Message-ID: <20930asstr$942243000@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <19991026011205.69970.qmail@hotmail.com> X-Originating-IP: [216.164.152.50] From: "Ann Douglas" Subject: {ASSM} {GALAGO} The Erotic Adventures Of Robin Hood (Ann Douglas) 2/4 X-Post-Date: Tue, 26 Oct 1999 01:11:56 GMT Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 09:10:00 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin The Erotic Adventures Of Robin Hood by Ann Douglas (ann_douglas@hotmail.com) Part Two With the gold wagons in tow, the Merry Men and their reluctant guests made their way down winding paths. Gisbourne and the Sheriff tried to take note of the roads they took, but soon gave up the effort. Only a fool or a man born to them attempted to travel the maze that was Sherwood. It was no small reason that few ever ventured off the main road through it. Marian rode next to Little John at the head of the column, preferring his silent company to that of her intended. Every once in a while, she would ask Little John when she would get to meet their host. John would merely answer such inquires with short cryptic replies. After an hours journey, the forest in front of them suddenly opened into a large clearing. One moment all she could see were trees seemingly stretching to the horizon. A breath later there was a village. As they unloaded the wagons and led off Sir Guy and the Sheriff, Marian was turned over to the care of a plump Friar named Tuck. If she was surprised to see a man of the church with the outlaws, she was more so by the many women and children living among them as well. It was not what she expected from all the stories she’d heard. Then again, she had to consider the source of those stories. “Unlike your Norman brothers,” Friar Tuck said in response her observation. “We do not make war on the helpless.” A familiar face nearby abruptly caught her notice. A familiar face and an even more familiar dress. “Jane!” she cried out. “Milady,” the serving girl said with enthusiasm as she looked up and saw Marian. “It is good to see you again.” The younger girl was still wearing the garment she had borrowed earlier. Marian could not help but wonder if she looked the same when she wore that dress. Did her nipples press so tightly against the fabric as Jane’s did? Did men look at her the same way she could even see the Friar looking now. As Jane moved off, Marian looked to the Friar to explain her presence. “As I said Milady, we do not make war on women and children.” The more she saw of the small village, the more Marian was impressed. Here were a people living in peace with each other. A place where the strong did not necessarily prey on the weak. One small thing did baffle her. Wherever she looked, she saw a people that were happy but still incredibly poor. What had happened to all the riches the outlaws had stolen over the last year? Did this never seen Robin Hood keep them for himself. “What profit we may gain from our endeavors, Milady, are used to care for those under our protection. But as you see, we need very little to be happy.” the Friar explained when she voiced her question. “The rest is held in trust for Good King Richard, so that we might soon gain his release and have him return to our troubled land.” “Richard returned,” Marian thought with excitement, her heart suddenly uplifted. “That would almost be too much to dare hope.” “Milady, be careful!” the Friar called out as Marian, distracted by her sudden flush, tripped on an exposed tree root and fell forward onto a muddy patch of ground. She landed with a resounding thud, but only hurt her dignity. “Milady, are you hurt?” Tuck asked as he helped her up. “I will survive.” she said as she wiped some of the mud from her face and smiled. “I’ve been told toiling in the mud is good for the soul.” “If Milady desires to cleanse herself from her toil,” Friar Tuck said. “There is a warm stream but two hundred paces beyond the clearing. I promise you none of our men will bother you in any way.” “Why thank you, dear Friar.” Marian replied. “And I think I would like it if you called me Marian. All of this Milady this and Milady that seems somewhat out of place.” “As you wish, Milady.” the chubby Friar grinned as he pointed out the footpath down to the stream. Leaving the jolly Friar behind her, Marian made her way down the trail. She stopped at the waters edge and turned about to see if she was truly alone. Up on the ridge, she could see the back of Friar Tuck as he sat on a fallen tree trunk, guarding her privacy. Sitting down on a large rock, Marian removed her sandals and dipped her feet into the stream. The water was indeed unseasonable warm. It had a nice comforting feel. Soft hands reached up and removed her headpiece, laying it down gently on the grass. Shaking her head, Marian let the full length of her long brown hair fall free. It had been a long hard journey and not without its excitements. The seventeen-year-old could use a little time alone to sort it all out. With her feet still in the running water, Marian began to undo the laces that held her traveling outfit together. She took a moment to again look about her, reassuring herself that she was truly alone. Satisfied, she pulled the last of the laces and led her garment fall free, exposing her breasts to the cool late afternoon air. She ran her hands over her mounds, feeling the weight of them in her hands and running her fingers