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The Other Side of Folklore	By : 3picurean Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Folklore Views: 29082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All stories and characters are fictional. I own nothing, much less folklore. .

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Just a bit late to wish you a merry Christmas (but not a happy new year.) I decided I was in the mood for another bit of Christmas foklore, but also another bit of Russian folklore, and I found something very inspiring that was both. Linda J. Ivanits, writer of "Russian Folk Belief" is who you have to blame for this. p.60 "The bathhouse was also an important locus of Yuletide divination ceremonies. Sometimes a group of girls would go to the bathhouse and, approaching one at a time, would stand with their backs to the building with their hems (of their dresses) above their heads, asking the bannik (bathhouse spirit) for a touch on the behind...- a soft warm touch was thought to be a good omen, while a cold, prickly one presaged misfortune." There's also a passage about it published in "The Bathhouse at Midnight". Happy holidays, please someone read this. At the end, you will find something corny and not very smutty at all, and all I can say about that is.... well, happy holidays.
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There were three Christmases in Novgorod. There was the solemn celebration at church, which just about all of the girls attended. The only exception was fair young Ilena, who lived with her family in the woods and repeated strange stories and lore that many of the girl's parents recognized, but would never tell to their own children. She talked about fire-birds, and Dolya the lady of luck. The solemn rites of Christ-mass were not very celebratory, and if anything, their compulsory nature made it even harder to focus on whatever substance they may have had. By contrast, forbidden rites seemed to be like weeds, harder to be rid of for the simple fact that they were forbidden. This is what Ilena counted on as she whispered conspiratorially to her fellow ladies. The responseswere all predictable; they were shy, shocked, and intrigued. Of course, they found it exciting. Why else should girls take it into their heads to throw their dresses over their heads and stroll up to a bathhouse doorway with their pretty bottoms exposed for the bathhouse spirit, or whoever else happened to be bathing within? The simple fact that girls throughout Russia lined up for such a vulgar parade of their valuable assets was proof enough that even the lovely, church-going virgin felt the need to expose another side of herself from time to time. On the day she met with her friends out in the woods, picking mushrooms, she did her best to convince everyone.

Her hardest battle was against Angelena, the preacher's daughter, who had not even consented to their joining the parties that would be raging in the streets. She refused to get drunk on Christmas, much less engage in some pagan divination. To be fair, she did have a good point when it came to the crucial matter of self-preservation. Why, a careless night could destroy a lady's life. With a smirk, green-eyed Ilena sniped at her with a witch's mischief in her demeanor. "It is too bad you know Greek but no Latin. Else you may have heard the phrase 'Carpe Diem'. Unfortunately for her, most Russian peasant girls were not aquainted with the centuries-old poetry of Quintus Horatius Flaccus. The other girls stared blankly, like cattle. Well, they would be cattle for her herd then. In the scuffle of teenage-girl hierarchy, she had more than enough clout to have them prancing to a bathhouse with their dresses over their heads. She was sure of it. "You know, Svetlana, you've been uncertain about that fellow you're courting. What if you miss your one chance for warning?" She asked seriously. In some lands such an argument would be condemned or laughed at, but here divination was very much alive in the heartsand souls of the people. She saw a storm brewing in the missionary-girl's eyes. The two had locked horns before. She had condemned Ilena for many things, not just skipping church, but replacing that mass for a darker one. She had accused her of brewing potions, and this was true to an extent. She knew many old remedies, and these included contraceptives and abortatives that worked far too well for the comfort of some decent folk. That too, however, was one of the weapons she could use against her foe. She had already bought the favor of other girls with "potions" of one sort or another. When Angelena declined to argue, Ilena knew something was amiss. Long after all of the mushrooms were picked, she stayed behind, so that the two were alone in the woods. "I've heard that you can... ensure the health of a child." She began obliquely. She looked humbly to the mud beneath them, her full lips trembling slightly before pressing together with determination. She fiddled with the two blonde braids that hung down her shoulders. Ilena looked effulgent. "Why Angelena, congratulations. I guess that scrawny husband of yours has something you don't after all." She remarked freely. To her surprise, Angelena seemed hurt. "You and the others don't like me, but I just don't want to get in trouble. I'm bearing my husband's child, and don't think I wouldn't do the same as you if I wasn't bound by responsibility." She whispered sadly. Ilena was intrigued. "You're already with child, correct?" She asked. "The child you want." She added, and recieved a nod. "You know, Angelena I'm thinking you should party more vigorously than any of us for Yuletide, and I'm thinking you should wave your ass in every doorway first so that you can test for men." Shesuggested. Predictably, the response to this was uncomprehending shock. Ilena explained. "Oh come now, there's an old saying among women. You can take on a hundred passengers so long as your cargo is already full." The crimson that overtook Angelena's snowy cheeks was priceless, but the sound she made was fairly encouraging. "Oh!" She said, sounding as though she was experiencing a great revelation. "Eureka." Muttered the mysteriously educated young herbalist with a grin. She would show these girls a thing or two about Yule, simple cattle that they were. Internally, she berated herself for the thought. Why so bitter? Well, as a non-Christian in Novgorod in 990 A.D., she had reasons for being bitter. She didn't want to hate everyone around her though, she really didn't. What a horrible fate that would be! If she divined anything this night, it would pertain to whether or not she could accept and befriend those around her who believed so very differently. That would indeed give her a very happy future to look forward to.

