A Girl and Her Unicorn Chapter 1: Virgin Connection

A Girl and Her Unicorn
Chapter One: Virgin Connection
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2016

Cherise – Tol Via Village, The Kingdom of Athlos

I hurried with my chores. My eyes were drawn to the dark edge of the Rothin forest. My family’s farm lay right on the edge of the dark woods. Silver flashed between the trees. A unicorn had neared the edge. Everyone in the village whispered about the dreadful, horned unicorns that roamed the large woods. Everyone who risked the forest always spoke of catching glimpses of the creatures and were thankful to make it out alive.

Everyone believed the unicorns killed those that trespassed.

But I knew the truth. Unicorns were majestic creatures. They were just shy. They would only approach a virgin girl. They feared men and their dangerous appetites. When a unicorn spotted a human, they fled unless they were pure like me.

I was six when I met Willoweyes. I had been playing on the edge of the farm, my short skirts flying about my bluish legs while my golden hair flowed behind me. They said humans outside the Kingdom of Athlos didn’t have pale-blue skin and shimmering golden or silver hair. I always thought that was strange. Willoweyes had a slivery coat that caught my eyes. I bet my light-red eyes lit up as I behold her beautiful sight for the first time.

Willoweyes had deep green eyes that fixed on me, a short horn, ivory horn rising between her eyes. Before meeting her, I had always thought horses were majestic creatures, but they seemed like mangy dogs compared to the grace and beauty of the foal. With a squeal of joy, I rushed to her. We spent the afternoon frolicking in the forest.

At the end, she had transformed into a girl and gave me a big hug. “I’m so glad we finally met,” she told me, speaking with a melodic tone. “I’ve been smelling your purity for weeks. I finally had the courage to come to the forest edge.”

“You were afraid?” I had asked in shock. “But…but…” My mind had been filled with tales of dangerous unicorns. I had realized that my parents’ stories may not all be true. It was a revelation for a six year old.

“I know you’re different,” she had smiled. “I’m Willoweyes. My dam named me that because of my eyes.”

“They are pretty eyes,” I had giggled.

“I like yours. So red. They contrast with your lovely skin.”

I had laughed and had then put a garland of wild flowers about her head, the crown resting against her small horn—even as a human, she still had her horn.

From that day forward, we were the best of friends, but only so long as I remained a virgin. At first, that was easy. We were innocent children, but as we aged, boys began to take notice of me. I resisted their attempts at clumsy seduction—nothing would keep me from my best friend. A week ago, I had reached a marriageable age, eighteen, and my parents pressured me to accept Anton’s marriage proposal.

So far I had refused, and my parents were disappointed that I hadn’t been betrothed for a year or longer.

I was eager to get out into the woods and see Willoweyes. Now that I was considered an adult, I had more responsibilities on the farm. It was like my parents wanted to drive me from their home and into Anton’s arms. He was a strong man, a year older and already taking over much of his father’s farm. They had a lot of acres of fields and were prosperous. Every farmgirl and village maid wanted to be Anton’s bride. They all glared at me.

I wished them well in trying to claim him. I didn’t want him.

Silver flashed through the trees. Willoweyes gambled back and forth, catching my attention. It had been a week since I had played with her in the woods, and she missed me. Luckily, my parents had gone to the village. If I could finish my chores, nothing would stop me from having an afternoon of fun with my unicorn.

I carried the slop bucket to the pig pen. It was full of half-rotten meat, potato peels, ends of carrots, and other leftovers. They snuffled and snorted as I approached. I dumped the garbage into their trough, and they all happily munched away.

I smiled as I headed to the barn. I needed to muck out the stables and curry down the plow horse. Our milk cow mooed as I entered, and the chickens clucked as I past their pen, many of the hens sitting in their nests while the rooster proudly walked back and forth.

“Mr. Rooster,” I nodded my head. I liked to pretend he was a lord and the hens were his subjects. I always showed my respect before I moved deeper into the barn.

I led the cow and the plow horse out of their stalls and cleaned them out. It wasn’t my favorite chore, but it had to be down. Our animals deserved to be happy and healthy. Then I combed down our plow horse’s coat. He was dun brown, so boring compared to Willoweyes’s silvery coat, and his mane was a boring black. And tangled.

