0 comments/ 25601 views/ 10 favorites Prince Bonir Vol. 01 By: DrSqueaky My name is Prince Bonir. That's Bonir with a long-E sound; boh-neer. I do not appreciate my name being mispronounced, and I assure you my dungeons are very big. I am the second son and the third and youngest child of Prince Cedric III, Duke of Averic and brother to His Majesty the King. My older brother Cedric was to inherit the duchy; as second son, the usual plan was for me to enter the Church. Unfortunately I had been dismissed as an altar boy at age ten for my pranks, and the Archbishop referred to me as "hopeless hooligan." My father could have called in some favors and still gotten me into a favorable monastery, but decided that he would see if sending me to the military might not straighten me out. At the age of 12 I was sent to the capitol to train as a knight in the army of the king. I astonished them all with my skill and dedication; at 16 I was recognized as full knight and my father asked me to come home. But all was peaceful in the west, while in the east invaders threatened to encroach on royal lands; I decided instead to remain in the service of the king as a member of the elite guard. That's how it was that I was elsewhere when a plague swept through my ancestral lands, taking my father and older brother with it. I was studying tactics and strategy with Sir Langdon, the leader of the King's guard, with the hope of someday perhaps being in the same position and protecting my cousin when he became king. Sir Langdon was pleased with my quick study and had taken me under his wing, giving me responsibilities usually not assigned to junior knights. I was just riding back into camp from a reconnaissance run with three fellow knights to find Sir Langdon waiting for me. "Prince Bonir!" he announced. "Please speak with me in my tent at once." "Yes sir, certainly sir," I replied reflexively, but my mind was racing—I knew something was amiss. Sir Langdon never referred to me by my title; some of the men in my unit didn't even know I had connections to the royal family. I hastily handed my reins over to my page and hurried to his tent. "You wished to see me sir?" I asked as I entered. Sir Langdon, was wearing only his breastplate, and I could see sadness in his eyes. "Bonir," he said quietly, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I have received sad news. While you have been away a plague has swept through Averic. Your father and your brother both fell victim. I am sorry." My eyes widened. Taken? My father and my brother were dead? "You must return to your homelands at once—you are now the Duke of Averic." He pronounced solemnly. I was dumbfounded. "But...I...I haven't completed my training here!" I stammered, thinking a million thoughts at once. "No, but you have learned much, and now your people need you," he said. "I, too, thought that perhaps you might someday replace me—but such is not God's will. You have been chosen to rule the Province of Averic. And with your military training—perhaps God has chosen you to someday lead the defense of the realm against some forthcoming enemy. Go now, and do what God has willed you to do." And then he did something that really shook me. He bowed his head and ended with "My lord." "Sir," I interjected, "you shall always be my superior officer, I..." "You are the Duke of Averic," Sir Langdon interrupted, "and I am just Captain of the Guard," he continued more gently. In his wisdom, Sir Langdon had purposefully bowed to my title to help me get used to the fact that I was now, in fact, a Duke. I pursed my lip as I thought about that. Sir Langdon smiled, seeing that I had understood what he was trying to do. "Your quickness to comprehend will serve you well, Prince Bonir. Oh and one more thing...The head of guard in Averic, Sir Jauffrey—he's a good sort. We went through much of our training together. You can trust him." As I left the tent to pack up my things, I thought about why Sir Langdon had emphasized him the way he had, and I realized that I had been away from the court for more than five years—I had no idea who I could trust and who I could not in the court. The people I thought I could count on, my brother and father, were no more, and I had no idea if my sister and mother lived or not. Now I knew that if nothing else, I could trust Sir Jauffrey. Many of the other knights in the guard came to see why I was packing up; I spoke with them cordially but briefly. It was seven days ride to Castle Averic, and in the meantime my people were without a lord and undoubtedly reeling from the effects of the plague—I needed to get back as quickly as possible. Sir Langdon and a few of the other knights formally saluted me as I rode out of camp. I raised my hand to acknowledge in the fashion I had always seen my father, then saluted back, then raised my hand again. The message was understood: I may be a Duke now, but also I will always be one of the Elite Guard. As I rode across the countryside, I thought about Sir Langdon's wisdom, and hoped that I could counsel with him at some future date, when I had a better understanding of the state of my province. Alas, such was not to be. As I raced across the land, the plague and I passed each other in the night. The plague was over in Averic by the time I arrived, but it was just starting to hit in the east. Within a week of my departure the province where we had been camped was overwhelmed by it. Half of the elite guard, including Sir Langdon, were felled by an enemy even the best armor could not protect against. --------------------- As I rode up to the city gate, the guards recognized me. Hastily the bugler was summoned and as I rode through town I heard the royal anthem played, signifying the arrival of the lord. The drawbridge was already down when I arrived at the castle, and swiftly I rode in and dismounted. A contingent of guards came up to me immediately. "My lord," one of them said as the all bowed. "Are you Sir Jauffrey?" I snapped. "Yes, m'lord," he replied, straightening. "Sir Langdon sends his regards," I replied, giving him the salute of the Elite Guard. Jauffrey was a bit taken aback at first, but realized this was a sign—a secret signal of sorts. When he returned the salute, I said "come...you must fill me in on what has all happened..." Under my father's reign, the guard had only been consulted for military and defense matters, and others had advised on other issues. But he and I were both veterans of the Elite Guard, and he realized that because of that I would, at least initially, be counting on him for much more than that. "Well, the plague killed almost half of the people of the town..." he began. "Boney!" cried a high-pitched voice, yelling the nickname I had worn as a child. I turned and saw my sister Elizabeth running toward me, well, as close to running as a full-length dress would allow. Two things struck me at once. First, I had never seen Elizabeth run, not even as children. And second, she looked absolutely frazzled. "Boney! Thank God you're here!" she cried, coming up and hugging me. I stood stiffly as she hugged me. This would not do. Elizabeth had been bred since birth to be a princess or perhaps even a queen; from the cradle on she had been instructed in nothing but etiquette. Sensing my reaction, she drew back, realizing she was not acting "proper." "Dear sister," I said stiffly, "I am glad to see, truly overjoyed to learn that you yet live. But I am the Duke of this province, no longer a child of seven. I will not allow the people hear you treat me as one, one way or the other." That snapped her back into protocol. "Yes, my lord," she said, curtseying. "You do not need to address me formally except in the council chambers," I replied more softly, "but you must understand that I am now your lord, not you little brother." Elizabeth nodded—but unfortunately looked even more shaken. "Come," I said, heading in to the keep. "Tell me, what has become of Mother?" "She lives," Elizabeth replied, "but is weak and frail. Since Father's funeral she hasn't left her bed." "I see," I said solemnly. "I should go back to attend to her further..." she replied, desperately wanting to get away after embarrassing herself in the courtyard. "By all means," I replied, "I expect you can fill me in on the details at dinner." "Yes, m'l..." she began, and began to curtsey. I put my finger over her lip to hush her. She stood back up uncertainly, and I gave her a more formal, more appropriate embrace. "It's good to see you sis," I whispered into her ear, "but we MUST maintain decorum in front of the people!" I could feel some of the tension in Elizabeth release when I said it—I'm sure everything we'd ever done to each other as children flashed through her mind, and she feared reprisals. My informal comments reassured her I was still myself—only now I had a role to play. And if there was one thing she understood, it was the importance of decorum. "Yes," she replied, more sure of herself now, "I shall look forward to conversing with you at dinner. Until then..." and she took her leave. "What has happened to her?" I asked Jauffrey. "She has been trying to run the province—but has not done well," Jauffrey replied. "It's not her fault, she was raised for queening, not for governing. Every little problem seems to threaten her very sanity, and she changes her mind time and again. I see her agonizing over what is the right thing to do, and the fact is, she just has no way to know." "I see," I replied. "I hope to fare better—but I will rely on you, Jauffrey, to help me understand what I have inherited. I do not know most of my father's advisors, so I do not yet know who speaks the truth and who seeks personal gain." "Understood, my lord," he replied. This was not something he expected, but I also sensed relief. I expect that he had plenty of opinions on just such matters—and was for the first time being given the opportunity to air them. "So, what is the most pressing thing that needs to be done?" I asked. "The dungeons, sire," he replied without hesitation. "There has been no court of justice held since your father the Duke fell ill. Many people, some likely innocent, have been held in the dungeons for weeks without trial. We haven't meted out any punishments of course, but just being held down there for weeks is torture in itself." "Very well," I replied, "lead the way to the dungeon." ---------------------- With a small cadre of guards, I went from cell to cell. Most of the minor crimes were not difficult to come up with equitable solutions for; many the time served was sufficient punishment for the crime. Those I could not decide right away for lack of evidence I simply delayed. "There are others," Jauffrey said, "but they are more...difficult, and so they are held in special cells." "Oh?" I asked. "This one, for instance," he said, opening the door, "is accused of witchcraft." I was not prepared for what I saw when I entered. The special cells were much larger and held implements of various types; the purpose of some of them I had no interest in guessing. But I barely noticed those differences, for my eyes were drawn in by the prisoner. The previous prisoners had all been chained to the walls of their cells, but the woman in this cell was chained to the floor in a kneeling position, her arms stretched over her head and chained to a beam above her head. The previous prisoners had all been regular peasants, dressed in simple and sometimes in tattered clothing. But this woman was dressed the likes of which I had never seen—there were little strips of leather covering her breasts, held in place by thin straps that went around her torso and shoulders (I later learned it was called a "bra" and was a recent import from France). An even smaller strip of cloth covered her nether regions—and that was all. I had known at some level that I would learn things about my father that I had never known, and not all of them would be pleasant. But this suggested an...interest...of my father's the like of which I had never considered. "What is her name?" I asked. "Eve," came the reply. She had long, straight, black hair that had been at some point carefully combed, and her pale skin was nowhere near as mottled by dirt and grime as the common peasants I had seen earlier—I guessed she must be a "townie." She appeared weak, barely able to keep herself upright, half-hanging from the irons on her wrists. Although her breasts thrust out proudly, defiantly, yet I could easily count every rib in her sides. "When's the last time this prisoner has been fed?" I snapped. There was an awkward silence. Jauffrey finally stumbled "The prison guards...are...afraid of witches..." "She is not a witch until I say she is a witch!" I exploded. "There is no excuse for starving an untried prisoner to death. Fetch some bread at once!" Two guards bumped into each other snapping to attention to fulfill the command before deciding between them which would fetch and which would stay. I knew then that the rumors would be starting before he even returned that things would be different around here. That would be a good thing, I thought. This interchange seemed to spark something in Eve. She mustered up the effort to kneel upright and then mumbled something. I stepped in closer to hear what her faltering voice had said. "Mercy, my lord," she repeated. And then she drew on an inner strength and craned her neck towards me. Chained on her knees, she was eye-level with my crotch. When she reached for me, I thought she meant to bite my pisser. The guards reached for their swords, but I, fresh from service in the Elite guard, had my dagger out and at her throat before they could unsheathe their swords. But the girl did not recoil from the touch of steel at her throat; rather she looked up and into my eyes as she slowly inched closer to me. She did not look to be meaning me harm—yes, she was possibly a witch, but in truth when I was in the Elite Guard we had been called in on many suspected witch cases, and I had yet to see incontrovertible evidence that such things even existed. Upon arriving I had removed most of my armor, such that I was wearing my breastplate and the loose, coarse fabric pants that I wore under my greaves to reduce chafing. A simple string held up my pants—by the time you removed the armor, in the event you had to go, you were usually in quite a hurry by the time you got to the underarmor. Eve must have known something about Knight's clothing, for she seemed to be searching the string. Finding it, she clenched her teeth on it and pulled. It was simply tied, not knotted (pants don't fall down under armor plate!) so she was able to loosen them with just one pull. I wasn't sure what she was doing, but I had an idea. Upon reaching the rank of knight the men of the company took me out of the town, including a visit to one of the capital's best brothels, and what I thought she might be doing was what they had termed the "French style." So although my better sense told me to back away, I was also acutely aware that my staff was quickly rising, almost as if it was straining to reach her just as she strained to reach me. She reached out with her tongue, just able to reach the underside of my member as she strained against the chains. The warm gentle touch sent shivers up my spine. I took a step closer and put some space between my dagger and her neck. Now able to reach me, she opened her mouth wide and took me in. I had not purchased the "French style," but I certainly was impressed with it so far. Her eyes watched me, looking for any sign of not liking or especially liking anything she was doing." She was literally sucking for her life. With her arms chained overhead, her mobility was quite limited. But she could slide me in and out of her mouth, caress me with her tongue, squeeze me with her lips. It was exquisite. My penis was so engorged I wondered it didn't explode as it strained to obtain as much of the pleasurable sensation as possible. She kept sucking for all she was worth. She loosened her lips for a moment and danced her tongue along the length of my pole. It was nice, but not as nice as when she enveloped me in her mouth. Ahhh...she stopped licking and swallowed my length again. My hips started to sway gently in time with her head-bobbing, driving me deeper into her mouth. In my pleasurable reverie, I had forgotten the guards were there—until I heard Jauffrey moving. He came around behind her, which distracted me; I was suddenly aware that this didn't seem very appropriate. My little fellow started to get soft; sucking me to help obtain my good graces, Eve doubled her pace so she didn't "lose me." But Jauffrey was just being helpful; he reached down and undid something on the prisoner's bra, after which it hung loosely in place. He pulled the fabric up her arms, but of course could not take it off without unchaining her wrists. Instead, he pulled it over her head, then settled it back down, but with the cups behind her head. Having exposed her breasts, he looked down and returned to his position behind me. Eve's eyes had grown desperate when I had looked away; now that I wasn't looking straight at the captain of my guard, the pleasurable sensations quickly restored what momentarily had been lost. Her eyes again begged for mercy, and in her mind it was only if she could pleasure me that she hoped to influence my decision. Truth was, she wasn't going to influence my decision, because there was no way I was going to hand her over to anyone without hearing the evidence first—but she didn't know that. I could have stepped back and announced my intention then and there, avoiding any rumors as to how my decisions might be influenced—but the shivers running up my spine from her exquisite efforts kept me rooted to the spot. She sucked very well, and I hadn't forced this on her; I really didn't want to walk away. Suddenly it dawned on me that the way Jauffrey had helpfully exposed the prisoner's breasts suggested it might not be the first time he had done something of the sort. I realized that the entire setup of the cell seemed to suggest that it had been built with something other than torture in mind. I had a vision of my father forcing his penis down a prisoner's throat, and my own member began to recoil yet again. But my attention returned to the here and now when Eve, sensing me slipping away again, attempted to swallow my entire length. She was forced to spit out right away, but the novel sensations from the narrow back of her throat had me back where she wanted. That was fine with me. I looked down and watched her suck me. As she sucked, her now bare breasts gently rocked in rhythm with her bobbing head. I realized that I could just reach them with my fingers, and realized that this was what Jauffrey had anticipated. I responded to their enticements and stroked her breasts. They felt wonderful. While she kept sucking, I became more and more enamored of them. I grasped them more firmly now, so both hands were overflowing with tit. Then I pinched her nipples gently between my middle and index finger and rubbed them back and forth. Every new exploration I liked better than the last. I looked back at her face for a moment; she was still watching me intently, but had a somewhat more confident look. If I was playing with her tits, she had the attention she needed, it was now just a matter of staying the course and her objective would be met. I returned my attention to the breasts in my hands. I was quickly growing quite fond of this "French style," but receiving those ministrations while holding her firm, young breasts in my hands was that much better. I kept gazing downward, but my eyes drifted out of focus as I paid rapt attention to the sensations arriving from my fingertips and my sex. Prince Bonir Vol. 01 At length I became aware of new sensation, like my family jewels were tightening up. Somehow the prisoner sensed this, because she redoubled her efforts. I felt the climax begin deep in my sac, followed by the spasms that sent waves of pleasure through every fiber of my being. "Ugh," I grunted involuntarily, the rest of my body stiffening so as to provide a solid base from which my penis could emit its