21 comments/ 49653 views/ 5 favorites The Reluctant P.I. By: leapyearguy The mechanical sounding voice on the other end of the phone call, was dull with a slight accent that I couldn't place, "Mr. Pearce, we need to come to an agreement on how you intend to make the balance on your account current." I'd heard it before, goddamn it, I hear it almost every month these days. Shit, it's getting hard for a semi honest detective to find work around this shitty little town. If I didn't need it so bad, I'd let 'em have that crappy car I drive. But you can't make a living as a P.I. on roller skates. With as much enthusiasm as I could muster at the time, "I'll tell you what, if you give me a week, I'm positive that we can straighten this out. I should have money in the bank by then, ok?" I lied through my teeth. You could bet your ass, that this guy hears the same line of shit ten times a day. Hell, I've said it so many times, that I'm starting to believe it myself. I feel bad for the guy, but I have my own fucking problems to deal with. He'll just have to take a spot in line with the rest of the people I owe money to. It wasn't always like this, I did my job, I risked my life, and after fifteen years on the force, my job as Detective Lieutenant was kicked out from under me. The shooting team knew I wasn't lying, but when you cross that line between the real world and politics somebody is going to go down. If I had shot some poor kid, they probably would have pinned a medal on my chest. When you deal with the rich and famous it's going to be swept under the table. The mayor's friends wanted me gone, wanted this all kept quiet, so I was fired. My report contained the facts and the truth. I had stopped at a little mom and pops on my way home. A fucking pack of cigarettes, that's all I wanted. I'd walked in on an armed robbery in progress, I pulled my weapon and he ran out the back. I pursued the perp, he fired two rounds at me. I took a stance, and identified myself as a police officer. He fired two more rounds at me, so I returned fire. One shot to the chest, and he went down for good. The dead punk was identified as the son of the richest man in town, the son of Richard Mast. The investigation team conveniently lost the one piece of evidence to would have cleared me. They all swore that there was no gun, did I see a muzzle flash coming out of his finger? I don't think so. The little prick didn't need the money, daddy was loaded. He lost his life for a thrill, and I lost mine doing my job. I was called to the chief's office, and given the choice of my job or my freedom. If I fought the firing, I'd be in jail today. I said a minute ago that I had lost my life that night. I lost my career, a job that paid me eighty some odd thousand a year. I lost my pension and benefits, but to top it all off I lost my family. That all added up to my life. My wife couldn't take the shame she felt, and within a month, she packed up, and left with our six-year-old daughter in tow. I guess she wasn't listening to the preacher, when he said for better or for worse. She pretty much cleaned me out in the divorce, and now she lived halfway across the country. I think you get the picture now. Paul Pearce the loser P. I., wrongly accused whipping boy of the elite. My work now, is mainly following errant spouses. I dig up the dirt on cheaters, and provide evidence for my clients. It's dull boring work, I hate it, but there aren't a lot of opportunities for someone with my past. Right now, I'm so broke that I would take a case finding an old lady's missing cat. "Achoo, sniff," fucking cold! I was almost afraid to answer my phone when it rang, probably another dun for money that I don't have. "Pearce here," I answered. "Paul, it's Jack, I've got a gig for you." Jack was a divorce lawyer that threw me a bone now and then, "Any money in it?" "Probably the usual five hundred." "I'll see you in five minutes, hack, sniff," fucking cold. I picked up the folder at Jack's, the usual shit, another dumb fuck husband that couldn't keep his dick tucked in. The asshole stays and works late twice a week, Wednesdays and Fridays, yeah right. I might be able to wrap this shit up tonight. I pulled into the parking lot of his office at quarter to five, nobody works late on Friday. There was Mr. Wonderful's black caddy sedan, at least he didn't leave early. Just as if I had planned it, he walked out the door at one minute after five. I followed him tight enough not to lose him, but not too tight. This shit is child's play, cheaters always think they are being smart. He pulled in to Louie's bar on Twelfth Street, and parked near the back door. While the asshole was inside, I noted the make, model, color and license plate number of all the other cars in the lot. I pulled out my Wal-Mart digital camera, and checked the batteries. "Hack, hack," a long pull on the cough syrup, and I waited for him to come out. Ten minutes later, a woman dressed way too nice for Louie's, came out and got into a little Beemer. I shot a couple of pictures of her, then loverboy exited the premises. They didn't even look to see if they were being watched, stupid fuckers. I followed them to a little No-tell motel about two miles away. She pulled in like she knew where she was going, he stopped at the office to check in. "Sniff," I might even be in time for happy hour at the Mill Bar and Grill at this rate. I snapped off a few jpegs, you can never have too many pictures. Fifty bucks will get you a lot of information at a dive like this. The clerk was happy to provide me with photocopies of the happy couple's past rendezvous. The statements were complete with credit card receipts, take note here, you should always pay cash. They were in a corner room, yep; the curtains were separated enough to get some good shots of the two of them doing the horizontal mambo. I went back to my piece of shit car, and took another slug of cough juice. All I had to do now, was wait and get some photos of them coming out of the same room. This was too easy, two hours work for five hundred smackers. "Sniff," fucking cold. Man, this cough syrup must be getting to me, I could swear my ex-wife just walked out of the room next to my target's. Fuck, it was Pam, I shot a few pictures. It couldn't be, she was with Richard Mast, the cocksucker that ruined my life. What the fuck was she doing back in town, and more to the point, what was she doing at this fleabag motel with him? Shit, I almost missed the pictures I had been waiting for. This shit with my ex-wife didn't add up, I mean, I didn't care so much about what she was doing, but who she was doing. Hell, we were divorced, I had no claim on her anymore. But Christ, he ruined her life too, or maybe not, it would seem. I needed something a whole lot stronger than Vicks 44 at the moment, maybe a little Jack Daniels cold remedy. I woke up the next morning with a nose full of snot, and a hangover worth committing suicide over. Fucking cold, fucking booze. I couldn't shake the feeling, that Pam had another reason to be in town besides a hard dick. But why should I give a shit, she wasn't my problem anymore. Later on in the day when my head quit pounding, the reality of what I saw finally hit me. No, I still didn't have any idea why Pam was fucking Mast, but there was money to be made here. Mast was a married man, his wife just might pay a hefty price to find out what Dickey boy is doing in his spare time. I might just satisfy my curiosity about Pam along the way. I was taking a huge risk by talking to Mask's wife, after all I had killed her son. Well, stepson to be more precise, Viviana Mask, was Richard Mask's second wife, a trophy wife if there ever was. I would need more than I had to convince Viv that Richard was cheating on her. Was this a smart move? Nobody ever accused me of that, but I had balls, and I wasn't afraid to use them. I started my tail on Mask, it's not hard to follow a Mercedes limo. What was