across the nipples. It took but a brief touch to make them erect. Ever since she had first started to develop when she was but nine, Marian had always been secretly proud of her endowments. The Nuns into whose care she had been entrusted following her Mother’s death had always warned her about the sins of lust, and how they should be avoided. The good Sisters would certainly have been shocked had they discovered that Marian had discovered the joys of self-pleasure by her twelfth birthday. And practiced those joys at every opportunity. Removing her dirt covered dress, Marian laid it over the large rock, then moved a little further out, standing nude in the middle of the stream. Cupping her hands, she splashed water against her face and washed it clean. Then she repeated the motion against the rest of her body. The running water had felt so good against her legs that Marian moved back into the flow, this time to the deepest portion where the water rose to waist level. The rush of the current pressed between her legs, exerting a pleasing pressure against her womanhood. It had been far too long since she’d enjoyed the privacy to please herself. Even those nights when she had her own room in one Inn or another, she didn’t feel comfortable enough. Not with Gisbourne but a room away. Starting again with her bountiful breasts, Marian ran her hands down across her youthful body. Across her stomach they moved, gently tickling her smooth skin. Finally she came to the light brown patch of hair between her legs. The Royal Ward spread her fingers across the heavy bush, noting that it was wet for reasons having nothing to do with the stream. Marian closed her eyes and arched her head back as she pressed against her clit, sending a surge of warmth through her body. With a long accustomed familiarity, she manipulated her fingers both across and within her pussy. “Oh yes,” she whispered to the empty air as her fingers moved in and out. “I’ve missed this so much.” Faster and faster her fingers moved, responding to the increasing demands of her body. Each motion of her hands, each entry within herself, produced both pulsating waves of ecstasy and an unrelenting desire to reach orgasm. “Dear Mother of God!” she gasped as her body exploded, releasing all the passion she had held in check for so long. Her body quaked and her legs felt weak as she dipped lower into the water. Marian’s breath came in short gasps as she rode the cascading waves from within. She tried to make it last as long as possible, knowing full well that it would be but a brief moment. But what a moment it always was. “Mother of God, thank you.” she said in a prayer of thanks. It had long been her belief that the ability to enjoy such bliss had to be God’s greatest gift. And who better to thank for that gift than Mother Mary, who had been a woman herself. Minutes passed slowly as she let her breaths return to normal. She dropped down low enough to let the water crest just above her breasts. The gentle cascade of the stream washed away the remnants of her climax. “I better get back,” she thought as she stood to her full height. “Least the good Friar think I fell in and come looking for me.” Marian had just reached the stream’s edge and the rock upon which she had left her dress when she felt a sudden chill of apprehension. She looked up, just as a voice appeared out of the empty air. “I hope the water is to Milady’s taste.” said the same incorporeal voice that she had heard back on the road. “Who’s there?” she called out as she quickly grabbed the dirty dress and covered her naked breasts. “There is no need to fear, no harm will come to you.” continued the voice. “Where are you?” Marian called out, shifting her gaze right and left and finding nothing. “Why I’m right here.” the voice said. Marian whirled again, this time to confront the source. It was not what she expected. Yet in her heart, she knew it could only be one person. “You ... are ... Robin Hood? she asked, measuring each word carefully. The figure that had appeared not 20 paces away, in a spot she had just looked, stood only an inch or two taller than her own five four. Dressed from head to toe in suit of forest green, the stranger carried a long bow as well as a quiver of arrows. Dark and curly reddish brown hair, cut short beneath a feathered cap, topped a clean shaven and boyish face. At first glance, Marian thought she was facing a teenage boy.” “You are Robin Hood?” she repeated in even greater disbelief. The Outlaw in green laughed a soft laugh, stepping forward with broad, powerful steps. “Actually,” Robin Hood said in a voice that seemed to soften and change with each passing step. “My name is Robyn.” “By King Richard,” Marian exclaimed as the figure drew close enough for her to clearly see the contours of Robyn’s body . “You’re just a girl!” “I’ll have you know that I’m two years older than you, Marian Fitzswalter.” she said, her voice now totally changed. “So I’m hardly just a girl.” “This can’t be.” Marian said, still a little confused. “Everyone says that Robin Hood is Robert of Locksley, returned in secret from the Crusades.” “That is what I wish them to believe.” Robyn smiled. “Know that I am both his daughter and heir.” “Then Sir Robert is dead?” Marian asked. “No, not dead,” Robyn said as she sat down next to Marian. “All of England does know that Richard has been held captive this past year by allies now turned enemies. What