The Virgin’s Revenge
a short story by

Sioned Jones

Once upon a time, a time almost our own, in a place nearer than you might imagine, there lived a young girl. As this girl is to be the heroine of our story, I must mention that though materially poor, she was richly endowed with all the qualities one would expect to find in a heroine. She was radiantly beautiful of course, but more importantly she possessed grace, wisdom, kindness, diligence, patience and humour, moreover, her virtues seemed all the more magnified because of her young years. All her life she had cherished one ambition with a stirring, unyielding passion; to be a Sorceress. She had studied long hours the nature of Nature, she had learned on dark nights the wisdom of the Supernatural and she had developed her senses to hear, see and feel with her true instincts, which so many of us have become deaf, blind and numb to. Finally, as the laws concerning the inauguration of true Sorceresses stipulated, "It must be so", she had jealously guarded her virginity.

In the vicinity where our "Virgin-Sorceress-to-be" lived, there also lived a wealthy, strapping young man of independent means, not unattractive, nor evil, bad or wicked, but unfortunately, careless and inconsiderate in the way that so many people are, who have never lived an inconvenient moment or had to struggle to succeed. To him, life was for the taking, and he took gladly, never for a moment considering the consequences or that it might be an exciting new sensation for him to perhaps try giving for a change.

Chance is a fickle thing, and as chance rules lives, it so happened that this "Virgin-Sorceress-to-be" and the "Wealthy young man of independent means" met. The pair were completely startled by one another. The Virgin because her finely tuned instincts rang huge alarm bells of foreboding and the youth because of the dazzling beauty of the maiden. So entranced was he, that he could hardly contain himself, He felt a swelling of lust, as he had never experienced before, so the youth, knowing nothing other than taking, decided to take the Virgin then and there for all he was worth.

Unfortunately, whilst the Virgin was indeed spiritually and intellectually the stronger, alas, she remained physically the weaker and before she had a chance to voice the consequences the loss would mean to her, before she was even able to cry for help, the "young man of independent means" had knocked her off her feet and had her pinned to the ground. Unable to defend herself physically, and realising she was to lose all she had worked so hard for, the "Virgin-Sorceress-to-be", using the knowledge she had acquired with such passion, gathered herself mentally for a brief moment, closed her eyes and with all the concentration she could muster in this moment of great fear, cast her first and final spell. In a scream that raged with the pain of her perforation and loss, she bewitched her hymen. The deed done, the young man got up hurriedly, arranged himself and swaggered off. The Virgin, a virgin no more, nor ever "Sorceress-to-be", lay on the ground, wrecked, tears raining from the new knowing look in her eyes.

In his hurry to depart the youth had failed to notice that a filmy shred hung from his penis. He continued to fail to notice it several hours later whilst bathing, especially as he was not a stickler for keeping himself scrupulously clean. He only chanced to notice it two days later, whilst urinating, by which time the shimmery film had integrated partially with his own body and had tucked it’s ends neatly into his foreskin, and, as it did nothing to impede him in the slightest from relieving himself, he paid it no further attention.

Being a virile young man, it was not long before he chanced to be with another woman to satisfy his sexual appetite. Fortunately, on this occasion the woman was able to give her consent, but imagine her disappointment, and our antagonist’s embarrassment when he experienced himself to be impotent! Both parties put it down to the vast amounts of alcohol that he had allegedly drunk, but the youth, through his sudden disguise of inebriation, was unmistakably disturbed. When eventually he summoned the courage to attempt such a feat again, his nerves were such that any healthy male would have found it impossible to sustain anything other than an imbecilic grin. In his ungenerous and inconsiderate manner, he now sought only to satisfy his own insatiable hunger, but no extent of romance, pain or perversion could help him even manipulate himself.

Meanwhile, the hymen was thriving. It had long since passed his foreskin and soon it more or less engulfed his whole abdomen in a harmless, soft, silvery film, but as he no longer shared anyone’s bed nor anyone his, no-one saw his predicament, and he, ashamed of his state, spoke to no-one of it. Alas no text book, medical books or encyclopaedias were able to enlighten him as to his mysterious malady. The iridescent film simply continued to swathe his thighs and stomach, and he began truly to fret. The worry, it must be said, caused his hair to go grey very rapidly and in no time at all it had all fallen out. Not wishing to suffer the indignities of a wig, he decided to become a recluse; so ashamed was he, in fact, that he vowed never to see anyone again. The hymen, apparently unaffected by it’s host’s physical and mental distress, progressed to envelope his knees, shins, feet, each and every toe completely and most of his torso with alarming rapidity. In his fear the young man could not bring himself to eat, but his weight loss served only to accelerate the rate at which the hymen covered his arms and hands.

The youth, now completely impotent, isolated, friendless, sick to the soul and petrified to boot, was no longer surprised when the glistening skin began to creep up his neck and over the top of his (now totally bald) head. As if to purposely torture him, it seemed to take days to cover each crease of his forehead, every wrinkle around his eyes, the tip of his nose, and the complex folds of his ears, but as he began to pull and tear at it, frantically trying to stop it from sealing his mouth, he only served to bruise and scratch himself and the hymen’s growing process seemed to accelerate once again. Finally his whole body was wrapped and sealed in the soft, silvery, impenetrable hymen. He found himself suffocating in a moist, silken shroud. It can’t have taken him that long to die, I suppose. How long can one survive without air? It probably took him no longer to die, than to rape the Virgin, though I’m told that he struggled for quite some time, trying to tear at the film and rupture it. The fool. After all, everyone knows that a hymen can only be broken once, can’t it?

Copyright :- Sioned Jones 1995

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