The Pool
by felicia Mansur © 2008

"Father, we've waited long enough. Something's got to be done about her."

Father Jules looked up from tending his small vegetable patch to see two of the more devoted members of his flock. The men were farmers, poor and hardworking. Thin to the point of emaciation, but then, after three years of drought, these two were lucky. At least they were alive.

"We can't live under this curse any longer. The crops fail. The livestock's almost gone. The women are miscarrying and most of us are sick. You've got a responsibility here. Ever since old Everett died last winter, you're the closest thing we got to a headman."

"'S right Father; didn't you preach just last Sabbath about cutting out the sickness? God has turned from us because we let the whore live. She's gotta burn."

Father Jules shook his head and gritted his teeth. "God tests us, Jonas. She's just a woman. Yes, she's a whore, but she's not the cause of the drought. Don't get caught up in stupid superstition. We all pray for rain. Have faith, my son."

Darren looked up to the clear harsh sky and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Haven't you noticed it's us believers who get sick? Them blasted sinners in the hills don't die. The Devil laughs at us, at you Father! And God's punishing us for turning a blind eye to her sin."

"All the rain falls from the same sky, Darren. They don't have any more rain in the hills than we get here. You exaggerate. There are plenty of believers who have not sickened; me for one. And those who come to the hospice often get better. Yes these are hard times, but think of all we have. We have crops, and flocks, and we have the well! At least we don't have to walk all the way to the spring anymore!"

"You can't seriously call this pathetic scrub of plants crops." Jonas kicked a bare foot at the wilted tops of some deep root plants. "The flocks are all but gone, Father. If this isn't God's punishment I don't know what would be!"

"Pray you don't find out. Now go home, both of you! And let me hear no more of killing insignificant women!"

Father Jules and Jonas stared hard at each other until finally Jonas turned away. "You don't seem to understand, Father. We're not asking permission. We're just letting you know. If you won't do something about her, then we will. Come on Darren, we're not getting anywhere here."

The men turned and stalked away. Jules saw the weariness and desperation in the set of their shoulders. They were proud men. Jules knew how hard it was for them to watch their children sicken and die.  Well they were right about one thing. He did have to do something about her and soon.

Jules brushed the dirt from his robe and set off to the north.

The road out of the village had not been well tended for several years. Their village was not visited often, and as they barely had enough to feed themselves, there was no point in taking anything to the market in the city. The sun was hot and although the wind was light, it blew dust from the fields into his nose and eyes. After an hour's walk, Jules left the main road and climbed the path into the hills. Once under the trees, it was instantly cooler, but the effects of the drought were still obvious. Jules noticed the path he followed was well trodden. Obviously there were many in the village who walked this path and often.

By the time he reached the little cluster of huts, Jules was sweating heavily and very thirsty. He hesitated by a low wall surrounding a small courtyard. Three large yellow dogs bounded up in greeting, barking loudly and wagging their tails. Jules warily offered his fist for a sniff and then scratched the head of one of them.

"She likes you."

Jules looked up. The voice belonged to a young woman approaching the huts from the other side of the clearing. She wore a simple white shift, slightly soiled with sweat and dust. She wore her dark hair in a thick plait over her shoulder and it shone in the dappled sunlight under the trees. She was carrying a large, heavy jug.

"Well, thank God for small mercies. She looks as if she could take off my hand!"

"Yes she could at that. I don't think I've seen you at Compassion House before, but there's a first time for everyone; even a priest." The woman poured the water from her jug into a large barrel at the edge of the courtyard.

"I'm looking for Sofia."

"Most men are. She's in seclusion. Perhaps you would accept the compassion of her second? My name is Serena." She dipped a gourd into the water and brought it to him. The girl had a healthy curvy body and she swayed when she moved with a luscious roll of her hips that spoke of an ease with her body Jules did not see in the village women. Then again village women were virtuous and clearly this Serena was not. She parted her lips as she offered the gourd.

"I'm not here for that."

"Even priests need compassion. You look thirsty. Drink."

Jules looked suspiciously at the girl, and licked his lips.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him through her lashes. "It's just a cup of water." She took a small sip herself and held it out again.