I looking for? Nothing and everything, what I found was exactly nothing. I couldn't even get a line on Pam, she seemed to have vanished. She didn't have any contact with any of her friends while she was in town. I decided to go back to square one, the No-tell motel. The clerk was the same guy as before, fifty bucks later I found out that the room was rented in Pam's name. This was the first time she had been there, but it wouldn't be the last. She had made a reservation for the next week, another fifty bucks and the clerk guaranteed that she'd have the same room. He even gave me a key to look at the room, in five minutes the bugging devices were installed. "Hack! Hack! Achoo, sniff," fucking cold. I continued to shadow Mask, after a couple of boring days and nights, I hit pay dirt. He met a little blonde honey at the Marriott lounge downtown, I got some really great shots of the two of them kissing like long lost lovers. They were almost fucking in the booth they were in. It was secluded, but not from my prying eyes. They hit the elevator to the sixth floor, and I followed fast enough to catch them going into room 608. The way she had her tongue down his throat, I probably could have walked into the room with them without them noticing. It was a little after eight when they went into the room, and just after midnight when they left. I wondered why this Dick was confident enough to fuck this woman at a downtown hotel, and he took my ex to a shithole out in the sticks. I gave Viviana Mask a call the next morning. She had seemed intrigued that anyone would have business to discuss with her. The meeting would take place at the Mill, the bar I nearly lived at these days. I picked the place to make her feel more comfortable meeting me in public, and there would be little danger of anyone recognizing her there. I also knew she would be less likely to cause a scene if she had a problem with me being the one that killed her son. "Sniff." Viv is one of those women that make men drool, tall and lithe like a Vegas showgirl. She has the face of an angel, god, I would love to have a few hours with her. She had not recognized my name on the phone earlier, but the surprised look on her face told me she knew me now. I took her hand and led her to a table in the back so we could have a private conversation. "By the look on your face, you know who I am." "Yes, I was a little shocked. Did it show that badly?" "Well, Sort of. Would you care for a drink, some white wine perhaps?" "Double scotch, rocks, please," she said like she'd ordered a million of them. I called to Tom the bartender and ordered two. "I suppose you are wondering what brings us here?" "I take it that it's not the gourmet food." A little more comfortably I said, "Well, Mrs. Mask." "Please, call me Viviana, or Viv if you would like." "Viv, I have something delicate to discuss with you." "I suppose you caught Richard cheating on me." This woman was very cool, I got the impression she was playing me not the other way around. Trying not to sound foolish, I continued, "I take it this is not news to you?" "Not really, but I've never had any proof." "Would you like some?" "I might be interested." "Viv, forgive me if I seem, well, a little confused. You don't seem too alarmed at the fact that Richard is having an affair. And you don't even appear to mind sitting with the man that killed your stepson. I expected, uh, well, I didn't expect this." "Oh that, don't feel bad about that. Not even Richard feels much remorse over his son's death. He was a fuck up, a spoiled brat that got what he deserved." "What? He ruined my career and family life, and you tell me he isn't sorry his son was shot. I have a hard time swallowing that shit." "Paul, may I call you Paul? Richard was a lot more concerned at keeping things out of the papers, and keeping prying eyes away from his business affairs than his dead son. You were a cop, you have to know he is into a lot of things he wouldn't like to make public knowledge." The fact is I didn't know, but it made a lot more sense to me why I had been fired. Sweep the dirt under the carpet as soon as you can, and avoid the police investigation. A few well placed bribes and you could hide almost anything. If an honest cop goes on trial, and all manner of information could be uncovered accidentally. Mask would have at least come under scrutiny by the press, and that at times, could be far worse than a full-court press from the police. "Viv, why are you telling me all of this now?" "I like you, you asked, I didn't think that it was any real secret. Could you possibly get us another drink?" "Uh, sure. Tommy, two more," I signaled to him for another round. "Aren't you afraid that I will go to the police?" "Oh Paul, grow up. They already know about him, and I'd like to think someday that if he gets caught, that I could get away from the asshole. I signed a prenup and unless he goes to jail or gets killed, I get almost nothing." "I see your point." "Now, what about that evidence? How about if you meet me at the Hilton tomorrow at about one, and you can show me what you've got," she said, licking her lips seductively. Fuck, I told you I wasn't known exclusively for my brains. I have wondered a million times in the last year why things had played out like they did. I got the picture from the one source that I would never have asked. It was pure luck. So Mask isn't the upright citizen everybody thinks he is. What, I keep asking myself, what does this have to do with Pam. I let myself ponder on why. Pam was a good looking woman, but clearly not in the class of Viv, or that other bimbo he was banging. And she was surely no sexual dynamo, hell, she was close to being a prude. What could the owner of a small time import-export company, like Pam, do for a player like Mask? At Jack's office, I filled him in on the case he gave me last Friday. It was routine, I gave him the photos, and he cut me a check. I stopped and picked up some more NyQuil, goddamn, that shit is nasty. Fucking cold, fucking ex-wife. I needed some sleep. The next morning, my nose was plugged, my eyes were crusted over and the taste in my mouth, shit, it would have tasted better if I had kissed a dogs butt. I stood in the shower and steamed until I was functional again. About a gallon of coffee later, I was on my way to the Hilton. Let me describe for you exactly what I saw when I entered Viv's room. Imagine five inch black heels, a delicate ankle, perfectly formed calves. Muscular, but shapely thighs, incased in the sheerest silk stockings. The real deal, complete with the sexy black seam running from her heal up to the lacy tops, held taught with a black garter belt. Framed in the center of the garter, was the most perfect ass I had ever seen. Her skin was tanned a golden brown. A narrow waist radiated upward to her broad shoulders, thick black hair cascading down to the middle of her back. Viv turned to face me, her tits were pert, and standing proud on her chest. Nipples that looked hard enough to cut glass. Her stomach was toned and ripped from hours of exercise.Beneath her abs was a tiny landing strip of shortly trimmed bush leading to heaven. She was the total package, every man's fantasy. Words deserted me, but Viv knew what to do. Confidently strolling to me, and going directly to her knees without a sound. She worked with both hands, undoing my belt with one, and my zipper with the other. She attacked my hard cock, with a ferocity that I'd never imagined. Sucking me and laving the head like candy, stroking with her hands. Her tongue playfully lapping the veins of my shaft. Kissing and worshiping my swollen sack, pulling my balls alternately into her mouth and massaging them with her teeth ever so gently. With all of my will I held back, postponing the inevitable for as long as I could. When she took me down her throat, I could hold back no longer. Sending spurt after spurt of juice down her throat and in to her mouth. Viv