few know as well is that his faithful Locksley also shares his cell.” “And you have accomplished all of this in his name.” Marian said in astonishment. “Created a standard around which all these good men and women have rallied.” “Not alone I haven’t.” Robyn said. “Little John deserves a great deal of the credit as well. I could never have done it without his help.” “Little John, that was the large man that led us here?” “Yes, he is impressive, is he not?” Robyn grinned. “Are you and he... well...” “Me and Little John?” she laughed. “Not very likely. John has both a wife and six children, and he loves them all. I’m not fool enough to get myself into a situation like that. Besides, there are other, what shall I say ... considerations that would prevent anything like that.” “The voice,” Marian asked, changing the subject. “How do you change your voice and make it appear out of the air?” “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always had a talent for mimicry.” Robyn said, as her voice seemed to come from behind Marian. “It seemed a good idea to use it when addressing outsiders. I doubt Sir Guy and the Sheriff would be impressed by my natural voice.” Marian nodded her head in agreement. “And as for making it appear where I am not, well that’s just a little trick a mage once taught me.” “I still cannot believe that you are the scourge that has terrified all of Nottingham.” the younger woman went on. “That the legend is all a myth.” “I am no myth.” Robyn said quite seriously. “It’s said that Robin Hood is the deadliest archer in all England.” Marian countered, displaying the independent curiosity that so infuriated Gisbourne. “Would you claim that title as well?” At that, Robyn stood and looked across the stream. Her blue eyes came to rest on a small dead tree some hundred yards distant. A small skinny thing with only two small branches left. The thickest of which was only two inches. “Do you see that small tree down the opposite bank?” she asked Marian. It took a few moments for Marian to focus on the tree in the fading afternoon light. “Yes I see it.” “The right or the left.” “What?” “The right or the left,” Robyn repeated. “Pick a branch.” “But why...?” “Oh never mind.” Robyn said impatiently. Before even another word could form on Marian’s lips, Robyn reached into her quiver and notched two arrows to her bow. It took but another heartbeat for her to aim. Then in the blink of an eye, the nineteen year old released her hold on the drawstring and sent the bolts flying into the center of each branch, cleaving them both in two. “That was unbelievable.” Marian gasped. “I told you I was no myth.” The two young women talked of a number of subjects. It had been a very long time since Marian had the opportunity to talk with someone of intelligence. At least someone who wanted to hear what she had to say. Too many of the women she spent her time with wanted only to talk of their latest conquests and how they might please them. “As I heard, you were to be married on the morrow.” said Robyn. “I apologize for the delay.” “Would be that the delay had been made permanent.” Marian commented. “You don’t love Gisbourne?” Robyn asked. “I would sooner take a viper to my breast than that man to my bed.” Marian answered in unrestrained anger. “Knowing of Sir Guy, I can understand that.” Robyn nodded sympathetically. “Are you a virgin?” she asked out of curiosity, thinking that few girls as old as Marian still were. “No man has ever touched me!” Marian said with righteous indignation. “That wasn’t the question I asked.” Robyn said, looking deep into the other woman’s brown eyes. “Let me put it another way. Is it only Gisbourne’s bed that you wish to avoid -- or is it that of any man?” Marian seemed to ponder the question for long seconds, taking the time to frame an answer. When she began to speak, the tone of resignation in her voice was more than evident. “What I might or might not wish doesn’t matter,” she began. “It is the way of the world. A woman may be given to a man by her closest male relative. What desire she may carry in her heart matters little.” “What may be the way of the world,” Robyn corrected, “Does not hold here in Sherwood. Within this Shire, a man or woman is free to follow their heart. So I ask you once more. If you could follow that which is your most secret desire, where would it lead you?” Marian seemed unwilling to answer. Robyn suspected it was because she had denied the truth for so long that even now she could not dare to give it voice. Of course the woman in green could be wrong about her conclusion, but somehow she didn’t think so. As with so many things in her life, the Heir of Locksley decided that direct action was the best course. Ann Douglas Web Page http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ann_Douglas/www/ ASSTR Donation Page http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.html ********************************************************* Comments are the life blood of any amateur writer, the currency in which they are paid. It only takes a few minutes to send off a few lines, which is little to ask for in exchange for hours spent creating a story. So be sure to take those few minutes, it can only result in more and better stories in the future. ********************************************************* ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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