5 comments/ 20810 views/ 0 favorites The Muse Ch. 01 By: HamSwift She found him through the internet. He'd enjoyed a distinguished career in publishing, writing scores of articles and essays for feature magazines before joining a respected publisher with a closet division devoted to erotica, where he became editor-in-chief. Through email exchanges and a phone call she conjured an image of a refined gentleman in a big office wearing a thousand dollar suit, an image that relaxed her after realizing what she was going to do. After setting the meeting, she went shopping for a new business suit of her own. Thinking he was a man of distinction, she took her time picking the perfect outfit, one that was refined as well as sexy. She settled on a midnight blue suit with a short pleated skirt from Saks. Almost as an afterthought, she stopped at La Perla on her way home. She parked her Mercedes out front, strolled the aisles of the lingerie store, ran her fingers over the silky camisoles and bras...all the while daydreaming about the plan that would make her husband the celebrated author she knew he deserved to be. Her husband was not a writer by trade. He was an entrepreneur. He had opened a single tanning salon many years ago and now owned a string of salons and health clubs across three states. He had acquired a considerable amount of wealth and was fortunate to have a trusted management team running his business. At forty-one, he was semi-retired, spending his time these days writing about the sexual adventures he and his wife had shared over their ten year marriage. His two completed novels and almost all of his stories featured her as their protagonist. From their earliest days she liked hearing of his desires and was eager to satisfy them. Doing what he asked excited her; knowing he was turned on by her willingness to please him excited her even more. By outward appearances, they were a normal, loving couple; but when he asked her to, she'd participate in whatever daring adventure his imagination would dream up. Being one who loved to write, his imagination was quite vivid. Before going out on the town she would ask, "How do you want me dressed, baby? What are you in the mood for tonight?" Just asking the questions, with all the intrigue the answers might imply, would make her wet with anticipation. Sometimes he'd pull a little black cocktail dress from her walk-in closet and suggest a string of pearls to accessorize it with. Sometimes he'd lay a leather miniskirt and bustier on their king-size bed and hand her nothing but thigh highs and a pair of stilettos. Little of what he'd written had seen the light of day. For him, the enjoyment was in the writing. It was a way to remember their adventures and a way to keep her motor purring. Reading of their past exploits made her wet for future ones, a fact not lost on him. It was she who pushed him to submit his stories to an erotica website they knew of. When he did so, the few stories he sent were well-received by tens of thousands of readers. When the accolades came, she encouraged him to peddle his two novels to publishers, though no matter how hard she pushed he never seemed interested to do so. At some point she realized she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She looked cute in her new suit while standing on the train platform. It was obvious from the glances she received from the male commuters waiting for the train. Her short-cropped jacket had little puffed sleeves and the pleated skirt sat high on her thigh. Under the coat was a pale gold camisole from La Perla and beneath the skirt a matching pale gold thong. She wore pale gold sandals and a pretty gold anklet. Just for fun, she'd slipped on a gold toe ring before leaving the house. After boarding the train she settled in for the half hour rumble to New York. Hoping it would relax her, she pulled one of her favorite stories from her brief case and began to read. It was a true account of a time she'd gone to a massage therapist to rid her of lower back pain. When she'd come home from her appointment she'd remarked to her husband that the masseuse had been cute and flirty with her. That was enough for her husband to set up another appointment for the following Saturday, even though she'd mentioned her pain had dissipated. While driving her to the therapist's office the following Saturday her husband reached over the emergency break of his BMW and slipped his hand under her miniskirt. He himself was tremendously excited, and he wanted to gauge hers as well. She'd been quiet in the car, knowing what she was being sent to do, and when his fingers snaked into her thong she held his arm against her and bit her lip. He smiled when he felt how dripping wet she was. As always, they were on the same page. A few minutes later, when he turned into the masseuse's parking lot, his fingers were still priming the pump. By now she was no less nervous, but even more wet. "I'm not sure I can go through with it, baby," she said. "Shhhh," he countered. "You're gushing with excitement. You'll be fine." He was always casual about these things and she loved that about him. "You're probably right," she agreed, and put her hand on the door handle. As she read on the train, she squirmed in the seat remembering how closely the story paralleled the reality of her visit. She'd been alone in the office with the masseuse only a few minutes, but she must have given a vibe, for she was on her knees before even a pretense of a massage. She worked him expertly, jerking him with her hand while sucking his big mushroom head into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the spongy crown, licked the tip, tasted his salty precome. Sucking him in deeper, she felt him tense. She stroked him more, suctioned her watery mouth tightly around him, got him even harder...then felt his come hit the roof of her mouth and ooze down her moany throat. She continued sucking, cleaning him until he began to deflate. He raised her and moved her to his leather couch, ready to return the favor. Her legs parted as she lay back, one foot on the floor, the other hiked over the back of the couch as he crouched in front of her. He pulled her thong to the side, watched her wet lips yawn awake while bending his head toward her. She had shaved completely that morning, as she had before every adventure, and when he licked her smooth lips she felt an added sensation of closeness. He slurped her into his mouth like an oyster from a shell, then lapped around her briny harbor with his tongue. When he moved up to her turgid pearl he found it pulsing with lust. He licked and nibbled and sucked it gently, making her come almost as quickly as she'd made him. As she quaked and shivered under him she held the man's head against her, then lay on the couch while the tension flooded from her body like low tide. She hoped their time was only beginning. She knew her body; she knew high tide wasn't far away. He let her pant for only a minute before pulling her up by the arms and flopping her rag doll body over the arm of the couch. He got behind her, kicked her feet apart and fucked her so hard from behind she could hardly breathe. She was in the masseuse's office for two hours. He used her as his own, sometimes gently, sometimes not, but always intensely. When she finally arrived home she was flushed and walking