Chastity. It's come to mean the same thing as celibacy but it didn't always. 'Celibacy' isn't what that word’s gonna mean if you see it in old poems and shit.

In old poems 'chastity' is going to mean something like 'purity through appropriate sexual conduct.' A girlie could be getting dicked down all day every day and still be perfectly chaste and pure if that dick was being administered under the approved circumstances.

In the village of Spetlamu, despite the fact that she was functionally a sex worker, Tatiana was chaste and pure. The sexual acts she was seen and known to perform all fell within the prescribed boundaries of her social role.

Tatiana, even as drenched with cum as she usually was, was chaste and pure and a good girl doing her job as village milkmaid.

But Joanna Bolliger was a dirty fucking slut.

Mothers would hurry their children past her in the street, telling them not to look at the great harlot, Joanna Bolliger.

Men would catcall her in the street. Demanding she show them her miniscule teats. Jeering at the great stumpet, Joanna Bolliger.

Girls her own age would blank her. Would laugh and gossip behind her back but not speak to her. Not speak to the tarty skank, Joanna Bolliger.

Joanna Bolliger had only had sex three times in her life. And each time had been with the same man. 

But those three times were under circumstances outside the acceptable bounds. So that was it. Joanna Bolliger was a slag. A nasty little whore. Case closed.

People spoke about her as if she was as big a slut as Irene Ivermectin, which Joanna thought was terribly unfair. Irene really was a complete whore! She got herself raped every week. 

But how did Joanna come to get her reputation? The story goes back to when she was a loli. But don't worry (or get your hopes up), nothing slutty happened to her back then. She simply met a fairy.

Loli Joanna was playing among the rows of flowers in the tulip fields when she saw it. 

A little picturebook princess in a big pink dress, waving a sparkly little magic wand and propelling herself through the tulips on shimmering butterfly wings.

"Wow! A cute fairy!" Joanna had said.

"Wow! A cute loli!" the fairy had said. 

And they played together all afternoon, all across the fields and all through the woods.

Then evening fell and the fairy went back to the Seelie Court, removing itself from Linear Time, the Material World, and the Lands of Lust and Pain. Back to Fairyland it went.

Joanna supposed the fairy never even thought about her again. What was there to think about? It had simply had a nice afternoon playing with a cute loli. That must happen a lot for fairies.

But Joanna sure thought about the fairy again. She thought about the fairy everyday.

So one day, some years later, when the Miller approached her and told her he possessed all the secrets of the Fairy Realm, he had her absolute attention.

"Are you sure?" Joanna checked.

"Aye," said the Miller, "All the secrets of the Fairy Realm. Got them all, I have."

"Only you're the Miller. Are you sure you don't mean 'all the secrets of flour' or something?"

"What, so just because I'm the Miller, you think all I am is the Miller, do you? You think I can't have other interests and skills?"

Joanna told him that she'd been terribly rude and that she saw that now and was sorry. Then she asked if she could please have all the secrets of the Fairy Realm.

"What it is I've got exactly," the Miller clarified, "is three books. Three handsome volumes of wisdom, handed down from my mother."

He showed her the three, beautifully bound, little leather books.

'Discourse On The Manner and Manners of the Fair Folk'

'Fey Blessings'

and 'How To Literally Become a Fairy.'   

"That's the one I want," said Joanna, pointing. "That one. 'How To Literally Become a Fairy.' Fuck yeah. Donnez-moi."

The Miller told all three books could be hers, given in order, but there would be a price.

“Bend over and spread those skinny little cheeks,” he said. “I’m having you up the ass.”

"Up the ass?”

“Yeah. I can hardly titfuck you, can I? Come on. Hurry it up. Let’s see that little brown besthole.”

Joanna really wanted those fairy books. Wanted them more than she wanted her anal virginity, she guessed. Here goes nothing, she thought, and dropped her trousers and panties to the floor.

She lent herself over a stool to present her ass to the Miller. She didn’t spread her cheeks for him though. He could do that himself.

There are many ways to make anal sex a comfortable and enjoyable experience for the person on the receiving end. Joanna didn’t know any of them, and if the Miller knew them he didn’t care. The dude just shouted “Yee-haw!” and stuffed his dong into her poop pipe. 

Joanna Bolliger’s first sexual experience was painful, humiliating and squalid.

She walked back to the Tavern, tears streaming from her eyes, her anus bleeding, and only one book under her arm. 

“One assfuck, one book,” the Miller had said afterwards, wiping his cock clean on her panties, “You want all three, you’re gonna have to open your besthole for me two more times.”

Word soon got around the village that Joanna had let the Miller fuck her besthole in exchange for ‘Discourse On The Manner and Manners of the Fair Folk.’ Mostly because the Miller proudly told every single person he spoke to all week.

When her father heard of it, he wanted a word.

"Daughter, is it true what the people say? That you let the Miller fuck your besthole in exchange for ‘Discourse On The Manner and Manners of the Fair Folk?'"

"Aye Father," she said, ashamed.

"You stupid fucking cunt. They’ve got six copies of that in the library."

Joanna felt rotten. 

It turned out she didn’t even like ‘Discourse On The Manner and Manners of the Fair Folk’ when she read it.

It was a horrible book! It was a horrible book full of horrible lies and slander. The book said that fairies were all wicked, mean tricksters who did horrible things to people just to amuse themselves.

