0 comments/ 17354 views/ 0 favorites Nina Part Two By: PaulUK I recalled that, when faced with a similar advance upon her person, my mother had given cries of encouragement to her partner, and I tried a few of these to see if they would stimulate my feelings. They did not. However, I had only to gasp "Come on stud!" and "You're the best, baby!" to hear Grope utter a shrill wail, and to feel him thrust his small stick further into the nest of my bosom. With a final gasp, he emptied a tiny amount of fluid onto my tits. It wasn't quite such a surprise as it had been when Pork had gone off in my hand, but it was a bit of a shock. I mopped a smear of it off with my fingertips, and sniffed it. It didn't smell at all like goat's milk. I licked it, and all I could taste was a kind of spiced salt. It did nothing for me. This action of mine, though, seemed to provide Grope with some enjoyment. He was shaking like a hut wall in a light breeze, and fighting for breath. "Gods..." he wheezed some minutes later. "You're a hot one, aren't you!" I had no idea what he meant. "I've never had any of the other girls get that excited about a tit fuck before! What a horny bitch you are!" I had horns? Was this another word for tits? My vocabulary was growing all the time. Grope recovered his composure, which meant he become sour and over-bearing. "You needn't think life will be so pleasurable all the time! You'll work, my girl. You'll scrub the kitchens, you'll clean the bedrooms. The only time you'll indulge your carnal lusts are when I bring you here! Understand?" I didn't, but I nodded mutely. "Good." He rose, and unlocked the door. "You shall sleep here tonight," he ordered, leering. He made to leave, so I coughed politely. He might have forgotten, but I had been well educated in the ways of love. Many was the time when my mother had summoned back a departing customer with such a cough. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I inquired. The Chamberlain scratched his head, much puzzled. "My pay!" I pointed out indignantly. Grope laughed maniacally. "You get your pay at the end of the week, like everyone else!" And with that he left, locking the door behind him. So, that was how it was to be. I should have expected that they would handle things differently here in the palace. I would be paid, not on each occasion, as my dear mother had insisted, but at the end of each week. Fine Ð I would keep a tally, so that I might reckon how I prospered. Perhaps I would prove able to support Mama's burden after all. *** Of course, I still had an immediate problem, namely that of being stuck in this room when I wanted to be with my master, Tumescence, who had paid for my services. I was also quite cold, since Grope had been too excited to notice that I had not just removed my clothing, but torn it to shreds. It was dark Ð the cell was lit only by the murky light which filtered through my narrow window from the upper vaults of the temple. I was hungry. All in all, I was quite unhappy. It was several hours later, I think, when I again heard one of the sisters call from the floor of the Temple. I climbed to the window, thrusting my head through. It was Charity once more. Nor was she alone. Angelica stood at her side, supporting a stooping old man. Joy flared up in my breast. Though he looked less decrepit than when I last saw him, I recognised my master at once. He couldn't see me, for he was blindfolded. However, he cocked his head back when I called. I think he was as pleased to find me, as I was to be found. "Where are you, Nina?" he called, huskily. "I really don't know," I replied. "Grope brought me up some long, curved stair from the main entrance to the tower." Tumescence groaned something, and he seemed to be trying to count on his fingers even though he couldn't see them. "Ah!," he remarked after a while. "There are so many stairways coiled about the outer wall of the palace, each serving separate chambers throughout the tower. I can't be sure which it is. I had no idea that there was a chamber overlooking the Temple of Fahni!" "Nor had we," giggled Angelica. She and Charity blushed richly. "It's obvious that some previous King desired a spy-hole from where he could keep an eye on the Temple," Tumescence continued. "I'll need to read a few documents. All this may mean your rescue is somewhat delayed." This prospect didn't please me. "Master Grope said he might return at any time! Suppose he takes me away from here? Perhaps we should return to the original plan? I could climb down a rope!" Tumescence shook his head. "Even if you could manage it, it would be difficult to smuggle you out of the Temple. The priestesses are not allowed to mix with the rest of the Tower. If you were discovered sneaking out, it would risk revealing the existence of the spy-room to the High Priestess of Fahni. I'm not ready to face a scandal." "What do you suggest, then?" I asked. "Stay there," Tumescence advised me. "I have engaged someone to begin looking for you. Even if I am unlucky in my researches, he may find you in a short while anyway." "But I'm cold and I'm hungry. Grope could come back at any time. And I don't have any clothes on. I tore them up to make a cord." I noticed that Tumescence seemed to faint at my words. Charity and Angelica bore him up on their arms. I chastised myself for being so selfish. Here was I, forced to endure a little suffering, and my Master was ill. "Oh, Master, forgive me. You are still weak. And is there something wrong with your eyes? Ð I notice you wear a bandage!" The mage regained his balance, and the two women stepped away. "There's nothing wrong with my eyes!" he sighed. "However, there are strict laws pertaining to the Temple of Fahni. The only male allowed to gaze upon the sisters is the High Priest. This was the only way I could get in. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't sure I was ready to see you again anyway. I need more time to recover my strength!" "Is it true then, mighty wizard," interrupted Charity, with a strange smirk on her face, "that practitioners of magic are weakened by sex?" Tumescence half-turned in her direction. "Not all practitioners, no. Some forms of magic actually depend on sexual energy for their power. Those of my branch of magic, however, find that pleasures of the flesh sap our magical potency." "It sounds as if you made a very difficult choice," remarked Angelica, stepping closer to her colleague. She whispered something into Charity's ear that made them both smile. "Not so very difficult," Tumescence continued meanwhile. "Those other magicians, with their orgies with succubi and vampires, they're not so clever. And I can indulge in some wild fun of my own twice a decade, without ruining my magical appetite." "You must have a strong will," murmured Angelica provocatively. I watched her stand behind Charity's back, and lift the black-haired novice's robe up slowly, revealing her long thighs and the jumble of ebony hair between her legs. "It's absolutely essential," Tumescence replied quickly, still ignorant of what was happening. Clutching Charity's robes in one fist, Angelica was reaching around with her free hand to stroke the top of her fellow priestess' thighs. Charity spread her legs wide, allowing the other girl to insinuate her fingers more deeply, and ground her buttocks against Angelica's strong legs. Tumescence seemed to hesitate, tilting his head this way and that, as if he had heard some soft and intriguing sound. In the deep