Fiona’s Dreams Heal?

(edited by Kenji Sato..many thanks!) This is the third in the Fiona series and follows Fiona Betrayed and Fiona’s Sanctuary)

Fiona rose from her warm bed with a strong urge to pee. Her ‘new to her’ dress lay folded on the chair next to her bed. Long-sleeved and reaching to her ankles, it was large enough to easily slip over her head. Fiona had no undergarments… Meg had not supplied any, apparently not thinking it an oversight, as she had none to lend. The dress fit well enough if Fiona belted it around her waist with the woven sash that Meg had supplied.

This morning, she decided to not use the indoor toilet, but flash Bill, as he prepared his breakfast and her tea, by relieving herself in the woods. That would require a nude dash across the open ground from the back of Bill’s workshop to the tree line.

Feeling exceedingly naughty, Fiona opened the door and dashed for the wood with a “Good morning, Bill!” greeting, shouted over her shoulder.

The sudden movement startled Bill out of his early morning grogginess. The sight of the nude, running young woman brought an instant smile to his face. He shouted back, “Well someone is feeling quite a bit more feisty this morning.”

The silence was broken only by the sound of a strong stream of urine puddling on the leaf strewn forest floor, followed by,”I guess I haven’t planned this so well… what is best to wipe with, oak or maple leaves?”

“Never had to worry about that… I just shake it dry,” replied Bill, with a grin on his face.

Fiona returned to the workshop faster than she left it, “Damn, it is fucking cold out here!”

Shortly, she emerged again, this time with the comfy dress supplemented by one of Bill’s old sweaters. “Bill, I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I needed another layer for warmth.

“Fi, I will do all that is necessary to keep you warm… anything you want, that is.”

Per Meg’s instructions, Bill added honey to Fiona’s tea for the first time. Feeling rested and more energetic, Fiona spent a good deal of that sunny fall day outdoors. Walking about a bit exploring Bill’s property; but mostly, sitting on an old Adirondack chair warmed in a blanket near a fire, watching Bill as he constructed the sweat lodge Meg had prescribed.

Meg had given Bill a rough idea of the design, but as she had said herself, she stunk at building things. From his logging work, Bill had some logs that were not good enough for making furniture, but were marginally too good just for firewood. Long and relatively thin, but straight. Bill had held them aside thinking they would make good poles when seasoned for a pole barn.

First though, he needed to prepare the ground. He cleared an area approximately ten feet square of leaves and debris; he thought that he needed to level the ground for the sweat lodge. Finally, he settled upon a dugout fire pit in the center, lined with small river rocks and a raised platform surrounding it. There would be an air space beneath, but he reasoned that would help the air flow and prevent the lodge from overheating. In his internet reading, he came across stories of non-natives succumbing to too hot a sweat lodge.

The walls were simply the pole logs stacked horizontally and notched to interlock at the corners. The gaps were chinked with a mud straw mature mix, similar to that used at Valley Forge. A two foot diameter smoke hole vented the roof and a small crawl through entryway completed the structure. The chinking dried rapidly in the autumn sun, aided by the fire outside and the heated rocks Bill placed in the fire pit.

“I think I’ll have it ready tomorrow, Fi. Meg is coming to inspect it and test it out tomorrow evening.”

“I can’t wait.” Fiona exclaimed. “Both you and Meg have done so much for me.”

The sun was now low on the horizon, and the autumn chill in the air intensified rapidly. Even the roaring fire could not disguise the change in temperature.

“You’d better get inside; it is getting cold, and you have been outside more today than you have in days.”

“Yes Daddy… and you are right, Bill; this day was wonderful being out walking around; but, it also showed how out of shape I am. It’s only sunset, and I feel I could sleep ’til noon tomorrow.”

“As Meg says… listen to your body”

After her night time tea, Fiona fell into a deep sleep.

And dreamt.

This time, she was not simply a spectator… she was a participant; and to her shock… an instigator!

She was standing watching Tom and Maisey fuck, incredibly turned on by straight sex. Her pussy was dripping wet, and while one hand still held the bottle of whiskey, the other was deep in her pants, stimulating her pussy. Maisey and Tom had captured the attention of all those present. The ‘uncle’ and the other two men, also stood open-mouthed staring at the ‘performance’.

Have we all become voyeurs in this internet age… watchers not doers? she thought.

“Damn… I am drunk, I am stoned, and I am horny!” Fiona blinked… had she actually said all that out loud?