was all I had ever dreamed of, a true goddess of sexual delight. I carried her to the bed, and indulged myself in all she had to offer. I pleasured her with my mouth and fingers, while I recovered my hardness. After the exquisite blow job, I would not cum so quickly when I entered her luscious pussy. I gave back to Viv as good as I got. Pounding her to exhaustion, orgasm after screaming orgasm. We laid together in each others arms, after hours of raw sexual release. "Paul, it certainly is a pleasure doing business with you.," she whispered into my ear. "Yeah well, we aim to please. But I guess the client doesn't always come first." "I'd really like to stay and get some more professional advice, but I have to run. Do you suppose I could make another appointment?" "I think we can arrange that, I would think that we can come up with something that would be mutually satisfying," I mocked. "Seriously Paul, I would like to see you again. Richard doesn't ever pay any attention to me anymore. You don't know how much today meant to me, I feel like a woman again." "He has to be an idiot to cheat on someone as beautiful and caring as you." "You said that you had some proof of that, did you bring it with you?" I went to my jacket, and got the envelope with the report and pictures. She put it into her bag, and pulled out two stacks of cash and brought them to me. "Viv, I know I'm stupid for saying this, but I won't take money from you." "Will you take it from Richard?" I couldn't fault her logic on that point. We dressed and I kissed her before she left, it was no sisterly kiss. I planted one on her that made her knees weak. Twenty thousand dollars, and sex with the beautiful Viviana, I'm almost starting to enjoy my job. I got caught up on my bills, and still had a good chunk of change left over in the bank. I did a few jobs for Jack as I waited for Pam to return to town. My fucking cold was still hanging in there, "sniff." I saw Viviana again on Tuesday, the sex was better if that was possible. I had to watch myself carefully, I could easily fall for a girl like her. Friday rolled around, and I considered going to the doctor for my cold, "sniff." Viv called and wanted to meet me that afternoon. I had never been that sorry about refusing anything in my whole life, but I needed to find out what Pam was up to. I tried to schedule another date with her, but she told me she would call when she was free again. I had no idea what time Pam would check in to the No-tell. I did my usual job, watch and wait. She drove into the motel at about three-thirty. I waited for Mask to show up, it could be a long wait. An hour later I saw two black Suburbans park on the street across from the motel, it was a little odd. I didn't have time to figure it out, Mask had just pulled in and went straight to Pam's room. I put on my headphones and listened, come on you fuckers talk. I wasn't sure what I would hear, maybe just two people fucking for an hour or two. With a crackle in my headset I heard Mask say, "Did you bring it? Is it all there?" He seemed excited like a kid at Christmas. "Yeah, it's all in there." "Well, open it up, I want to see it," I heard the zipper of a suitcase open. "It's beautiful, how much is there?" "Five million." "The quality is beautiful, I've never seen it better." "About that Richard, the Russian says he wants twenty cents on the dollar from now on. He told me to tell you that this would be the last shipment if you don't agree." "WHAT! Who the fuck do you think you are dealing with? I won't pay a penny over ten percent. Do you have any fucking idea what it takes to move this much counterfeit? You goddamn cunt, you're trying to rip me off." "NO! NO! I swear it, I'm just the go between." "You fucking bitch, I'll show you who decides what I pay!" The Reluctant P.I. "NO DON'T!" I heard a tearing sound, and a smack like someone had been slapped. Fuck, this was getting out of hand. I jumped from my car and ran the motel as fast as I could, I hit the door with a full head of steam. The door splintered, and Mask was standing over a nearly naked Pam trying to undo his pants. I rushed him and knocked him across the room on his ass. I tried to get Pam off the bed and out the door, but it was too late, he pulled a gun on me and told me not to move. "You fucking clown, you've interfered with me for the last time. You're a dead motherfucker now. I tried to let you live, I should have killed you after you shot my son. You just couldn't stay away, you tried to get my wife to divorce me. Hell, I paid you off on that one, it cost me twenty thousand and I even had Viviana fuck you to make sure you were out of the picture. But now you are going to die, you and your cunt ex-wife." I moved to protect Pam, and everything went into slow motion. I heard a shot, and my chest was on fire. As I fell to the bed I heard someone yell, "FBI FREEZE", and then a shot, and then four more shots from behind me. The pain was fading as I went into shock, but I heard the distinctive sound of a voice "CLEAR!". Pam was holding my head and crying, but telling me I would be ok. My world was slowing down and fading, Pam's face was all I could see, her voice was the only link to the real world. "Paul, I'm sorry, don't leave me... Paul, open your eyes. Get up, Paul please. PAUL! Do you hear me? You have to get up... GODDAMNED YOU PAUL! GET UP NOW! You're going to be late for work again. PAUL! Get your ass out of bed. You have that meeting with Richard this morning, you know, fer the IRS audit. Come on get moving, you're going to be late. Oh Christ, did you drink that whole bottle of NyQuil? You know what that stuff does to you. I need for you to take this Weight Watchers book to Richard, Viviana needs it. Her Doctor told her she had to lose eighty pounds. Paul, are you listening to me?" Fucking cold, "Hack, sniff." "Pam, would you get me some more NyQuil at the store today?" Shit I never got to fuck Viviana in the ass, maybe tonight. "Pam, get two bottles, ok?" The Reluctant Pair We've tried denying our attraction but we only delayed the inevitable. Should I ask for forgiveness or.....MORE? First thanks to everyone who provided feedback on my first audio. It is greatly appreciated. I'd love and value your input and reactions to this post. Enjoy... Sincerely, Alwayshungry4u * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (16 min/mp3) * * * * * The Reluctant Partygoer Part One ======== Sarah sat in her office staring at the calendar, an uncomfortable nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Today was the 4th of December: exactly two weeks until the event she had once been looking forward to, but was now dreading. Her colleagues in the offices of Morton, Grant & Partners seemed oblivious to her dilemma, and she kept her office door closed. The law firm that employed her was known to work its people hard, but it also rewarded them too, and the Partners took particular pride in the annual Christmas party. This year was to be no exception, the ballroom at the five star Lakeview Hotel the venue for a dinner and dance on the 18th. Sarah had loved the three previous parties she'd attended, but feared this year's would be awful. She played with her shoulder-length brunette hair whilst imagining the questions she'd get from everyone... why wasn't her fiancée with her at the Lakeview? Was he ill? Working? At another function? She tried to rehearse in her mind how she'd answer them. Sarah had met Marcus at law school. They'd managed to get jobs in the same city, and had moved in together soon after. Their relationship seemed to be going well, and everyone had said what a great couple they made - even her mother had liked him. So she was ecstatic when he'd proposed to her last February, on her 26th birthday. She'd dreamt about him last night, as she had often done during the weeks since he'd announced, without warning, that he was leaving. Sarah had woken at just after 3 o'clock this