Accepting water from a sinner was not in itself a sin. He took the gourd.

"Thank you, Serena." He sipped the water. It was sweet and cool. He could almost feel his body soak it up. He could hardly slow himself down as he gulped the rest. He handed her back the cup. "It's a long walk back to the village and I really do need to speak with Sofia. How long will she be in seclusion?"

The girl looked deeply into his eyes. Jules felt he was being weighed and measured. She giggled a little as if she were laughing at a private joke. Jules was slightly miffed. He hated feeling there was something going on he knew nothing about.

"It will be the full of the moon tonight. Sofia will make the offerings when the moon reaches its height. She will need to recover tomorrow. Perhaps you could speak to her the day after that." She turned back to the hut and said over her shoulder, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? I am her second you know and very skilled."

Jules would not be toyed with. He reached for her arm, spinning her around. "Listen, my girl. You're not safe here. There's much anger in the village. There's only one thing you can do to save yourselves. You must repent your sinful ways and accept the authority of the Church. There's no time to lose. If you come back with me and repent of your sins, I can save you."

The girl looked at the hand gripping her arm and Jules pulled away quickly as if he were burnt. She smiled again. "I see. You will save us. Well, priest, I thank you for the warning. Now perhaps you can at least save me a walk."

"I'm speaking of your soul, girl, not your feet." Jules covered his embarrassment in anger. "You people are all the same. You think only of the moment and never of eternity. But at this moment you're not safe! Are you so thick you don't understand! You must come with me. I can protect you in the sanctuary. Now go get Sofia!"

Jules noticed the dogs that had been friendly a moment before had taken up position between him and their mistress. They didn't look so friendly any more. Serena crossed her arms and looked him square in the face.

"I thank you for your concern, priest, but my soul is safe; as is my person." She turned to a small hand cart containing a couple of water-skins and heaved a big one onto her shoulder. "However, the sisters at the hospice are expecting this. As you are going back to the village in any case, perhaps you can take it." She held out a large water skin.

"We have the well. We have no need of your water. Give my warning to Sofia. If you are still here at nightfall, I wash my hands of you." He stalked off, not waiting for her response.

By evening the heat of the day had passed through oppressive to stifling. The wind had picked up, but instead of cooling it filled the air with a crackling warning. The setting sun painted a few clouds bright red as they skittered across the sky. Jules thought of blood and hoped it was not a true portent. He was usually not bothered by the heat, but this evening he felt feverish. He fidgeted and paced. He snapped impatiently at the sisters when they asked after the water from the hills for the hospice. Finally he sought the calm coolness of the sanctuary for the solace of prayer, but he had no more luck quietening his mind than he did his body. He had to move. He could only think of the girl in the hills, of her smile, the shine of her hair and the generous curves of her hips as she walked across the courtyard. His vow of chastity had never been such a heavy burden before. Something must have happened. Serena must have bewitched him! Jonas and Darren were right. Something had to be done and now it was personal.

The men of the village usually gathered after dinner, Jules rose from his prayer and hurried into the village. By the time he got to the tavern, the men had already drunk deeply from the kegs. There were many raised voices as they all piled out into the road reaching for staves and pitch forks. Jules could feel the blood lust in the men. There were a good two dozen of them here, pretty much the entire able bodied male population, and the atmosphere hovered between grim duty and carnival excitement. Jules couldn't think clearly. His robe felt heavy and itchy. Something was not right here. Some of the men looked at him suspiciously. Jonas roughly shouldered his way past Jules and stepped up on a box to address the gathering.

"Tonight is a great night in the history of our village, boys. Tonight we rid our land of the curse that has plagued us for years. Already God smiles on our intensions and lights our way." Jonas waved at the full moon high in the sky lighting the fields with a silvery glow. "A man has to defend his family and his property. She's a threat and has to go. Now. Come on!" Jonas jumped down and with a wave of his hand, headed off up the road. The wind tugged at his hair and clothing as if to hold him back, but he strode on regardless. The rest followed him.