gingerly. Her bottom was burning from the firey red hand prints on it. She confided to her husband that she'd come so many times she'd lost count. Then she collapsed to her knees and sucked him while telling the story. By the time the train pulled into Grand Central she'd finished reading the story and was melty with desire. Luckily she didn't have to think too much as the editor had arranged for a car, which she found tremendously gentlemanly of him. She looked up at the starry-skied ceiling as she moved though the terminal, her high heels echoing on the marble floor. She trotted up a flight of stairs and emptied out a side door, then walked half a city block to where he said the car would be, at the corner of 42nd Street and Vanderbilt. A chauffeur with a driving cap tilted at a jaunty angle was leaning against the back door of a Lincoln Town Car as she approached. He tipped his cap and opened the door, then watched her new skirt ride up as she slid into the luxuriantly leathered back seat. She put her briefcase over her lap and got cozy in the seat as the car pulled from the curb. The driver glanced in the rearview several times but couldn't see her fingers moving under her briefcase. Driving through the bustle of the city she played with herself while replaying her visit with the masseuse, and thinking of the visit just ahead of her. When the Town Car stopped in front of a 6th Avenue skyscraper she pulled her hand from her seventy-five dollar thong and relaxed against the seat panting. Rubbing her slick fingers on the soft worn leather beside her, she tilted her head up and scanned the skyscraper, wondering which office was his. She was nervous. She was always nervous before these things. She'd been nervous the first time her husband introduced his fantasy to her, when he brought a stranger into their honeymoon suite and watched her make him come with her mouth; and she was nervous six months later when he sent her alone to the same stranger's Southampton mansion to "hostess" a poker party. She took a deep breath and climbed from the car, wondering if the editor might be too straight-laced for this type of adventure. He seemed suave and debonair on the phone, but maybe too above board for what she had in mind. When she entered the outer office a petite blonde with a tight top and tighter bottom directed her to a couch. She sat patiently on the couch, flipping through a hard copy anthology of erotic stories while the girl sat at a desk filing her nails. After ten minutes, the editor called and asked the receptionist to show in his guest. She straightened herself on the couch and snapped the book closed, knowing her husband should have been in it. The blonde girl smelled of lavender as she led the way to his office, her tight blouse puckering between the button holes, making diamond shapes as she moved. The editor met his guest at the door and led her in with an effortless flair. He had salt and pepper hair, rugged features and an athletic body draped in an Armani suit. He was almost as suave-looking as she'd imagined, which she took as a good omen. She looked beyond his stare, gazed at the book-lined shelves, noted the chrome and leather office furnishings, took in the panoramic view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk. He commented on her dark blue suit, calling her pleated mini skirt "fetching". She smiled to herself and said a quiet thank you, then took a seat in one of two leather chairs facing his desk. She slid one leg over the other and squeezed her gummy thighs together in an effort to relieve some of her desire. He looked on and smiled, her gold toe ring dangling before him like a lure. They were making small talk when the blonde girl entered with a tea service on a silver tray. After pouring, she left the tray on a side table and swiveled out of the room, leaving a scent of lavender in her wake. As they sipped, he talked ebulliently of her husband's writings. This surprised her, as the editor hadn't mentioned he'd known of her husband's work in any of their correspondences. When he asked point blank if she was the muse for his stories she lowered her eyes past her sandal to the floor. He sensed her shyness and kept questioning her. Was she the innocent bride in the Heather's Honeymoon series? The one whose husband coaxed to walk the crowded beach in see-thru lingerie? The one who let her husband bring another man into her honeymoon suite to make love to her? She swallowed hard while keeping her eyes lowered. "I'm not sure you'd call it making love," she whispered. Feeling himself spark to life, he took a sip of tea, his pinky extending as he held the tiny handle. Clinking the cup to its china saucer he asked about the ending of the Heather's Honeymoon series. Had her husband really sent her to hostess a men's poker party as the story suggested? Again she swallowed, and then whispered, "Yes." And then she began to offer details. The poker game was at a mansion in The Hamptons. She'd stayed a full weekend instead of the one night her husband had planned. There had been five men in the house, each with different needs, different desires. After several hours there, it was as if she'd gone into a trance. It all became a blur, but in the end, she'd met every need, every desire. She raised her head and met his stare, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. She wasn't ashamed; she was nervous and excited, and hoped he wasn't disapproving. When he smiled at her she relaxed, her bald pussy pulsing against her thong. She knew she'd do whatever it took to get her husband's novels published. The Muse Ch. 01 The Waters Wil waited by the water for her. She said she would be there just after the moon rose, and it had just minutes before. He stood by the water, the moonlight reflected in its surface. And he wanted her. A few more agonizing minutes passed and then he heard something and as he turned he saw the movement of a lithe figure coming towards the pool. She wore a white shift that almost glimmered in the moonlight. Her movements were smooth along the path, secure in her footsteps taken so many times in the past. Her platinum hair caught the moonlight as well and she looked like a Goddess, perhaps Aphrodite incarnate, as she glided through the moonlit glade. Not a word was spoken as she took Wil's hand and led him into the water. He wore only his under clothing and expected the water to be cold but it was warm and they moved across the shallows to the small waterfall at the pools back. Right in front of the waterfall were some moss covered rocks. She led him to them and motioned for him to sit. As he did so she stood in front of him, his back to the waterfall. He could feel the spray and it made him shiver slightly as goose bumps raised on his skin. But were they goose bumps from anticipation or from the spray? She nudged his knees apart with hers and stood between his legs. Her hands ran over his shoulders and to his hair and she pulled his head close to her body. Will rested it just below her breasts and she ran her fingers through his hair and then she moved, straddling his legs with hers and sitting down in his lap facing him. Her body was fit. Years of running and riding trimmed her and toned her. Wil ran his hands over her smooth skin and he leaned towards her and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer and he moved his lips to hers but did not touch them. They hovered that way for a moment, like two magnets pushing each other ever so slightly away until he tilted his head to the side slightly and she pulled him in. Their lips met and it was as if a small electric spark had gone off. She pulled him closer and he tasted her lips, giving her one little kiss after another, moving, and completely tasting her lips. Her fingers continued to play with his hair as Wil's hands ran over her smooth back. Feeling her, touching her, almost memorizing every curve and strand of her skin and muscles. She arched her back to his questing hands, pushing herself into him and she shifted her hips to bring herself even closer to him. Wil continued to kiss her and his hands, almost of their own volition, slid along and down her sides until his palms rested on her hips. His fingers wrapped around to the back and he pulled her in even closer. And then he felt it, her legs tightened around him and he could feel her heels at his back. His breathe quickened for a moment and she moaned, feeling how strongly he held her. Wil let out a small throaty noise in response. Her heart began to race as he ran the tip of his tongue over her upper lip. Hers teased him as he did this and he moved down to her neck as she shifted her hips to settle into his lap even further. Wil's hands slid up her sides and rested just below her armpits. His thumbs slowly sliding over her skin until they rest just below her breasts. She caught her breath as his thumbs worked their way up until the pads nestled on her nipples. Wil could feel them through the thin fabric and as he pressed, she moaned. Wil brought his lips to hers again and kissed her. She responded and kissed him deeply. Her hunger for him now starting to drive her actions. Wil pressed his thumbs against her nipples as he kissed her hard, his tongue tentatively searching for hers. She arched her back, wanting so much more and pressed her breasts into him. In response he slid his left hand around to her back to help support her as he used his right hand to undo the ties at the front of her shift between her breasts. All the while her hands felt the strong muscles of his back, her heart beating faster in anticipation. Wil tipped her back a little and pushed the fabric back from her left breast. He kissed her lips, her chin, down her throat and across her collar bone. One of her hands found the back of his head and yet she resisted the urge to pull him to her. He trailed kisses over her skin and she moaned again, wanting so much more than these kisses. He tipped her back a little further and she let her head fall back, the tips of her hair trailing in the water. He continued to rain kisses upon her and then he bit her gently on the breast, avoiding her nipple for now. He let out a little "Mmmmmmm." and then softly said "feels so good..." Her nipples were pert, her body responding to his touches and then she felt his breath on her left nipple. It tightened even more. He was so close and then she could not hold back and she pulled him to her. She let out a little sigh as his lips touched her, surrounding her nipple and then he sucked. It was like a jolt went through her and she felt a tightening deep within her. Wil rolled his head slightly in slow circles as he sucked, both hands now behind her back supporting her. The feelings were intense for her and her heart beat even faster. She rocked her hips slowly as he suckled and then he turned his head slightly, letting her nipple pop out of his mouth. He rested his cheek against her breast and she pushed against him, still running her fingers through his hair and moaning " I want you..." Wil could hear the beat of her heart, fast and steady. He moved his head and with his teeth uncovered her right breast. He kissed her left nipple again and then bit it gently. She caught her breath again and then he began to kiss her skin, from left nipple to right. Running her hands over his skin she pulled him to her again when he reached her right nipple. Pressing her breast against his lips. Her eyes were wide as she whispered "oh my God, you are making me so hot!" He sat up a little and pulled her back up, his lips searching for hers again. She moved her lips to his ear and whispered "I can't take much more of this." and he responded "Mmmmmm... You feel so wonderful darling." All she could do was nod and smile. Wil kissed her lightly again and she let her shift slide off her shoulders and into the water. Her breasts were firm and she pressed them against his chest as he nuzzled her neck and shoulder. She wanted him so bad. And his actions told her that he wanted her too... Both looked up and the faint glimmer of the pre-dawn started to cut across the sky. She stood and looked, first to the horizon and then to him. Could she chance the dawn? She was a child of the night and it was time for her to go. She looked wistfully at him and as he reached for her she sped away; Her diaphanous robes billowing after her as she moved through the glade. The Muse Ch. 01 Story contains soft/subtle domination, humiliation and submission. Later chapters explore these themes further. Enjoy! ***** The Springtime feast was underway and the atmosphere in King Godwin's court was jubilant. Hundreds of revelers ate, drank and danced in the Great Hall, while the sound of laughter and music rose to the rafters. Eudora, daughter to King Godwin, observed the festivities from his Majesty's table at the end of the Great Hall. It was all too familiar a sight for the princess: the drunken lechers clumsily pawing at the young, voluptuous women on the ballroom floor, the older noblemen of the court cheering them on and slapping their behinds in congratulations for their lewdness, the elderly women exchanging disapproving glances with one another... it was a scene of pure debauchery brought on by drink; a typical holiday evening of festivities in her father's court. Eudora had been attending these gatherings from a young age and it was always the same: a parade of gluttonous imbeciles. The only real pleasure she derived from these gatherings was listening to the heavenly music played by the court's musicians. Aside from the pleasant company of her handful of ladies-in-waiting, there was no other reason she could think of to stay past the end of the feast, except for those magnificent compositions pouring out of the musicians' instruments, flooding the hall. As she turned her attention to the court musicians, Eudora noticed an unfamiliar man among them. His head was bowed and his dark eyebrows were furrowed in intense concentration as he maneuvered the bow of his viol back and forth in slow, fluid motions. The locks of his dark, shiny hair were tousled as a result of the gentle rocking motion he made as he rhythmically stroked the viol, and when he raised his head at the end of the piece she noticed how angular and fine his face was. As he smoothed the hair back from his forehead with his free hand, his deep blue eyes did a quick scan of the hall before his gaze met Eudora's. Their eyes locked on each other for a brief, arresting moment before the musician broke away from her gaze and shyly lowered his head like a pup in submission. He nervously smoothed his hair back once more and stared fixedly at the notation on the music lectern in front of him - nearly burning a hole through it with his eyes - until the group commenced playing their next piece. He continued to stare at his notation with high intensity throughout the composition. Eudora continued to study him further, as she figured he couldn't possibly be aware she was still staring at him. She noticed his elegant, slender build, his long, sinewy legs framing either side of his viol, his delicate grasp on the bow, and how deftly he handled it in his beautifully long fingers, as though the bow were simply an extension of his lithe, graceful body. He appeared a good bit younger than the other musicians, and Eudora thought him to be roughly her own age. By the time the court musicians had played their last piece of the night, he had not looked up from his music lectern once. As the court musicians began to pack up their instruments and converse with one another, Eudora watched the young man from the corner of her eye. His attention was focused on one of the older musicians in his band, who was speaking very animatedly with his hands. The older man made a quick gesture with his hands and all of the musicians laughed boisterously in unison. They began to exit together through an arched doorway on the side of the hall, and Eudora admired him for one last time before he receded into the darkness. As she turned her eyes back to her ladies-in-waiting, Eudora noticed that a book and several stray papers remained on the lectern that the young man had been using throughout the evening. As the women made their way off the dais and across the floor of the hall, she picked up the book from the lectern. She told her ladies-in-waiting to go on without her and that she would catch up to them. Eudora saw there was a loose page peeking out from the book's edges. She opened the book to the page, which was adorned with a magnificently lifelike drawing of a buck. She noticed that most borders of the other pages in the booklet were adorned with impossibly detailed illustrations: a plethora of sketches of flora and fauna, mechanical-looking designs of strange and wondrous-looking musical instruments, and a hauntingly alluring woman drawn in a variety of poses and in varying states of undress. As she gazed upon another illustration of the woman, entirely nude and casting a "come hither" glance back over her shoulder, the young musician ran hurriedly back into the hall and stopped abruptly as soon as he saw his book in Eudora's hands. His jarring stop made such a thud on the floor that it echoed throughout the hall, and Eudora's head reflexively snapped up to see the young man standing on his toes, frozen in place in front of her, eyes wide and full of alarm. He stood as though suspended in air for a moment before quickly dropping to one knee and lowering his head to the ground. "Your Grace," he choked out with a waver in his voice. She looked down at the young man, and flipped to the book cover to search for a name. "Rafe Andrion de Beauchamp?" she asked the man. "Yes, Your Grace," he replied, staring at the ground in front of him. "You may rise." Rafe rose slowly, his deep blue eyes, sick with apprehension, reluctantly meeting hers. "I assume you have come for this?" Eudora asked, lifting the book slightly upwards. "Yes. Thank you, Your Grace," Rafe said, lowering his chin submissively, waiting for her to return the book to him. She made no such gesture and instead, turned the book over again to where she had last been admiring his illustrations. To his horror, she began flipping through the pages, examining each illustration in silence. As he watched her, he felt completely helpless and exposed, as though he were spread out naked on a physician's table awaiting an examination. "Rafe Andrion de Beauchamp... you are quite the skilled artist in addition to being an exceptional viol player," Eudora said, her eyes still busily studying his sketches. Rafe's cheeks immediately flushed scarlet. He smiled guardedly and looked down at the ground as he spoke. "Thank you most kindly for your praise, Your Grace... they are but crude sketches." She paused on another illustration of the woman and cocked her head. "Who is SHE?" "Your grace?" Rafe timidly raised his eyebrows and his eyes to meet hers, and felt a hard knot of fear rising in his throat. Eudora tilted her head to look at him. "Your lady... the one that you draw so adoringly." Rafe immediately felt as though the floor had begun to spin beneath him. He saw the edges of the hall begin to bleed black ink and terror gripped him as he became certain he was moments from passing out. He struggled with all of his strength to stay upright and keep a foothold in the waking world. Eudora saw the young man quickly turn pale and queasy looking. "Oh, that is quite a private matter isn't it? I meant no offense to you, or to your lady. I do hope you will forgive me my invasive inquiry and that your lady will not be affronted by my curious nature." She held out the book for him, and his hand reached out shakily to receive it. "I have taken no offense, Your Grace, none at all... she..." he stammered. "She is not my lady. It is simply that I - well, I - I have not made my affections known to her, Your Grace, and..." his voice trailed off. "Ah." Eudora smiled warmly. "You adore her from afar and would that her identity be kept private before you have summoned the courage to declare your affections to her." Rafe stood dumbfounded, but managed to choke out, "Yes, Your Grace... that is precisely it." Eudora nodded. "I see that she appears to wear garments not unlike those of my fellow noblewomen. Perhaps she was present at this evening's festivities?" Rafe's stomach dropped. He could not believe she had noticed such a minor detail in his sketches! It was totally out of the question to lie to a member of the royal family. He suddenly felt defeated and resigned to what he assumed would be his inevitable humiliation. "Yes, Your Grace. She was present." Rafe surrendered. Eudora's smile widened. "I see. I assume you know her name, yes?" "Yes, Your Grace. I do know her name." Rafe admitted. "So if you were to tell me her name, perhaps I could speak to her to see if she has any affections for you as well." Rafe inhaled deeply. "Your Grace, I would not deign to burden you with such trivial matters." Eudora continued on undeterred. "I would not reveal your affections to her of course, I would only speak most highly of you to gauge her response." "Your Grace, I have truly done nothing to deserve this kindness from you," Rafe said pleadingly, suddenly desperate for her to drop the matter. Eudora's interest was now piqued. She was perplexed by his polite refusal of her offer. Why would a young man like him want so much to keep his affections hidden from a lady he clearly fawned over, especially when she was willing to help him? "You will find a way to repay me, I have no doubt. She ought to know that she has inspired such adoration in you, don't you agree?" Rafe sighed and looked lost in thought. "Your Grace, I fear she is a lady quite... far beyond my reach. She is... very high born and I am... but a simple court musician." "Such divisions mean little to those who understand true affections. Perhaps your lady would see beyond your limitations?" Rafe's posture relaxed at her words, and he unconsciously gazed deeply into her eyes. "One can only hope, Your