silence of the temple, I could hear it too Ð a low, soft moan from Charity's lips, and a wet, sloshing sound where she was spending liberally over Angelica's hand. Tumescence began to look pale, and to shrivel in his clothes. I knew I had to rescue him at once. "Master! How am I to be saved?" The wizard tilted his head back, following my voice back to its source high above. The distraction had worked. "As I was saying, I have engaged the services of a hero who will seek out your chamber. You must listen out for him. Only if Grope reappears should you risk climbing down into the Temple!" The plan was agreed. I let down my cloth rope, and Angelica released Charity for long enough to tie a more substantial rope to its end. I hauled this up, and tied my end to a metal ring I discovered set in the wall. By the time I returned to the window, Tumescence and the two sisters had gone. I watched for a while, but no-one entered the hall below, so I resigned myself to waiting. The already-gloomy cell grew darker, and I knew that the light from Fahni's Temple was being dimmed. In the blackness of night, I finally drifted off to sleep, naked, hungry and cold. I'm not sure how long I slept, but I awoke to hear a key turning in the door. The door swung open. Whoever had entered bore no light, and I couldn't make out any sign of who it might be. Nor did the person make a sound, even when I asked who it was. Instead, I felt a hand reach out and touch my quivering breast, and I panicked. Who else could this be, but the Chamberlain? Instinctively, I reached out and grasped the handle of a small bucket which stood in the corner of the room. Swinging this with all my might, I brought it down hard on the head of my assailant. There was a loud crack, a short grunt, and he fell flat on the floor at my feet. I could still see nothing. I reached out my hands to see if I could find anything of interest on the Chamberlain's unconscious body. Almost at once, I knew I had made a mistake. Instead of Grope's angular torso and limbs, I encountered a large plain of taut muscle. Exploring in one direction, I discovered a broad chin, and a solid, square face framed by a swathe of hair. Going back down the powerful chest, I met a wide belt, from which hung a small square of cloth, and then beneath that Ð to my amazement Ð a long hose-like object, curled in the giant's lap. What could this be? I gave it an experimental tug, but it did not come loose. Instead, it seemed to become a little larger. Now I knew what I had found! So, it wasn't the Chamberlain after all. Who, then? A rescuer, sent by Tumescence, or some lackey of Grope's? How could I be sure? What clinched it was that he had a key, which I reasoned meant he had to be an ally of the Chamberlain's. I decided to play safe, and to escape from the chamber while the giant was out cold. But before I could think of leaving, I had to satisfy my curiosity about something. After all, I had just spent several long hours with nothing more to ponder than the sight of Charity and Angelica sucking the priest's cock while they invented lascivious dreams for his entertainment. What, I wondered, did a man's thing taste like? I made sure I had the key safely in my fist, and that the giant was still slumbering peacefully. Then I knelt over his body, and dipped my head towards that hard muscle my hands had discovered. It lay, curving slightly, across the flat plain of his belly, the tip two-thirds of the way to his navel. Coarse hair surrounded its base like a forest, and his sack nestled between his thighs. I let my hand travel across them lightly, and then searched for him with my lips. First, I placed a small kiss on the middle of his long tube. It felt slightly hot to the touch, and there was a strong, but very pleasant odour of sandalwood and oil. Pleasantly surprised, I kissed his flesh again, lingering longer, and opening my mouth to take a small portion of him inside. There was a hint of salt about him, and something else I couldn't place. I grew bolder, and touched the slick skin with my tongue. It felt luxurious. I was enjoying this activity so much, that I settled myself more comfortably, and slid my hand around the base of his tool, to raise the head towards my lips. It twitched slightly, and seemed to reach out towards me. The flesh grew slightly warmer, and much harder. I investigated the soft, gentle skin at the tip, and the small hole there, probing gently with my tongue. I rolled the flesh around in my mouth, and felt it swell. I licked the underside of the stem, then took the length of it in my mouth, imitating the sucking motions I had seen. The cock grew longer and thicker, and I felt myself grow hungry for it. I licked and sucked, and let my teeth run along the skin. Finally, I took as much of it in my mouth as I dared, letting the glans touch the back of my throat. Suddenly, the cock was twitching violently, and the man was stirring. I jumped to my feet and raced for the door even as he spent across his belly. I scrambled for the door in the darkness, and slipped out into the stairway, pulling the door closed behind me and locking it. My mind was in a torment as I raced down the stairs, finally reaching the entrance to the palace I had wandered through before. Nobles and servants alike scattered from my path as I ran into the courtyard. My mind was racing, but I heard a great deal of shouting and swearing, not least from the smith, who had dropped an anvil on his foot. As I ran into the open air, I realised that I was completely naked. I caught sight of Titania, standing amongst some other Rough Riders, watching me intently, but no-one moved to stop me as I raced towards the small building into which I had watched Tumescence disappear when I first arrived. I found myself in a small room, deeply carpeted, and lined with shelves along every wall from floor to ceiling. The shelves were full of jars and other containers. I ignored them, and fled through a beaded curtain which led into the rear of the building. Here I found some sleeping quarters, and a locked door. Just when I thought no-one was here, a hidden door opened at the back of the building, and Tumescence walked in. When I saw him, in his majestic purple robes, I bounced up and down with glee and threw myself towards him. When he saw me, as naked as the day he bought me, he aged ten years and fell over. *** It took me a few hours to wake him him, during which I discovered a trunk full of costumes. I had the presence of mind to select some clothes to cover myself with, since I feared that my master would be unable to stay conscious long if I remained as I was. I then remained with him for those few hours, dreading that someone would come at any moment to take me away from this place. But no-one came, and Ð finally Ð Tumescence stirred. He still looked pretty ancient, but at least the grey pallor had been washed from his face. He opened his eyes, and found me cradling him in my arms, sitting on a low divan along the wall of what I took to be his bedroom. He uttered a low moan, and took a nervous look about the room. I couldn't be sure if he was pleased to see me or not, but I was very glad to see him. Slowly, my master recovered his wits, and struggled to stand. He removed himself from the divan, and staggered across to a desk against the opposite wall, sinking into a hard, wooden chair drawn up in front of it. I followed, bringing him a small cup which I had filled with wine I had found in a bottle under the