morning from that dream, the old t-shirt of Marcus's that she slept in ridden up around her waist, her left hand buried between her slender, pale legs. Just for an instant, as she lay there in her semi-conscious state, she'd almost convinced herself that the separation had been a dream, but reality soon took over. Unable to get back to sleep, she'd lain there staring at the ceiling, her eyes moist with tears. It still felt weird being alone in their bed, and Marcus was all she could think about, trying to understand why he'd left. Sarah had had a few boyfriends before he'd come along, but none of them really compared. Sure, he wasn't perfect, sometimes disappearing for nights out with his buddies, and his romantic gestures were rare. However, he was attentive and, as far as she was concerned, great in the bedroom. Sarah had loved that he had made sex about her, taking time to explore every inch of her skin, seeking out every pleasure point with his mouth or fingers. Of course he'd found the obvious ones, such as her small yet sensitive breasts or the sides of her neck. But it was the newly-discovered ones, like her ear lobes, or the backs of her knees, that sent little pulses of bliss coursing through her body. His exploration would go on for ages, until she had to almost beg Marcus to do the thing he did that was guaranteed to make her climax. He'd just grin and, as she lay back on the bed, she'd watch his face disappear between her legs. Again, he'd take his time - almost teasing her, his lips firstly kissing her inner thighs, each leg in turn, his mouth moving slowly upwards, leaving a moist trail. She'd run her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp whilst encouraging his head to move closer into her. Sensing her eagerness, his tongue would move on to the crevice between the top of her thigh and her mound, her neatly-trimmed hair brushing against his cheeks. Then his tongue would move across to explore the mound itself, the delicate folds of her labia by now glistening, Marcus breathing in her scent, but not yet tasting her. Invariably, and involuntarily, Sarah's thighs would squeeze against his head the instant his mouth found her slit, her moans increasing in frequency and volume as he started to kiss and lick. He'd known her body well, and soon he'd turn his attention to her engorged clitoris, her body squirming as he gently sucked, the tip of his tongue flicking against her. Then he'd move his upturned hand to beneath his chin, letting two fingers slip inside her, easily finding her special spot and massaging it with rapid, almost rough, movements. She never lasted long with that dual approach, and her body would begin to quiver and her face and chest become flushed as the orgasm claimed her. Sarah's thoughts were disturbed by her office door flying open as her assistant, Nikki, burst into the room. Sarah liked Nikki and confided in her; she was one of the few people she had told that Marcus was now living with some woman from his office. 'Don't forget your meeting with Litigation in five minutes,' Nikki said as she fussed around Sarah's desk. A long, boring case conference was the last thing that Sarah needed, but maybe it'd temporarily take her mind off him. Part Two ======== 'So Sarah, what do you think?' Sarah looked up, suddenly realising that she'd not been listening , preoccupied by her thoughts yet again. She fixed her eyes on James, her questioner. He was probably a couple of years older than Sarah, about six foot, trim rather than muscular, with piercing blue eyes and a crew cut that just added to his aura of smart efficiency. She'd seen him around the building and knew him to say hello to but, as he worked in a different department on a different floor, their paths rarely crossed. 'Well James, I think that's an idea worthy of further thought, leave it with me,' she replied, feeling her cheeks beginning to burn with embarrassment as the other seven pairs of eyes present at the case conference swiftly focussed on her. 'OK, maybe get back to me next week?' James said, a glimmer of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. Sarah just nodded and scribbled something on her pad, mortified that he knew she'd not been paying attention. As the meeting drew to a close, Sarah concentrated on gathering up her things so that her exit would be as swift as possible. She shuffled past a couple of people, heading straight for the door. 'Wait a second Sarah,' said a voice from behind her. Oh no, she thought, him again... did he want to gloat that he'd caught her out? 'Thanks for your input, I'm glad that's over - it sure is a dull case,' James continued, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Sarah smiled and murmured something incomprehensible in response, just wanting to get back to the sanctuary of her office. She hurried down the corridor, expecting him to disappear, but she realised with some alarm he was keeping pace with her and aiming for the same waiting elevator. They stood together in awkward silence, her jabbing at the buttons, both of them thinking of something to say. The elevator finally started to move. 'So, looking forward to Christmas?' James eventually blurted out. 'Um, well...' was all Sarah could say in response. 'Oh no, I'm sorry,' James said, his face reddening, realising his error. Does the whole building know, Sarah thought. 'I know it won't make you feel any better, but I'm in the same position,' he continued, 'I split up from my girlfriend in August... although at least we weren't engaged.' She looked up at him, startled by his insensitivity. 'Oh no, that didn't sound right at all,' James mumbled, 'I just meant that... well I meant that, that we weren't, um, too serious.' Sarah forced a smile. 'Well, I think I know what you meant, apology accepted.' 'Eh? But I didn't apologise,' he said, his face creasing in confusion. Then the penny dropped. 'But I think I should've - sorry Sarah.' Then they heard the sound they'd both been waiting for - the ping as the elevator doors opened. James stepped out, immediately turning around. 'Hey, I was thinking, maybe we could go to the Christmas party together? Unless you've got other plans, I mean. I hate going to those things on my own. Give me a call if you're interested.' Part Three ========== Sarah had already spent the best part of two hours getting ready... soaking in the bath, fixing her hair, then applying the little make-up she wore. Her dress was laid out ready on the bed. Yes, it was little and black, but the exquisite sequin detailing on the skirt would hopefully mark it out from all the others that would be at the Lakeview Hotel tonight. Its off the shoulder design meant she couldn't wear a bra with it, but her pert breasts would look good nevertheless. She focussed on them now as she stood in front of the full-length mirror, wearing only her black thong and hold-up stockings. Warily, she allowed her fingers to glide over her pale pink nipples, watching as they reacted immediately to her touch. Her hand then wandered onto her stomach, her skin feeling so soft and smooth. Resisting the temptation to let it drift further down, she reached across for her dress and stepped into it. The same question revolved around in her head: was she doing the right thing? Nikki, her ever-helpful assistant, had nagged her to call James after his surprising offer. She'd gone on about how Sarah shouldn't go to the party on her own, how quite a few of the girls in the firm fancied James, and how the 'date' (although Sarah subsequently banned her from using that term; 'arrangement' was the preferred word) would just be for a few hours. Secretly, Sarah found James kind of cute, although she didn't want the complication of another relationship anytime soon and, in an inexplicable way, she felt a pang of guilt about seeing other guys so soon after Marcus. However, she didn't want to go to the party alone so, with trepidation, she had contacted James a few days after their elevator encounter to accept, hoping her voice hadn't betrayed her uncertainty. Having finally finished getting ready, she sat in her kitchen nursing a glass of wine, her eyes constantly flicking up to the clock, hoping he wouldn't be late. At 6.59 pm, exactly one minute before the arranged pick-up time, her doorbell rang. She finished her wine with a gulp and rushed to open the door. 