projectiles as far as possible. As it was, their trip was short, for the prisoner held my penis halfway in her mouth while I unloaded my cargo. When she could tell that no more spasms were coming, she swallowed what I had given her and proceeded to lick any sticky residue off of my member with her tongue. I had meant for the prisoner to be fed; I had not intended that I feed her myself—but my seed was undoubtedly the first thing in her belly in quite some time. Gradually my sense of where I was returned. I put away my dagger and pulled my pants back on. I snuck a peek at my guard, expecting to see disapproving or shocked expressions, but all I saw was stoic faces. Either they were exceedingly well trained, or this was something they had seen before. I couldn't help but suspect the latter. Only now the guard that had went to fetch some bread returned—he had had to run all the way to the royal kitchen. I motioned for the guard to unbind the prisoner's left hand, then handed her the bread so she could eat. She tore into it as only a starving person could. It also gave me an opportunity to find out more about standard operating procedures. "What do we usually do with suspected witches?" I asked. "We usually send them to the Church," Jauffrey replied. "And what does the Church do with them" I asked further. "They torture them endlessly until they die in unspeakable agony!" the prisoner interrupted through a mouth full of bread. "Is this true?" I asked Jauffrey. "That would be one way to look at it, I suppose," he answered. "The priests say that can only save the witch's soul by torturing the demons out of her body." "And how does a woman prove that she is not a witch?" I questioned pointedly. "I am quite sure that everyone that is so accused will say they are not." "Hmm, well, yes," Jauffrey pondered, "that would seem to be rather difficult." "So all I need to do is claim someone is a witch, hand her over to the church, and they will torture her to death?" I could not believe what I was hearing. "Umm, well, yes," he answered uncomfortably. Funny, it sounded different when I said it then when the Archbishop did. "Bring me this woman's accuser," I replied, "and we shall hear what both have to say. If we find that she is a witch, then we shall handle her punishment. It is my duty in this province to decide guilt and innocence, and I will not abdicate that responsibility to the Church or anyone else." Addressing the prisoner now, I said "you shall have your day in court, and soon. Spend this time thinking of your defense and how you will answer any accusations brought against you." I turned to leave, but as I left I said to one of the guards "and for God's sake, let the woman stand up for while." -------------------- Jauffrey's men were more efficient than I expected; next morning Eve stood before her accuser. I was asked how I wished her to be presented. "Well, certainly let her wear something more than she is wearing now," I replied. "Yes sir," he replied, "we have a robe we usually use." "What manner of robe?" I asked suspiciously. "It's black, with a hood..." he began... "I see...so when a woman stands accused of witchcraft we force her to wear a robe that makes her look as a witch to her trial. Now how does that serve the ends of justice?" I was beginning to see that the rest of the world didn't follow the same code of honor as did the knights of the realm. "What was she wearing when she was arrested?" "With all due respect, sir, any such garments would by now be lost or perhaps even stolen," he answered with trepidation. "Yes, or course they would be—being called witch is a one-way ticket to the grave, is it not?" An awkward silence followed. "I am frustrated by how things go here, Jauffrey, but do not misunderstand, I do not blame you for them. I appreciate and indeed depend on your telling me how things really are in such matters," I replied. "Fetch her clothing as a woman of the town would wear." Once a green gown was found and she was put in it, the trial began. Her accuser was a rotund, middle-aged shopkeeper of the town who had been her employer. He claimed to have become increasingly concerned about actions he observed, although all of them could have happened for any number of reasons—I suspected his main reason for thinking her a witch was her long black hair. But then he delivered his clincher: "and then, one night, I saw her in the moonlight on the hillside. She had dismembered a sheep, and was rooting around in its entrails for materials for her evil spells!" "Is this true?" I turned to Eve. She looked downward. "I came upon a sheep that had been slain and half-eaten by a wolf. My coming must have scared him off." "What were you doing on the hillside at night?" I asked. "I was going to the big tree to...meet someone." "To meet whom?" I asked suspiciously. "I had a lover who was in the guard," she said quietly. "And this guardsman can confirm this?" I challenged. "Alas, no," she said sadly, "he died in the plague, or he would be here defending my honor." Hmm. Seemed like this girl was just having one bad thing after another happen to her. If anyone was cursed by a witch, it was her! "Why did you stop by the sheep?" I continued. "I wished to see if any of its intestines remained. I had heard they could be used to...make something," she said haltingly. "Aha!" the accuser interjected, "she admits it!" "I am quite certain that the making of haggis does not involve witchcraft," I snarled, "and yet does require the use of the internal organs of sheep. I am holding this hearing, and if you interrupt me again, it is you that will be sent to the dungeon!" Total silence filled the chamber. Turning back to Eve, I asked "and what is it that you wished to make from the sheep's intestines?" "It...it is something called a sheath, sir," she said falteringly. I noted a slight flush of embarrassment cross her cheeks. "A sheath? For a sword?" I asked. "Not quite, my lord. It...it is a very sensitive matter, my lord. I beg of you, allow me explain in private quarters." She was staring at me with those pleading eyes, the same look she had when she was sucking me in hope for mercy. "Very well," I replied testily. I sense she would not ask such favor idly, but did not wish to seem weak in front of the court. "You have five minutes to explain yourself." I motioned for Jauffrey to come, and the guardsman assigned to Eve escorted her to the private chamber. When she was brought in. "What is this sheath that you cannot explain in public?" "It is a barrier, m'lord," she explained nervously, "for use in intercourse. As I hear it, it allows a woman to be with her lover without the risk of conceiving." Well, that would explain the privacy—if the townspeople learned that she even knew of such a thing, she would be branded a harlot for life. And yet I had a hard time imagining how a sheep's intestine could protect a woman from a man's seed. "I find that hard to fathom, but that does not mean it is not so. If you can produce such a device, I shall believe you. What do you need?" "A sheep's intestine that has been soaked to remove the insides, and a bit of fine thread," she replied. I sent one of the guards to the kitchen, although I doubted we had sheep's intestines just sitting around. I went out and announced to the court "The prisoner has described to me a device constructed in part out of sheep's intestine. I shall give her the opportunity to prove that she speaks truth by whether or not she is able to create the device she described. If she can, she shall be exonerated from all charges. If she cannot, we shall treat her as a witch. Court is now closed." I went back to the private apartments as the chamber cleared out. Eve was fortunate that day; the kitchen had already been soaking some intestines for use as casings for some sausage they wanted to make. Eve was led to a table and told to prove her word was true. She took the intestines, floating in a bowl of water, and fished around until she found an end. She gently poked with nimble fingers until she was able to separate the collapsed membrane and return it to its original, round shape. Then she very deftly began to roll the membrane up into itself, producing a gradually thickening ring. After rolling up some length, she then measured an inch or two further down the end and cut the intestine. Carefully sitting it down on its round base, she folded the top over, then tied the folded end closed with a knotted thread. When it was done, it looked like a miniature hat, like a jester might wear. "And how is this device supposed to work?" I wondered aloud. "I will demonstrate, if my lord so wishes," she said demurely. I nodded. The guards were all watching intently as she stood up and walked over to me—they wanted to see this, too. Eve came up to me and meekly knelt before me. I was quickly growing fond of seeing her in that position. Although my Duke's tunic and hose were not as easily removed as my underarmor had been, Eve had both hands to work with this time. She gently pulled the hose down to my knees, the looked up at me while she stuck out her tongue, licked my balls and started working her way up, eventually reaching the tip—a trip that was twice as long as it had been when it commenced. Then she focused on my crotch and took my length gently into her mouth, caressing it with her tongue, sucking. Her hands free, she held on to the back of my legs as she released me, then enveloped me again, each time trying to force my manhood deeper and deeper into her own throat. It felt so good my knees threatened to buckle—but I couldn't just let her suck her way out of this. But it felt so good, I couldn't bring myself to tear myself away. I closed my eyes and reveled in the pleasurable sensations of the moment. She sucked me, focusing her attention not on me but on my crotch, doing everything she knew to make it feel good. But when I felt my stones wanting to tighten up, I knew I had to stop. I pushed her away, saying "That's all well and good, but what does this have to do with your device?" I demanded. "Of course, my lord," she replied, standing, looking at me with a hint of twinkle in her dark eyes. "If you would be so good as to come over to the table." I pulled my hose hastily and walked over. She was gently handling the sheath as she called it that she had made. I stopped next to her and she again pulled my hose down. Although I was still fully erect, she caressed me with her mouth a few more times anyway. Then she took the sheath and placed it over the tip of my little man. Once snugly in place, she unrolled the edges, so that my manhood was encased in the membrane as snug as any stocking. I looked down at myself with interest—the sheath stayed put. She had described it as a barrier, and I could see why. But it was so thin, I could barely sense it was present at all. As soon as I was "sheathed," Eve stood up. She reached for her skirts and pulled them up to her hips. Then she felt under and untied her undergarments, allowing them to fall to the floor. She sat on the edge of the table, then lay back fully onto it, with her hips right at the edge. She pulled her legs up and to the sides, leaving her nether regions completely exposed. She reached down with her hands, stroking herself pleasurably with one while working to part the labia with the other. In no time an inviting pink opening was plain to see. Any thoughts my Johnson had of softening quickly faded. "I am ready for you to test the sheath, my lord," she announced. Watching her expose her most private parts to me, it crossed my mind briefly that this woman may have been a harlot. But I decided I should reserve judgment. She was in a position of having to choose between her virtue and her life—I had no reason to believe that she was always this...open. Still somewhat apprehensive, but much more so aroused, I brought my sheathed member over to the proffered opening and gently pushed. There was some initial resistance, as she had not yet fully moistened herself. But with a little additional effort on each of our parts the walls parted and I was inside her. I watched as my white-sheathed little general disappeared into her and then reappeared. "It's...amazing!" I exclaimed, so surprised at how well this worked that I was very nearly distracted from what I was doing with it. "I can barely feel that it's there, yet I definitely can feel the warmth and pressure of the orifice." I slipped it in and out with more force, but no matter how hard I thrust, it went with me. "And it stays on me, even as I move in and out," I added incredulously. The guards were curious—they knew not to move closer, but they craned to see for themselves that the sheath really worked. It did not feel exactly the same as I remembered it, however, and I realized it was in large part because I could not feel the wetness—that was what made the "French style" so pleasing. But Eve was sharp; she knew she had proven her story, but even more she knew that it would help her case if she brought me to climax again. I felt her hips rising and her internal muscles squeezing, trying to replace some of what the sheath took away. There were also plenty of distractions here, even more so than in the dungeon; Eve knew she needed to help me focus my attention, so she began frantically untying the stays of her bodice until it was loose enough that she could pull it back and display her bare breasts. They were wonderful. I'd held them before, of course, but with the much better light and their "sunny side up" position, they were astoundingly beautiful. Soft mounds of white flesh, with tender pink tips that strained straight up. I bend over to kiss them, continuing my thrusting as best I could; Eve merely laid flat on her back again and grasped her knees to help keep herself open for me. My heart was really racing now. It's one thing to taste the soft flesh of the breast; it's another to do so while already submerged in her birth canal. I put my arms down on the table at her sides and began to thrust with purpose. Again she flashed her dark eyes at me, but they spoke differently this time; they wanted me to obtain that which I was already so close to achieving, but they also told me that she, too, felt pleasure from this. And I would like to think that she also felt some sense of attraction, not just because I would now almost certainly keep her out of the clutches of the Church, but because I was man that could be counted on. I continued to thrust in and out; the sheath continued to thrust with me. I stopped for a second to pull her hips back towards the edge of the table; bit by bit, I had pushed her several inches across the table surface. I resumed my cadence. As I continued to partake of her, I noticed that her breathe became shallower, and her cheeks began to take on a slight flush. Even without the direct sensation because of the sheath, I sensed that she was very well lubricated at this point. Then once again, I was taken in by her eyes. She was looking at me, breathing heavily. I was suddenly struck by the contrast; at the brothel, the girls would always close their eyes or look at the ceiling while you did your business, and as often as not they just flopped their arms up over their heads on the pillow. Eve was not a passive recipient; her hips were moving, her eyes were making contact, her arms were actively parting her thighs for me. It was so much more intense of an experience it was almost an entirely different thing. We locked gazes, and her face seemed to say "please, I want you to climax." And that very thought seemed to trigger exactly that result. I pushed myself in as deeply as I could, holding it while pleasurable spasms washed over me. I quickly pulled back and then in again, holding it, while more followed. Eve had closed her eyes; it seemed she was concentrating on the unique sensations of my ejaculations as they felt from the receiving end. After the last wave passed, I stood there for a second to catch my breath, trying to commit to memory as much of this intensely pleasurable episode as possible. Eve, however, reacted immediately. "Be careful when you take it out!" she warned. "Hmm?" I grunted. I was still lost on planet bliss. "Hold the end tight when you pull it out," she instructed. I wasn't quite sure what she meant, so she sat up and did it for me; she gripped the end of the sheath against my rapidly shrinking John Thomas as she removed it from herself. It was immediately obvious why—I hadn't realized how quickly I shrank after climax, but the sheath which had held tight so admirably during the action now slipped easily off of my penis. "If you don't take it off right, you defeat the whole purpose." She sat up, holding the intact sheath which now resembled a dead eel. Reaching for a wine glass that earlier had been hastily shoved aside, and held the sheath upside down over it. White fluid rushed out of the sheath. "So you see, m'lord," she said with a sense of victory. "The sheath can be employed as a successful barrier between a man and woman to prevent contraception." "Indeed, you have proven your point most admirably," I replied, trying to regain my Dukely demeanor. "Jauffrey, please call the court back to order in ten minutes so that I might give my final verdict." Jauffrey went off to assemble the court. Eve was lacing her bodice back up. "I will declare you innocent of all charge of course," I said, "but in court you said that your lover died in the plague." She nodded distantly. "I'm sorry to hear that," I continued. "What will you do when you are free to leave?" She shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I certainly won't be going back to my old job, my lover is gone, and most of my family is gone as well. I have an uncle in a farm near the border, I suppose I'll head there until I figure something out." "These...sheathes of yours...they seem like they could be very useful to have around." I said vaguely. Now dressed again, she stood up straight and looked me in the eye. "Indeed, my lord, especially for a man in your position." "But I would need someone to make them..." I hinted. "I could show your staff. You saw for yourself, it's rather simple." "Sometimes a true artisan can make difficult things appear easy. I was thinking perhaps that you could continue to make them for me...as a member of my household." She was clearly startled. She had never dreamed of receiving an invitation like that. "Of course, you may do whatever you wish," I continued. "If you wish to go out to the countryside with your uncle..." "No," she interrupted quickly lest the offer be withdrawn. "I...I would be honored to be one of your servants, my lord." "Excellent," I continued, "we shall see to getting you a room at once. It shall be your responsibility to ensure there is a supply of sheathes on hand at all times. There will likely be other duties as well, but the production of sheathes is your responsibility alone." "Yes m'lord," she said, face brightening into almost a smile for the first time that I had ever seen. "Thank you, m'lord." "Oh, and for the time being, I will need you to do one other task as well," I said as an afterthought. "Yes, m'lord?" "I shall need you to warm my bedchambers for me before I lie down for the night," I said. The way our eyes met, I knew she understood my meaning. Her dark eyes darted away, knowing and mischievous, understanding that she would be expected to demonstrate the efficacy of the sheath yet again on request. It did not seem that the lady objected to the assignment. She gave a little smile, but headed to the powder room to freshen her appearance for the final verdict. Prince Bonir Vol. 01 As for me, it took just a little straightening and no one would be wiser as to what had happened during the recess. I reached for a glass and took a sip of wine, feeling satisfied in more ways than one, passing time before heading out to make my final pronouncement. I had hoped to quickly establish an independent identity for myself as the new Duke, and with my novel handling of this case I surely would. And in less than three days as Duke, I had acquired my first concubine. Prince Bonir Vol. 02 Chapter #2: The Scarlet Witch The rustling next to me