divan. I remained standing in the centre of the room my head lowered respectfully. Tumescence drank a little wine, and recovered the use of his voice. "Nina. You escaped." "Yes, master. A minion of the Chamberlain unlocked the door, and I struck him with a bucket." Tumescence widened his eyes in astonishment. "Didn't the man I sent to find you set you free?" I thought deeply before answering. After all, the fact that he had sent someone doesn't mean that it was the same person who found me, right? So, naturally, since I couldn't actually be sure who it was I had struck with the bucket, I decided to do what any girl would in the circumstances, and lied. "No, master." He looked fairly puzzled by this, but then he wasn't entirely recovered from his collapse. He took a longer gulp from the glass I had poured for him, paused, then took a long look around the room. "You haven't touched anything, have you?" he asked. I froze on the spot. Were we still talking about my Ôrescuer'? I realised that Tumescence meant something in the room. "There was the wine..." I confessed. "Yes, but apart from that?" I thought hard. "The glass?" Tumescence winced, and shook his head vigorously. I gave the matter some more thought, worried in case I had transgressed so early in my new employment. "Only you, master!" "What?!" he cried, and I almost burst into tears. "Only you. I had to pick you up, and sit you in the chair and..." "Enough!" he spluttered. He gripped the edge of the desk by which he sat, and took several long breaths. "What I mean is... look, you have to understand something about magic. In the wrong hands, it's dangerous stuff. Even simple potions have to be handled with extreme care. Magic feeds on human energy Ð that's why there are so many different types. There's necromancy, which feeds on dark evil; there's white magic, which feeds on purity and truth. Then there's sex magic, which Ð" he gave me a long, lingering look, then shivered. "Ð but we'll talk about that later. "In the meantime, you have to understand that you mustn't touch anything that might have a magical purpose unless I specifically tell you otherwise. That means you mustn't touch any of the bottles and vials in the shop, nor any of the books in the library, nor any of the equipment in my laboratory." "What about stuff in here?" I asked. "Am I to handle anything in the bedroom?" He shuddered again. "Especially not in here!" he wheezed. He showed me round, pointing out a small chamber where I could sleep, and the basic facilities of the building. I noticed it didn't include anywhere to cook. "You'll have to eat with the other servants," he remarked. "Master Ð what exactly will my duties be?" I asked once the tour was almost complete. He had a long think, as if realising that the moment had come when his whim in adopting me could rebound on him like an avalanche on a loud climber. Then he started rummaging under his robes for something. I started to lick my lips Ð I thought I had a pretty good idea what was coming next Ð but instead he produced a key, and advanced on the library. I watched him unlock the door, and then step inside. Slowly, I stepped inside. It was starting to dawn on me that there was something quite strange about Tumescence's residence. The library was the tenth room I had visited, and yet Ð from the outside Ð the building had appeared to be quite small. When I stepped into the library, I knew something had to be wrong with my eyesight, because it was vast! Row after row of bookcases stretched off in two aisles along the length of the room, and each shelf was filled to bursting with books, scrolls and clay tablets. Even more volumes and discarded sheaths of paper and vellum littered the floor. The forests that must have been felled to fill that room... At the end of the room by the door there was a small desk, with various writing implements stored on its surface. A rickety chair stood before the desk, and there was a large cupboard with drawers and pigeon-holes in the corner. Apart from those three items, the room was crammed with shelves, books and more books. "If you expect me to dust all those shelves, you've picked the wrong girl," I muttered. Tumescence worked his way through the debris towards the further aisle, and tottered off, beckoning me to follow. We walked for some distance. In places, we had to ascend piles of fallen books, scattered like a paper rockslide. Eventually, we reached a shelf in a poorly-lit section of the room. "Your job, Nina, is to help me with these books." I cast a critical stock-taking eye over the groaning shelves. 780, give or take a dozen either way. "What's so special about these ones?" I asked. Tumescence gave a strange giggle. "They are books which relate to a particular form of magic Ð one which I find it hard to concentrate on." "Oh, really?" I asked. "What sort of magic is that?" Nina Part Two "Sex magic," he replied, trembling somewhat. He let his gaze linger over some of the nearest books, and it made his eyes water. "You remember I told you that there were different types of magic? And that each drew its power from some aspect of instinctual human behaviour and emotion? Well, I am a silver wizard. I draw my strength my intellect and rationality. When I stand near the books of Pythonagoras or Suckrates, I am filled with their power and reason. The more I understand, the greater I become. Do you understand?" "Not really," I confessed. It didn't seem to matter to Tumescence, who continued his lecture. "Sex magic is different. It draws its power from Ð well Ð sex. Sex magicians like to prance around naked in the open air with young virgins." "Not too many of them round here, then..." "No, you're quite right there. In fact, despite all the attractions, there aren't that many wizards who are prepared to specialise in sex magic. The hours are long, and they spend more time looking for virgin maids to deflower than they do actually deflowering them, if you know what I mean." I was starting to wish he wouldn't keep saying that. "And that's the problem, you see. The King, our most Magnificent Harrdon, wants me to prepare him an illustrated copy of the Orgasmus, the most sacred book of Mammari, to give to an important member of the court who returns home in a few days. I can't copy the book myself, though Ð you've seen how sex drains my powers." I certainly had. But what was this to do with me? "I need an apprentice, someone who can do the job for me. You can write, can't you? That's what I thought. All you have to do is copy the words from the old copy of the Orgasmus I have lying around here into a new volume. Then I'll get the court painter to add the illustrations, and the job is done!" It didn't sound so difficult, and it was earning me free room and board inside the palace, so I didn't want to look a gift goat in the mouth, but I figured it might be sensible if I took a look at this book, so that I had a better idea what I was letting myself in for. Tumescence scowled when I suggested this, then waved a finger airily in the direction of a large case on the second shelf. "That's it, there," he whimpered, stepping back a few paces. "I'll leave you to it, if you don't mind, only my arthritis is already playing me up. Come and find me when you're done, and we'll see about getting something to eat." I watched Tumescence totter away, then dragged what I thought was a trunk from the shelf. Only it wasn't a trunk, it was a single book, its huge pages packed with dense writing and