'Hi Ja... what the hell?' She was confronted by a huge bunch of red roses. 'Like them?' James said, his smiling face appearing over the top of the foliage. 'Wow, you really didn't have to, but they're lovely... thanks. Why don't I put them in some water?' 'Well,' James replied, the smile suddenly dropping from his face, 'I was rather hoping you'd carry them into the party with you, show them off to all your friends.' 'Um, they're lovely, but really, you think I should take them with us?' Sarah asked, looking hopefully at him, trying desperately not cause offence. 'Sarah, relax!' he said, his hurt expression cracking into laughter. 'You don't really think I expected you to cart them around with you all night? Unless you want to try to sell a flower to each couple we come across?' he said, winking at her. 'Oh, and you might want to put this in the refrigerator,' he added, producing a bottle of champagne from behind his back. As she took his gifts, she caught sight of him properly for the first time. He always made a point of looking smart at work, but tonight he seemed to have made an extra effort: his tuxedo neatly pressed, his shoes gleaming, his shirt creaseless. She had to admit to herself, Marcus had never brushed up so well. But she also had to remind herself that this wasn't a date. James escorted her out to the taxi, waiting for them in the chilly darkness. They passed the journey chatting, both of them perhaps being a little guarded. The floodlit Lakeview Hotel looked impressive as they arrived. James took Sarah's arm in his as they walked into the ballroom, the beautifully dressed dinner tables surrounding a large dance floor. They circulated amongst the crowd for a while, exchanging pleasantries, trying to remember everyone's names. Sarah was starting to relax, her fear that people would quiz her about Marcus seemingly unfounded. She suspected that her situation was already a lot more well-known than she had thought, and almost everyone was too tactful to mention it. Those that were too inebriated to be tactful just seemed to assume James was Marcus. Dinner passed quickly, followed by a long, predictably un-amusing speech by the Managing Partner. Then the band started up, a few brave couples immediately heading for the dance floor. 'Well, come on then,' James said, standing to his feet and taking her hand, 'let's show them how it's done.' 'Really?' Sarah beamed. She loved dancing, but Marcus certainly hadn't. He'd always claimed some kind of sporting injury when she'd tried to coax him onto a dance floor, an excuse that would've been plausible had his only sporting activity not been video games. Maybe it was partly the effect of the copious wine, but Sarah felt comfortable with James. She'd thought they'd drift apart during the course of the evening. After all, there was no real obligation for them to stick together. However, to her surprise, they seemed to really enjoy each other's company, and they made frequent visits to the dance floor together. It was during the last of these visits that the tempo of the music suddenly slowed, signifying that the evening was coming to an end. Several couples hastened off the dance floor, clearly not wanting to get too close to each other. Sarah turned to follow them off, but James gently pulled her back towards him. 'Where are you going?' he asked, smiling. 'Um, well it's the slow dances... I didn't think you'd want to.' 'Nothing else I'd rather be doing, if you'd do me the honour.' She smiled back at him, their eyes meeting. They stumbled around awkwardly at first but soon found a rhythm, their arms wrapped around each other, her face resting against his shoulder. They had been dancing for a couple of songs when it happened. Sarah wasn't sure initially, but all her attention was immediately focussed on it. Undoubtedly, she could feel something brushing against her stomach as they moved, a bulge growing uncontrollably in the area of James' crotch. Sarah thought she should move away just a little. She didn't want to embarrass James, and perhaps he didn't realise his growing erection was making contact with her. But maybe she left it too long to act. Clearly James was aware of the contact, and he seemingly took her hesitation as a signal that she liked it. To Sarah's astonishment, he moved his body even closer. There was now no doubt what she was feeling against her, but she was excited that she could have this effect on him. Her nipples stiffened in response inside her dress, although Sarah knew the thick fabric covering them would sadly prevent James from feeling them against his chest. Part Four ========= They didn't say much in the taxi back to Sarah's place, but they certainly sat closer to each other than they had on the way to the party. Sarah's brain was whirring as she tried to figure out what was happening between them. Clearly, their 'arrangement' had morphed into a 'date', and she hadn't had such a good time since Marcus had left. Marcus... she realised that she hadn't thought about him all night, and any mistaken guilt she had felt about being with another guy had dissolved away. She anticipated a nice long goodnight kiss on her doorstep, and she hoped James would oblige. But maybe she desired more than that? She was never a girl to go far on a first date, but the dull longing inside her reminded her of her enforced period of chastity. It was true that she'd missed sex since Marcus had left, and masturbation had been an infrequent and unsatisfactory substitute. 'I imagine that bottle of champagne will be nice and cold now,' James said, looking across at her as the taxi pulled up. It was as if he was reading her mind, or at least thinking the same thing. 'I don't know, maybe we'd better try it,' Sarah smiled back. However, they didn't even have time to get the bottle from the refrigerator. As soon as Sarah's front door was closed behind them, James pushed her up against the wall, his lips quickly finding hers, their tongues greedily probing each others' mouths. They shuffled along the small, narrow hallway, their mouths not parting, Sarah guiding them towards an ajar door. She pulled him through it, into her bedroom, any feelings of inhibition fading. He held her close, his lips moving downwards to kiss the side of her neck, his hands already seeking out the zip that secured her dress. He swiftly undid it, crouching as he slid the dress down over her hips. Sarah was suddenly conscious that his face was now level with her chest. He looked up at her as he began to fondle her breasts, shyly moving his mouth towards them. She let out a muted gasp as his lips found her left nipple, firstly kissing it, then eagerly sucking and nibbling as it grew stiff in his mouth. It had been too long since someone had touched her like this, and she cradled his head in her hands as his attention began to alternate between her breasts. Sarah grinned at him when, eventually, he straightened up in front of her. 'You're a bit overdressed, aren't you?' she said, running her fingers along the lapel of his tuxedo. 