Ravished by a Mob?

The night was still. The breeze barely rustled the leaves on the trees. The sound of the stream trickling between the rocks 500 metres away was clearly audible. The sky was clear and the moon shone its silvery light far across the meadows and hills.

Suddenly I heard a cry, “Help!” somewhere in the distance.

A plaintive cry. A young maiden.

It came from the woods.

I raised myself from my perch atop the garden wall. It was late, the wench might be in trouble so grasping my knife and jerkin I set forth in the direction of the sound.

“Help!” she wailed again, I hurried along as fast as I dared in the moonlight not knowing which pool of shadow was a pot hole to break the leg of the unwary and which held no danger.

Suddenly I was upon her. An angel in a white gown with a dark coat covering it.

“Oh,” she said, “Is there only you?”

“I heard your cry,” I explained, “Are you in distress?”

“Er, My carriage was attacked by vagabonds and I was lucky to escape with my honour!” she declared.

“Are they chasing you?” I asked, “Or why are you shouting? why is your hair still perfect and why have you not broken sweat.”

“Oh for pities sake questions, questions, questions.” she snapped.

Something is very wrong! I decided.

“Help!” she shouted.

“Stop shouting, I am here,” I replied.

“And entirely useless I want men, several men,” she announced.

“Why?” I asked, “There is no danger, I am here, you can stay with me until tomorrow.”

“Oh you are such an idiot!” she protested, “Help!”

“Find you own way then,” I snapped and I turned and left her.

“Come back, help!” she shouted. I ignored her and carried on walking.

“Come back this instant!” she shouted.

“Save your breath,” I warned, “You will attract the wolves.”

She ran after me, “What is wrong with you?” she demanded.

“Me, it is you that has lost your senses,” I replied, “I shall escort you to the village and keep you safe.”

“I don’t want safe, I want men!” she squealed “And what do I get, the village idiot!”

“Then the Inn should suit you very well,” I confirmed, “The Landlord keeps whores upstairs so perhaps he will let you take a turn.”

“Yes, excellent, do you think they will attack me, tear my clothes off and ravish me?” she asked eagerly.

“Probably not, they will all be drunk or asleep,” I admitted.

“Then you will have to do it,” she insisted., “You will have to ravish me.”

“I shall do no such thing,” I insisted.

“No matter no one will believe you,” she simpered and with a rending sound she tore her gown, “Help!” she screamed.

“Oh really,” I protested, “I just don’t need this.”

“So ravish me, you may as well have some pleasure before I report you to the constable.” she snapped.

“Why do you wish to be ravished?” I asked.

“Er well I had a dalliance and I believe I may be with child,” she admitted, “So if I was attacked and ravished…”

“And you would have me sent to the gallows to facilitate this lie?” I demanded.

“Well I had not really considered every implicationt,” she said, “But perhaps you could escape and become an outlaw?”

“Its hardly fair is it?” I asked, “What have I ever done to harm you.”

“You insulted me greatly by refusing to ravish me,” she insisted.

“I am saving my honour for my true love,” I said pompously.

“Lucky girl, who is she?” she asked.

“I don’t have a girl yet,” I admitted.

“Then, oh, why not ravish me?” she demanded.

“I don’t fancy you,” I lied.

She managed to reveal her left breast, “Are you sure?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” I insisted, “Lets get you to the pub, I am sure someone will oblige.”

She put her breast away and we went to the Flyne Fox.

“You can’t bring no tart in yer,” the Landlord challenged, “You be ent licensed.”

“I am no tart!” the wench declared.

“Well you scrubbed up well if thee’s a bloke,” Old Tom chuckled, “Whats yours, a pint of Gin or a good fucking up thee’s ass.”

“Fuck up the ass please,” she said.

Poor old Tom fell off his stool.