pictures. I staggered under the weight of it, and tripped over a pile of old maps stacked against the wall. The book hit the ground with a heavy thud, and flipped open its leaves most eagerly. I decided not to lug it all the way back to the desk, but to read it where it had fallen, so I made myself comfortable on the piles of rolled up maps, and hauled the book in front of me to read from where the book had fallen open. It was a story I hadn't heard before, even though mum had told me so many. It concerned two Nordic maidens who were strolling through the forest one day. It started to rain, and they squealed and giggled loudly as the rain soaked their long skirts and their frilly blouses. Like all good Nordic maidens, they were big-breasted girls, and the wet fabric of their blouses was soon moulded round their ripe, heavy tits, and their firm, muscular thighs were likewise revealed under the damp cloth. They kicked off their skirts, and continued on their way with their fat arses wobbling, and their tits shining through the translucent material. And like all good Nordic maidens traipsing through the forest half-undressed, they were surprised by a giant troll. The troll leapt out onto the path in front of them, brandishing a mighty staff in front of him. There was a picture of him at this point in the text, and I can tell you it was a very impressive staff indeed. Trolls have a slightly stone-like constitution at the best of times, but this troll was rock hard, and when he saw the Nordic maidens he became even harder. They made a big show of running away of course, but he caught them easily and dragged them across the mountains to his cave, which he sealed with a huge boulder. The girls cowered in the depths of the cave in their skimpy blouses while the troll lit a fire and announced casually that he was going to eat them. And that even though they might like it while he was nibbling on their juicier parts, they'd be less contented when they became the main course. Facing imminent death, the Nordic maidens came up with a stunning plan, pretty much the only plan they were capable of. If they agreed to fuck him all night, would he agree to open the cave in the morning and let them go? "Alright," said the troll, "it's a deal." Now the maidens were more than a little worried by the size of his staff, so Ð having removed their frilly blouses and untied their braided, blonde hair Ð they rubbed each other vigorously to make their cunts wet enough to take it. This pleased the troll a great deal, and it pleased him even more when they sucked his staff, and rubbed their slippery bodies along its prodigious length. After almost an hour of this, the Nordic maidens were ready, so the troll laid the first one down, and knelt between her chubby white thighs. Gripping his staff in both hands, he manoeuvred the huge tip between the lips of her cunt, and started to push. At first, all he succeeded in doing was pushing her round the cave on her back, but the maiden opened herself a little wider, and he gradually started to penetrate her sex. Finally, with a great shove, he got half his length up her, and started to fuck her with a vengeance. After about an hour, the poor girl could stand no more, so her compatriot was pulled to the ground in her place, and the troll stuck his staff up her. She squealed and kicked her heels in the air as he thrust in and out of her sodden quim, gripping her tits in his big, stone paws. He fucked her for two hours, until she had come so many times her brains had turned to jelly. Since he still hadn't come, the poor Nordic maiden held up her hands to beg for mercy. "Why haven't you cum yet?" she asked. "Have you ever tried to get spunk out of a stone?" he replied, which is where we get the expression from. And with that he bent her over a stone, and started to fuck her from the rear. There is a sting in the tail of this tale, of course, which is that the troll had carried the Nordic maidens so far north that they were in those lands where the sun doesn't rise for three months in the year. So, when they agreed to let him fuck the all night, they got more than they bargained for. I read the story with some interest, pushing down the filmy pantaloons I wore so that I could frig my pussy, which was suitably aroused by the story. I lay on my belly, with my arse in the air, and my hand gently frotting my clitty. I was becoming quite excited when Tumescence called that it was time to go in to dinner. I closed the book, carried it back to the shelf, then went to find my master. Studious readers will have noticed that Ð despite everything that has happened so far Ð I still hadn't experienced a proper orgasm. Bear with me; things start to look up in that direction. Meantime though, and without me understanding why, I was becoming quite agitated. When I joined Tumescence, I was almost in tears. "What is it, Nina?" "Master, can't I stay here? If I go back into the tower, Grope may kidnap me again." "He wouldn't dare risk my wrath," wheezed Tumescence, sagging heavily on his staff (at which point I remembered to fasten my pantaloons more securely). "You're perfectly safe." Even so, I wasn't brave enough to take the risk, so I asked the wizard to bring me back some food, which he did when he staggered back into his home, the worse for drink. I ate alone in my room while he staggered off to his own bed, then I wrapped myself up in my blankets and fell asleep. The next morning, I awoke early, and found that my master was still sleeping off the effects of last night's drink. Keen to make a good impression, I pulled on my pantaloons and a small red waistcoat, and went into the library to make a start on my mammoth task. I found some vellum, quills and ink, and cleared a space on the desk. After some consideration, I decided it would be a lot less effort to take the desk and chair to the Orgasmus, rather than try and drag it all the way to where they stood. It didn't take so long, and soon I had the volume open on the desk (which groaned under the strain), and had started to copy. I found myself starting from the story of Clitopatra, a former Queen of Mammari who had reigned here during our glorious Twelfth Dynasty. This had been a time of great trouble for the Kingdom,what with the Rogerran Empire threatening to engulf us, and various disputes between the gods leaving us without the benefit of an active divine insurance policy. When an old King died in the Twelfth Dynasty, it was normal for his eldest son to take the throne, and to marry his most nubile sister, and then to kill off all his brothers to prevent any competition for the throne. Clitopatra's mother had had six daughters, only producing a son when Clitopatra was already eight. Fifteen years later, the old King died. The nobility were very happy, because his son, known as Phuk, was the only boy, which meant no distasteful stranglings of younger brothers. Clitopatra, on the other hand, was very unhappy at any possibility of marrying her brother. Not only were his acne, halitosis and body odour in fierce competition to be the most revolting aspect about him, but she also knew that he bathed at best once every five years (so often!). So she renounced all claim to the throne, and ran off to find a more suitable partner. The boss of the Rogerran Empire at the time was a randy old goat named Droolius Ceizeher. Everyone knew he preferred boys on the whole, but that suited Clitopatra since it eliminated much of the competition. She had herself