'Well, maybe I need some help?' was his response, an invitation that Sarah readily accepted. Together, they quickly removed his tuxedo, trousers and bow tie, and Sarah's fingers worked down his shirt buttons, exposing his lean torso, leaving him standing in just his boxer shorts. He took her hand in his, guiding it towards the obvious swelling in his shorts, then slowly rubbing her hand along it. Sarah responded instantly, her fingers gripping him lightly through the cotton. Without saying a word, she sank to her knees, keen to explore what lay beneath the white material. Her hands grasped his shorts and tugged them down, his hard cock springing up as the waistband passed over it. She eyed his shaft for a few seconds, before taking it in her hand. Cautiously, she let her fingers move along it, as if reminding herself of the feel, a groan escaping from James as her hold tightened. Sarah let her tongue graze against it, permitting herself the briefest taste, before caving into temptation and taking his cock head between her lips. He ran his fingers through her hair as she took him further into her mouth, her hand still working along his remaining length. After several minutes, she felt his hands move from her head to her shoulders, a gentle pressure from James encouraging her to get up. Reluctantly, she let his cock part from her lips as she stood. 'That was incredible Sarah... maybe too good, I want to last a little longer!' he said with a broad grin on his face. She giggled at his veiled compliment, before turning from him and stepping away. Sarah pulled her thong off, playfully wiggling her smooth, pale buttocks at him before climbing onto the bed. She immediately got on all fours, looking back expectantly over her shoulder at him. He manoeuvred himself so that he was kneeling behind her, his knees between hers. Sarah twitched as she felt his cock brushing against her moist, ready lips. He soon found her hole, and tenderly began to slide himself into her. She pushed herself back towards him, moaning quietly as his length filled her. His hands took hold of her hips as he started to thrust; slow short movements at first, but soon becoming more urgent. Sarah's head hung down as the rhythm increased, his lunges getting faster, harder and deeper. She began to feel the waves of pleasure spreading out from between her legs across her body. Sarah almost buckled when his right hand reached around her, finding her clitoris. He rubbed her there with a small, circular motion whilst continuing to pound her, and she knew she couldn't last much longer. Her vaginal muscles tightened and released their grip on his cock with increasing strength and frequency, trying to draw James towards climax with her. The Reluctant Partygoer Her moans grew louder and her breathing became heavier as Sarah felt the orgasm build inside her, her hands tightly gripping the pillows in front of her. As her body began to spasm, she heard James' guttural grunts, and felt his final urgent thrusts within her. On his last push she felt his creamy fluid shoot deep inside her, just as a sensation of ecstasy flooded her body. They collapsed together, his arms holding her tight against him. Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a bad Christmas after all, Sarah thought to herself, still in the afterglow of her orgasm. She soon felt herself drifting off into a peaceful sleep. It would be the first night in a long time that thoughts of Marcus didn't disturb her dreams. The Reluctant Princess In a dusty display cabinet in a dusty neglected museum deep in East Prussia is a giant bronze cock. Well bronze coloured, it is actually cast iron with bronze gilding. Its head is fearsome. Its eye seems to follow you around the room and its wings are so exquisitely formed you would almost think it could fly. A giant cock, and why was it made? A simple mistake, but behind it a story of a simple girl who preferred pigs to princes, a heart warming feel good story and so I have translated the words from the original Germanic into English for your delectation. The Reluctant Princess. (Greta and Prince Armen) a.broadsword mmxiii ==================================== The morning light streamed across the bed chamber as Prince Armen woke. "Good morning your highness," Greta his chambermaid chirped when she was sure he was awake. "Uggghhhh," he replied, "My head!" he said while staring at the girl and trying to remember the previous night's party. Greta was slim and agile with beautiful long blonde hair plaited into two pony tails. Once his chambermaids were fat and ugly as his mother feared he would force himself upon them but now as she feared he would never desire a woman she had sought the most beautiful serving girl in the whole kingdom. "Your father wishes to see you sire," she chirped. "Tell him to," Armen snapped. "Now sire," Greta cautioned, "He merely wishes you to choose a wife." "But I am in love!" Armen protested. "But Edward is not a girl, is he sire?" she pointed out. Armen shook his head, how unfair, he reasoned. "What am I to do?" he asked. "Well you could," Greta said, "Be like Cinderella." "What, put on a funny dress and wear glass slippers?" he asked. "No," she said, "Tell your father you met a girl at the masked ball last night and she rushed away but left." "Her glass slipper, she wore glass slippers and went home without one, really!" he countered, "Limping along wearing one shoe, I don't think so.". "No, her dildo!" she laughed. "What?" he queried. "Her glass dildo!" Greta repeated, "You know." "No, to be quite honest," he replied, "I don't know." "A glass dildo, a widow's comforter." she said with an evil grin. "So all these girls?" he asked. "Exactly!" Greta exclaimed. "So?" he asked. "See who claims it and then," she suggested, "Make them show you if it fits!" "What make them push it!" he asked. "Exactly!" Greta exclaimed, "It will be so funny! You could have every girl in the kingdom try it!" she laughed. "Why?" he asked. "Because," she said enigmatically, "We use the cock off the statue in the courtyard as a pattern!" "But it's enormous!" he said. "Ten times you own size," she volunteered. "Twice perhaps," he allowed. "And there won't be a single girl or woman who can take it!" Greta laughed. "And your point is?" he asked. "Keep it up long enough and you will be king and can simply choose to alter the law so you can marry Edward!" she explained. "But Edward will take it up the back easily so I may marry Edward straight away," Armen declared delightedly, "Oh Greta you are so clever!" Greta glared, that was not her plan at all, "Yes!" she said, "Wonderful, your father wants you." The Queen waited for Armen to leave his room before she sought out Greta, "Did it work?" she asked. "Yes and no," Greta said, "Yes he swallowed the plan, but no, he doesn't want to stop with girls." "Oh god," the Queen cursed, "You said the plan was foolproof." "But your son is a bigger fool than I thought possible," Greta said sadly. "You are very impertinent girl," the Queen insisted. "No Ma'am, your son is very stupid." Greta sighed. "Then you will have to marry him," the Queen insisted. "Oh please no," Greta pleaded, "It's bad enough being his maid." "My dear, you just have to bear him a son or two, nothing onerous." the Queen explained, "Separate rooms, a footman for a lover, why you need barely set eyes upon him. "No," Greta insisted, "No!" "Very well then," the Queen agreed, "I'll have the blacksmith make a brass copy of the statue's cock." The Queen swept from the room and Greta was left alone in Armen's room. She kicked a few garments around the floor flicked a cobweb or two and then sat on the bed. The bed was nice and soft so she slid under the covers, and before she knew it she felt nice and safe and warm and her hand stole under her gown and she began to gently finger her tight virgin vagina until she felt lovely and moist and was able to thrust one two and then three fingers inside herself which was particularly stupid if she wanted to prove she was a virgin for any reason. Suddenly she heard voices, Armen and Edward were outside the door, quickly she rushed from the bed and busied herself. "Ah maid, make haste, we wish to be alone." Prince Armen commanded. "Begging your pardon sir but the Queen she did order me to stay no matter what," Greta lied. "Oh stay then," he snorted, "Stand in the corner and face the wall." "The Queen says," Greta lied again. "Bugger the Queen!" Armen laughed. "That's