Darren pulled Jules aside and whispered in his ear. "We're doing this Father. Are you with us or against us?"

"I cannot condone murder." Jules shook his head to clear it. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"It's not murder, Father. It's self defence. Coming?"

As soon as Jules made the decision to go to the hills, the grip on his belly relaxed. He started at a fast walk and soon caught up with Jonas and the other men at the head of the pack. But something was pushing him onwards. He had to hurry. Something was happening he had to get there. He had to get there now! The compulsion made no sense to his mind, but it could not be denied. He walked faster and reached the trees well ahead of the rest of the party.

The forest was completely different at night. The well worn path was easy to follow in the moonlight, but the wind was still high and every now and then a cloud would pass over the moon. Jules broke into a run. Some small part of his mind wondered how long he could keep up the pace, but he felt so good. He felt better than good. He felt alive and powerful. The wind whipped through his hair and little branches cut and scratched at him. His robe caught on the branches, and ripped tangling around his feet. He fell hard, skinning his knee and losing a shoe. He began to panic. He couldn't slow down! Nothing could get in the way of his quest. Something was pulling at him. He had to get up. He struggled to his feet but the heavy wool tugged at him like a millstone. He tried to take a step forward and the cloth tripped him again. He yanked at the stuff but it wouldn't come free of the branch. He had to move. Now! He ripped the tattered robe from his body and ran naked through the trees.

Freed from his clothing Jules moved faster and with better grace. He always put his foot down on soft ground and it was almost as if the branches parted for him. He could feel movement in the forest. It was as if the whole forest ran with him. Suddenly a huge stag passed him and took off up the path. He was a magnificent animal with an enormous rack of antlers that seemed to slip through the branches like the wind. A surge of energy coursed through the man. Jules increased his pace to match the stag. Two more bucks fell in step on either side of him. He could hear even more behind him. Jules ran on. The exhilaration of running with the deer filled his heart with joy and added more speed to his headlong race through the forest. They no longer followed the main path, but ran straight through the trees. A low rumbling sound rolled through the forest. Jules wasn't sure if it was thunder or the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He thought his heart would burst with the effort, but he could not have stopped even if he wanted to.

Jules followed the stag and the compulsion in his veins until they broke out of the trees, and came to a stop in a large grotto nestled into the side of the hill. The clearing was lush with growth. Flowering plants filled the night air with the scent of life and plenty. There was a large pool in the middle of the clearing fed by a small spring bubbling from the rocks on the side of the hill. The Stag stopped at the edge of the pool. Jules' breath came in hard gasps and his head swam. He doubled over to catch his breath and just had time to notice a beautiful naked woman rising from the pool to embrace the Stag before he passed out.

Jules hurt all over. What had possessed him to run like that? A drop of water hit his face and he opened his eyes. The moon shone right in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"Here drink this. It will revive you." The voice was soft and musical. Gentle hands helped him to raise his head and held a gourd of water to his lips. He drank deeply at first and then pushed it away.

"Poison! Witchcraft! This is how you bewitched me at first!" Jules squinted in the moon light to see the heart shaped face of the woman kneeling beside him framed with long tendrils of wet hair. She looked like Serena, but different. Her skin glowed like an opal. Her breasts lifted with her breathing and the curls between her legs were dark and wet. Jules was suddenly very aware of his own nakedness. He could hardly remember when he had lost his robe, let alone why.

"Do you know why you are here, priest?" Her voice was sweet and musical.

"I came to." Jules couldn't finish the thought. She shifted position slightly and her scent filled the air clouding his mind.

"You came to heal the land, didn't you? To heal the sick, to protect your flock?"

"Yes! That's it! The villagers think you've cursed the land! They're coming to burn you."Jules sat up and tried to push away from her. Where were the others? Could they have followed him through the trees?

"Don't worry, my girls are safe. The men will wander for a few hours until they tire and return to their beds. But it's not me who burns, is it priest?" She leaned towards him and brushed her lips across his cheek. Jules closed his eyes as a shudder passed through his body.