Grace." Eudora smiled mischievously at Rafe. "Let us find out then. Give me her name." Rafe hesitated for a moment, then acquiesced. "Very well, Your Grace. Might I write it down though? I am... uncertain of how one says it." "But of course." Rafe tore off a corner from one of his pages and retrieved a stylus and ink pot from one of the nearby lecterns. Rafe dipped the stylus lightly into the ink pot and began to write on the paper. When he was finished, he blew onto the ink and folded the paper in half. He handed Eudora the paper and said, "Your Grace, I must thank you most profoundly for your kindness. I will forever remember your generosity and most of all, I hope that you would not think ill of me." "Why ever would I think ill of you?" Eudora said with a twinkle in her eye. "I will send someone to deliver a message to you regarding your lady." He smiled graciously and bowed deferentially. "Thank you, Your Grace. A pleasant evening to you then, Your Grace," Rafe said with an air of finality. "And a pleasant evening to you as well sir." He slowly took two steps backward with his chin down, and the expression on his face suddenly changed to that of extreme caution and alertness, as though he were backing away carefully from a predator that might pounce upon him at any moment. The corners of his mouth turned briefly upward before he turned and jogged briskly through the arched doorway. She watched his figure fade into the shadows before unfolding the paper. As Eudora read the name on the paper, she felt her heart jump into her throat. The name he had written was "Eudora Caiperona de Welbe." The Muse Ch. 02 Do midsummer dreams come true? Wil wondered this as he walked through the quiet woodscape. It had been some time since he had seen her last but the time seemed right and the phase of the moon the same as when he had seen her last. As he walked he saw a light ahead., Firelight. He crept furtively towards it. Stopping every few steps to listen. The moon cast its glow down upon the woods and he had to move from tree to tree to keep to the shadows. It was full and bright. Wil saw a scene that excited him. She was dancing there around the fire with a number of other women, in various states of undress. As he watched, she saw him and smiled. She moved so sensuously and now started to dance for him. Her hips swayed in a very seductive manner and he was mesmerized by the movement. Her breasts were full, yet not too big, and the curve of her hips beckoned him to run his hands over them. As Wil let his mind wander she moved closer and closer to him until she was dancing right in front of him. She lifted her hands above her head and swayed in the moonlight. The shadows playing over her breasts. Wil's breathing quickened as he watched her. He took in the curve of her breasts, her perk nipples, and the gentle curve of her belly. She danced even closer now and looped her arms over his head pulling him in close and giving him a sensuous kiss. Her hips still swayed as she squatted slowly down, unbuttoning his shirt and then his pants as she moved. She slowly removed his clothing, not stopping her movement, her dancing. He was captivated by her and she began to rub her body against his as she moved erotically around him. Wil watched her and felt her smooth skin against him and then she moved back and raising a hand she motioned with her index finger for him to follow. She led him further into the woods away from the fire. The full moon cast silver rays down through the canopy and she stopped next to a small bubbling stream. The ground was covered with ferns and leaves and there was one spot near the water that looked almost to be a bed, soft moss covering it like a blanket. She pushed him softly down onto the moss. It was on a shallow slope and so Wil was able to recline back and watch her. She moved almost catlike and standing in a one moonbeam she danced again; moving oh so seductively. She got down on all fours and crawled slowly to him until she was between his knees. Turning, she nestled into his arms and he slid his hands around her, lingering on her belly for a moment. Wil reveled in the feel of her skin and he could smell her intoxicating scent. Wil began to kiss her on the neck, his head awhirl, and he spread his legs a little so she could settle down even more into his embrace. Trailing his right hand down over her hip and down her thigh, he felt the smooth skin again as he also snugged his other hand up under her right breast. She let her head rest on his chest as he felt her. A sigh then escaped her lips as Wil let his thumb slide up between her breasts as he cupped her. "Mmmmmm. Yessssss...." was all she said. She wanted him. Wil pressed the palm of his hand against her nipple, flexed his fingers slightly and then brought them back down and squeezed her breast lightly. As he started to massage her his right hand played over the front of her thigh and then slipped between her legs. She parted her legs slightly as he slid his hand up the inside of her thigh until he reached the top. He traced a line with his index finger along the crease where her leg meets her hip, then he closed his fingers together and slid his hand down over her pussy and lingered there. Wil pressed down with his middle finger until it slid between her pussy lips. He moved his hand up and down slightly, slipping his finger between her lips and then slowly inserted it into her. Agroan escaped her lips as he slowly pushed his way in and she brought a hand to his hand on her breast a pressed so he had to massage her breast harder. She was warm and moist and his finger slid in easily. Curling the tip he worked his finger around till he hit her G spot and it was like a jolt of electricity for her. She moaned again and pressed back into him. She could feel his hardness against her back as she tried to melt into him. Opening her legs wide she gave him full access to her sex. Wil pressed his palm against her clit as he cirlcled her G spot with his finger and slipped it in and out of her. His silk smooth lips kissed his finger as he slowly fucked her with it. She started to rock her hips slightly, pressing the small of her back against his manhood and now begging him "two please, use two!". Will obliged and turned his hand slightly so he could slip his middle and ring ringer into her. Keeping just the fingertips inside her he pressed his palm against her clit again and then he slid all the way into her, his index finger and pinky sliding along the creases on either side of her pussy where her legs came together. Sliding in and out his palm would bump her clit each time he was fully inside her. Her breathing quickened as he did this. Using her so nicely and giving her so much pleasure. A tingling began to start in the pit of her belly and he could tell she was starting to get close as her pussy tightened around his fingers. He then pushed in as far as he could and using his palm he massaged her clit. Passion enveloped her as she started to buck a little and then it hit her; Jolts of electricity flooding her body and making her cry out... "Oh God Yeeessssss!!!" She came over and over again as his palm continued to rotate against her. Finally spent she collapsed against him, her body shaking every so often as the after affect of her orgasm left her spent. Both looked as the night sky began to fade a