awakened me. Eve was sitting up, tossing back her long black hair, fumbling around on the ground for her servant's dress. Once an accused witch chained in my dungeon, she was now my concubine—and for all intents and purposes also head of the household, my primary liaison to the castle staff. "Good morning, my lord," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Sorry to wake you. I wanted to head down to the kitchen to see how the cooks were coming with your breakfast." She was carefully keeping her back to me while putting her clothes back on. She knew that were I to get a good look at her lovely, full breasts I might well end up waylaying her from her task—although I don't think that she realized that I was on to her in this regard. It was fine with it; as it was I partook of her charms nearly every day, sometimes more than once. "Yes, pray do," I said, "I'm famished." She nodded in acknowledgement, then cracked open the doors, peeking out and looking both ways. She must have only seen guards, for she quickly darted out of my private chamber and down the corridor. While my lying with Eve was not an uncommon event, her spending the entire night in my bed was. We both did not wish it to be common knowledge about the castle when it happened. Eve knew my mother and sister did not approve of my carnal affairs, and I saw nothing to be gained in showing my surviving gamily any of the overwhelming evidence that when my father had been the Duke he was no less generous with his seed—only perhaps a bit more discrete about it. I felt I had nothing to hide as I was unmarried—although when eventually there was a Duchess of Averic, she would need to accept that there would always be concubines in the household as well. As for Eve, my first and so far only concubine, I had no complaints, for she understood her standing perfectly. She was there for me when I wished for her. Were it not for me, she would either have been tortured to death as a witch or would have been a destitute citizen of the town, while as one of my, shall we say, favored servants she had a pretty good life in the castle. I knew that deep down, Eve longed to have me for herself, but she understood that this could never be. I think part of her attraction to me was that she admired my zealous attempts to bring the chivalric ideals of justice and fairness to the province. I would also like to think that, in part, it was because I had been part of the king's Elite Guard of knights until becoming Duke just a few weeks before. I was still muscular and lean from constant physical activity whilst wearing heavy armor. I hoped to avoid the portliness that comes of too little activity and too much feasting, such as my father had been. Most of the time Eve fulfilled her role perfectly, but some times, usually times where she had been particularly reactive to my lovemaking, to the point where I would feel tremors shaking the length of her body, she had a hard time disguising her desire to have me for herself. It was usually at those times that I took pity on her and asked her remain in my bed for the night. By morning, she invariably was able to regain her sense of decorum. Make no mistake, I was quite fond of Eve, but I had by chance fallen into a position that afforded me access to many a fair maiden, and I saw no reason not to make the most of that chance. In exchange, I told Eve that she was free to find a husband for herself, if she so chose, with the one stipulation: so long as she continue to serve in her current capacity, she was to lie with another lover only if employing a sheath. As for myself I usually wore one when having relations with her—but not always. ------------------ When I arrived at breakfast, my sister Elizabeth was lying in wait for me. Without looking up from her plate, she accused "I see you slept with that hussy again last night." I continued to my seat at the head of the table unmoved. "What I did or didn't do is none of your business, dear sister." I should have known that there was no sense in hiding it; by trusting Eve with many of my most sensitive tasks, I had leapfrogged her over many people in the household pecking order with much more seniority. I had no doubt there were plenty of jealous servants eager to tell the old guard of the castle when her chambers remained vacant for the night. "You mother is very upset by your...behavior," she replied, knowing mother's voice carried some weight where hers did not. "Then let her come and tell me so herself," I challenged. Perhaps I was being unfair, but I was not convinced that mother was truly unable to lift herself from her bed since my father passed—she merely chose not to. Elizabeth made a sour frown, still not looking at me directly. I couldn't tell if she shared my opinion regarding Mother's incapacity or not. "She says you should be looking for a Duchess, not parading around with trollops." "Perhaps you could then dance barefoot at the wedding?" I said snidely. The remark hit its target—I was not a sister, but it was still common practice to marry older children before younger ones. Had I not suddenly become Duke when my father and brother were taken by a plague, I would have been expected to delay marriage until Elizabeth had wed. Having made my point, I diverted the blade: "Besides, so long as mother resides in the Duchess' apartment, there would be no place to put one!" It was of course a silly argument in a castle this size, there could easily be two Duchess' apartments, but Elizabeth did not press the point. She had lost this round, but we both knew it was not the last this topic would come up. I decided I would be well-served to get Elizabeth more on my side. "Listen, Elizabeth, in all seriousness—you are one of the most important assets of the province. You are young and beautiful and of royal blood; you will make someone an excellent wife, and with it forge a strong blood alliance with another state. The same for when I take a Duchess, and I will. But we can marry but once—it makes no sense to rush into a union with no political advantage when we may need to forge alliances in the future. Our unmarried (to have said "chaste" in this situation would have been hypocritical) status is a powerful tool that must be used wisely and, in frank, tactically. We must save ourselves for Averic's need." She didn't say anything, but I could see her demeanor change. She liked to feel important, and I reminded her that indeed, she was. I knew that she personally objected to my taking concubines in large part because she knew I would not stop doing so after marriage, and imagined herself likewise having to a future husband that had no intention of remaining faithful to her. This was not the fairy tale picture she had been raised to try to attain. And, since she knew nothing of my father's exploits, she attributed this to a personal fault of mine. Perhaps it was, but it was a fault I was quite satisfied with. ------------------- After breakfast, it was straight to the grand hall for audiences. I was mediating a dispute between two neighbors involving a field of hay and a goat—for the third time. This sort of thing happened all the time, and besides, ultimately both were my property. But these two men had despised each other for a long time and tried to get the other taken away—and yet neither had take up any of numerous offers to be moved and work a different part of the lands. Both were trying to impress upon me how egregiously they had been wronged, and my patience was wearing thin. Just then there was commotion at the back of the hall. A group of about six peasants was dragging a frail feminine bundle of rags into the great hall. One of my guards was ostensibly escorting her, but in reality he was watching to try to keep the mini-mob from hurting her—or each other. Leading the way was a shopkeeper that I had already known thought himself very important, bellowing "A thief! This cur is a thief—and a witch! Burn the witch!" I sighed. Always it was witchcraft this and witchcraft that—it seemed every young woman accused of anything was right away accused of being a witch as well. Superstitious people, my vassals. I quickly disposed of the property dispute and stood to see what was being brought to me. With a great shove, the mob thrust the bundle of rags towards me, such that she fell at the foot of the stair below me. "What is this commotion that you dare disturb the Court of the Province of Averic?" I demanded. The shopkeeper bowed low, and assumed the exaggerated obedience with which he always addressed me. "Your Grace, Duke of Averic...this cur was caught stealing..." he droned on for a while... "And if that's not enough, the people of town have seen this demon practicing witchcraft about the town! Look...she even has the mark of the devil upon her." Right on cue, one of the mob pulled on the hood covering the ragamuffin's head. Although mottled and darkened with filth, her hair was unmistakably flame red. I sighed inside again. Stupid people...in the north, half the population has red hair, and in my experience the fairest maidens to a one bore scarlet locks. But down here red hair was rare, and since the devil's color was red, they concluded that red hair must be mark of the devil. I supposed I shouldn't be too smug, for these folk had never been outside of Averic in their lifetimes. "Please rise," I said blandly to the lump. Slowly she picked herself up, while the mob backed away, having done its self-appointed job of turning her over to me. But she kept staring straight down at the floor in front of her. "What is your name?" I asked. "Arianna," she replied in a barely audible whisper. "What do you have to say for yourself?" I asked. She continued to stare at the floor. "What? Have you nothing to say? Are these charges true?" She remained silent and motionless. "Guards, take her to the dungeon, we will hear what she has to say later." She was likely both shy and petrified; having this angry mob about was not going to help her find her tongue. But this was disappointing to the mob, who was hoping for a spectacle. "My lord, surely you will not just leave her go..." they said. "She shall have her day in court," I replied evenly, "but for now, there are other cases that were scheduled to be heard at this time...cases that you have interrupted. And I do not look favorably on interruptions." I called to Jauffrey to bring in the next case; fortunately there was one waiting and my ruse was not apparent. I really just wanted to diffuse the mob situation. I proceeded with the next case; the mob, grumbling, took its leave. Later in the day, I went to see Arianna in the dungeon. She was chained to the wall in a regular cell, not one of the special witch cells my father—or perhaps his father before him?—had built. I went to talk to her, but she continued to stare at the floor. I could sense her trembling inside, but it was the poison of utter despair that ate her tongue. I gave up, and returned to my chambers. I spent much time that evening trying to decide how I could get this girl to at least speak up on her own behalf. Unfortunately, time was not on my side. Next morning, the same mob returned, only now twice the size and escorting the Archbishop. "Your Excellency," I said coldly, rising to my feet. "Your Grace," he replied disingenuously, bowing as little as decorum would permit. "To what do I owe the privilege?" I asked with a subtle sarcasm that the mob did not pick up on, but the Archbishop did. "I understand that you are holding a certain witch in your dungeons," he replied. "Witches are possessed of Satan, and therefore her case is the domain of the church." "She has been accused of crimes," I returned, "and thus her case is the domain of the state." "But you refuse to hear her case," he countered. "And the church cannot allow a demon to remain in our midst." While I had ultimate authority here, it did me no good to wield that hammer and be seen as an enemy of the Church. I was going to have to go ahead with her case, ready or not. "On the contrary," I replied, "I will be hearing her case this very morning. You are welcome to stay if you wish." "We are very interested to hear the case, yes, thank you," the Archbishop answered hollowly. I turned and called Eve over. "Take Arianna, and clean her up a little. Put her in some decent clothes and then bring her to me." Eve nodded and set off to fulfill my commands. I had a few little orders of business to attend to; I stalled by asking lots of questions that I already knew the answers to. Finally Eve reappeared at the side door, so I knew Arianna was ready. "And now let us hear the case of Arianna, accused of thievery and witchcraft." I announced. Two guards led the small figure, made smaller by her hunched posture, before me. But with her red hair washed and combed, falling as it did in natural curls, and in a respectable dress rather than simple rags, she was now downright beautiful. I watched several of the mob doing double takes at the sight, perhaps second-guessing their own actions. "You are accused of the acts of thievery and witchcraft," I proclaimed, but all the while I was adamantly trying to make eye contact with her. "How do you plead?" She continued to stare at the floor. Damnation, I thought, how am I going to help you if you will not help yourself! "See? The devil takes her tongue even now!" the shopkeeper blurted triumphantly. I glared at him, and he immediately shrunk back to his place. My intolerance for outbursts at court was quickly becoming common knowledge. "If she will not talk now, the inquisitors have ways to make her talk," the Archbishop reminded. That was what I was trying to prevent—but she was not doing anything to help herself. Had I had time I would have tried to reason with her, but this mob hadn't given me the chance. "If you do not answer, the court will consider that you do not dispute the charges and will act accordingly," I said. "For the last time, what do you have to say for yourself." Still she said nothing, but I could see she could barely keep her composure, and was nearing tears. Tears! I thought. That's it! Witches aren't supposed to be able to cry! If I can make her cry, I can disprove the accusation of witchcraft—and the Archbishop is right here to verify! Right then and there I decided on a somewhat risky course of action, almost like a game of chicken. But I held out hope that I could succeed in getting her to cry before actually doing her egregious bodily harm. "Very well!" I announced. "The accused does not contest the charges of thievery and witchcraft. We shall deal with this at once. Guards!" I had never acted like this, but by now my guards trusted that whatever I did I did for a reason. "Fetch the thickest rope you can find—and as many bullwhips as you carry," I said to one. Then sending him off, I said "Come!" and marched off down the center aisle. We were a motley parade. I in the lead, striding with exaggerated grandeur. The poor waif trudging behind, pushed by two guards. Then the Archbishop and the rest of the mob, and finally Eve and the rest of my household staff. I marched up to a thickest oak tree in the courtyard. Arianna was marched right up to the tree. As we waited for the implements to arrive, I spoke to her, sounding as mean and cruel as I could muster. "You devil, you think that you can run amok in our towns? In the Province of Averic we do not stand for such evildoing! You shall pay for your wickedness with your very flesh!" Damnation, she was still too stoic! She was quivering, but still no tears came. Cry, damn you, I thought. The guard returned with the rope and a number of whips. "Tie her to the tree!" I commanded. Her wrists were seized and wrapped around either side of the tree, then tied together on the other side. Directly into her ear, I said "Now you shall see what we do with witches!" And with that I grabbed her dress and tore it completely asunder down to her buttocks, then tore it to the side so that her entire back was bared. Why don't you cry? I thought. I really didn't want to see this girl get hurt, but she refused to help herself. I had one last chance to break through. I stood sideways to the girl and grabbed her chin with my hand, forcibly pulling it so that she had no choice but to face me. "Punish this witch," I said, while staring directly into her eyes coldly "whip her, and continue to whip her until her entire back is as crimson as the hair on her head!" I don't know if it was the fact that she finally had to make eye contact with me, or the very real anticipation of the pain she was about to suffer, but at last her lip trembled and her composure failed. Come on! I thought. "What...you think you can repent now? You should have thought of that before you committed your crimes!" I yelled. And with that, finally, a tear rolled down her cheek. At last. "Wait...what is this?" I said suddenly in an altogether different demeanor. "Archbishop?" I said, gesturing for him to come over. Puzzled, he came over to the tree. When he was close enough to see, I scooped up the tear, and tasted it to confirm its saltiness. The Archbishop now saw what I did, and knew what it meant. There were now more tears, so he too captured and tasted one. His frown told me that he knew it was a tear. "Do we agree on what we are seeing?" I asked. He nodded glumly. "As the Archbishop does attest, the prisoner cries!" I proclaimed loudly. "And as everyone knows, witches are incapable of tears. Thus, while the lady does not speak on her own behalf, we must conclude that the lady is NOT a witch!" Turning to the guard, I said. "Untie her from this tree, then bring her to me in the great hall. She must still answer to the charges of thievery!" And with that I strode away. The guards would have brought her to me straightaway, but Eve knew that I would not want to see her dressed in the tatters she was in, so she re-outfitted her before bringing her to me. Again she looked down, but was softer this time; what was happening was not following the script she had envisioned. "You are a tough nut to crack!" I began informally. She was really not expecting that. She looked up sharply towards me. "I almost couldn't get you to cry soon enough to prevent your receiving bodily harm. Yes, my entire intent in staging this show was to bring you to tears, not to despoil your flesh. And I almost failed." Arianna's jaw dropped open slightly; it had never have occurred to her that the Duke would NOT want to punish her. "Tell me, why did you not raise your voice in your own defense?" "I...I was afraid, my lord," she said falteringly. "I should think so, you very nearly got yourself whipped to death! And still you did not speak!" "I..." she trailed off. Suddenly I had an idea. "Where are you from?" I asked her. "I...I am not from here..." she said sadly, again looking down at the floor. Of course—she was indentured to another landowner. Little wonder she had little to say, and felt she had no standing in the court. "Why are you not where you belong?" I asked gently. "I lived with my family in Barcos, but...there was this Captain of the Guard...he kept hounding me, trying to force me to do...unladylike things with him. Then he started arranging so that my family didn't get it's share of food. My whole family was starving because I wouldn't give my chastity to the Captain of the Guard, but I had seen what happened to other maidens who he had taken an eye to once he tired of them. So I decided that in order to save my family, I needed to run away," she explained. "And so you escaped to Averic," I summarized. She nodded. "A fortnight's hence. But I soon learned I could not obtain any sort of work without the proper approval of Your Grace, and of course I didn't have that. So I wandered around the town aimlessly. I was so hungry...I saw some bread and fruit out in a vendor's cart. I didn't think, I just dashed over and ran away with some. But they saw me, caught me, and brought me here." Prince Bonir Vol. 02 I felt for the girl. I was beginning to understand why she would feel so hopeless that she couldn't speak in her own defense—life had not been kind to her. Through no fault of her own it had been one bad turn after another. Her