incest old chap!" Edward laughed. "Hilarious," Greta agreed. "Where did you learn such words?" Edward asked. "Here and there," Greta admitted. "Well keep them to yourself!" Edward insisted, but he was too late, the Queen had returned. "Ah, downstairs Armen if you please your father wishes an audience," she insisted. They left Greta alone again, and she sat moodily on the chair wondering whether she should escape at night or try it in daylight on market day when it was very busy. Nearly a week went by, and the Queen sent word that the bronze cock was ready and Greta was to collect it. Greta knew instantly something was wrong, it was wrapped in parchment but was impossibly large. "Its got wings!" she said as the blacksmith proudly showed it to her, "You stupid oaf its a Chicken!" "As ordered," he said, "A bronze cock." "She wanted a bronze cock," Greta sighed, "Not a bronze cockerel!" "Should have said," the blacksmith replied. "Are you the most stupid blacksmith that ever lived?" she asked. "There's one over in Dusseldorf what's even stupider," the blacksmiths apprentice said suddenly as he dodged the blacksmith's backhand slap. "Oh for heaven's sake she wanted a dildo!" Greta sighed. "Oh we got loads of they," said the blacksmith, "What size?" he asked and he undid his breeches, "Like mine or smaller?" Greta stared, it must have been six inches long and grey. "Bigger," she said confidently. "Try a number three," he said and the apprentice went off and came back with an iron penis. "Only got in in Value Brand," the apprentice said, "That's iron see, standard is bronze then there's" "Thank you," the blacksmith agreed, "Will Iron do, would you like to try it?" "No thank you," Greta said. "You can have the silver for the same price if you let us watch you try it." the blacksmith suggested proving he wasn't entirely stupid. "No!" Greta insisted. "Half price, two for one," the blacksmith offered. "Oh very well," Greta agreed, "Where can I hang my smock?" Greta slipped her smock over her head leaving herself entirely bare except her sandals, her small but exquisite tits standing out proudly on her slim torso, the faint covering of downy golden hair hiding nothing of her perfect cunt lips. "Bollocks," said the blacksmith, "I cum in me pants." Poor Greta, no matter how hard she tried she just could not get her cunt lips around the silver shaft, they even got some of the militia from the Inn to make suggestions, as to what she should do, a passing delivery driver, a tramp, several monks en route to the monastery, a butcher, a baker, a watch and clock maker, all squeezed into the workshop where Greta struggled to shove the silver dildo up. The drummer from the Militia arrived to play a drum roll every time she tried, the apprentice cleared the room and then let people back in if they paid a pfennig and poor Greta strained away trying everything she knew. "I cannot!" she said finally after nearly twenty hours of exertion. "Fetch a number two lad," said the blacksmith who was not as stupid as he looked, "Bronze." The apprentice handed it to Greta, she lay back on the filthy workbench and eased the bulbous head of the very ordinary dildo between her cunt lips. "It fits!" the apprentice cried and a great cheer went up. "Why didn't you suggest that in the first place?" Greta asked. "Uh?" said the blacksmith who wasn't stupid at all but was a whole lot richer from the nights takings. The crowd filed away leaving an empty workshop with blobs of cum over the floor and benches to show where filthy peasants had been wanking. "You can have two number twos for price of one lass." the blacksmith said helpfully, "One silver and one bronze if you help clear up all that cum." "I'm not licking up all that cum!" Greta insisted as she went to put her smock on. The blacksmith wobbled and crashed to the floor as his knees gave way. "He's had a heart attack!" Greta cried. "He just cum in his pants again," the apprentice explained. "I meant with a mop," the blacksmith cried, "I reckon me cock split I cum so hard." Greta cleared the cum, scooping it into a glass jar to use as glue if there wasn't a bull handy, and then with a cheery smile she wobbled back to the palace clutching two metal dildoes. The queen was not amused, "You stay out all night and then come back with this, this, this tiddler!" "Sorry," Great said, "But I couldn't get the number three up, and it was two for one and." "And what?" the Queen asked. "I didn't want to disappoint all the men who paid to watch," Greta confessed. "It gets worse," the Queen sighed, "He wet the bed again." "Sorry," Greta apologised. "I told you," the Queen said, "Four strikes of the clock wake him and relieve him." "I won't do it again," Greta said. "But you are supposed to do it you stupid girl!" the Queen sighed, "Like getting glue from a bull, as it is the sheets are all stuck together and we may have to wash them!" "Sorry, OK," Greta snapped, "Let him marry his boyfriend why don't you, then we'll see who wears the trousers." Greta looked at the Queen and the Queen at Greta, "Who wears the dress?" Greta asked rhetorically. Prince Armen was in a foul mood, he was playing cards with his friends when the Queen approached with Greta close behind, "Where were you in my hour of need?" he demanded. "Out," Greta replied angrily. "I woke in a like of my own fluids girl, it is not good enough!" Armen said as his friends sniggered. "Twenty and eight years and he wets the bed," Greta sighed and his friends laughed out loud. "Do you delight in humiliating me wench?" he asked. Greta thought hard, actually she did, "Yes," she agreed. "Well I shall delight in torturing you at my wedding celebration!" he snapped. "No more four o'clocks," Greta threatened. "Edward will oblige," Armen insisted. "Sire?" asked Herr Landsdorf head of palace security, "Is Edward, ah, bent?" "Indeed and we shall be married!" Armen insisted. "Now hang on Armie!" Edward protested, "We're just chums." "But when you have you cock lopped off," Armen reminded him. "Now hang on, you are wearing the dress, I shall be king!" Edward exclaimed. "No way!" Armen cried and Greta and the Queen slipped away. Armen and Edward rowed late into the night and were still rowing at four o'clock when Greta came to find them to relieve Armen. They sat in two easy chairs in the study facing each other so Greta knelt between them.Edward watched horror struck as Greta extracted Armen's cock from his breeches and started stroking it, it stiffened instantly. "Armen!" Edward protested. "Oh very well, do his too," Armen sighed so Greta fumbled his breeches and extracted his turgid grey cock. "Yuck!" Greta exclaimed, "Sod that I would rather hang," she said and she stood up and walked off. "Stop," Armen cried as he waddled after her with breeches at half mast and his rigid cock gyrating madly, and as Greta out ran him he turned to Edward saying, "Now look what you have done!" Armen woke in an armchair, his back hurt, he was angry, and then his father appeared, "Big day my son." he said. "What?" Armen queried. "Test day for the silver dildo," the King announced, "There's a queue a twenty yards long outside the palace." "What silver dildo?" Armen asked with a sense of dread. "The one your mother has been on about for weeks, anyway there's a queue a hundred yards long at the main gate." "You said twenty," Armen challenged. "Twenty wenches, but a couple of hundred spectators at a pfenning a throw," The King explained, "Plus we have ale and knackwurst in a bread roll, and chicken nuggets." "I shall not be part of this!" Armen insisted. "They have come to see fresh cunt not your stupid face," the King sighed, "You better get your friend Edward in line if you want to marry him." Edward was indeed in line, dressed in a fetching pink smock with his cock taped to his belly with candle wax soaked bandages he waited to have a bronze rammed up his rectum. The central courtyard was packed with people as the first