wrapped up in a carpet, and delivered to his palace. When Ceizeher unwrapped the unexpected gift, he was double delighted, first because Clitopatra had bound up her boobs so tight she looked like a boy, but even more so because her gauzy trousers were split from the waistband at the back to the crotch. The Emperor leapt on her, and gave her a thorough fucking before he even realised she was a woman, if you catch my meaning. Well, to cut a long story short, she convinced him that he should renounce all other men, and cleave only to her. They did a great deal of cleaving. And when he wasn't cleaving, Ceizeher was conquering. He led the Rogerrans to Mammari and placed Clitopatra on the throne. She had a rare old time with his favourite general, Marc Handsomely, then had the old Emperor bumped off by his best friend, Brut, who was built like a brick shithouse and could fuck all night without stopping for cocoa. I thought the story of Clitopatra was very inspiring, but the story as told in the copy of the Orgasmus Tumescence owned was as dull as ditchwater. Certainly I could remember a great many other details, which my mum had always remembered, but which seemed to be missing from this account. For example, Clitopatra liked to bathe in milk, or so the book said. My mum knew better. Clitopatra liked to bathe in yogurt, and to have it licked off her by her maids. Then there was a lot of nonsense about her killing herself by letting an asp bite her breast. It was a well known fact that she died when she let a beast bite her ass. Rather than let these inaccuracies continue, I added a few changes to the work I copied. By noon, I had completed the story. Tumescence awoke, and I brought him some lunch. I served him some soup and bread, and he looked much stronger for it. "How have you got on this morning?" he asked. I told him what I had achieved. "Good! Now take the sheaths you have finished into the Tower, and ask for Master Bator, the court artist. He will supply the illustrations." "But master, I'm still not ready to go back into the tower," I wailed. Tumescence tutted impatiently. "Don't be silly, girl. Grope is hardly likely to attack you in the main hall in broad daylight. You'll be perfectly safe, I tell you." He refused to listen to my pleas, and escorted me through the shop, and out into the courtyard. I trotted quickly to the main doorway on my tiny sandalled feet, and in through the door where Grope had intercepted me. No-one came to halt my progress this time, and I skipped along a tiled hall, and through an archway into a large chamber near the centre of the tower. I paused there for a moment, taking in the sights and sounds, quite giddy with excitement. It was as if I had died and gone to heaven. This was the main banqueting hall of the Palace! Here was I, a tap-girl from the Humped-back Beast Inn, walking freely into the banqueting hall of the Magnificent Harrdon himself! Great braziers lit the room in warm light, and the air was full of scent and incense. Servants, dressed in the same kind of tunic I had worn so briefly myself, scurried this way and that, going to and fro through the doors across the way, bearing flagons of wine, plates of bread, meat and fruit, and bringing them to the tables of the King's guests. For one electrifying moment, I wondered if the King himself might be dining there, but there was no-one seated at the high table except a callow youth of perhaps fifteen, with a few aged women alongside, piling food onto his plate and whispering in his ear through rouged lips. He looked thoroughly miserable. I felt quite sorry for him. However, it was easy to contain my disappointment, for collected on the divans and cushions were the great and the good of Mammari, the dukes and earls, the countesses and marquesses, the sons and daughters of generations of nobility and royalty. There were perhaps thirty or forty guests in the hall, young men and women of quality, with a few older men and well-preserved women amongst them. And beautiful! I had never seen so many beautiful faces and bodies in such a small space. The Inn's customers had been many things, but beauty wasn't uppermost among their attributes. In here were the pampered and groomed cream of society, eating and drinking their fill Ð Still standing in the open doorway, I suddenly realised that for all the great amount of food being brought from the kitchens, there wasn't that much being eaten. That is, there wasn't much eating of the comestibles. About a dozen paces in front of me, a man sat on a great pile of cushions, escorted by two young women in jewelled head-dresses and vaporous skirts of silk. Where they would normally have worn the skimpy bras I saw thrown to the floor behind them, the two women wore layers of pureed fruit. There was one tit covered in lime, another in peach, a third in strawberry and the last in banana. The gentleman was slowly licking this off, which occasioned much giggling from the women. Between lengthy sucks, he would pronounce on the flavour of each tit, unable to make up his mind which was tastiest. Some of the food was greasy enough to remind me of home, but that was just how these people liked it. I watched a mature woman with a very narrow waist rubbing great handfuls of fat onto the bloated cock of a young, round man, who was himself anointing the shapely rear of a delicate girl with large, grey eyes and a wistful, expectant expression. Two other men were bobbing for apples in a chalice filled with wine, but when they were joined by a tall, leggy brunette, they lifted her into the chalice and went bobbing for her pussy instead. It was more than just a novelty to me to see food used in that way. I couldn't imagine for a moment that anyone could feel the same about curdled goat's milk as one young man felt about the banana he was being fed from out of the pussy of his short companion. I also found myself wandering how I could fulfil my goal to become rich when there were clearly so many girls to compete with. And there was no sign of any money trading places. Even as I tried to gather my thoughts, and get on with the task my master had assigned me, I caught sight of a familiar back. I knew at once that it was the same man I had seen just two days before, when I had mistakenly walked into the main entrance of the tower. There could be no mistake Ð that same long, broad back, rounded with deep muscle; the same heavy head and the wild tumble of russet-brown hair; the same thick, powerful legs. Yes, alright. And the same taut bum, all bronzed and oiled, with a dark cleft dividing it. He was seated on a divan, a short distance away, turned away from me, his arms moving slowly. I moved very slightly around the hall to see what he was doing. His massive hands were wound through the hair of his companion, and he was stroking her scalp with his fingers. It was the same beautiful woman I had seen him with before. The great snake of shining blue-black hair was untied, and spread about her back like a cape. She was naked, as was he, and they both had their eyes closed, which allowed me to walk slowly round the hall to be roughly at that point of the wall where his feet pointed without being seen. She was lying on a deep pile of cushions and rugs, her head in his lap, and she was sucking idly at his cock while he stroked her head. Of all the things I had seen consumed since I came into the room, this was the only meat I found myself desiring. Yes, call it love or call it lust, I instinctively knew