She whispered in his ear. "Yes. You burn like you've never burned before." Her voice was like smoke and her breath on his face was intoxicating. He knew he should move away but he could no more do that than remove his own foot.

"And you're such a good man. You'd do anything for your village, wouldn't you?"

"I would die for them," He breathed.

"Good. Yes, very good. And I imagine you would kill for them." Her lips were close to his, he could smell the sweetness of her breath mixed with the scent of her arousal.

"Yes. God forgive me, yes."

"Don't worry, you're forgiven. Now here's the important question." She breathed into his face; her hair brushing his eyes. "Are you listening, priest?"

Jules was confused, he could hardly think, his body was betraying him. He wanted to take her. "Yes, I'm listening."

"Will you live for them?"

"What?" The question struck Jules as completely incomprehensible.

She looked up at the moon, a perfectly bright circle high in the sky. "No more questions. It's time."

She stood and raised her arms to the moon throwing back her head. The moonlight glistened off her body throwing all her curves into relief. She started to dance, her steps back and forth in and out, around in a circle. Her hips moved in languorous counterpoint to her feet and her arms wove through the air in a subtle narrative Jules felt he should know but couldn't put words to. There was a gentleness to her dance that belied its strength. Jules could feel the power building in the clearing echoed in his own body. There was more rumbling and this time Jules knew it for thunder.

Her movements were hypnotic. Jules watched the sway and curl of her arms and wanted them around him. He watched the muscles in her thighs as she stepped back and forth in her dance and wanted to part them. He watched her long wet hair swing in time to her movements and he wanted to dig his fingers into the tresses and pull her close to him. Jules got to his feet and started to follow her around the circle. He felt her rhythm in his bones and without noticing it he started to step in time with her. Her backside was a perfect curve like a ripe fruit. He ached to touch, to feel, to take. His rod was painfully erect, full and weeping its need. She turned in her dance to face him dancing backwards and beckoning him on. Her belly was flat and strong and her nipples were tight and hard. She parted her lips and her little pink tongue ran around her teeth. Something deep and primal in Jules let go and he lunged for her.

She met him with passion. Their lips crushed between urgent teeth. He grabbed her ass and lifted her onto his cock. Lightening lit the sky as he thrust into her again and again. She threw back her head and laughed grinding her hips into him.

"Oh, you wonderful Man!"

She kissed him again pushing her tongue deeply into his mouth as her cunt gripped him and pulled his release from him. He screamed into her mouth. He crushed her against his chest and pumped his juice into her. It seemed to go on forever. A lifetime of denial spent in one sinful moment. He knew he was undone but he could not let go of her. He lowered her gently to the ground and his spent member slipped out of her like an errant boy caught in the pantry. He clung to her sobbing for his life destroyed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Oh what have I done?" He couldn't stop crying, great heaving sobs shuddered through him.

"Shh, Man, be at peace." She held him and stroked his face. "All is as it should be. Look at the sky. Look."

She held his face between her soft hands and turned his face to the sky. The moon shone weakly through the thick billowing clouds. A big fat rain drop fell on Jules' face. His sob caught in his throat.

"I don't understand."

"I know. Now come love me again and perhaps you will."

For two days it rained; a gentle steady rain that fed the earth without washing away the dry soil. The men who had charged into the hills with such righteousness came home wet and confused but with fire in their blood. Their wives welcomed their fierce need with the same openness as the dry land soaked up the water from the sky. The next morning the men saw the rain as a sign of divine favour and quickly gathered what little seed they had and headed out to plant.

On the morning of the third day, Father Jules came down from the hills with his new wife and several barrels of water from the sacred pool. As they passed the newly planted fields sodden puddles gave way to little green sprouts. Jules looked at his bride and she just smiled.

When they got back to the village, the first order of business was to fill in the well. From now on all the water for the village would come from the sacred pool.

_______
© 2008 felicia Mansur. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: felicia Mansur wrote her first piece of erotica at the tender age of 14. Since then she has joyfully explored several interesting careers (short attention span) but really enjoys writing stories designed to induce arousal in those with an inclination towards Domination or submission or anyone else for that matter!
Read felicia's bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.

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