outstanding beauty had become her curse. "Very well...I grant you political asylum in the Province of Averic. Do you know what that means?" I asked. She shook her head from side to side. "It means that I will not return you to Barcos on account of my belief that you will be persecuted were you to return. Instead you may remain in Averic." I explained. She looked up again, eyes wide with the first glimmer of something like hope I had yet seen. "As for your thievery, you shall repay twice the value of the items that you have stolen," I continued. She became crestfallen again; clearly she had no money. "But I presume that you do not have the ability to pay." She nodded. "Then you shall work as a member of my household. Your earnings shall go to the shopkeeper until such time as you have paid off your debt, after which you shall be as one of the regular staff." She brightened further. A job? A chance to clear her name? I was offering her things she never expected would come her way. "Unless you would rather serve your sentence in debtor's prison," I added. "No, sir, my lord, I...I would be honored to serve in your household," she stammered. "Very well. Eve, please see if you can find a way to make use of our newest servant." "Yes, m'lord," Eve replied, coming forward to start showing her around. "My lord..." Arianna said hesitantly, "thank you." I nodded, then she and Eve disappeared into the house. --------------------- In my chamber that night, Eve asked "You like Arianna, don't you?" "She is very fair, and I like women with red hair," I admitted, "why?" "You could have just taken her, down in the dungeon, any time you liked, but you did not," she remarked. "That would make me no better than the Captain of the Guard," I replied. "I would rather a woman's affection be freely given, rather than something I just take. I underlined the point by penetrating her consenting orifice at that exact moment. ------------------- Eve put Arianna on the general housekeeping detail. Thus it happened that one day while dusting, Arianna came upon Eve in the process of making sheaths. She must have been curious as to what they were; I walked in to the middle of the conversation. "...and so by wearing the sheath, a woman can lie with a man and need not fear conception..." Eve was saying. Her back was to me, so Arianna saw me first. "Oh..." Arianna said with a start, covering her mouth. "I'm sorry, my lord," she stammered, grasping for her duster and starting to head back to her task. "Calm yourself Arianna," I replied, "you have done nothing wrong. I am guessing that you have asked Eve what it is that she is making. She alone in my household possesses the art to craft such useful devices; that is one reason why she has the standing that she does." Arianna nodded and looked down, interpreting my speech as intending to put her in her place. "Did you explain to Arianna how the sheath is employed?" I inquired. Eve turned to answer me, "I had just started to when you arrived, my lord." "Well then her lesson is not complete," I replied. "If you are agreeable, perhaps a demonstration would be in order..." I shot my eyebrows upwards as a signal. "As my lord wishes," she replied, turning around so that she was completely facing me. Arianna just stood there, not knowing what she should do. I walked up to Eve, who in practiced fashion pulled my hose down to free my manhood. Arianna flushed in embarrassment and turned away, so she didn't see Eve first take me into her mouth. But she became aware something was happening, so she peeked over. She kept her hands by her eyes, but bit by bit she turned more and more and widened the gaps in her fingers to better observe. I was certain that she had never seen the whole of a man before. Eve was fixated on pleasuring my organ and didn't notice Arianna at all. "Don't be afraid," I said, holding out an arm towards her inviting to come over. "Come over and have a closer look." Almost mesmerized, Arianna inched closer while watching intently, seemingly not blinking at all lest she miss something important. Eve continued to slide me in and out of her mouth in a manner she knew pleased me immensely. Arianna was close by now, and she started to turn to see what Eve was doing with me inside her mouth. Eve stopped sucking so she could talk. "Go ahead, touch it..." Eve encouraged, all the while stroking me with gentle hands. Arianna reached out gingerly, not know what to expect. I felt her fingers touch me, and gently probe to get a sense of its texture. "Oh..." she exclaimed, "it is...it is hard and yet soft at the same time! How interesting..." "And it really likes to be touched," Eve added, "especially like this..." She stuck out her tongue and slowly ran it along the underside. Even though I was already fully erect, I sprang up even further at the feeling. "And then..." Eve announced as she opened her mouth wide and encircled my such that Arianna could see. Then she closed her lips around me. Involuntarily, I groaned slightly. Arianna now got down on her knees so she could better watch as Eve massaged me with her mouth. "Would you like to try?" I asked. Eve spit me out, still stroking me with her hand. Arianna added her hand and tried to mimic Eve, but she was much too tentative. "Fear not, it will not break," I said. She grasped a little firmer and stroked a little harder. "Mmm, that's better," I said. She kept stroking it, but was looking at it funny, perhaps afraid of how it might taste. "Go ahead, don't be afraid," I encouraged. She opened her mouth slightly and touched her lips to me. It didn't taste badly, so she slipped her lips a little further down. She only took in about halfway down her tongue, however—she would need some practice to get as skilled as Eve. "Eve, let us show her how to use the sheath," I commented. "Yes m'lord," she replied. She handed me a sheath, the stood up to ready herself. I demonstrated for a fascinated Arianna how to position and roll the sheath on. She wasn't watching as Eve undid the top of her dress to allow the breasts I so enjoyed to spill out, then lifted her skirts up to her hips. Thus Arianna gave a start when I started to move towards Eve and she saw her standing on one leg, the other already up on the table, holding up her skirts that I might reach her nether regions. "And this is what it is for," I announced, as I gently pushed the sheath against the folds between Eve's thighs. She had not yet prepared for me, so I rubbed myself up and down against the folds to moisten them and soften their resistance. Presently I felt them give slightly, and pushed against them again. All at once the resistance was breached, and I was fully immersed in her womanhood. Arianna's hands reflexively shot to cover her mouth in surprise. But she watched as I thrust myself in and out of the hidden space. Eve's breath started to get shallow as she responded to the pleasurable thrusts. Arianna may have thought it might hurt, but seeing Eve—who was now lying back on the table and holding her knees to create a wider opening for me—she could tell that it must have felt good. I leisurely enjoyed Eve's familiar charms. But it suddenly was too much for Arianna; she gasped, grabbed her duster, and bolted out the door. Eve laughed as the door slammed closed. "She learned quite a lot at once," she said lightheartedly. "And as always, you are an excellent teacher," I replied. I slowed my thrusting and leaned forward that I might kiss her. After a moment of tenderness, I straightened up and increased the pace while Eve closed her eyes, lay back and enjoyed the ride. I reached for one of her breasts, first tweaking the nipple, then rubbing it gently with my thumb. Eve opened her eyes and watched me with a knowing look; she knew that I enjoyed her breasts, but she really didn't understand why. Our eyes met; in her eyes I could see that she willingly, nay happily gave to me of herself for no reason other than it gave me pleasure. "Thou are truly a special woman," I said softly, reaching for her cheek instead of her breast. I touched it gently; her response seemed to reflect some internal happiness that my words had given her. I didn't know what love was like, but I thought it probably felt a lot like I did at that moment. I would have savored the moment longer, but the strong emotion triggered my physical peak as well. Burst by burst, I filled the sheath to overflowing with man-seed. --------------------- For the next week Arianna said nothing to either of us about her "lesson." Eve and I continued our liaisons as before. Eve asked me if she should broach the subject; I told her "Give it time. She is not yet ready." But I certainly would never have predicted the circumstances under which that was to change. I was in the yard scrimmaging with Jauffrey; I did not want to lose all of the fighting skills I had acquired in the Elite Guard. We were taking turns parrying and blocking when a commotion arose from the gates. "Sire, sire!" shouted one of the kitchen staff running up the hill, "there are strange soldiers trying to seize one of the staff!" What? I followed him, still in my canvas practice clothes, to find three of my guards facing six unfamiliar soldiers. Their cuirasses bore the shield of Barcos. And in the midst of them, cuffed and struggling to get away, was Arianna. "Move aside," one of them was saying, "this traitor is a vassal of the Count of Barcos. We have been sent to fetch her to stand trial." "She is a member of this household, and she is not going anywhere without the Duke's permission," my guard answered. I wondered how they had allowed them to enter the castle in the first place, but I would deal with that later. "I am warning you," the Barcosian leader returned, "if you do not allow us to return to the Count with our prisoner, it will be considered an act of war! We shall have no choice but to invade Averic!" "You lie!" I boomed as I approached. "The Count of Barcos is too smart to start a border war on account of a single serf." Their leader turned to me. He had no idea who I was, but I had seen through his ruse, and thus I was someone he would have to recon with. "Who are you to accuse me of such things?" He demanded, pretending to be indignant. "Prince Bonir, Duke of Averic," I replied, walking right up to him and getting in his face. "The Count understands that Averic has a superior army, and even if we did not he would not risk the deaths of scores of soldiers over a single serf." Close up, I could see him start to sweat. His corpulence was obvious even with his armor; I would bet my castle that he had never seen real battle in his lifetime. I had. "Duke or no duke, you have impugned my honor!" he scoffed. "Then defend it, you scoundrel," I challenged. I backed up a few steps and drew my sword. He laughed nervously. "Right now? You don't even have any armor!" "I won't need it against a worm like you," I sneered. Idiot guard only learned to fight in armor, I was sure. In the Elite Guard we practiced fighting with and without armor against enemies with and without armor. Armor provides protection, but at the cost of speed and mobility. Winning the battle depended on capitalizing on your strengths. "As you like it," he replied overconfidently, drawing his sword. "No!" Arianna screamed. "Don't do it, my lord. I'll go with them to Barcos..." "Out of the question!" I replied, keeping my eyes steeled on the man who I had by now surmised to be the Captain of the Guard that had been hounding Arianna in her homeland. "No one, no matter how large an army, can just stroll into Averic and take our citizens captive!" "She is not your citizen," the Captain interjected hopefully. "She is a citizen of Barcos!" "She is not a citizen of Barcos," I returned, "because she has been granted asylum in the province of Averic on account of persecution in Barcos. And furthermore, she is in my personal employ!" That was not what he wanted to hear. "I am warning you for the last time, failure to turn over the prisoner is an act of war, and I shall not hesitate to kill you if provoked!" "Consider yourself provoked!" I challenged, clanging him on the back of the helmet with a sweep of my blade. I wasn't going to cut through the steel, so I had purposely struck it with the side, not edge of my blade for maximum effect. It must have been like having your head inside of church bell when it is rung. He was angry now, and dropped his face shield into place. He took a look at my blade worriedly for a moment; aristocrats usually carried ornate swords that looked elegant but were useless for doing real work. My blade was plain, and showed the dull shine of a blade that was regularly oiled, while the Captain's own blade was starting to tarnish. But then he looked again at my sackcloth clothing, and his confidence returned. "Very well! You have attacked me, not the other way around!" He took two steps forward, judging where to strike me. If he actually killed me, it might make it difficult to get away. He merely wanted to injure me so that I would consent to letting them go. He decided to go for my thigh. He swung; I nimbly pivoted out of the way and, completing an arc, smacked the back of his breastplate loudly. He reeled forward slightly, but maintained his balance. Whirling towards me again, I could see he was thinking now. This might not be so easy. He came towards me again with a might swing. I easily sidestepped it and crashed my sword into the top of his helmet. He was going to have quit a headache tomorrow. Now he was furious—he was getting embarrassed here, as I intended. Now he swung to hit, with a crossing diagonal blow. I dodged again, but I underestimated his reach; the tip of his sword nicked me and cut a narrow gash through my clothes and into the front of my shoulder. I knew it was an inconsequential flesh wound, but it would bleed rapidly at first. "Aha!" the captain cried triumphantly. "I shall give you one chance to reconsider before I kill you." "Reconsider? Because of a scratch? My rose bushes have cut me worse." I replied. Arianna yelled out again, "My lord, please, I shall go to Barcos. Do not get hurt on my account." "I have no intention of getting hurt," I said out loudly, "and now I have blood to avenge." The Captain came at me again, stupidly trying the same tactic again. As I darted away this time, I hit him hard enough to send him falling over face-first. He rolled over and stood back up, but the fat bastard was so slow I could have killed him five times over had I wanted to before he was back in a defensive position. Like a bull seeing red, he made an ill-advised charge toward me with his sword overhead, intending to chop down. With a slight feint I diverted his blade. Then as he lurched forward off balance, I easily passed my sword under his helmet so my blade pressed lightly into his Adam's apple. He froze, knowing that with the slightest thrust I could finish him off. "Yield or die," I said simply. He dropped his sword and slowly raised his hands. Keeping my blade at his neck, I bent over and picked his sword up. "Very nice," I jeered, "another memento for my collection. Now, you and your men can either head straight back to Barcos, or I shall have my guards execute you on the spot. I shall count to three. One...two..." The other guards quickly looked at each other, unsure what to do without direct orders, but I was almost up to three. They all broke ranks and ran helter skelter out into the streets. The Captain, did not, not sure whether his fleeing would be misinterpreted and I kill him. I nodded towards the others, and he ran off to follow. "The key!" I yelled after them. Not breaking stride, the Captain reached for a ring of keys at his side and dropped them to the ground. I called to Jauffrey. "Follow them, and make sure they do not stop anywhere on their way out of Averic. If they do you have my permission to kill them." He saluted and took three men with him to fetch their horses. I told one of the servants to run and fetch the keys and unbind Arianna, then I called for my scribe. "Take a letter to the Count of Barcos," I said, and dictated Dear Count: This sword you will find belongs to one of your Captains of the Guard. I came into possession of it when said Captain invaded my castle and attempted to forcibly remove one of my staff, a former citizen of Barcos. He claimed to be acting on your behalf and threatened war should we not assent to his demands, but I knew that your lordship would not be so foolish as to provoke war over a single vassal. You may wish to look into this matter further. I for one would not want to trust one such as this with the defense of Barcos from invaders. Prince Bonir Duke of Averic "Seal it," I ordered, "and send it along with this sword using our fastest courier." Then I headed back in to the castle to attend to my wounds. After I removed my shirt and washed out the cut, I came out wrap it, only to find Arianna waiting for me with dressings in hand. "My lord," she said meekly, "I have come to bandage your wounds." "Thank you," I replied, moving over the table where she had her bandaging laid out. I stood before her, lifting my arm slightly so she could wrap the bandaging around my shoulder. She inhaled with alarm as she looked at the cut with concern, very gently touching the gaping cut. "It is not very deep," I told her, "it shall heal." She took a roll of cloth and began to wrap it around the cut with great care. I could see that she was feeling a personally responsible for my wound. "So it seems I have met your Captain of the Guard," I remarked, "he seems determined to possess you. Little wonder you felt you had to escape from Barcos." "My lord..." she asked, unsure if she should, "why did you risk yourself for me? You are the Duke, and I am but a simple servant." "The people's responsibility is to serve their lord. The lord's responsibility is to protect his people," I explained kindly. "When I granted you political asylum I took on the responsibility for you just like any other citizen of the province. And what kind of protector would I be if I allowed foreign soldiers to walk in and seize one of the members of my very own castle staff?!" I touched her cheek gently with my other hand. "Even if it had not been you, lovely Arianna, I could not allow them to leave with one of my own." She had the wound well bandaged now, she was just wrapping around to hold it in place and use up the roll of cloth. Thus she was free to look up from her task and make eye contact with me. I could see a flood of emotions was dammed up behind them. "But you weren't even wearing your armor!" she fretted. "I knew I wouldn't need it," I said with a touch of pride. "I could tell I was the closest thing to an enemy that fat bastard had ever faced. I knew his reflexes would be slow; not wearing armor was thus actually an advantage. Before I was Duke, I was with the King's Elite Guard...did you know that?" She shook her head no, and her eyes widened further with awe. I don't consider myself to be all that special, I was a competent knight who by chance became a Duke and tried to rule my province fairly and justly. But in her limited experience of the world, I must have seemed a men above other men, a super-man. A better man than I would have know she was vulnerable and avoided taking advantage of her. Me, my heart was racing at the possibility of bedding her. Prince Bonir Vol. 02 "He wouldn't have touched me at all, save that I underestimated the length of his reach slightly," I concluded. "I can see I need to practice more before my skills deteriorate further!" Our eyes locked in a moment of tension. The flood of emotions in her eyes all related to me in a positive fashion, yet she was mindful of her rank in relation to myself. Then I noticed that she had finished applying the bandage, but perhaps without even fully realizing it, her hand lingered on my chest, touching the muscles protruding there. In a sudden motion I grasped her, drew her to myself, and kissed her. She melted completely in my arms. She eagerly returned my kiss with her mouth, but her body was almost limp with surrender. I think she would have done anything I wished her to at that moment. What I wished from her was quite