woman stepped forward, not a noblewoman, nor a princess as some had hoped but a common prostitute. Ellie A seat with footsteps was arranged on stage to reveal in as much detail as possible of the insertion and with a drum roll Ellie raised her smock to her chin revealing her nakedness and Herr Lansdorf took the dildo and without ceremony thrust it deep inside Ellie, so deep in fact that it twisted slightly and he lost his grip as he struggled to get it back out. "It fits!" Ellie protested. "Like a prick in a washing tub!" some wag insisted. The castle erupted into raucous laughter, "You said it were a big one!" Ellie protested as Lansdorf took off his glove to push his whole hand past her black hairy belly to disappear inside her cavernous cunt to seek out the dildo, "I been shoving a table leg up because they said it was a big one!" she protested to raucous laughter. The King laughed, the ale was selling well and they had two poachers to hang in the interval and all in all things were going well. "I don't think so," Lansdorf shouted, "Next." Griselda tried next, she worked in the same whore house as Ellie an she too had been practising using a leg off the big table in the waiting room, predictably as she bared her charms the dildo disappeared inside her, "Without even touching the sides." "I don't think so," Herr Lansdorf adjudged, "Next!" Next was Mathilda, then Chloe then Yvette, poor Lansdorf was getting tired of manipulating lost dildoes, and the crowd was getting bored. "Put the Gay one on next," the King ordered in a stage whisper. Armen who had been watching from the back came forward to be by the Kings side, the Queen brought Greta down to be beside him, "Moment of truth lad," the King said patronisingly. Edward wanted to kneel on the seat and take it from behind but Lansdorf would have none of it, "No sir, ah, madam, ah, miss, ah whatever, you must sit like the other contestants." Edward sat as instructed and raised his smock, he looked ridiculous with his prick stuck to his belly and Lansdorf too a big breath and forced the bronze into Edwards tight bud of an ass hole, it went in barely 5cm. "Sire, it barely fits," Lansdorf announced. "Then use the mallet man!" the King laughed. "Mall it, Mall it!" the crowd started to chant led it must be admitted by Greta. "You're enjoying this," the Queen suggested, and Greta just giggled. Lansdorf had found a hammer by this time and he tapped the dildo. "Whack it, it's brass not glass!" someone said so Lansdorf did "Whack." "Aggghhh!" Edward screamed, and then again, higher pitched in complete agony as his ass started bleeding. "Sire he bleeds," Lansdorf explained. "One more for luck," the King suggested and Edward fainted, "Put him with the poachers," the King said harshly for being gay was illegal at that time. The mood turned sullen quite quickly, "Hang them!" they shouted "Hang them, Armen, Hang them, Armen." Greta encouraged them. "You stupid girl," the Queen sighed, "If they hang him you'll never be queen." "I don't want to be!" Greta insisted. "Don't knock it till you tried it, fine silk on your nipples beats rough smock cloth any day." the Queen whispered, "Choice of footmen, no one ordering you about." "Oh," Greta said, "I never thought." "So borrow one of my old dresses and try the dildo." the Queen said. "What show my unmentionables!" Greta said shocked. "No!" the Queen said, "Suck it!" Greta laughed, "Yes why not!" she agreed and they slipped away. An hour later a dejected crowd were about to lynch the poachers when Herr Lansdorf announced, "Our final contestant Princess Margeurita!" and an almost unrecognisable Greta in a fairy tale princess dress three sizes too big stepped up on stage. She sat on the chair and said, "Well wipe it off first, you don't know where it has been!" which got a laugh and then when Lansdorf wiped it she took it and licked the end. The crowd fell silent as she kissed the end and then tipping her head back she slid it down her throat and began to, well choke to be honest. "The winner!" Lansdorf cried as she turned blue and he dragged the dildo form her mouth. "Is she all right!" Armen cried and he rushed to her side, "You did that for me?" he asked. "No, not really, it was fun," Greta explained. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the King shouted, "There will now be a short interval while we erect the gallows, we have two poachers today and two homosexuals, Prince Armen and his friend Edward." "What?" Armen protested, "But I am to be married to Greta." "Indeed, married then hung," the King said, "That way we have a Princess we can be proud of." "But the marriage is void unless consummated, and if I consummate I am not homosexual," Armen said seeing the trap he had fallen into. "Hang on don't I get a say in this?" Greta asked. "No," the Queen snapped, "If you don't like it I'll have my dress back!" There was a gasp as Greta pulled the dress over her head and threw it at the Queen She realised her mistake instantly, blood vessels bulged on Armen's forehead. "No sire!" Lansdorf pleaded and he grabbed the dildo and forcing Greta into the chair he forced it deep inside her sweet virgin cunt, she gasped, and then Armen was on her. "I have to, please forgive me!" he pleaded as he struggled to grip the slimy dildo sending sensations of unbearable pleasure coursing through Greta's slim boyish body. Fingers tugged at Armen's fly buttons and with a cheer that could be heard in Onionstadt he mounted her and throwing the dildo to the crowd he started to hump. He revelled in her moistness, no need to smear fresh lard over his cock after a dozen strokes like with Edward and quite suddenly Armen realised what he had been missing. The cheering reached a crescendo but Armen didn't cum so they got on with the hangings instead. "Yes, Yes, Yes!" Armen cried. "Shall we hang Edward for being gay?" Herr Lansdorf asked. "Yes, Yes, Yes!" Armen answered, "Or shall we send him to somewhere quite awful, Saffron Walden for instance?" Herr Lansdorf queried. "Yes, yes, yes," Armen exclaimed and so was Edward saved. Finally it was over, Greta looked up into a cloudless sky as Armen's cock slowly shrank. "Seventeen minutes and one half," Herr Lansdorf announced but no one was listening as they were watching the poachers dancing before voting which went through, (the Trapdoor) and which went through to the semi finals in Dresden, and the winner being hung at the Ocktoberfest in Munchen. The Reluctant Princess Armen and Greta went to see the King. "Ah I pronounce you man and wife," he said, "Go away." "You can't do that!" Greta protested. "Well I think I can," the King said, "And write death warrants," he added, "Which is it to be?" Greta looked at the ground and at Armen, the King sighed and said. "For heavens sake its a simple enough question." "Look when I'm King I'll divorce you and you can go back to the farm," Armen offered. "You know I want to be on the farm yet you keep me here you heartless beast!" Greta railed. "Right listen up," An exasperated King said, "Two weeks vacation on the farm every spring and fall, and two grandsons, tow mind, I can't be fairer than that." "OK," said Greta, "I suppose that's fair." "And when she's away father," Armen asked, "Do I use a maid from the brothel, or may I visit Edward in Saffron Walden?" "Neither, you help out on the farm," the King announced, "Man and wife, already consummated so arise Princess Marguerite." "I never agreed to that!" Greta pleaded. "Too late girl, honour an obey and all that," the King laughed. And Armen found himself holding Greta's hand and getting stiff again.... And the giant cock remained abandoned and unloved in the blacksmith's store shed until the workshop was demolished to make way for an Asda Walmart store and it was given to the museum. And Edward, who cares? I would like to think the all lived happily ever after but this is life not a fairy tale. Note Written in English English not Merican English