I wanted him. I might have struggled to put my feelings into words, but there was a deep hole inside me, and it wanted filling. All the scraps of sexual knowledge that were lying around in my mind, captured from the stories my mum had told me, distilled from the sly glances through the keyhole of her room, illuminated by the illustrations in the Orgasmus, all of these were shouting and waking up my libido, crying "Look, that's what we meant! You have to get some of that!" It wasn't easy, but I tried to get a good look at his cock as it slid wetly in and out of the woman's rounded mouth. I had very little to compare it with, but I knew that this was a different order of thing from the spurting snake of Pork Sausage, or the tiny worm that Grope had pointed between my tits. The woman's jaw was struggling to hang onto her face, and her pink lips were distended so wide I feared something might snap, and she would sort of peel open like an orange. And yet, I felt, that wasn't all there was to it. It was still quite flaccid, not quite hardened to its peak. Then the man's eyes popped open. I gaped at him as he caught sight of me. His eyes lit up and Ð I swear this is no boast or exaggeration Ð his cock seemed to swell that little bit further. There was an audible crack, and the black-haired woman popped off his cock like she had been flung from a catapult. I heard him call "Wait!", but I was already turning away, blundering towards an opening in the slowly curving wall. A bright-eyed young man with tight, curly blonde hair was lolling idly in the archway, and I cannoned into him as I span round, dropping the sheaths of paper I had been carrying. "Hey, be careful!" he laughed. I blurted out "Do you know where I can find Master Bator?" and when he said he did I asked him to take me there at once. Seconds later, before I could grab even one of the fallen sheets, he was whisking me out of the hall, and up a short flight of stairs. The russet-haired man didn't manage to follow us quickly enough before we disappeared into a small doorway. I had been so busy looking back over my shoulder to make sure that my pursuer was left behind, I didn't notice where I was being taken. Consequently, it was only when the door was closed that I noticed I was in a small chamber with fine tapestries on every wall, and a circular bed in the centre of the floor. My rescuer and I were not the only occupants, furthermore, there was a couple lounging on the bed, their limbs entwined, drowsily turning to face us. Nina Part Two "Look what I've found," my rescuer chimed. The couple looked me over. He was a disreputable-looking chap with dark hair, a few days of beard on his face, and shrewd blue eyes. She was a slender young woman, with oval eyes Ð much like the blonde man who had "saved" me Ð and the same mass of tightly coiled blonde hair. She had tiny breasts, capped with long nipples which pointed rigidly from her body, and very slim legs. I tried to introduce myself. "My name is Nina, and I'm looking for Ð" "Never mind that," she interrupted. "Take off your clothes." I stood there nonplused for a moment, not quite sure I had heard her right. Then my "saviour" walked past from behind me, having speedily shed his clothes. "I hope this is alright. Only, you're just what we need. Philippe is such a tit-man, you see." The scruffy chap nodded his head, and leered at me. He was sitting upright now, and beckoning me over. The blonde man stepped past, and stood at the side of the bed, whispering something to the girl. I noticed how alike they were Ð the same hair colouring, the same narrow eyes. I realised then that they were siblings. The girl remained on her back, stretching her delicate limbs. Her brother moved around the bed behind Philippe. "Come on," he said. "This will make quite an interesting chain." His sister lifted her head, propping it on her fist. "I hope you know how to suck pussy," she hissed. I was horrified. We'd never had pets at home. The situation suddenly struck me as being slightly threatening. I tried to back off "Actually, I'm not sure I Ð" "Either get your clothes off or get out," the girl commanded in a tired voice. Well, that ended the dilemma. I couldn't go back outside while he might still be there, so I would have to obey. So, I pulled the cord on my pantaloons, and let them drop to the floor. Then I shrugged the small red waistcoat off my shoulders and dropped that too. It hadn't taken long for me to shed my clothes, and it wouldn't have taken that long had I not got my sandalled foot caught in the leg of my pantaloons just as I was preparing to kick them over by the door. I fell onto the bed into the waiting arms of Philippe. "She's certainly very keen," the dark-haired man admitted, which compliment pleased my blonde rescuer enormously. "So, we're all happy now?" he asked. Philippe grinned even more lecherously, and the girl sighed. I found myself being turned round so that I faced in the opposite direction to the blonde girl, and I was positioned above her on my hands and knees. Philippe moved round behind me, and the other man behind him. The bed creaked as they climbed aboard. The girl's white thighs parted, and her pink gash opened up a few inches under my chin. It dribbled slightly. Philippe's hands were fastened on my tits once more, weighing them as they swayed above the other girl's modest figure. Then I felt his hand on my head, forcing it down. "Go on, eat her pussy!" he urged. I felt his hand on the back of my head, and allowed myself to be guided downwards. I descended into the dark, warm, damp space between her legs. It smelt of slightly stale perfume, and a distinctly familiar tang of salt and sweat. My mouth was close to the wet wound of her cunt. I had no idea where this cat was supposed to be, but I could feel the luxuriant fur of her mound against my chin. I had the sudden wild thought that perhaps I was supposed to Ð but no, surely that was too ridiculous! She reached out to pull me closer, and I felt her fingers grazing my cheek. She had long nails, painted vivid colours. Her body was sinewy and supple, and she wriggled closer, narrowing the gap between my mouth and her slit. There wasn't much doubt left in my mind now, and there was even less when I felt her cool thighs close gently on my face. To my astonishment, I found I was encased in female flesh. There was another unfamiliar feeling. Philippe had bent over me, his head close by my ear, his unshaven jaw rasping along my cheek, and his knees pressed hard against the inside of my own. His bear-like hands were mauling my breasts, pulling the nipples roughly. Then I felt something hard butting up against me, slapping up against my belly. He was shuffling his body, swaying his hips from side to side, and this thick slab of what felt like the end of a hose was bobbing up and down, occasionally flapping against my abdomen. He grunted deeply, then hissed some rude word into my ear. The bed began to rock, and he was rising and falling along the length of my backbone, gradually working his way upwards so that the heavy sausage began to slither against the front of my slit. Despairing of my inactivity, the girl moved from the bed. I watched her move round to my side, then took a look back under my body to see what was happening. Peering first between my breasts, then along the length of my body, I could see a tangle of limbs around and behind my thighs.The girl's hands were reaching in to take hold of the meat I had felt. It will