simple and natural—but it would have lasting consequences for her. I wanted her to be sure she knew what she was doing. I stopped kissing her and looked at her intently. "Arianna," I said seriously, "I can not promise you anything more than I promise to Eve. I do not promise faithfulness, nor do I expect it from you. In time I will wed, but I cannot wed you. If you do this, you shall be considered spoiled, and as a result it may be difficult to find a husband for yourself. Tour continued employment in this castle is not dependent on your assenting to me desires in this. All I can promise you is my affection, and the favored status within the household that comes with it." She looked back at me, thinking for a moment. Whether she made a rational decision or whether her feelings got the best of her I shall never know, but her response was to reach up with her lips, seeking my kiss again. With that the outcome was determined. I reached down, put my right arm behind her thighs, and scooped her up into my arms. She was caught off guard at first, but then put her arms around my neck and gazed at me with starry eyes while I carried her to my chamber as a groom might carry a bride over the threshold. She could never be my bride, but as I would be imminently bursting her maidenhead, it didn't seem inappropriate. I remained standing, but lay her down on my bed. As she had seen Eve do, she began feverishly undoing the stays of her dress. When it appeared sufficiently loose, I reached for the waist and pulled it entirely over her head, leaving her in just her undergarments. She quickly disposed of those as well, leaving her completely naked. She looked at me shyly, self-conscious of herself, but knowing that this was what I desired. Her flame red hair spread out around her head like an angel's halo. A darker red patch covered the area where her legs met her torso. Her skin was pale, sprinkled with reddish freckles. She was slight and slender, with supple breasts proportional to her frame and tipped with soft pink nipples. I touched my hand to her face, then gently ran it down her cheek, alongside her neck, along the shoulder, gently down her chest, until finally reaching for and fondling her breast. Remembering what she had seen Eve do, she reached for my pants; finding that the loose practice canvas was just held up by a drawstring, she untied them, causing them to fall to the floor. She held my engorged but not fully erect member in her hand, stroking it gently, until its arousal was complete. All the while I was exploring her with my fingertips. Drawing again from memory, she brought herself up so that she was half-reclined, resting on one elbow. She brought her face close to me, closed her eyes, and gently encircle me with her soft lips. When she had briefly held me in her mouth before, she had been tentative, unsure of what to expect. Now, she wished only to please me. She lovingly caressed my penis, instinctively massaging me with her tongue in a most exquisite fashion. She swallowed and released me slowly, but with great concentration, maximizing the contact between her soft tissues and my hard staff. I stroked her breasts, which had large nipples but small areolae. My other hand I gently ran through that marvelous red hair. I saw her look up to me, hopefully, hoping to see that I was pleased by her inexperienced efforts. I thrust forward slightly and sighed as a signal that I most definitely was. She closed her eyes again and continued pleasuring me. I started to slide my left hand further down her torso. I came to the thatch of dark red, and started feeling for the still-sealed gates hidden therein. Finding the cleft with my index finger, I rubbed back and forth along its length, lingering by the little knot at its tip. This was a new sensation for her, and something she had not seen me do with Eve; she opened her eyes now, to see what was going on, mixed with a bit of surprise. I felt the cleft swell under my fingers and grow damp. I could feel her hips squirming in response; this new feeling was anything but unpleasant. She was ready to become a woman. I moved my left hand to be under her chin. Gently, I pulled upwards, indicating I wished her to release me and look up. When she did, I kissed her again. As we intertwined tongues, I reached for the nightstand with my right hand. Feeling for the drawer, I opened it, and again by feel alone retrieved one of the three sheaths that Eve made sure were always stocked there. I let go of her chin, and with my eyes still closed and locked in a kiss, I applied the barrier to my organ. Only then did I climb onto the bed myself. Arianna scooted over a foot or so towards the middle of the bed, so that her foot didn't dangle over the side when she parted her legs wide open to provide me access to her most private of places. I put my right arm down by her shoulder, while rubbing the sheath against her swollen cleft using my left. "When a maiden becomes a woman," I warned, "it sometimes hurts a little at first." And with that I pushed my hips forward. I felt the gentle resistance of the maidenhead, then thrusting forward with resolve I tore through it. "Aaagh," she cried, tensing, as I pierced the thin film of flesh. But all of the sensations that followed were altogether different and immensely more pleasurable. I initiated her womanhood with regular, three-quarter length strokes. She relaxed as she realized it wasn't going to hurt anymore, putting her hands on my shoulders and drawing her knees up even further. Her pale naked skin took on a reddish glow, and her breathing grew shallower. She looked up at me with wonder at the feelings being generated inside of her, mixed with an overriding desire to please her lord. Her sex was rapidly becoming acclimated to me, so I pushed myself in down to the root for the first time. Her eyes widened in synchronicity with her flesh as I reached to completely fill her. I held the position for a moment, and then began to make love normally, at full pace and with full strokes. Her glow in her skin intensified. Although I wasn't being especially vigorously, she was so slight every thrust sent her reeling. She wrapped her arms around my neck to steady herself. Seeing that this helped, she followed suit with her legs. She was thus wrapped around me, under me, as I hammered away at her delicate insides. I paused for a moment to kiss her; her kiss was breathless from the excitement. Then I straightened up and resumed my stroking, a bit faster now, as I set my sights on achieving climax. Arianna held on for dear life. She would later tell me she could not believe how much bigger my penis felt when it was insider her than it had when gazing upon it or holding it in her hands. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes to focus on the pleasurable sensations. Instinctively, she arched her back to better accommodate the angle of penetration. Her curly red locks spilled about her, providing luscious contrast to her pale beauty. Further aroused, I pushed harder. That in turn aroused her further; she opened her mouth and inadvertently made little noises with each insertion. She was wrapped around me, holding open that which women usually keep hidden. This aroused me further, and I pushed harder still. Suddenly she opened them and looked at me a look of surprise. Then with a definitive "Oh!" she tilted her head back again, closed her eyes, and held her mouth open. I could feel tremors shuddering somewhere deep inside of her. I watched, still thrusting, as her face briefly took on the appearance of pure rapture. When it passed, she looked at me with even greater wonder—such feelings she had never known the likes of. She would later tell me that when she was in the dungeon, she felt as if her life were over. Then, bit by bit, new doors opened to her, and suddenly there seemed to be so much life to live—and it seemed like I had been the one that opened every door. I knew none of that at the time, of course—all I knew is that as she looked at me, she was somehow even more beautiful. It triggered something deep within me. Shortly thereafter I froze, surrendering to the throes of bliss myself. My climax, and the extra rigidity that came with it, was another new sensation for Arianna. She was watching me tenderly as I was awash in orgasmic pleasure. Spent, I was suddenly aware that I was exhausted—and that my shoulder hurt. Arianna was lightly running her fingers along my shoulders, waiting for me to say or do something. I bent over to kiss her. Then I grasped the end of the sheath, withdrew it, and rolled over onto my back. Lithely, Arianna rolled over, too, so that she was lightly pressed against my side. She lay her head on my chest, and held an arm over me. It hurt a little to have her head pressing there, but I didn't say anything—she deserved a little cuddling after surrendering her maidenhead to me. "So now I'm a woman," she remarked somewhat distantly. "And quite a woman at that!" I replied. She looked up at me, pleased. "Do you mean that?" "Have you ever known me to speak something I did not mean?" I asked. She lay her head down again. But I couldn't help myself but suck a little air and wince; all at once she realized that my shoulder probably hurt. "Oh my..." she all but jumped off of me, "I'm so sorry, my lord, you shoulder..." "Shh, shh, shh," I interrupted. "It's fine. Anyway, it's my own fault—perhaps I should not have used it so strenuously, so soon. No matter...if given the chance I would do it again, in a heartbeat." She seemed pleased with that, and lay down next to me. We lay in silence for a while. She was so slight, and yet so alive. And she was beautiful...had my shoulder not hurt, I might have been tempted to have a second go at it. As it was, I just lay with her, appreciating her presence, letting her attach her tender emotions to me. Suddenly there was a knocking at the door, followed by Jauffrey's voice calling out "Your Excellency, you are needed in court!" I got myself gingerly out of bed; Arianna had sprung forth immediately and was already bringing me my formal tunic. I must say, it was extremely helpful having her help me dress, even as she remained stark naked. Once I was dressed, she hurried me out the door. I turned and kissed her once more, then went off to court. ------------------- It was late when the cases were all finally resolved. My private apartment was empty when I retreated to it; normally Eve would have been there. I told the guard to fetch her for me. A few minutes later, Eve entered. "You called for me, my lord?" she asked solemnly. I knew that she would have learned of my tryst with Arianna by now, and while she knew that she should be prepared for it, it didn't make it any easier now that it happened. She no longer had me to herself. "Yes, I need you to do something for me," I replied. "As you command, my lord," she replied formally. "I am tired. I need you to warm the bed for me for tonight," I said. She looked up at me with a little surprise, but also a little more hopeful. "My lord?" she asked, ensuring she had heard me correctly. "And you may wish to bring a change of clothing, for I shall need you lie with me through the night," I continued. Her face brightened—I knew that she feared being left behind now that I had a new concubine. "On account of my shoulder, you see," I added. We both laughed; clearly my shoulder had nothing to do with it. I held my arm out towards her; she rushed towards me and hugged me. "Ow, ow," I complained, as her squeeze hurt my wound. "Oh, I'm sorry, I ..." she stammered. I changed the subject. "Eve," I said seriously, "I know you know what happened today, and that it will happen again. I told you this day would come, and yet I know that it doesn't make it any easier to bear. But I want you to understand—any other concubines that may reside in this house may be complements to yourself, but shall never replace you. You were the first woman to lie with me as Duke, and you shall always occupy a special place in my heart. And even if someday we decide to end our affair, I shall still rely on you to be the head of my household." "Oh...my lord..." she sighed with relief, hugging me again. "I just thought...she's so young and beautiful..." "As are you, dear Eve," I interjected, holding up her chin. "Fear not, there is enough Bonir to go around." But that night, on account of my shoulder, Eve had to be on top. ------------------- Many days later I received a letter from the Count of Barcos. I read it aloud to the court. My Lord Prince Bonir: I am forever in your debt for informing me of the treachery within the ranks of my guard. Receipt of the sword launched an investigation that turned up much unpleasantness. Rest assured that this Captain shall never be in a position to cause harm again. I walked up to Arianna, who was standing off to the side, and said "So, dear Arianna, you could now safely return to your family in Barcos. Or, you could remain here, and continue to serve in Castle Averic. What say you?" "My lord," she said, communicating much more with the twinkle in her eyes than what she said with her words, "I would like to stay here in the Castle, if I may." I stretched out my arm, saying "You are welcome to stay for as long as you wish." I put my arm around her waist, she couldn't hide an eager smile as I led her the few short steps to the door to my private chamber. I wished to show her privately how I appreciated her presence in the castle. As I closed the door behind us, I heard Jauffrey proclaim "The Court of the Province of Averic is hereby adjourned!" Prince Bonir Vol. 03 Vol. 3: The Roman Orgy Three months into my term as Duke of Averic, things were finally starting to recover from the tumult of the plague. With almost one-third of the population perished, I reorganized the serfs so that the nearest, most productive fields were adequately tended. Some of the crop in fields nearest the border ended up rotting on the vine for lack of manpower at harvest time. With fewer goods and services produced, there was less income to Castle Averic. It would cost money to rebuild the guard to a sufficient size to protect the province—but now was not the time to demand more money of the few, bereaved peasants that remained. I dipped into the family's own treasury to help keeps things afloat and cut back on unnecessary expenses, like fancy balls. Even the Church was suffering. The Archbishop and I had a personal enmity dating to my childhood, but I respected the important role that Church played in the lives of the people and knew that the Church and state served to counterbalance each others' power. Clergy had been especially hard-hit by plague, perhaps because they had been exposed to so many of the ill when administering last rights. And the peasants, in dire straits, were unable to give to the extent that they used to. Just how hard the plague had been for the Church became clear to me when I received a call from Sister Dominia, Abbess of the Convent of Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering. They Abbey lay in the east of Averic, near the border to the King's own lands. When I was a schoolboy, Sister Dominia taught catechism, and we thought she was so old that she would fall over dead in the midst of the lesson. Ten years and one plague later, half of her convent had perished, but Sister Dominia continued on. "Sister Dominia!" I exclaimed in half-disbelief as she came to see me for an audience. "Your Grace," she replied as she strode forward. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked. "The Abbey," she said, getting straight the point as she always had, "is in dire need. So many sisters were taken by plague that one of the two halls of the Abbey stands empty. The roofs of our buildings leak so badly the sisters get drenched if they are saying vespers during a storm. There aren't enough of us to tend the grapes, so we will produce little wine this year, and that is our only source of income. We need help." "I am sorry to hear that, Sister," I said honestly, "but surely the Archbishop is the one who can help you?" "The Archbishop has turned his back on us," she answered bitterly. "In the past, the Archdiocese could help when needed, but there is barely enough coming in to the coffers to keep the churches open. He has told us flatly that he cannot help us out." "Unfortunately, the plague has hit us all hard," I answered. "The fields likewise have not enough peasants to farm them, and tax revenue is way down. I have had to use my own personal funds to pay the guard. We are all in the same boat." "And that boat shall sink if we do not patch it soon," she replied. She wasn't surprised that the government couldn't help, but she owed it to her Abbey to ask. "We would take any assistance we can get—if not financial, manpower, materials, anything." "If we can spare anything, I shall think of you," I promised. Sister Dominia bowed and took her leave. We both knew those words likely meant nothing. ----------------- While it seemed everything was suffering from the results of the plague, one industry thrived: witch hunting. The superstitious masses blamed almost everything bad on witches, and a group of them somewhere decided that witches must have been behind the plague, and set about trying to uncover their coven. Mysterious flyers titled "Identifying Wytches and Wytchcraft" were circulating, not just in Averic but throughout the kingdom. Across the realm women of all sorts, and even a few men, were being charged with witchcraft. In almost all of the other fiefdoms, witches were turned over to the Church for prosecution. What happened to them depended on the diocese, but the vast majority ended up being tortured to death. Not so in Averic. I personally tried those suspected of witchcraft, and had exonerated the accused in every case. At first, I had even offered positions in my household staff to the fairest of the accused, and as a result I had two lovely two paramours living in my castle. Eve had been the first; raven-haired, ample of bosom and in her mid-twenties, she was an experienced and sophisticated lover. Arianna was in many ways her opposite; flame-red haired, slight, and younger even than I at 20, she was naïve and inexperienced but made up for it with a strong willingness to please. I was fortunate indeed, but had also had resolved to take on no more, even if my finances would have permitted it. I wished both of my concubines to be equals, and vowed to share myself with them equally—but I also thought that I would be the one to initiate relations with them. Instead, there developed a friendly competition for my attention as each sought to reassure herself that she remained in my favor. Thus each became increasingly proactive in offering me her charms, and in order to avoid jealousies forming and keep peace in the house I felt I should not turn down any reasonable advances. Thus I found myself passing nearly every idle moment engaged in the pleasures of the flesh. A wonderful problem to have, but one I had to maintain limits on, or surely I would expend so much energy on me personal entertainments as to neglect my responsibilities as Duke. That is why the arrival of Maris caused me such concern. The guards had heard reports of a stranger being seen in a border town. They located and questioned her, then brought her to me to decide her disposition. As she was brought forward, Jauffrey announced "The Duke shall now hear the case of Maris, vassal of the Count of Merseinne." An attractive young woman with long fair hair, dressed in peasant attire, was brought forward. She wore chains on her neck, wrists and ankles; a single length of chain ran from her collar connected to the chains between her wrists and ankles. Before I could even ask the first question, she fell to the ground, pleading "My lord, Prince Bonir, I beg of you, I am need of protection." "Rise!" I commanded. She remained on her knees, however, although she kneeled upright to better converse. "Protection from what?" "My lord, there are those who would have me tried as a witch in Merseinne. If I am returned to them, I shall surely perish. I..." her voice faltered slightly. She swallowed hard and continued "When I was a girl, I watched them burn my poor, innocent Aunt alive. One of the townsfolk was grievously injured by a wild boar, and she attempted to help heal the wounds by mixing herbal remedies. When he perished in spite of her efforts, they accused her of killing him. Many came forward in her defense, but in the end she was burned anyway." She paused as bitter memories filled her head. She concluded "To this day the sound of her screams wakes me up at night." Tears already streamed down her cheeks. "See, you have nothing to fear," I said, walking down the steps from the throne and scooping a tear from her cheek, tasting it to verify its saltiness. "You tears already exonerate you." "My lord," she replied, "such reason holds sway in Averic because you make it so. It is not so in all of the provinces." "What say you?" I asked, astonished. "Performing acts that witches are known to be incapable of is not sufficient proof for exoneration?" She shook her head from side to side. "No, my lord. They are dismissed as trickery and deceit, perverted so as to be taken as further proof of witchcraft." I stood there, stunned. "My mother heard that charges were being brought against me, I know not on what grounds. It matters not, as the outcome is assured in Merseinne. She gave me all the money we had saved up and told me to flee at once to Averic. She told me that she heard rumors that a witch can get a fair trial there from His Grace the Duke. I had not even time to pack anything, all I possess is the clothes I wear and the few coins that remain from my journey." After a pause, she said, "I do not know if my mother even yet lives, or if perhaps she was executed for aiding me in my flight." She cast her eyes down at the ground, unable to stem the flood of tears, but trying to hold back the sobbing. Stunned, I sauntered back to my throne and sat upon it. "My heart goes out to you, dear lady," I said thinking out loud, "but I am a loss as to how to help. In the past I have sometimes accepted cases such as yours into my own household, but I cannot do that now, for my household is full. Worse, if you have heard in far-off Merseinne that a witch can get a fair trial in Averic, and it is not so elsewhere, then we can expect a flood of accused witches may be sneaking under the cover of night towards our borders even as we speak." "I cannot simply return you to Merseinne to face certain death. But nor can I simply permit you to reside in Averic. The Manor system is grounded on vassals bound to serve one lord. The system only works so long as the lords agree to honor each others' indentures. Without it, one province could raid its neighbors, offering incentives for peasants to relocate and farm its undermanned fields. Others would follow suit, and soon the kingdom would fall into chaos. Peasants would be moving from manor to manor constantly, leaving no time for working. Peasant wars would erupt between provinces, and in the end the kingdom would surely fall." The entire court was silent as a grave; even Maris had ceased her tears as she listened to me explaining the predicament she posed. "To simply ignore your indenture to Merseinne would have disastrous diplomatic repercussions for Averic. The King might be called upon to step in; perhaps he would simply remove the authority under which we, not the Church, hear cases of witchcraft. We would lose the ability to save even our own unjustly accused." Absolute silence remained. "And yet," I added softly, "we cannot stand idly by and turn over innocents to their certain death..." I was silent for a long time, unable to see a workable solution. "Take her to a cell until I can come up with an equitable solution to this predicament." Maris stood. She cursied, saying "Thank you, my lord, for your consideration of my case. I surely do not mean for any harm to come to you or your people." Then she walked in the direction she was pointed. Prisoners usually need "encouragement" to be led to the dungeons, but no one needed to lay a finger on Maris as she went to the dungeon of her own accord. In its own way, this spoke volumes about her state; being imprisoned in a dungeon was a far better outcome than being burned at the stake. I supposed I could simply fill up my dungeons with exonerated witches, but it was hardly fair to sentence innocents to lifelong imprisonment. With apologies to cases that were waiting, I recessed the court for the day. I retired to my private apartment to think. If indeed Maris was a portent of things to come, I faced a significant problem indeed. I decided I needed to convince myself that she spoke truth of the state of affairs in Merseinne. I called to Jauffrey, saying "I wish to question Maris further." With a nod, he led me to the cell where she was held. It was a normal cell, and with the chains she wore it wasn't deemed necessary to additionally tether her to the wall. The door was opened and I stepped inside. Maris, who had been laying on the cold stone floor, quickly got up and knelt before me. "I am at your service, my lord," she pleaded. "You have told me of your Aunt, and it is a sad tale indeed," I began. "But what make you so sure that the same would happen to you." "Because it is also what happened to Agatha...and Calyn...and Ellsyn..." She recited at least a dozen names of other accused witches who were either executed or never seen again. It was the matter-of-fact fashion with which she produced this list that convinced me she told the truth. I sighed. It was not just a girl and her mother's fear at work here. Suddenly I felt two hands softly touching the hose at my thighs. "My lord," she pleaded, "my life is truly in your hands. I do not ask that you take me and every other accused witch into the kingdom into your household." She began to gently rub her hands up and down my thighs. "I am thankful that you have not simply banished me to Merseinne already. It would be better to spend all of my days in this dungeon than to suffer as my Aunt did." She had steadily moved her hands upwards, and now was gently caressing the crotch of my hose. This did not escape the attention of the little knight inside them. "Maris..." I said, trying to interrupt her but not actually stepping back from her. "They say Your Grace's justice is swayed neither by money nor flattery," gently touching her face against the front of my hose, their occupant was now fully enlarged. "But they say that there are certain gifts only a young woman possesses that Your Grace appreciates..." And then—I have no idea how she did this—but with two quick, subtle movements her dress tumbled from her shoulders. Her sleeves caught on the shackles at her wrist, preventing it from coming off altogether, but nonetheless as she knelt before me she was bare to the waist. She had pale, unblemished skin, with sizeable breasts that stood out firmly, a testament to her youth. But what really drew my eye were the dark pink nipples, extended almost to the point of discomfort, presumably from the cold of the cell. I stood frozen; I wished to touch them, to taste them, but knew I should not. Maris looked up at me, hoping that I would appreciate that which she was offering. Interpreting my stasis to mean I liked what I saw, she reached for my waistline and pulled down my hose. Their occupant sprang forth like a tiny lance. Maris placed it inside her mouth and began to gently caress it with her tongue. Oh shit! My fondness for females shall clearly be my downfall, I thought. But it was too late to turn back now—my penis was too enthralled by the sensations of Maris' tongue for me to back away. Instead, I grasped her nipples between my fingers and enjoyed the ride. I hate to admit it, but there is something extra-intense about a woman's oral ministrations when she believes her life depends on it. I had first experienced it with Eve, and now Maris—but whereas Eve was experienced and knew how to pleasure a man, Maris was not. But, much as Eve had been, in her desperation to please she was highly attentive to that which brought greater reaction, and responded with more of the same. Thus it took very little encouragement for her to understand that the in-and-out motion, coupled with the caresses within, were what really stirred the pot. Of her own initiative she accentuated the process by gently stroking my sac with her fingers. It is really a shame I cannot take her into my household, as she has much potential, I thought. Then I scolded myself for my weakness to the charms of the fair sex, even as Maris pleasured me. While in truth I had not changed my disposition in the slightest as a result of favors received, there was no doubt that the appearance suggested otherwise. And if it had become known that my mind might be swayed by an eager tongue...come to think of it, how had word gotten out? At first I thought of Eve, but I couldn't imagine that she would advertise the methods she employed to attempt to earn my favor. Then I remembered that there were guards behind me, watching the entire proceedings. There was no longer any mystery as how word had gotten out. I was drawn back from my thoughts by an especially intense sensation. It seemed that Maris decided to test to see just how much of the stout fellow she could swallow; as she strained, valiantly but ultimately unsuccessfully, to engulf its entirety, the pleasurable feeling was astonishing. Without realizing I gripped her breasts harder, to the point that she reflexively withdrew in pain. I relaxed my grip, and she immediately returned to her attempts to envelop me completely. But as pleasurable as it was, the pace was too slow to bring me to culmination. So I let go of her wonderful breasts—not without regret—and gently placed my hands on the back of her head. Whereas up to now she had done most of the work, I now began to thrust with my buttocks, pushing my penis into and out of her mouth at my preferred rhythm. She in turn held still, looking up to me for guidance, allowing me to penetrate her soft tissues, doing her best to caress me while I was within her reach. Suddenly I felt it arising. I shortened and quickened my strokes. Maris stayed put, sensing something was about to happen, but perhaps not entirely sure what the end result of this endeavor even was. Her mouth was as virginal as Arianna had been when first I lay with her; this realization put me over the top. I felt myself stiffen and seed exploded from my loins, filling her mouth. Maris' eyes betrayed surprise; she had not known she would end up with a mouthful of salty, sticky fluid. I withdrew from between her lips, but I could see she held it in her mouth, unsure of what to do with it. "Man-seed is not harmful," I informed her, "you may swallow it safely, or spit it out if you prefer." She gave a nod with her head, which it took me a minute to realize meant she wished to know what I wanted her to do with it. "If you're asking my preference, I'd rather that you swallow it." And without hesitation, she did. I stepped back and pulled up my hose. "Again, my treatment of your case is no different as a result of your efforts to win my favor, as I value fairness above all else. I shall consider further the best course of action in this case." "I am you humble servant, my lord," she said quietly, looking down. I would imagine she must have been a little disappointed to not have earned a more favorable response, but I had warned her of such at the outset. And then I did something I should not have; those outstanding pink tips of her breasts, that I had joyfully fingered throughout her servicing of me—I wished to taste them. She still knelt upright on the ground. Quick as a flash, I got down on one knee, encircled one with my lips, and tested it with my tongue. It was so firm, and yet so delicate. Maris closed her eyes as she now felt pleasurable sensations. Well, I'd wanted to know how it felt in my mouth, and now I knew—outstanding. Just as abruptly I forced myself to stand and depart from the cell. I knew I had better leave at once, or the little duke would commit me to something the big duke could not fulfill. ------------------- I was lost in thought as I marched toward my apartments. How could I be fair to an innocent such as this, and not put my own kingdom in political jeopardy? "Tell the scribe to search in the library for recent news from Merseinne. See if you can verify any news of witches bearing any of the names she identified." One of the servants ran to pass the order, but I was certain that her story would be confirmed. I thought too of my own weakness, and the reputation I had already earned for being able to be swayed by a fair maiden's gentle mouth. I certainly could not have a desperate girl attempt to undress me in public court! I laughed in spite of myself as I imagined the uproar that would have ensued. I remembered for a moment Sister Dominia's visit earlier in the day, and imagined the completely scandalized look upon her face. And at that moment I had an Archimedes moment. I did not shout "Eureka" as had the great sage when solved the problem of the golden crown, but I did stop in mid-stride, putting my hands out to the side as I'd been struck by lightning. The guard rushed to me, thinking perhaps I had pains, only to find me with a relaxed smile on my face. "Send a messenger at once to the Abbey of the Covenant. I wish to see Sister Dominia at once—tomorrow morning if at all possible." Again a hurried dispatch to relay the order. Although the details were still taking shape, I had a solution to my problem. "Oh, and Jauffrey," I said as I entered my private chambers, "please send for Eve and Arianna" Prince Bonir Vol. 03 In a few minutes both arrived, together. While there was no animosity between them, they were nevertheless in something of a competition, and so they tended to stay apart from each other. This was the first time I had ever addressed both of them together. Their serious expressions showed this face was not lost on either of them. Eve spoke first. "Is there a problem, my lord?" "Yes, of a sort," I replied, sitting in my favorite chair. "In the dungeon there is an accused witch from Merseinne..." I paused to let the distance between Averic and Merseinne to sink in. "It seems that she has heard that witches can get a fair trial here in Averic. Apparently she had also heard that I look favorably on certain...favors a young woman might provide." Eve, from firsthand experience, could envision all too clearly what had occurred, while Arianna had a pretty good inkling. "I cannot return her to Merseinne. And the bigger problem is that she may be just the first of many; who knows how far word has spread. There may be scores of accused witches trying to escape to our borders as we speak. But...that is not why I sent for you. I have had certain...intimacies with this prisoner. To be clear, what I do or don't do and with whom is my business alone, but I tell you this now because I wish to tell you what I did not do. I did not offer to take her in to my household as I had when the both of you were in similar situations. As much as my heart goes out to her, I cannot afford to support another servant. But more than that, I cannot split my time between three of you, and certainly not more. With any luck, I have come up with a different solution for her. To get to the point, I have called you here to reassure you both that, whatever rumours you might hear, for the foreseeable future you shall have no further competition for my favor." They both heaved sighs of relief. They glanced at each other, unsure of what to do. And then, following some intuition a man could never understand, they simultaneously came forward and draped themselves upon me. "Thank you, my lord," Eve, the more well-spoken of the two, said. "I shall do my best to live up to the trust you have put in me." "As shall I," Arianna piped in. "Enough, ladies!" I interrupted. "You do not need to prove anything further. I...I am quite fond of you both, and it is I that am thankful to you for your willingness to remain here with me knowing that I can never offer to you any of the assurances that women generally desire." Both reached to kiss me, but Arianna got there first—and she was in no hurry to share. So Eve did the next best thing—perhaps the better thing. Deprived of my mouth for the moment, she reached for my hose and showered her kisses on my penis. The strength of my response even surprised myself so soon after having been pleasured by Maris in the dungeon. Arianna quickly figured out what was happening, and an amazing thing happened—the shared me. Eve took her turn to kiss me while Arianna caressed me. Then Eve turned her attention to the berries that hung below the branch. My length was ensconced in one warm mouth, my jewels adored by another. They would switch places from time to time, each one's unique style bringing new sensations with it. I tenderly touched each woman's head, breathing heavily, very nearly unable to process all of the feelings flooding my senses. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow I ended up moving from the chair so that I was lying flat on the table. Eve straddled the part of me that pointed straight up, while Arianna brought her most private of parts right up to my face and displayed them to me; I licked them eagerly, savoring their scent. Then they switched again; Arianna bent her knees deeply and rocked herself up and down, repeatedly impaling herself upon engulfing my little knight. Eve for her part entertained me with the ample bosom she knew I liked so well. I had her nipple pinched firmly but not painfully when the overwhelming sensations brought me to climax. And that night, for the first time, I allowed both of them to spend the night in my bed. ----------------- Sister Dominia paid me a call the following morning. "You called for me, Your Grace?" she asked hopefully. "Yes," I replied, "and thank you for coming so quickly. You have a problem, and now it seems that I have problem as well. I believe that we can help each other out." I gave a signal and Maris was brought out, standing to the far right (my left) of the great hall. "It seems I have developed a reputation...a reputation in my dealings with accused witches." "Indeed, Your Grace," Sister Dominia replied, "I have heard the same, and it speaks very well of you. I do not agree with the Archbishop on the handling of such affairs. I refuse to believe that there is no better way of dealing with witches; Your Grace, it seems, agrees." Her remark surprised me, not because she thought little of me when I was a child—of course she had always thought little of any child—but because I would have thought she would stand behind the Church no matter what. Perhaps, as woman, she saw things differently. "Thank you, sincerely, Sister... but it seems that this has also become my problem. Maris, here," I gestured in her direction "was accused of witchcraft in Merseinne. I have already disproven the charges, but it seems that such evidence does not hold the same sway in some parts of the kingdom as it does in Averic. Thus to extradite her would be to sentence her to death—I refuse to allow innocents to suffer and die if I can help it." "As Our Lord God would want it, Your Grace," she added. "But it also leaves me with a problem—two problems, actually. The first is that if word of how we do things here has gotten to Merseinne, it surely has gotten other places as well. Thus, there is a good chance that we can expect a steady stream of suspected witches coming to Averic seeking refuge." I paused to let that sink in; Sister was thoughtful but said nothing. "The second is that I cannot simply start accepting refugees from other provinces; it would undermine the entire manor system. If word got out that Averic was not honoring indentures to other lords...well, either the entire political structure would collapse and the empire descend into chaos, or the King would step in to intervene and prevent us from accepting refugees. He might, reclaim jurisdiction over all court proceedings in the province, in which case we wouldn't even be able to save our own falsely accused. So somehow we must find a safe haven for these poor souls, but it must not involve