Once the word got out about Angelena, the other girls were determined to make their good friend redeem herself for her formerly self-rightious pontificating. They danced, sang, and drank with the men out on the streets on Christmas night, and Angelena, got so pickled she pissed herself and had to change. The general opinion was that the new Angelena was by far an improvement on the old one. This was how the Yuletide was celebrated among the common folk, and no Christ-mass had prepared Angelena for this sort of party. When the night grew darker, they began searching for bathhouses. No doubt some of the men they had cavorted with earlier were looking for bathhouses as well, so that they might hide inside of them. Angelena felt the eyes of her friends on her as she took a deep breath of night air, and with an inebriated giggle, she tossed her dress over her head. The cold winter air nipped at her bare pussy like an aggressive lover. She lead the procession to the first bathhouse, and flung open the door. Unwittingly, she presented her lovely christmas present to a couple of young boys only sixteen and eighteen respectively. They stared in amazement at the round, fruitful rear for a moment before the younger brother fingered the lady experimentally. "Oh, I like this." The sauced young preacher's girl mumbled loudly. She had grown slick and horny just out of waiting to be touched, and she was blissful when it came. "I've got a full cargo, so all aboard!" She roared hysterically, causing her new friends to laugh and applaud encouragingly. She smiled drunkenly. Approval was nice. Almost as nice as having nothing to lose.

The older brother took her meaning, and they took turns at her with all of the stamina of youth. This ended, once and for all, the rumor that a missionary's daughter was a missionary sort of girl. The older brother immediately started by pounding her from behind in ways she had never dreamt of, and the younger brother, odd boy that he was, squeezed,slapped, fingered, and licked her until she was begging for the real thing. When she begged them both to come inside of her, they were very obliging. She felt, or imagined she could feel their waves of cum dripping impotently into her womb. "This bathhouse is no good." She joked. "Go on without me, save yourselves!" She shouted in delirium and laughed. Her friends seemed to heed her warning, but in her dim vision, a shy girl stayed behind. "You look really pretty like this." She whispered dazedly, but with a startling heatedness. Her hands strayed under her dress. "I'm wet." She whispered, and seemed tempted to come closer. Ultimately though, she lacked the courage to join the game, and stood there watching instead, pleasuring herself before Angelena's eyes. Angelena rolled down the front of her dress playfully, so that it was bunched in the middle now, and exposed her breasts. She daringly kneaded and stroked them for her friend to watch as both of them approached climax. Enticed, her shy friend- the girl named Sasha, as she now recalled- came closer and let Angelena lick her. As she explored, Angelena realized that this could not result in a child either. When she was turned around, she gave Sasha a creamy, boy-flavored pussy to lick out. Meanwhile, she favored the two amazed young boys with Sasha-flavored kisses, and wished them a merry Yule.

Ilena stroked her raven hair, amending the damage that low-hanging branches had wreaked on it. The other girls had all lived up to her expectations, and she felt a sort of bond with each of them because of it. She was what, proud of them? For her however, the divination was serious. She presented her copious behind to a bathhouse that had been deemed safe by an adventurous friend, and waited. There was something exciting about it even to her. The bathhouse spirit was often loath to touch humans, and yet his touch could foretell so much. One had to pull all of the punches, so to speak, if one was to get him to come around. A warm, heavenly touch grazed over her bare buttocks, like liquid silk warmed over. It was more than just warm and soft, it was the best sensation she'd ever felt. The omen was amazingly good. The touch entered her and rubbed her inside and out hypnotically, bringing her to dripping, gasping ecstasy with its rhythm. Feverishly, she noted that the fire beneath the bathhouse was now running, and steam was rushing out to warm her cold ass. The sensual, warm water made her skin tingle, and seemed to get her wetter deep within. Few girls could truly drip, but Ilena was one. She overflowed upon the shaft of warmth that explored her. In a sudden trance, the witch-daughter turned around and entered the bathhouse. Warmth kissed her pale skin and the heat made her nipples tingle. A handsome young man, about her age by appearance, greeted her. His eyes were sea-grey, and his hair was white and wavy. The waves and spirals upon his head and shoulders were wild, wispy, and undulating, somewhere between water, mane, and vapor. He kissed her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her thighs resting against the "v" of his prominent hip-bones. The hot, misty touch that flooded into her depths foretold many a merry yule to the young wise-woman. The glitter of water was her only jewelry, and her only clothing as the bathhouse kissed every inch of her flushing skin. In the night the bannik whispered to her promises of magical gifts and of genuine adoration. He saw many girls in his abode, but rarely reached for one. The loveliness of the experience took the young lady by suprise, but she could not help but smile. She kissed back at the soothingly hot lips, halting his whisperings and promises. Her night was the best of all, and that is saying something. Christmas is a time for fun, as her friends had learned. Sometimes, it could be even more than that, although precisely how, she could not say. All Ilena knew was that bitterness had been relaced by something hot, very dear, and gently soothing to every fiber of her mind and body. The beauty of the night was ineffable, beyond the scope of Ilena's words- and that too is saying something.
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The Other Side of Folklore