not surprise you Ð though I was pretty amazed Ð to discover that the sausage was Philippe's cock, a short, thick affair of dark flesh, which jutted from a thicket of wiry black hair. She bent her head and kissed it, drooling spit along its length. I took another moment to look back past my shoulder. The blonde man was kneeling behind Philippe, and it was his thrusting that was causing all the swaying. He was very close to the swarthy man, and I had only a moment to wonder where his cock was in all this when I saw him place a small tub of some oily cream on a tiny table at the bedside. Philippe's voice was thick with effort. "Get back in place, sister! You... girl... Quick... you... must... suck... her... pussy...," he insisted as the swaying increased tempo. The blonde girl returned to her previous place, and slid down the bed, trying to direct my head back between her thighs. As my mouth brushed the wet lips of her pussy, I felt the slab of pork once more, only it was higher now, and pressing hard against my slit. I had only a second to deal with the wave of emotions that washed over me. Was this to be the first time for me? What was I supposed to charge? Did I have to share it with the blonde girl? Where in all Mammari was this damn cat of hers? Then there was an urgent knock at the door, and an elderly, gruff voice. "Imona! Are you in there?" Everyone froze. "Father!" squealed the two blondes. There was an audible pop, and the blonde male and Philippe were gone from the bed, scampering towards their clothes, which were strewn over some chairs by the wall. The girl tossed me aside with a strength I wouldn't have credited her with. "Coming!" she called, pulling on a robe. I lay where I had fallen, and she glared at me. The knocking at the door grew more urgent. The men were half-dressed as Imona dragged me off the bed, and over towards the door, which was opening inward. Imona practically threw me into the space behind the opening door. A tall, distinguished man walked in, halting as he caught sight of the two men, who were making a great show of playing chequers on the dressing table, despite the fact that both were utterly dishevelled. The older man stood perfectly still, watching the charade. "Sorcy! Philippe! What are you doing here?" The blonde man waved a cheerful greeting. "Just keeping Imona company, papa!" The grey-haired man cursed under his breath. "But she's supposed to be getting ready. The wedding starts in barely an hour!" I bobbed down and rescued my clothes, hearing him continue on about how a bride-to-be had better things to do than to waste time playing games with her idiot brother and his wastrel friend. Silently, I stepped out from behind the door, and out into the passage. My pantaloons caught on the handle, pulling the door closed behind me. Something told me I had had a lucky escape. However, my luck was tempered by what greeted me in the passageway. Not the russet-haired man Ð that would have been too unlucky for words Ð but the second-worst thing. Grope, the Lord Chamberlain. "Well, well, well," he cackled. "What have we here?! The errant serving girl fallen back into my clutches!" He seized my wrist. "You know what this means, don't you?" I rather thought I did. *** Grope took me back to the room in which I had been imprisoned before. Almost at once I was on my back on the cold, hard stone floor, and the Chamberlain was pressing my boobs together to make a nest for his small tool. He humped away quite energetically for a few seconds, and then spilled his seed over my chest as before. I looked across to the wall, where I had scratched a mark after the first time. I wasn't exactly keeping up to my mum's pace. Just how much of this did a girl have to do to earn a decent living anyway? As he tucked his robes back into his belt once more, Grope sneered at me. "I suppose you thought you were very clever, escaping like that." He nodded his beak towards the narrow window. "Who saw you climb down? Don't lie to me!" Well, since no-one had, I replied "No-one!" Ð which proved to be the right answer. "Good," Grope drawled, snickering at some private pleasure. "Now, how did you get out of the Temple of Fahni?" Ah, now this was going to be a little bit trickier. "Come on! The Temple is supposed to be sealed off from the rest of the Palace, except for the gate of Synne. The Cardinal has the only key, and you are hardly likely to have got the key from him! So, how did you get out? I must know! If there is a way out, there is a way in!" That had a simple kind of logic, of course. However, the problem from my point of view was that if it was impossible to get in without the key, then my master, Tumescence, was capable of the impossible. It was barely a day since I saw him in the Temple! I couldn't let on that I hadn't escaped that way, but if I stuck to the story Grope had concocted, I might expose my master's capabilities. What a mess? I decided I had to change the subject. "Oh, master Grope. Wouldn't you like me to suck your pussy?" "What!?" He seemed rather more surprised than I had expected. Perhaps cats weren't his bag. I tried to envisage whether he might be a doggie-man. "Please, master. I just want to earn my way like the other girls. Let me give you what you want!" Grope shivered, and licked his lips. However, his self-control was stronger than I had catered for, and he spurned my offer. "You really can't live without it, can you? But don't change the subject. We were talking about how you escaped from here." So we were. My mind started to race through the complicated permutations once more. Grope, however, continued talking. "Listen, my dear. Why fight the inevitable? I shall get the information I require one way or another. Tell me what I need to know!" Another stalling tactic came to my mind. "Why do you want to know so badly? What could you want with the priestesses of Fahni?" "Ah! That must remain my secret for a while longer. What I will tell you is that it would be in your best interest to be nice to me. If I knew how to gain access to the Temple, such a secret would bring great power. One day, you know, it might even make me Ð King!" I gasped at his audacity. "How?" I asked, but he wasn't that forthcoming. "Never mind, Nina. Just answer the question, and I shall let you share in my power when the time comes. Just think, you could be the King's mistress! You'd like that, wouldn't you? And when I'm King, perhaps I'll let you Ð errr Ð suck my pussy." He stopped to think about this. "That is what you said, isn't it?" I nodded. Better abuse of a household pet than betrayal, I reckoned. "Tell me, my dear. What do you know about fellatio, or cunnilingus, or buggery?" I shrugged my shoulders, which set my tits jiggling. "I've never been to any of them, master Grope, though my uncle must have been to Buggery, because I heard my mum tell him to go there." Grope laughed loudly, almost beside himself with some private glee. "You think Ð they're places?!" he coughed. "You ignorant girl!! Do you really know so little? I can't hardly credit it! Is it possible that you're actually virgo intacta?" I shook my head. Mum had been very interested in all that astrology stuff, and she told me I was born under Labia. When I told this to Grope he almost had a heart attack. "This is too much!!" he wheezed. "I'll have to think very carefully what is to be done with you, Nina." He stood up, and produced the key as he backed off through the door. "I shall return later. In the meantime, don't