The uncle looked at her… startled, and somewhat worried. His and Maisey’s plan had gone so wrong. Far from raping a virgin, he and his buddies were reduced to being voyeurs watching one of their own fuck his co-conspirator… in a rather vigorous fashion, he noted ruefully.

Then this crazed, drugged little woman, marches up to him, stares up at him as she barely reached his chin, and literally spits out her slurred speech covering his face in saliva, “You fu… fu… fuck…ing po… poor ex… excuse… fer, for a rape… RAPIST!

“You… argh… are missing… messing up… me… my fantastic… fantasy!”

The uncle’s face reflects a ‘what the fuck!’

“You got the tools, you old fffarrt!?”

With that Fiona farts loudly and giggles uncontrollably at the perfect timing.

“Come on SHOW ME!” Fiona is screaming then swallows deeply from the bottle of whiskey.

Some of the whiskey comes out of her nose; but, she is on a mission. She unbuckles the uncle’s jeans and removes the belt. Draping the belt behind her neck she kneels and unbuttons and unzips the uncle’s jeans. Unlike Tom, the uncle is deeply tanned all over; indeed, his dick appears to be the color of old leather.

“Holy shit… yep, that there is a DICK! YOU FUCKING DEFINITELY HAVE THE TOOLS!”

For a moment, Fiona is speechless. Her mouth open in a drunken stupor… suddenly focused, she snaps, “Well let’s get to it, this cunt is NOT opening itself!”

With that, she removes her top and sweatpants; she retains the uncle’s belt, which she proceeds to wrap around his neck. As she tightens it, the uncle smiles… somewhat evilly, she thinks—momentarily frightened; the drugs, booze, and lust regain control of Fiona, and she returns the evil look, “You have no idea what demon has been unleashed in me tonight!”

Now it is the uncle’s turn to look frightened. Ancestral fears of witchcraft surge in his mind, how else… can this tiny woman be so ferociously confident?

Soon he is naked on the sleeping bag covered floor of the cabin. His clothes and boots gone, a tight belt around his neck nearly choking him, a wild, naked woman on top of him; alternately, violently rubbing his cock and inexpertly sucking his erect cock—her teeth on his dick, normally a turn off, if it were not in keeping with the violent nature of this weirdly twisted event.

In her frenzy to be penetrated, Fiona is on top of this giant bronzed older man. Although well into his sixties, he is completely tanned and savagely muscular; she presses his erection back along his well-toned belly and rubs her outer lips rapidly along its engorged length.

Her pussy, always wet when even slightly aroused, is now producing a copious stream of female fluids. The entire eight inches of the uncle’s dick looks like polished bronze. Fiona can barely get her hand around the thickness of this THING that she desperately wants IN her. After multiple tries, trying to impale her tight vagina on the fat headed dick, the uncle frees himself from the witch’s spell, as he sees it, and flips Fiona on her back; seemingly putting all his weight and strength into his hips, he pounds his prick deep into Fiona in one brutal thrust.

“Now, you FUCKER… now, you have DONE IT!” Fiona screams, in agony, ecstasy, and triumph…

“Yeah, you crazy bitch. Your spell is broken, now… I HAVE YOU!”

Fiona’s stomach turns as the play is no longer directed by her.

The new act begins as the uncle, having destroyed her virginity, takes over her body…

Fiona is on her back as he straddles her chest and forces his bloody, slimy, polished bronze dick down her throat and ejaculates, or so it seems, directly into her stomach.

Fiona immediately starts retching and escapes from under the uncle by twisting his nut sack, allowing her the space to slither free, escaping through the door; only to fall and disgorge the contents of her stomach. The uncle has retrieved his belt and follows her outside.

Pushing her face into the dirt and vomit, he violates her ass with his unlubed fingers.

He tries forcing his huge flaccid dick into Fiona’s back entrance; but it is too tight, and he is too big and soft.

Tom has since passed out with Maisey in a puddle of ejaculate and secretions. The uncle motions to his two remaining ‘fishing pals’, as they have been jacking off watching both performances, “Bring those dicks here and punish this little bitch’s ass.”

These are the pudgiest and least endowed men of the group; they both have stiff five inch erections, kneeling between Fiona’s spread legs. She struggles to resist, but the uncle sits on her head to keep her compliant, as the two repeatedly rape her ass; filling it with multiple loads of ejaculate.

Fiona screamed her protest about this unwanted violation. “You pricks! You’re supposed to take my virginal cunt; NOT fucking WASTE your jizz in my ass!”

The absurdity of this was not lost on the fishing pals.