swearing allegiance to the Duke of Averic." "I presume this is where the Abbey fits in?" Sister Dominia asked. She may have been ancient, but she was sharp as a tack; she had a pretty good idea of where this was heading. "Indeed it is—because the church exists outside of the bounds of the manor system. A peasant bound to one lord will not be accepted as a serf by another. But the Church can welcome anyone to pursue the religious life, anywhere," I explained. "So you wish me to take all the suspected witches into the Order?" she asked, skeptical. "No," I replied, "if a woman does not wish to be a nun, then she does the order no good to have her pretend be one. But you said yourself that you have a building standing empty, true?" "Indeed," she answered. "So what I envision is that they shall live cooperatively with the good Sisters and reside in the vacant hall," I continued. "If any wish to join the order, God bless them. But the others shall work alongside yourselves to earn their keep. Many of your sisters are elderly; most of the refugees will be young and able-bodied. You shall each contribute equally to the needs of the Abbey. Their additional hands will allow you to harvest your grapes, their hands can help mend your roofs. They will have autonomy over their own house, but you will retain ultimate authority over the Abbey. And...if there are enough of them...I have an idea for how they can start an industry of their own that would bring in at least as much money as does your vineyard." "And what would I need to do to make this happen?" Sister Dominia asked thoughtfully. "You would need to turn your unused building over to secular residents. You would need to share the responsibilities of operating the Abbey with others not in the order. Most importantly, if asked you must state that they are residents of the Abbey and members of your religious community. That should be sufficient; I would never ask you to speak untruth and claim that they are members of your order when they are not. And..." I said, pausing while I thought, "if things go well, you may need to find space on the grounds for the raising of sheep." Sister Dominia raised her eyebrows at my seemingly incongruous comment about sheep. But she was in no position to deny any help in spite of her wariness. "I have my misgivings, Your Grace, but I am also in no position to turn down any assistance that is offered. I will allow the girl to live in the empty house. Perhaps in a fortnight we can revisit whether this arrangement is working out or not." "Absolutely, Sister," I agreed, "this can only work if it is beneficial for all parties." The guards removed Maris' chains. She walked towards the front of the court, knelt on one knee and bowed her head, saying "Thank you, your highness, for all that you have done for me." "Rise," I replied, "I have only done what is the most just thing that was within my power to do. I wish I could have done more, as I feel as if I were exiling you to the Abbey. But do not forget, there are other ways to become a Citizen of Averic." I trusted she understood that were she to marry a citizen, she would be free to become one herself. She rose with a serious face, neither happy nor unhappy at her disposition, and followed Sister Dominia to the Abbey. It was but two days after I sent Maris to the Abbey that the second—third, really, counting Arianna—inquisition refugee was found in Averic. When the fortnight was past and Sister Dominia returned to report on the experiment, there were two others awaiting, bringing to four the total refugees residing in the Abbey. "Tell me truthfully, how goes the experiment?" I asked Sister. "I am amazed, Your Grace," she replied, "the girls have been most helpful. The vineyards are weeded, the Abbey cleaned for the first time in months. The have taken their fair share of the cooking as well. I am most pleased with the arrangement so far." "I glad of it," I replied. "And since the number of residents appears destined to grow, I have an idea for how they may earn some additional support for the Abbey." It was one thing to suggest to Maris and the others that they might try to marry a citizen—not a popular proposition among Averic's own ladies, I'm sure—but without a dowry, their odds were slim. Their labor was valuable, but they needed a way to earn money for themselves and for the Abbey. I had a plan to allow them to do just that. I had taken possession of a shop in the village that had lain empty since its childless proprietors had both succumbed to plague. I had it cleaned out and a sign made proclaiming it "The Abbey Store." I had a flock of sheep transferred from the far north to the Abbey, which allowed me to transfer the peasant's families to lands in the west (which for some reason the peasants deemed preferable). An old barn not too distant from the Abbey was pressed back into service to house the flock. On market days—Wednesdays and Saturdays—they brought a cart with wares from the Abbey to the store to sell, accompanied by two of my own guards, as the fair ladies would else be prime marks for highwaymen. At first they sold just wine and handcrafts made by the sisters. Next came wool, at first raw, but as they grew in number and skill, as spun thread—and the occasional mutton. All of these things were out in the open and plain to see. But a knowing customer—or a likely fellow let in on the secret—knew that there was an upstairs room where a different product might be found, the real reason why I had turned the witches into shepherdesses. I had impressed upon Eve to teach the witches how to make sheaths, and they now manufactured them at the Abbey and secretly sold them out of the store. They made some percentage on all items sold for their efforts, but sales of the sheath were almost 100% profit. All profits were pooled and split three ways; one-third to the Abbey, to pay for room and board; one-third to me, for the cost of the guardsman escort, the use grazing land and the rental of the shop in town; and one-third for themselves, to reinvest or split however they saw fit. It was an unconventional enterprise to be sure. My greastest fear had been what might happen when the townsfolk learned that there were women accused of witchcraft living in Averic, but in the end nothing came of it. It seemed that the general thinking was that if they were truly witches the Abbess would be the one to know, and she was comfortable with them living in the Abbey they must be all right. In fact, somewhat to my chagrin the east wing of the Abbey came to be known as the "Wytch's Hotel." The girls themselves turned out to be extremely entrepreneurial. They organized, and soon they were also selling vegetables and handiwork from nearby farms in the shop on consignment. Rather than just sell the wine by the bottle, they also sold it by the glass; my soldiers were all too happy to spend their off-duty time drinking it and talking with the lovely young lasses that tended the shop. At first the tavern owners complained, until I pointed out that the ladies only sold wine during market hours. Once the market closed the soldiers had to head to the taverns to continue drinking, and it actually increased their business. A few got wise to the value of attractive ladies doing the serving and hired some of the most outgoing girls as serving wenches in the taverns. I gave this my blessing, as it allowed them to live and work in the town without having any direct allegiances to myself. Both in the town and at the Abbey girls were saving up money, one way or another to better their lot. I could not have been happier with how my "experiment" had turned out. There were rumors that some of the "wytches" could be persuaded, for an extra fee, to demonstrate to naïve—or perhaps just the opposite—customers just how the sheath was to be employed. I turned a blind eye to the possibility until such time as pressure required that I address it. Within six months the Abbey was supporting more than a dozen witches in exile—in fact, but the time by birthday came round, there were more witches at the Abbey than nuns. ------------------ As my birthday neared, Eve pried me for information as to what I wished for my birthday. But even taking advantage of the loosened tongue that follows the release of the loins, I had no answer to give. I told her and Arianna both, truthfully, that having them around as my doting servants was all any man could ask for. Then one night, as Eve lay next to me while I lay spent, she said, "I have received word from Maris at the Abbey." "Oh?" I asked. As the first resident of the "Witch's Hotel," Maris had become its leader, even passing on numerous offers to work in the taverns of the town to continue her role at the Abbey. "Yes," Eve continued, "they know that your birthday is coming as well. They have asked that you might come and visit the Abbey to see what all they have accomplished, but mostly they with to thank you for all you have done for them. To a one, they all say that they live today only because of your magnanimity." "Nonsense," I protested, "I was trained as a knight, and in the code of chivalry fairness is the rule of the day. I have merely applied that which I believe in." "You are too modest, your Grace," Eve purred as she ran her fingers gently along my bare chest. "You are not just fair, but you are also wise and clever. What other province of the kingdom tries witches as they do in Averic?" "None, alas," I admitted. "Because only Averic has Your Grace as it's Lord," she replied. "The success of my experiment pleases me more than any thanks they could give," I replied. "And yet they owe their lives to you, and they wish to show you their appreciation..." she countered. "It seems there is one thing that does make my lord happy..." as she spoke, she let her hand's path travel further south, until she was (again) gently stroking the slumbering dragon. "Indeed, it is my weakness," I admitted, feeling the dragon stirring from its dreams. "If I do not learn to better control it, it will surely be my downfall." "That day Maris first arrived..." Eve said, seemingly changing the subject, "that day you talked to Arianna and I together in your chamber...it seemed like perhaps my lord was especially fond of that experience..." "I admit I found it quite pleasurable," I confessed, "but it is unfair enough for one man to have access to two women as lovely as you. I certainly do not expect them to have to share me at the same time." "My lord, as thoughtful of others as ever," she answered admiringly. "But it cannot be denied—he likes what he likes." And with that she began to caress my flesh anew. Coupled with the switch to third person in her speech, I wondered if perhaps "he" referred not to me as a whole but only to that part of me she held in her hand. But those thoughts quickly fled my head as Eve continued to caress me with her soft warm tongue. I lay there, eyes closed, while Eve showered me with affection until her efforts were rewarded with a mouthful of white liquid. Eve spoke no more of the Abbey or my birthday wishes, and I was so busy running Averic the topic slipped my mind. I did begin to notice some seeming whispers in the shadows, though, mostly from Eve although some also with Arianna and Jauffrey. On a few occasions messengers arrive with messages for Eve, which had not happened before. I wondered what was going on. Three days before my birthday, I received an official letter from the Abbess. The Abbey was re-dedicating it's newly re-roofed chapel, it said, and as the Archbishop was unavailable, asked that I might preside over the ceremony. "Yes, of course," I replied wearily—this sort of thing was what Dukes did a lot of, as it was important to be seen in this way by the people. "When is it?" I groaned inwardly when I learned it was on my birthday. I may not have had anything I specifically wanted for my birthday, but going to the Abbey to dedicate a chapel was not what I had in mind. "Fear not, your Grace," Eve whispered, "perhaps the Abbess does not know it is your birthday, but we do. We shall see to it that a suitable celebration takes place." I nodded. I knew that Eve was quite clever and would find a way to arrange some manner of a celebration—or at least ensure that I needn't remain chaste on the special day. I failed, however, to put two and two together. My birthday morn found me on horseback riding towards the Abbey, with no idea of what was in store for me. A small cadre of staff came with me; Eve and Arianna, Jauffrey and six guards, and three of the kitchen staff—I wasn't sure why they were coming, as I hoped this visit to be as brief as possible, but everyone else seemed convinced they were necessary to ensure that I received a meal worthy of this special day. We arrived at the Abbey with little time to spare before the traveling priest began noon mass. It was a strange setting; the right side of the chapel was nearly empty, every other pew holding a single one of the remaining nuns that prayed here every day. The left side, on the other hand, was filled to near capacity. I occupied the first row with my escorts and Jauffrey as my guards took up stations along the aisle. The next two rows were filled with the residents of the "Wytches Hotel." And all the remaining pews were filled by local peasants that lived in the shadow of the Abbey, curious to at last see what it looked like on the inside. Prince Bonir Vol. 03 After mass Sister Dominia stood up and gave a speech thanking me for my support of the Abbey, providing means and the labor needed to restore the Chapel. She thanked the "civilians" that lived in the Abbey for all the work they had done and continued to do that allowed the Abbey to remain in operation. Then she asked me to say a few words. I got up and thanked Sister Dominia for opening up her house to "others in need" and spoke of the importance of working together for common good. I wrapped it up thanking everyone for coming and that, I thought, was it. Sister Dominia came up to me after I finished speaking; because she was right in front of me, I failed to notice all of the "wytches" head off in the same direction as a group. "I do thank you, your Grace," she said, "for without your experiment, I have no doubt the Abbey would have closed by now. Instead, it is in the best shape it has been in my lifetime. And the ladies residing in the west hall to a one feel that they owe you their very lives. Surely God smiles on such acts of kindness and charity." "Well, thank you Sister..." I stumbled awkwardly, uncomfortable being the target of such praise. "I also understand that it is your birthday today?" she continued. My eyes shot up in surprise; I expected she would have no idea, or she might have rescheduled this dedication. "Indeed it is," I replied. "May you have many more, and may Averic prosper so long as you rule," she said by way of blessing, "but the ladies in the west hall...as I understand it, they have planned some special surprises for your Grace's birthday. Indeed, they asked that I hold this dedication today, for they feared that you might not accept the invitation were they to send it, but knew that you would not turn down the requests of the Abbey." I glanced at Eve, who was looking around nonchalantly. I could tell that there was pure mischief in those dark flashing eyes—mischief which seemed to always mean good things for me. "From...other rumors I have heard, I am quite certain that I wish to know nothing of what those surprises may be. The Sisters and I shall retire to the east hall and remain there until the morrow. Father shall be hearing confessions after morning mass, should have need for it." With a slight bow, Sister turned and headed for the door at the back of the church. I turned on Eve, eyes piercing but not angry. "What have you arranged?" I demanded. "The ladies of the Abbey wished to show Your Grace their appreciation. They asked me if I knew anything that Your Grace really liked, and I was honest; worldly things do not sway the Duke, save one. Everything else they cooked up on their own; I merely told them things that you liked and disliked, and helped arrange for you to be here today." I did not know what to say, but was saved by Arianna's approaching. "I do not mean to disturb you, my lord," she said, "but some of the residents of the Abbey have planned a little event on your behalf. Please allow me to show you the way?" Although I did not fear, I was still guarded as I had no idea what might be in store. I went to signal for my guards to follow, but saw that they were already in formation and ready to move out. Perhaps I alone was in the dark. Arianna and Eve led me across the courtyard to the western of the two stone residence halls of the Abbey. Each was a self-contained living unit; the entry was in the middle of the first floor, as were the communal rooms, the dining hall, kitchens and the like. The two floors above it held small individual rooms designed for the nuns, with a small chapel on the third floor. Entering the hall, I was met by Jauffrey, who was holding some manner of cloth. "Welcome to your very special birthday celebration, my lord," he said, with eyes almost as mischievous as Eve's—something never before seen from the Captain of my guard. "These vineyards the Abbey now tends date back to Roman times. They say that women of the villages would celebrate the harvest with ceremonies dedicated to the god Bacchus. In honor of Your Grace's birthday, the residents would like to stage for you a celebration that recalls Bacchanals of days long past." He held out the cloth, and I could see that it was a white tunic in the Roman style. "In life you may be the Duke, but for tonight, you are the Caesar, Emperor of Rome!" The word Bacchanal could have several shades of meaning, from a debauchery of feasting and wine up to a full-fledged orgy. Regardless of what was all planned on my behalf, it was novel and promised to be entertaining. I slipped behind a screen, emerging with the robe, a toga, and even lace-up sandals like Romans were thought to have worn. Arianna, now also in a Roman-style garment, brought me a crown of branches. As I put it on, Jauffrey and Eve reappeared, also in Roman attire. Jauffrey was always so serious; it was good to see him letting loose a little and playing along with this party. He pointed me towards the dining hall, saying "Hail, Caesar!" The dining hall was much longer than it was wide, and all of the tables had been removed from the left half of the room. However, a large chair had been placed in the middle of the far left wall, and I was led to it; evidently, this would be my throne. There was a small knee-high table next to the chair, but the only other items in this half of the hall were six stand-alone kneelers, the sort used by altar boys or for confessions, to the left of the throne as I sat. I presumed the kneelers were there simply because there had been no other place to put them, but I did notice that all of the windows had been covered up. I settled into my chair, asking "And now?" "Perhaps the emporer would like a drink?" Eve suggested. Not a bad idea, I nodded. "His Highness Caesar requires some drink!" Jauffrey called out. This turned out to be the signal that began the show. A figure emerged from the far end of the room, appearing at first to be carrying a tray. She too was wearing a white Roman gown. She came out of a door at the back left, walked towards a large center aisle formed by staggering the space between the dining tables, then turned and walked directly towards me. Even before I could see her face I recognized her for her wildly curly chestnut hair as Arla, a girl I had sent to the Abbey about three months before. The tray she carried appeared to hold a large pillow. There was also something odd about the way she walked, and as she neared me I made out what it was. She was not, in fact, holding the tray at all, instead, there was a leather collar about her neck as a prisoner might have, and a thin chain ran from the ring set in the collar to the edge of the tray. Further secured by a belt around her torso, she was carrying the tray without the use of her hands—indeed, I could not see