"The Fey are cruel tricksters ever," the book said. "They cannot be otherwise for such is their nature."

What utter bullshit! Fairies were friendly and fun.

Joanna couldn’t believe she’d torn her rosy ringpiece for this badly-researched, essentialist hogwash.

Still, she did want the other two books… She wanted them very much. She’d checked and the library definitely didn’t have those. ‘Fey Blessings’ and, most importantly, ‘How To Literally Become a Fairy.' Just two more assfucks and they could be hers.

Checking the library wasn’t the only research she did. This time, before going to see the Miller, she talked to her best friend’s little brother about besthole sex. Her best friend’s little brother took it up the butt all the time and loved it. He could tell her all the secrets.

"It’s going to be different this time," Joanna told the Miller, "We’re gonna prepare properly, we’re gonna lube up good, I’m gonna set the pace and you’re going to bring me to orgasm."

"Sure, I guess," said the Miller without enthusiasm, "As long as I get to jizz up your shitter then we're golden."

This time Joanna really did enjoy. The Miller absolutely did not bring her to orgasm, but she got herself there a couple of times by rubbing her clit like crazy while he was up her.

And she got the book. Took it home, opened it up and saw…

Porn.

The book was porn. 'Fey Blessings' was roughly two hundred pages of illustrations of fairies having sex with human men. 

Kinda cool, Joanna supposed, but wow it was not what she’d wanted or expected.

"Have you heard about slutty Joanna Bolliger?" the village folk gossiped. "She took it up the besthole just to get some book of fucking fairy porn! And she cummed twice while her ass was being smashed. What a fucking whore."

There was one book left.

‘How To Literally Become a Fairy’

The book that promised a new life, a better life, away from the ugliness and spite of these gossips. A life of drifting blissfully on the warm breeze. A life she’d glimpsed that one afternoon in her childhood when she’d been truly happy.

Joanna went back to the Miller’s house for the final time.

He’d set the scene, she’d give him that. A fire was roaring and two glasses of wine were poured.

“This is the last time we’re ever going to fuck, isn’t it?” he asked her.

"Total honesty - it’s probably gonna be the last time we ever talk or make eye contact."

"Then you’ll understand why this time I’m gonna totally fucking wreck you."

And the Miller fell upon her. No lube and no mercy. She hadn't even had time to knock back her wine.

There, in the flickering firelight, the Miller thrust not for pleasure but for suffering. To take every frustration and sorrow he'd ever felt out on the young girlie's besthole, as if it was the cause of them all. He fucked to hurt, and he fucked hard. Harder than his old body could reliably sustain. Into the screaming, sobbing bitch he slammed in wildly sporadic bursts of energy and exhaustion.  

The lack of rhythm made it impossible for Joanna to anticipate the next blow. It wasn't like being fucked, it was like being punched in the asshole by a gang of drunks. The cock fell onto and into her anus chaotically. She could not adapt or acclimatise to the pain. Sometimes her back door was being jackhammered. Sometimes his bone dry dick was clumsily withdrawing from her dry asshole and having to weasel its way back up there again. Sometimes he was roaring abuse at her like he was leading a protest march against all girlies' right to life. Sometimes he was just lying like a dead weight on top of her or threatening to have a cardiac arrest.

It was violent. It was ugly. It was agony.

When she could see anything through her tears, Joanna kept her eyes on the book. There it was on the little table next to the fire.

‘How To Literally Become a Fairy’

Her ticket out of a life like this. And all she had to do was last until the Miller disgorged his seed. 

Then Joanna felt something change. Something in the air. She felt eyes on her.

She felt like someone was watching. Villagers at the window, come to jeer? No. No. The curtains were drawn.

But someone was watching her anal torment. She knew it. She could feel it.

Then her eyes moved back to the little table by the fireplace. Someone was standing on it. Someone very small. Someone very familiar. Someone Joanna had thought about every day since they'd first met.

A little picturebook princess in a big pink dress, holding a sparkly little magic wand.

The fairy. Her magical fairy friend she'd met as a loli. It was here, now. Watching this gruelling and soul-destroying dub-con ordeal. 

Joanna didn't know what to think. Was she going mad? Had the cruelty of the assfucking broken her mind? Why would her fairy friend be here now? How could her fairy friend be here now? Joanna didn't want the fairy to see her like this. She wanted the fairy to think of her as a cute and happy loli, not as the degraded and defiled piece of worthless meat she was now, howling in pain from an old man's pathetic penis.

But it would all be worth it.

Joanna would earn the book and become a fairy herself. She would be cute and happy again. She just had to let the Miller finish. She just had to earn the book.

The little fairy on the table smiled at her.

Joanna tried to smile back.

The little fairy laughed.

The little fairy picked up the book.

The little fairy threw it into the fire.

Joanna's body had felt so hot. So hot from the pounding, from the Miller's sweaty body against hers, and from the warmth of the flames that were now burning up the book all this had been for. Her body had felt so hot but now, head to toe, it just flashed ice cold. Cold with hopelessness and betrayal. 

The little fairy princess in the pink dress watched ‘How To Literally Become a Fairy’ burn to ashes and watched the Miller torture Joanna's ass, no sign that the assualt would be stopping any time soon.

"Why?" wailed Joanna. 

"The Fey are cruel tricksters ever," her childhood friend said. "We cannot be otherwise for such is our nature."