“Come on, you STUPID broad, there are NO rules in a gang rape!” With that, the uncle turned her over and sucked on her clit so hard she bled. “See, you dumb cunt, that is what teeth FEEL like on your JUNK!”

All the uproar roused Tom and Maisey. Maisey caught some of the pals’ fury for the disruption of their plans.

“You scheming whore. You almost ruined this because you got so hot for poor Tom, here.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it, Uncle George?”

“Well, I can’t tell your daddy, now can I? But tell you what, you suck us all hard again, so we can properly rape this bitch… and I’ll forget about what you did.”

“Oh… and why should I do that?”

“So we don’t leave you out here to face your girlfriend when we leave.”

So Fiona was just conscious enough to raise her head out of the dirt and vomit to see Maisey give blowjobs and handjobs to the four dicks that had already fucked her mouth, vagina, and anus—Maisey was helping them to do that ALL over again.

At this point, Fiona’s dream lost all clarity. It was reduced to a nightmare of forced penetrations of all her holes—too numb to scream out loud, her brain screamed in pain. In her mind’s eye, Fiona caught an image of Meg placidly assuring her… that she needed to dream to heal… well… this dream… this dream…

The dream had ended. Fiona’s sleep was fitful, punctuated by moans and thrashing. The next morning, she woke earlier than usual; and NOT rested at all.

No playful antics as Bill had just begun to prepare their breakfast.

“Well, early bird…” he greeted, “you heard that you are allowed food today; well a rice porridge, anyhow… Meg reckons that counts.”

Fiona took her plain rice porridge and sweetened tea and sat across the fire from Bill. The morning did not seem as chill as the day before; but still, the warmth of the fire was appreciated.

Bill could tell that this was not the same Fiona from yesterday’s energetic antics, but he gamely continued with news of the sweat lodge, “… being inspected by herself this evening…”

Fiona barely paid attention, deep in her disturbed thoughts. This dream… this dream brought no clarity. Fiona needed to know all that happened to her—to let all the evil out of her body and mind; but the murky nature of the end of the dream conspired against that.

Bill accepted that his Fi was elsewhere… that this Fiona needed something other than his company, or his small talk.

That something was Meg.

Meg tried very hard not to look impressed at Bill’s work on the sweat lodge; but still, the thing, itself, made her very happy. Not a thing of beauty, it had been constructed too swiftly for that; it exuded a sense of purpose… it was, what it was meant to be.

“Now all that is needed is a small fire pit to heat the rocks that will go inside; and a way of moving those rocks…” Meg mused.

“Yes Meg, I know. I can do that this afternoon. You intend on using it this evening?”

“I think so, if Fiona is ready. ”

“Meg, I don’t know if I am ready. Last night’s dream was, well, it was… it ended weird…”

“Fiona, any one dream is not the solution. The fact that you CAN dream… means your mind is trying to solve the riddle of what happened to you.”

“Okay then, this sweat lodge experience is the next step?”

“It can be. Do you feel strong enough?”

“I will be… rice porridge… breakfast of champions? No? Just kidding, Meg. Can we wait and see how I handle this morning. My sleep last night really sucked.”

Fiona spent the morning outside, as Bill and Meg chatted and worked out the finishing touches on the sweat lodge. Actually, the sweat lodge itself was pretty much ready; what was needed, was a way of getting the heated rocks into the sweat lodge. Finally, Bill came up with an old shovel for the task. “Not the most elegant solution, but it will work,” Bill quipped.

“Well, it beats hauling the rocks in on wet elk hide—fresh out of that right now,” laughed Meg.

After sunset, Meg turned to Fiona, “Well Fiona, are you up for the sweat lodge?”

“Yes, Meg. It has been a good day; fresh air, a little exercise, and lots of restorative naps.”

“Okay then, Bill will build the fire to heat the rocks. I brought some from home, and wanted to be sure they were completely dry. Had a bad steam explosion with some river rocks some greenhorn insisted on using… boy, was I stupid that day.”

“We will stay in the workshop until Bill brings the heated rocks into the sweat lodge. I have already put several gourds filled with water inside the sweat lodge. Once he gives us the all clear… we sprint for the lodge.”

“We sprint, Meg?”

“Yes, Fiona. You don’t want that ol’ horndog gawking too long at your fine bloti.”

Fiona gave Meg a quizzical look… then laughed in understanding, “Oh, so you mean we’re naked in the sweat lodge.”