little in the pre-dawn light. She slowly rose and stood over him and smiled. And then like before she disappeared into the darkness and away. The Muse Ch. 02 What were you thinking? You cannot even blame this on the drink - you were completely sober! Did you really think she would receive your affections without thinking you a fool? She would be right to think so! You ARE a fool! Rafe sat on his small bed with his head in his hands, berating himself and imagining the look of pity that must have registered on the Princess' face as he left the hall an hour ago. As he conjured up the image, his fingers clutched his hair on either side of his temple and he felt an overwhelming desire to rip it out, as though that would somehow tear out his shame at the root. He groaned at the realization that nothing he did would ever quell the shame he felt. He was nauseated that she now knew those drawings were of HER - those horribly shameful and vulgar drawings! Why did he ever put the stylus to paper and make real the images that swirled in his head when he was alone in bed at night?! Now, they were tangible things out there in the world... things that SHE saw and now knew about! They were incriminating proof of his ridiculous yearning... a craving so laughable, so feeble, so IDIOTIC... but God knew he could not help it! He had been admiring her from a distance for so many months and she had fast become the subject of his most private, lurid fantasies. He had allowed himself to indulge in them so often that it wasn't long before she had become the sole object of his desire, and he could not help but compare every woman he met to her. He had become completely disinterested in courting anyone, for his lust for her completely blinded him from seeing the virtues of any other woman that showed him interest. You are sick, and you have now revealed your sickness to her. You must leave this place at once, there's no recovering from the shame you have brought down upon yourself. Even if she takes pity on you - which is worse than her scorn - the humiliation of having to perform in front of her and her father, the King - let us not forget THAT! - and to even TRY to pretend you don't want her is too much to bear. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his chamber door. "Mister Rafe Andrion de Beauchamp?" said a man's voice on the other side of the door. "Is this the chamber of one Rafe Andrion de Beauchamp?" "Yes, one moment please." He leapt off his bed, hurriedly put on a dress shirt, and opened the door. "You are Rafe Andrion de Beauchamp?" asked a very well-dressed, rotund old man in his autumn years. "Yes Sir," Rafe said. "I am here to collect you for your scheduled music lesson for Princess Eudora," the old man stated matter-of-factly. Rafe was positive he had heard the man wrong. "I'm sorry, can you please repeat that Sir?" "Your appointment with Princess Eudora for her music lesson." The old man raised his eyebrows and lowered his head. Rafe did not understand, he hadn't made any appointments to tutor students in several weeks, and he had CERTAINLY not made any appointments to tutor HER. He felt his pulse quicken and panic begin to set in. The old man read the look of panic on the young man's face. "You DO remember having made this arrangement." It was not a question, but a statement... a warning. Something unspoken silently passed between the two men, and Rafe understood that his recollection was of no consequence. This was a royal request and one simply did NOT make the mistake of failing to fulfill the request of a member of the royal household. "Yes - yes, I do remember now. Allow me to... gather my lesson materials and I will come with you at once." Dread overcame him. Not knowing which instrument was even to be the subject of this purported lesson, Rafe grabbed a handful of books and instructional materials and shoved them into his rucksack, hoping that at least one of them would be appropriate for the task that lie ahead of him. Rafe closed his door behind him, and the old man escorted him to a horse and carriage waiting outside. The old man signaled to Rafe to climb aboard. Once seated, Rafe broke out into a sweat. He felt his stomach drop and he felt an overwhelming urge to flee into the nearby forest. But he could not. That would be a breach of contract... had he ever signed a contract, which he hadn't! He couldn't think straight with all of the blood pumping through his ears. It felt like seconds before they arrived at the castle gates. He exited the carriage and followed the old man down a dizzying labyrinth of halls. All told, he felt quite disoriented, physically and mentally. Before he knew where he was, the old man was knocking on a large door, saying, "Your Grace, your music tutor has arrived." "Thank you, you may enter," said a woman's voice on the other side of the door. The old man swiftly opened the door before Rafe felt composed and prepared to face her, but there she was, all of a sudden standing mere feet in front of him. He realized he was at the door of Eudora's private chambers. "Your Grace," Rafe exhaled, and knelt down on one knee, eyes fixed on her chamber floor. "You may leave us," Eudora said to the old man. He nodded and closed the door. Eudora stayed in place and let several moments pass by. Finally, she said, "You may rise." Rafe stood up slowly, afraid to meet her gaze. He continued to look at the floor until she spoke. "I have summoned you for a lesson," Eudora said flatly. "I hear you're among the best tutors in the kingdom." Rafe did not register her compliment and simply stated, "I am at your service, Your Grace." "Good. Shall we begin then? My harpsichord is over in this corner." She gestured toward the instrument and his eyes followed the motion of her hand. She walked over to the harpsichord and he followed behind her at a safe distance. She sat down upon the small bench, glanced over her right shoulder up at Rafe and patted the seat beside her, motioning for him to sit beside her on the bench. Rafe lowered his head and walked cautiously to his side of the bench. As he gingerly took his seat on the narrow bench, he caught Eudora's scent in the air. As it wafted into his nostrils, he felt his senses completely fog over and his body became warm and tingly all over. He blinked hard, inhaled quietly and attempted to steady himself, focusing on the keys in front of him, but his body... it had already begun to betray him. He felt her upper body rotate to face him, and he lowered his eyes before shyly peeking up to meet her gaze. Eudora's eyes were alive with fire and her lips formed a veiled, sinister half-smirk. She looked positively cunning. Rafe froze under her disarming stare, but his heart began to beat wildly, as if his ribcage contained a rabid animal attempting to thrash its way free. Eudora leaned her face in closer to his, and in nearly a whisper said, "That piece you played tonight, the one with that incredible, rising crescendo at the end of it... will you play that one for me? I'd love to hear it again so that I might learn to play it for myself." Her face was now the portrait of pure mischief. Rafe struggled to maintain his composure in spite of an incredibly overpowering urge to tilt his face down to meet hers, take her head in both of his hands and kiss her passionately with all the force he could muster. Rafe's