try to escape. If you're not here when I get back, I shall have to dispense with subtlety, and tear down the walls of the Temple to find your secret passage." It was the kind of threat that makes a girl's blood run cold. I cowered in the corner. Grope closed the door, and I heard him walk away, laughing loudly. Well, what a pretty predicament I was in now! My makeshift rope was gone, and I was already naked, so I couldn't make another one. Grope had even removed the threadbare rugs and furs that had adorned the cell earlier. I climbed to the window to see if anyone was in the Temple below, but it was empty. I was trapped! I drew small consolation from the fact that I was able to add another mark to the wall where I kept my account of Grope's fuck-credit. How I was ever going to get him to pay up? I sat alone in the darkness for some time. I must confess to having shed a few tears, but I was determined that I would escape somehow. In the meantime, though, I drifted off into sleep. I dreamed quite vividly. Various faces and forms from the last few days drifted in and out of a most uncommon fantasy in which I was kidnapped in a carpet by a troll, and rescued by Titania from a deep, wet pool surrounded by a tufty blonde forest. Then the red-haired man turned up, and I felt that unusual hunger again. In the dream, I thought I was dying of thirst, and I was crawling naked across a hot desert. My throat was raw with dry heat. In the distance, I saw a golden statue, and a woman kneeling before it. I dragged myself towards it with the last of my strength. As I tumbled down the dune to fall at the statue's feet, I realised that it was a statue of the red-haired man. The woman was his dark-haired companion, and she was sucking on the golden tip of his massive tool. "Please," she whispered. "Please!" I looked up into the eyes of the statue, and saw that it was looking back at me with those wicked blue eyes. "I'm thirsty..." I gasped. "So is she," said the statue, "but I am afraid I am dry." The woman withdrew her mouth from the shiny knob she had been covering so fervently, and looked at me desperately. "It's true!" she wailed. "The fountain is dry!" "Can I try?" I asked. The woman looked back at me in a pitting fashion, but moved back but from the statue, dropping onto her haunches in a posture of complete despair. I took her place in front of the bronzed male, and pressed my lips to the rigid flesh that jutted from his belly. I covered the tip in tiny kisses, and tickled it with my tongue; I took the glans into my mouth, and hollowed my mouth as I sucked; I ran my lips along the underside of his shaft, nibbling at his meat with my teeth. You might wonder how I managed to be so thorough in my dream, given my lack of experience in real life, but I rather think that my brief encounter with the semi-conscious man in my cell earlier had inspired me, along with the obvious lesson I had been given while watching the sisters of Fahni. Dreams are strange things, and I suspect that my expertise in this one was some kind of premonition. Anyway, finally, I leaned forward, and took the whole of him into my mouth, though I felt the muscles of my jaw start to ache, and the bulb almost choked me. In my head, I uttered a prayer to the gods, and it was answered at once. The man began to jerk his hips, running his spear in and out between my lips, until Ð at last! Ð he burst forth in a jet of cooling spunk. It was a very intense dream, and I remember almost tasting the cum on my tongue. There was also another very strong sensation, an intrusive, insistent warm feeling in my cunt. In my dream, it felt like I was suddenly waist-deep in cum, but my mind knew that something more real was taking place, and I woke up. I knew at once that I was on my back on the cold stone floor, and that my legs were open wide. It took a moment longer for me to realise that my knees were supported in a pair of large hands, and that the wet heat I was feeling between my thighs was more than just my juices flowing after an erotic dream. The cell was dark, of course, but I didn't need perfect light to realise that there was a head bobbing up and down between my legs. And though I could hear nothing with which to identify the identity of the intruder, I was acutely aware of a hearty, liquid guzzling. I knew at once that the source of all the dampness was a slithering, worming tongue deep inside my pussy. For the very first time, my virgin puss was being plated, and I was on the verge of cuming. Not before time, either, I hear you cry. In fairness, I was adding quite a bit to the levels of liquid running between my buttocks, but the mouth that was slavering over me was doing more than its fair share. I'd never felt so completely soaked. My body was as taut as a drawn wire, and the nerve endings of my cunt were singing loudly. I was paralysed for a moment by a sense of shock, and also by the rising tide of excitement I was feeling. Sadly, I have to admit, that I then panicked. It had occurred to me at once that this intruder might be the same man I had previously brained with a bucket, and the thought filled me with dread. After all, as far as I knew, this was some minion of Grope's. I had taken a small liberty with him before, and now he was revenging himself, nibbling on my clit, and delving deep into my tight cunt. Instinctively, I yelped, and drew my thighs together. My assailant, lifting his head at the sound of my cry, placed his temple neatly in the path of my knee, and I cracked him solidly, about a half-inch from where I had previously dinged him with the bucket. I had to be hoped he had a thick skull. He dropped flat to the floor like a sack of Ð well, a sack of anything heavy and unconscious. He lay silent and still, and I paused for a moment, remaining where I lay, breathing rapidly. The orgasm that I had been so close to tripping subsided, and I felt able to move once more. I was conscious of a deep yearning in my guts, but I put that down to fear. I desperately wanted to get away from that room. I didn't even feel like sucking his cock again! I crept past the intruder, and found the door open. I was about to slip out to the stairway, when the notion hit me that I would be lucky to escape so easily again. Grope lingered around this part of the palace, and in my imagination I thought I heard the slap of his sandals on the stair below. I retreated back into the room, and closed the door. Searching the man, I found that he had a small length of rope wound about his waist. I took this, and fastened one end to the door handle. I then took the other end to the narrow window, and dropped it into the chamber below. In the light from the Temple, I realised at once that this rope was the very one that I had fashioned from my skimpy dress! He must have taken it from the window when I escaped the first time. Proof indeed that the intrduder was in Grope's employ! Well, he had failed in his mysterious purpose, and provided me with the means to my escape. I was determined to be free of this place at once. Without any more hesitation, I slid my way through the narrow aperture. It was a tight fit, and the rough stone scratched at my breasts and legs. Soon, though, I was through, and clutching fearfully at the rope, suspended high above the Temple floor. I didn't have a very good head for heights. Gripping my thighs tightly, I lowered myself down the rope, praying that the fabric would hold. To my relief, I finally reached the safety of the ground.