“Of course…”

Meg and Fiona prepared themselves for the sweat lodge in Bill’s workshop. They both stripped; … a quick process, as each wore only a long women’s dress and no underclothes.

Fiona stared rather too long at Meg’s body. As she healed, her appetite for female flesh had returned to a degree; although, Meg was not Fiona’s ‘type’ being older and larger than Fiona’s usual sexual partners… she was still desirable in Fiona’s eyes.

Megs breasts were large with large dark prominent nipples. Her shoulders were wide and strong. Her still dark hair reached well down her back, ending just above her tight narrow buttocks. Below her breasts, her rounded belly and large deep navel were prominent but did not sag. Her sex was covered with a forest of thick coarse pubic hair, a finger of which reached for her navel. Narrow thighs and muscular calves were finished by surprisingly small feet.

Despite all she had been through, Fiona felt her pussy getting wet… for the first time in days.

Meg caught her staring. “I know you favor women as bed partners, Fiona. I am not built that way, but my people do not shame those who are.”

“Sorry for being rude, Meg.”

“Bah… it does not bother me. I am flattered that you find this one attractive, or at least, desirable.”

Fiona blushed because she knew Meg had found her out.

“Hot rocks are in the pit!” Bill yelled.

“Okay, good; now you go jack off in private—the ladies are coming out!”

It was only a few yards from the workshop to the sweat lodge; but still, the larger woman got there in only a few seconds, followed by Fiona who entered the lodge breathing hard… only to see Meg already seated cross legged and breathing normally.

“Jeez, Meg, it is dark in here…”

“We will get moonlight through the vent hole soon,” came the reply.

As Fiona’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noted another light source, the glowing rocks in the pit in the center of the lodge.

Without further preamble, Meg reached for one of the water-filled gourds arrayed near her, and poured a little onto the rock that glowed the brightest. A cloud of steam enveloped the room, briefly hiding Meg from Fiona’s view.

There were also some herbs near the glowing stones; the heat of the stones released oils from the herbs that were soon mixed with the steam, producing an intoxicating scent in the super-heated air.

Fiona’s body was oozing huge droplets of sweat. Her eyes were stinging from the volume of sweat pouring off her head. Across from her, she could see Meg inhaling deeply and chanting in a low voice in a language Fiona did not know.

Fiona began to see not Meg, but Maisey… Maisey who had betrayed her. Maisey who was kissing her as she was being raped by the last two guys to penetrate her, the two who used her the most brutally. Maisey was kissing her while all this was happening to her, as Maisey was being fucked from behind by Tom. Maisey who whispered endearments softly to her. Maisey, who was so turned on by Fiona being repeatedly raped, that she needed to be fucked by Tom so she could cum while Fiona was being violated.

Maisey who told Fiona, while she was being raped, what a piece of fuck meat she was. That Maisey had known from their first encounter in the restroom at the bar that Fiona was the perfect victim—the woman who could satisfy Maisey’s lust for watching a humiliated woman being fucked.

Maisey, who gurgled with mad glee, as Fiona was being fucked painfully in her tiny asshole. Sodomized by careless men, sloppy lovers—who came quickly, only to be re-energized by drugs, alcohol, and their ideal of a beaten and totally submissive young woman.

“Fi, you’re so lucky I found these sick fucks; my uncle and Tom are perverts; but, they actually have tiny peas for brains, and they can reason ea little when their dicks are hard. But, these two ‘pals’ here, once you get their wieners stiff, they can do only one thing—fuck until they cum. And they will fuck anything… any part of you… the couches, rugs, knot holes, sheep, goats… They are shit lovers for normal women; both have been divorced multiple times, and multitudes of other women have restraining orders against them. But kidnapped anonymous bitches, they are their bread and butter… they don’t get to fuck often; but when they do, they are insane.”

Her laugh was evil and high…

“But,” Fi could only croak out raspy single words… “why?” and looked pityingly into Maisey’s eyes.

“What, bitch… you feel sorry for ME!?”

“Why… not… you?”

Another weird evil insane laugh. “Why don’t they do me…? or Tom…? or Uncle George? Because they are cowards and wimps; only helpless, drugged up women will submit to them—and I have two protectors.”

The two wimps were soft and out of shape; they needed to rest between assaults on Fiona.

Fortified with booze, drugs, and candy, they periodically renewed their abuse of her body; in frustration, sometimes they would bite her, just to hear her scream.

It all ended with a whimper… literally. The two fucked out wimps lay in a sweaty, booze-drenched pile in the midst of the fouled sleeping bags.