face flushed scarlet and he unknowingly bit his lower lip gently. He nodded bashfully without breaking from her gaze. Eudora smiled. "Good. I want to watch you play it one more time to familiarize myself with." She stood up and faced Rafe and slowly passed between the harpsichord's keys and Rafe, her body inches away from his touch. Rafe felt his cock twitch at the very thought of it, and fought the urge to stare at her breasts as she passed by. She then took her place a nearby settee facing the harpsichord. She made herself comfortable by leaning on her side and fixing her gaze on Rafe. "Play," Eudora implored. Rafe inhaled sharply, clenched his jaw, and began playing the piece from memory. He played the opening notes of the piece and watched his own hands, normally so deft and sure of themselves, now trembling while he pressed the keys. Breathe, he thought to himself as he continued. He had never experienced performance anxiety quite like this before. As he continued to play the piece, he heard a small muffled noise emanate from where Eudora was. His eyes quickly flickered to the right and he caught sight of Eudora's index finger sliding out of her mouth, her eyes hungrily fixated on him. His breath caught and he froze with his fingertips on the keys, processing what was happening. He felt his cock pulse in his breeches. "Don't stop playing," she purred, a devilish smile on her lips. He glanced down quickly at the keys again, eyes wide, as though he had just seen something he wasn't meant to see and had to deny its existence. Suddenly, he felt his senses light on fire. And she was within an arm's reach, sucking on her finger. He closed his eyes and attempted to steady his breathing. Despite the dizzying array of sensations affecting him, he managed to pick up at the spot in the composition where he had left off. His mind, however, had just been completely derailed. Was she testing him or simply using him as an easy mark for her own amusement? He heard Eudora exhale softly. He blinked hard and could not resist glancing over to see what she was doing. Eudora had the many layers of her dress pulled up to her thighs, and her hand had disappeared somewhere under the folds of the fabric. With her eyes closed, she moaned quietly, and as Rafe watched her forearm move slightly up and down, he felt his cock stiffening. Rafe knew that she was touching herself, but he could not see where. It looked as though she was rubbing her clit from the movement of her wrist. He continued to watch her and in seconds, his cock became completely hard. His heart was already racing at a frenzied pace. He didn't realize he had stopped playing in order to watch her. His lips parted and his breathing became ragged. Eudora slowly opened her eyes and smiled knowingly at him. Still pleasuring herself, she said, "Don't stop playing." Hands shaking, he placed his fingers back on the keys and tried to pick it up again. He was watching himself fumble the notes when Eudora let out a loud, delicious moan of pleasure. He looked over to her again. Her head was thrown back to reveal her slender neck. Her mouth was open, and her forearm was at an angle that made it clear she had just entered herself. He watched captivated and as she thrust her fingers inside herself. Rafe felt his cock struggle against his breeches. His body surged with a catastrophic wave of frenzied, lustful urgency and he gripped the top lip of the harpsichord and placed his forehead on his arms to ride out the yearning that was overpowering him. He could think of nothing but fucking plunging into her with as much violent force as possible. He clutched the harpsichord and expelled a desperate, helpless groan that broke his voice as his knuckles turned white. "Don't stop... Raaaaaaafe..." she purred. Oh God. His hands were shaking badly. He put his hands over his face before placing them on the keys again. His playing was so clumsy that he stopped to try and gather himself before proceeding. Eudora groaned a long moan of pure ecstasy. Oh Godddddddd. He stopped, put his quaking hands on top of the harpsichord and buried his face in his arms. He closed his eyes and quietly whispered "fuck" to himself. In the darkness, he heard a succession of agonizing moans pour forth from Eudora. She was starting to get close. After a couple of torturous minutes, he could not withstand it any longer. His eyes peeked out from above his arms to watch her. She had lifted the ruffles up to her hips and her sex was now fully exposed to him. He could see her downy hair and her fingers thrusting slowly in and out of her glistening pussy. He allowed his nose to peek out from him arms, and her scent overwhelmed him at once. "Oh fuck," he whispered again desperately, his voice breaking, reflecting his need. His cock pulsed hungrily. He wanted to fucking devour her. He squirmed in place as her pleasure grew. "Raaafe - ahhhhhhhmm - come play -ahhhhahnnn," Eudora whimpered. Rafe cried out, "fuuu-uuuck!" He clutched the lip of the harpsichord so violently he thought he might crush it between his fingertips. He was beside himself with lust that raged through every muscle of his body. He wanted - needed - to run to her and fuck her with wild and reckless abandon, but she was a princess, it was high treason. "Raaaaaafeeee - AHHHHHHHHH - come play me... Rafe!" Eudora cried. Rafe shot up off the bench, unable to hold himself back any longer. He raced to the settee and was between Eudora's legs in a flash. He removed her hand, and inserted his middle inside of her hot, slick center. "OHHHHHHHHH!" Eudora gasped. His fingers were so much longer and thicker than her own. Rafe gently massaged the upper walls of her pussy with his finger and her muscles contracted in gratitude. "Moooorrrree," Eudora demanded. "More fingers." Rafe was now on top of her, his own cock inches away from the work he was doing on her with his hand. He inserted his ring finger inside her soaking wet opening and was rewarded with a loud, guttural moan and violent shudder from Eudora. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, guiding him into her, as he thrust his fingers inside her and massaged her inner walls slightly faster. The faster pace set Eudora off and she became completely unhinged and primal. She demanded, "Harder-FUCK! FASTER!! AHHHHH!" Rafe complied and as he fingered her with all the vigor he could, he felt his cock flare angrily. He wanted to ram his cock inside of her with everything he had and fucking thrust and thrust into her, over and over again and fuck her raw and - "AHHHHHHHAHHHHHH - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Eudora cried, muscles spasming and fiercely clutching Rafe's fingers. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" A flood of warm come poured out of her; wave by wave, soaking Rafe's hand and the settee underneath her. Rafe's eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation and power of her orgasm, and his body simply could not take it anymore. Rafe exploded his seed into his breeches and his body quaked violently as Eudora continued to clutch his fingers inside of her. More intense orgasmic waves washed over her and she moaned animalistically as more and more come flooded out of her, drenching Rafe's hand. Rafe spasmed again and moaned desperately before he felt his orgasm begin to subside. Eudora moaned one last time before she felt all the power drain from her body. She exhaled quietly and closed her eyes, savouring the feeling of being spent, and Rafe buried his face in the upholstery beside Eudora's neck. He said nothing, ashamed and embarrassed he had come without any stimulation from her. A moment of silence passed between them before Eudora whispered, "Did you come?" Still with his face buried, Rafe quietly replied, "Yes." He felt so completely humiliated, but he had gotten so aroused and when she began to come he could not help it. Eudora grinned to herself and gingerly placed her hand on his head. She stroked his hair gently. "My little lamb, that is nothing to feel bashful about." Rafe squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her sweet reassurance for several moments. Very slowly, he turned his head ever so slightly to peek out at her with a tentative look on his face. "I'm so embarrassed, that's never happened to me before," Rafe admitted. Eudora smiled softly at him and stroked his cheek. Rafe dreamily closed his eyes and basked in her affectionate touch. He wanted nothing more right now than to touch her face too, but he still needed her to tell him that it was okay to. "Do you know how much pleasure you gave me?" Eudora asked. Rafe smiled shyly and said, "Your pleasure is what set me off... the way you came - it was like nothing I've ever seen. It was... incredible." Eudora giggled. Rafe shook his head is disbelief. "I can't even believe that I'm with you right now," Rafe said softly. He gazed upon Eudora with pure adoration. Eudora smiled at Rafe tenderly and took his head in her hands... The Muse Ch. 03 Life Wil ran through the woods. His targe was badly damaged and he had but one more ball and powder to reload his blackwatch pistol. He ran with his sword out and the upper portion of his greatkilt pulled up over his shoulders. The light misting rain chilled him as he ran but he had to put as much distance between himself and the English soldiers behind him. He looked over his right shoulder as he sped along, Culloden was many miles behind but he had to put many more between before he could stop. His bonnet soaked, he peered out from the trees. He saw no one in the meadow before him and he had to cross it and the stream on the other side before he could afford any rest at all. He was lucky that he a small bit of bread and cheese. Most of the Scots at Culloden had gone without food. He used his dirk to cut a small piece of each to wolf down before taking one last look before sprinting across the meadow. The high pitched whine of the ball passing close by made him cut quickly to the side and start to zig zag across the field. Then he heard the report. He was a fair distance from the English. He easily cleared the stream with one long jump, reports of the English firelocks sounding off behind him. He would only have a short bit of woods to cross before he reached the base of the cairn. And then a mad dash up and over. Hopefully they did not have cavalry. Half way up the cairn he chanced one look back and they were only half way across the meadow. He had put a goodly distance between himself and the English. Now to cover the final distance to the other side and then off back towards the Hielands. How many days had it been? Three? Four? He wasn't sure. He had no food left now and was deathly tired. He had passed many burnt out farms. The men hung by the English. Things had not gone well for the Bonnie Prince. He wound his way down towards the forest below. The mountain mists were starting to clear and hopefully not too soon. He hoped to reach those woods without being seen. As he entered the woods, instead of clearing, the mists became heavier. He had seen these types of mists before. Years ago on a midsummer night. Wil walked furtively through the woods. The air was warmer now than it had been. He left his sword sheathed as he felt strangely at ease. Something was familiar abut the scene and then he smiled. Perhaps he had wandered upon a fey area and she might be there. The moon rose over the horizon as he made his way through the woods. He wandered until he ran across a familiar stream. He turned upstream and followed it. Pushing past some bushes he stopped. A figure lay on the ground a short distance ahead. But she looked like she belonged there. Her body reclined on a bed of moss and ferns. Unclothed. She looked at him and raising her right hand she beckoned him forward. He furtively went towards her, first taking off his baldric and dropping it with his broadsword. Next unbelting his plaidie and dropping it with his pistol on the ground. His jacket, bonnet and shirt was cast aside last. He stood there naked as the day he was born in front of her and she smiled. She parted her knees and placed the soles of her feet together opening herself to him and using both hands now she beckoned him to her. He quickly went forward, his passions beginning to build at the sight of her. Crouching down in front of her he crept to her and she sat up, taking his head between her hands she kissed him passionately. As she lay back down she drew him with her until he knelt between her legs. Her body was warm and soft. So soft. Her breasts full and her hips beckoned him to make love to her. As they kissed she reached down and took his manhood in her hands and stroked him. He groaned a bit at the feelings surging through him and he deepened the kiss. Her knees spread even further apart and she guided him to her. He pressed against her sex and a soft moan escaped from her lips. And then with a slight rock of his hips he was in. Her quim felt so wonderful. Tight around his cock and her wetness allowed him to slide in easily. Her hand slid up his sides until she took him by the head again and kissed him hard. His hips rocked of their own accord now and his manhood easily slid in and out of her. Pulling him completely down onto her she moaned into his lips as he made love to her. Her hips moved in tandem with his and both started to feel a tingling sensation throughout their bodies. Wil's passions were aflame and she whispered to him "take me!" Wil responded immediately to her and began to increase the intensity of his lovemaking. He thrust in hard and she rose each time to meet him. Suddenly she gripped his hair and her eyes went wide as she screamed out "Ooooooooohhhh!" and Wil could feel her start to tense. He was so close and knew he would spend himself in her soon. As her body began to buck Wil felt that he was about to explode. The sensations coursing through his body were almost overpowering as she orgasmed. Wil threw his head back as a flood washed over him. Slamming into her hard and grinding he flooded her with his seed. Her hips rolled and she ground herself against him as he filled her. Both using the other as wave after wave coursed through them. Wil collapsed fully onto her and as the moon began to set he fell asleep in her arms. The darkness deepened and he slumbered... Wil made his way into the village and to the back door of the blacksmith's. He had known the man for many years. Whisky was broken out and the Blacksmith asked Wil where he had hidden for the past year? "Year? I dinna ken wha' yer referrin to?" "Aye Lad, ye been gone fer a year." Wil shook his head and thanked the fates, and the fey muse, for what could now be a new life.