I hummed as I ran the brush over his coat, eager to finish my chores and see Willoweyes. Now that she was fully grown, like me, I could ride her on back. I had done it a few times, and it was so much fun. I liked the excitement of her muscles rippling beneath my thighs, and this curious, naughty itch had formed between my legs. I had heard girls giggle about playing with their pussies and cumming.

I had never been much interested. I didn’t swoon over a handsome man’s broad shoulders like they did. I knew a few even grew excited over the softer curves a woman. I did sorta understand that. Willoweyes’s human form had matured, too, and she had nice breasts, bigger than mine. I had small little bumps, but Willoweyes had these round orbs that looked so soft.

The tiny itch grew between my thighs and my cheeks reddened. What would it be like to touch her soft breasts? Mine were firm, with tiny nipples. They hardened as I thought of Willoweyes’s breasts, my nipples pressing against the rough cotton of my brown dress. My hips shifted as I absently brushed the plow horse. Would Willoweyes like me to touch her breasts? It was only to satisfy my curiosity on how soft they were.

Not sexual. I had to be pure.

The plow horse nickered and stamped his hooves. He snorted, bringing me out of my thoughts. “What’s wrong, boy?”

“Hey, Cherise,” a deep voice said behind me.

I groaned. “Anton,” I sighed, turning to face the young man.

He wore only his woolen pants held up by suspenders, his bare chest rippling with muscles. His skin was tanned a darker blue by working shirtless. I guess he had a handsome face, his smile broad and his dark-red eyes staring at me with heat.

“I saw your parents in the village. I thought you might be lonely.”

“I’m not,” I answered, sweeping back my golden hair before I led the plow horse back to his stall. “But thank you for your concern.” No sense in being rude.

“I think I understand why you keep refusing my proposal,” he said.

“Oh?” I couldn’t tell him the truth that I wanted to protect my maidenhead for as long as possible. I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Willoweyes. “And?”

“You’re scared.”

“What?” I frowned as I closed the stall. I kissed the plow horse on the nose. “Scared of what?”

“Of surrendering your maidenhead.” He moved to me, so tall. I swallowed. “You’re afraid of the pain of your cherry popping. But I know how to help you out.”

“I…” My throat went dry. I looked around as he took another step. I backed up, bumping against the stall door. He stood over me, pinning me in place. “What are you doing?”

“Claiming my bride.”

I was shocked when he kissed me. His lips were hard against mine, moving with insistence. I trembled, not sure what I should do. I had never been kissed before. His whiskers rasped at my soft lips. I didn’t like how forceful he was, pushing me back against the stall door. It rattled as I squirmed.

His hand grasped the hem of my skirt, drawing it up my thighs.

“Anton,” I asked, shuddering as my skirt rose higher and higher. “Please…”

“Shh,” Anton whispered, his finger pressing on her lip. “Just relax. “I’ll make you feel good.”

I moved my head. “I don’t want you to. Please…please stop.”

My skin crawled as his rough hand caressed my upper thigh. My stomach tightened as his fingers moved higher. His lips pressed at my neck. He was disgusting. I didn’t want him. My hands pressed on his shoulders, trying to push him away as his fingers neared my pussy. I strained, but he was so strong.

His lips nibbled. He moaned in delight as his fingers brushed the folds of my pussy. Tears beaded in my eyes.

“You have to stop. I’m a virgin.”

“I know.” His thick finger pushed through my labia. I bit my lip and shuddered as he brushed my hymen.

“I…I can’t lose my maidenhead,” I gasped. “Please!”

“Why not?” he asked. “I know you’re afraid. I’ll make it mostly painless. I love you, Cherise.”

But I don’t love you. I glanced out the barn at the forest. I couldn’t see Willoweyes. Anton’s scent would have scared her off, driving her deeper into the woods. I should be with her. But if he took my cherry, I would never see her again.

How could I get out of this? How could I stop him?

“Please, Anton,” I moaned. “I’m not ready.”

His grin was so cocky. “Sure you are. Look at you. You’re ripe for the plucking.”

“I…I…I want to be a…a virgin when I’m…married.”

“So you’ll marry me?” he asked.

My heart tensed.