' Mark yelled at Jack Foster as he stood shaking with anger in the bar of the pub 'You've got to stop them! It's wicked and cruel. Kerry should have been told!' but the landlord put a gentle hand on his arm. 'I don't like scenes in my pub ...' he said quietly '...now lets go up to your room and discuss this!' Despite Mark's protests he was ushered gently upstairs to his room and gasped as he found all Kerry's clothes on his bed, the two twin beds in his room having been pushed together to make a double. 'Sorry, I meant to 'ang em up before you both came back but you caught me by surprise. We've let 'er room out you see!' Jack explained. Mark was speechless with rage 'You can't ..you've no right..what is happening here?' he spluttered but the friendly landlord again patted his shoulder. 'Megan told you she'd come to no 'arm an' she won't ...' Jack said earnestly '...'an I spose you 'ave worked out what's 'appenin up there 'cos you're a bright lad. Believe me, she's enjoying every minute of it and she'll be a changed girl when 'er comes back. You won't need single rooms no more, you mark my words. It ain't ever failed! Anyway its too late to stop 'em they'll be finished now and back here soon!' At that moment, Mark heard the sound of Megan's voice and Kerry's quiet tremulous reply as footsteps climbed the stairs. Jack Foster discreetly exited as Megan and Kerry walked into the bedroom, Kerry dressed now just in the diaphanous white ceremonial gown. Mark sat on the bed, his mouth open, speechless as he stared at the beautiful girl whose face was bright and alive with excitement and desire. Jack had been right, she had come to no harm and now she was here in their room just ready for him! Before he could move, Megan grinned at him and reached for the two bows on Kerry's shoulders, untying them swiftly. 'Can't give a boy a present without unwrapping it first' she grinned as the gown slithered down and Kerry stood proudly in front of him as naked as the day she was born. Her skin from her breasts to her knees was covered in a deep pink sheen as if she'd sunbathed naked too long. Mark stared at Kerry's nipples, swollen with desire, as Megan blew him a kiss and discreetly left the room. The young girl, her face shining, took his hand and led him gently to the bed where she lay on her back, her legs wide apart as Mark frantically tore off his clothes. She pulled him into her and locked her legs around his buttocks as if she were a practised performer and he thrust deeply into her again and again until he could contain himself no longer, his seed coming in torrents inside her. Too late he realised that neither of them had any protection but Kerry kissed his lips passionately and murmured 'Megan's opened my eyes, my love. Just let mother nature take its course!'