her hands at all. She came to a stop right in front of my "throne." I saw that she wore no shoes and had leather cuffs on her ankles as well. I could see now that her arms were drawn behind her; I realized that she likely wore wrist restraints as well, and that they were bound together. I was reminded of when first I found Eve in my dungeon. She knew all too well what I liked. Eve stepped out from behind me and took the pillow from the tray. What I saw then made me draw my breath in deeply—with the pillow no longer in the way, I saw that her tunic was clasped at her right shoulder but not at her left, so that her gown fell loosely across her torso, leaving her left breast completely uncovered. It was pale as was all her skin, with soft freckles here and there, and the nipple was almost brown. Eve threw down the pillow on the ground at my feet. Arla knelt upon it, looking up at me plaintively. She seemed to want something, but...what? Eve bent and whispered into my ear "Arla would be most hurt if you did not accept that which she is offering you." I slowly reached for the exposed breast; her face expectantly anticipated my touch. I touched it with my fingertips; she closed her eyes and gave herself to the sensations I was creating. I gently circled the nipple with my forefinger; in the slight chill of the stone room, it was already erect. Then I cupped my hand, attempting to grasp its entire mass but coming up short; I had not realized how ample the girl's bosom was in my previous encounters with her. As I savored the feel of the breast in my hand, I became aware of a second figure walking down the aisle towards me. She had long, straight fair hair, and was as slender as Arianna but considerably taller—one of the tallest women I'd ever seen, in fact. She was one of the newest residents, and by appearance very young; her name was Sarah. She wore the same robe, only hers was unbound from either shoulder and the top hung loosely from the belt at her midsection, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. She also wore collars and cuffs; the tray suspended from her neck carried a silver goblet. Arla sensed her time was up and stood; perhaps I had unconsciously stopped my gentle squeezing of Arla's breast while watching lovely young Sarah approach. She took a step to the side, where Arianna unclipped and removed the tray. Sarah was now at my feet; Eve took the goblet from her tray and placed it on the small table next to the throne. She now knelt on the pillow. Her breasts were small but their nipples were exceptionally large and firm; I held them and felt their singular texture as I rolled them between my thumb and first two fingers. She two closed her eyes and held her breath as she I touched her sensitive chest. Already a third woman was heading up the aisle. I looked around quickly to see what had become of Arla, and saw that she was now kneeling at the first of the line of kneelers to my left. There were six kneelers; did that mean there would be six lovely "wytches" taking part in this event? My heart began really racing then, and my loins, which had sprung up at the first sight of Arla's breast, were now fully alert. I noticed that in the roomy Roman robe, its growth was not encumbered as it would have been in modern dress. Perhaps the Romans had more things figured out than I realized. Sarah now stood and moved to side to allow Galen to approach. Galen had flame-red hair like Arianna, only she was much meatier in all respects—particularly in the bosom. She had arranged her robe somehow so that it hung from both shoulders but puckered in instead of flaring out, so that her large, pendulous breasts hung out in the open on either side of the fabric. In time her massive glands would sure sag towards the floor, but now in the flower of her youth they still pointed helpfully upwards and outwards. Eve removed a bottle of wine from her tray, and she then knelt before me. I grasped and squeezed her breasts eagerly, fascinated by their texture, as a child might run dig his fingers in wet sand—yet I would be hard pressed to say that I could contain even half of one's entirety in a single hand. Even as I played with Galen's breasts as a child might play with a new toy, Helena was coming up the aisle. Helena was Galen's opposite in many ways. Galen had red hair and pale skin; Helena had dark hair and shaded skin. Galen was zaftig; Helena was slender. Even her dress was opposite; Galen wore her Roman attire so that her breasts spilled out to either side; Helena's was open down the center, framing her on either side but open in the middle to display all of her charms. As she neared I noted that she had even neatly depilated her nether regions in high Greco-Roman style. I was reluctant to let go of Galen's massive mammaries, but I also didn't want to slow the procession. I took a peek to my left and saw that Arla and Sarah both knelt at kneelers there; I felt assured I would have another chance to explore Galen's twin peaks. Galen stood and moved out of the way so Helena could approach. Arianna removed Galen's tray whilst Eve moved the bottle of mead she carried from the tray to the table. Helena did not kneel, however. Rather, she stood over the pillow, straddling one foot to either side, parting her legs in an open-V formation as she stood. She seemed to be thrusting her pelvis out, and looked at me almost in defiance, daring me to touch her shaven crotch. I reached out with my finger and instantly felt the cleft there. Placing my ring and index fingers to either side, I stroked its length with my middle finger. Now Helena closed her eyes; the cleft quickly softened and in no time my finger was sliding deeper in. Because Helena stood I did not see Julienne approach, so it caught me somewhat by surprise when she stepped back from my exploring hand, but her turn was done. I brought my damp finger to my nose and breathed in the scent from Helena's depths even as Julienne knelt before me. She had dark straight hair and pale skin; it was just one of many ways that she reminded me of Eve. But she did not wear a robe like the others; she wore a length of brown leather tied about her waist, reaching down to about mid-thigh at the left but sloping up to only a few inches thick at the right; I couldn't quite see the place where her legs met, but approached from the right side it would not have been difficult to find. She wore it with something like a vest made of the same material, but it only reached halfway down her ribs, leaving her midsection exposed, and the strings that run down it's length lay loose, untied. The result was something of a cat-and-mouse game with her breasts; the vest tried to fall closed, but the mounds underneath pushed it back open—and with her arms tied behind her back as the others had been, the forces pushing it open held the upper hand. Once Eve lifted the bottle of whisky from her tray, I thrust my hands into her vest and savored the warm breasts inside. I realized that while the others had dressed as Roman citizens, Julienne was dressed as a Roman slave. Perhaps playing the part, she cast her eyes down to the ground as I fondled her. How her mind felt about being where she was I could not say, but her nipples responded eagerly to the attention. At last the soon-to-be inhabitant of the sixth kneeler appeared at the back of the hall—Maris, the first resident and leader of the "Wytches' Hotel." Maris wore slave irons as all the girls had, but her wrists were not tied behind her and no tray was suspended from her collar. Rather, she carried with both hands a burlap sack that appeared by the way she carried it to be heavy. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her, with a flower tucked in just above her left ear. She wore a corset that was tightly cinched around her ribs, pushing her breasts up and out for maximum effect, ending just above her navel. She also wore Roman-style sandals whose laces criss-crossed up her thighs almost up to her knees—and that was it. Her private regions were bare, and further her mons too was neatly depilated in Greco-Roman style. Julienne silently moved to the side as Maris took the last few steps towards my throne. I watched her approach tenderly—I knew this escapade must have been primarily her brainchild. I saw the same sort of mischievousness in her eyes that I often caught in Eve, but I also saw a hint of a smile cross her face—she could tell that I was already quite appreciative of the party she had planned for me, and it had barely begun. When she reached the foot of the throne, she knelt on one knee, as a vassal, rather than two. "My Lord Prince Bonir," she began, "all of us that inhabit this hall owe our lives to your charity. We were all poor orphans, fleeing our homes and begging for your mercy. Every other lord in the kingdom had no time for the plight of inconsequential young girls as ourselves, but you heard and answered our pleas. In your wisdom, you not only saved us from the stake, you gave us a way to better ourselves." She reached out the burlap bag towards me. "We had an agreement that Your Grace would receive one-third of profits of our industry. Please accept your lordship's share from the last three months." She paused and waited for me to take the bag. It was heavy; I peeked inside and it was full of gold coins, well over 100 of them. I looked back at Maris, which was the first time I saw that she carried something else; a small hourglass, the kind used in kitchens to time the boiling of eggs. "All of us owe you our very lives, You Grace," she continued, "and we all wish to thank you. We all wanted to return some token of thanks, but the only gift that Your Grace truly appreciates is one that is not easily given. Those you see before you have decided for themselves that they wished to give you that gift, the gift of themselves. Those were not comfortable have helped in other ways, such as preparing Your Grace's birthday feast. Although you see six before you, know that we represent all of the residents of the Abbey in giving you this gift." Maris now stood, and gestured for me to follow as she walked towards Arla and the first of the row of kneelers. "We all with to please you, My Lord, but there is but one of you and six of us. We decided that we would serve Your Grace in the manner that you would have done yourself—we shall share you equally. You may choose whomever you like, and we shall turn over this hourglass while your choice does her best to please Your Grace. When the sand runs out of the hourglass, we hope that you give another of us the chance to show you our appreciation." She handed the hourglass off to Arianna, then brought her arms together behind her. With a click she bound her own wrists together just as the other girls already were, then headed over to occupy the last kneeler in the row. I looked at the row of kneelers. Six pairs of eyes were fixed upon me, waiting to see what I would do, though not all were looking at my face. I noticed that, with their arms bound behind their backs, they tended to learn forward into the kneeler to maintain balance. For several of the girls, the net result was their lovely breasts rested on the armrests of the kneelers like they had been put on trays for display. I quickly scanned up and down the line at the spectacular display of feminine flesh, yet I hesitated. I had an open invitation to enjoy the sensual charms of all six of these fine women, but where to start? What was, or was not, acceptable to do? Eve silently came up behind me. She gently loosened my tunic, releasing my throbbing manhood. "Why not just start at one end and work your way down?" she whispered, uncannily understanding my hesitation. I looked at Arla as she knelt. She was watching my penis intently, then noticed I was looking at her and returned my gaze. And then, still maintaining eye contact, she slowly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, just as many a communicant had probably done upon that very kneeler—but it wasn't the Holy Host that she was jutting out her tongue to receive. I daresay it was the very sacreligiousness of it, her bare breasts resting on the armrest, her arms bound behind her, her mouth open to receive something very unsacramental, that stirred my loins so deeply. As if a spectator to myself; my penis seemingly took over control of the rest of my body; I found myself walking up to the kneeler, and watching as Arla stroked the underside of my penis with her tongue, then reaching forward as best she could provided it with a soft, warm home inside of her mouth. Off to the side, Arianna flipped over the hourglass. I watched myself disappear between her lips while inside feelings of immense pleasure raced up my spine. And I soon realized that the kneeler was at an extremely convenient height; my at-rest arms ended inches away from her breasts. One breast was still covered, but with the loose fabric there was no hindrance to my slipping my hand underneath it to reach the breast. With literally no effort her nipples were between my fingers. As I kneaded them their inimitable texture added yet another source of pleasure. It just didn't get any better than this. Prince Bonir Vol. 03 The reverie of pleasure was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. "Time's up, my lord," Eve whispered. It was a good thing she was keeping time; no man in the position I was in would have the resolve in and of himself to draw away otherwise, not even with the promise of exactly the same treatment two feet away. One long stride to the right and I stood before Sarah. Between her height and her minimal cleavage, her breasts did not rest on the armrest of the kneeler. Further, she was so tall she had to bend down slightly to give my penis full access to her throat. But with her long neck, my entire length fit in her throat comfortably; I found myself holding her long golden hair and reaching deeply into her throat in the occasionally successful attempt to feel her lips make contact with the flesh at the very base of the tower. I was astounded that not once did my burrowing cause her to gag. As amazing as that was, my heart still leapt when the tap on my shoulder announced it was time to move on, for next was Galen. Galen possessed not only the flame-red hair I so admired, but veritable watermelons protruded from her chest. I eagerly grasped at her bust with both hands; when I put my hands under them, there was enough excess to hide my hands completely. I alternated between stroking their soft flesh and tweaking their nipples. At one point I cupped both hands under one breast, and found it could just barely rest comfortably in the combined space. However, Galen also turned out to be somewhat timid; she tried to replicate what she had seen Arla and Sarah accomplish, but only the first few inches of my length slipped past her lips, and then she didn't seem to have any sense as to what was the proper rhythm to maintain excitement. It dawned on me that this might not be something she'd ever done before, but neither was this the time to teach. After a few minutes I decided to go with her strengths rather than her shortcomings; I knelt on one knee and gently chewed on her nipple. She closed her eyes and sighed slightly. I then pressed the mounds together and moved my tongue rapidly back and forth from the one the other. Knowing my time with Galen for now was running short, I wished one more thing—I stood up, placed my member between her mounds, then squeezed them tightly around myself. I then rubbed myself up and down between them. Her breasts provided just the sort of arousing that she had not yet learned to provide with her tongue. Time was up. I moved towards Helena, but as I did I caught a glimpse of Maris, and frankly, she seemed bored. I looked back at Arla and Sarah and they, too, were disinterested. It dawned on me that while I was constantly busy, they were consigned to kneeling for a half-hour with nothing to do between turns. And that was a waste, I realized, because there were other men here too. I found myself announcing an idea before I'd even thought it through. This amazing gift was one thing, and now I was asking the givers to do more than they'd expected—the whole thing could have blown up in my face. Fortunately, it did not. Since this Bacchanal was carnal in nature, why not turn it into a full-blown Roman orgy. "This gift is too wonderful for one man to enjoy!" I declared. "Jauffrey, guards, please give the ladies something to do while they kneel here. Fifteen gold pieces to the girl who satisfies the most men!" My attention turned to Helena caressing me, but everyone else was caught by surprise. Was this OK? What should they do? Jauffrey made eye contact with Sarah, and her expression seemed to say "Well, why not? As long as I'm doing this anyway, better than kneeling here bored." So Jauffrey hesitantly loosened his tunic and approached her kneeler. As soon as she could reach, Sarah bent forward and swallowed him whole. Once Jauffrey was involved, the two guards in the dining room wasted no time getting in on the action. One made a beeline to Galen and her massive jugs, the other placed himself where Arla could caress him. This was better—now four girls could be busy at the same time—and not every eye in the room was watching me the whole time. "Time's up! Time to switch!" Eve now announced out loud so that we would all move on to the next girl. The guard to my right was now sucked by Helena, Jauffrey by Galen, and the last guard by Sarah. It was my turn now with Julienne. There was something maddeningly sexy about the way her breasts were sort of covered, sort of not by the open vest she wore. With a smile on my face I thrust my hands under the fabric and groped her breasts. For her part, Julienne was fixated on my crotch, stretching to get as close to it as she could. Her goal was to swallow me whole as Sarah had, but the structure of her neck and jaw just couldn't quite accommodate it. But she was persistent and would not give up the attempt, for which I was grateful. I do not deny that I am a very privileged man, especially when it comes to pleasures of the flesh. My soldiers did not have the bountiful access to female flesh that I enjoyed, and so it took less stimulation to get them to achieve the ultimate objective. I heard a grunt to my left; peering over, it was obvious that the first guard had climaxed and was now erupting inside Sarah's mouth. "That's one for Sarah!" I announced cheerfully. Once spent, the guard shook his head, like he had been dreaming and suddenly awakened to find himself in a most unexpected situation. I called him over with my finger. He hastily readjusted his attire just as Eve called "time's up!" We all moved one to the right. At last I had reached Maris, the wonderfully cunning mastermind of this party. She took me into her mouth, but here eyes were fixed up at me, reading my face for guidance as to how she could best please me. I looked back at those eyes, whose sole purpose at that moment was to bring me pleasure, and decided I was quite partial to that approach. The guard was now next to me, however, worried that despite my invitation I would be cross at him for having accepted. "Good work man," I smiled slyly, slapping him on the back. He shrugged sheepishly. "But there are four other guards outside that have not had the chance you have. Go and relieve one of them that he might join the party." He smiled, nodded, and raced out the door. Minutes later, two guards peered in suspiciously, no doubt completely skeptical of the story they had just heard. I waved them over to join the fun. The signal was given to switch, and I went back around to the start again with Arla. The two guards hurried over and took up positions to my right. I felt her pleasure me and played with the exposed breast, but my attention was also divided by the spectacle of the other men receiving favors from the good ladies of the Abbey. The face on the guard being serviced by Helena was simply comical, so twisted was it with disbelief at the sensations he was receiving. I didn't know for certain if any of the girls were virgins, but I'd bet the kingdom that he was. My attention was then diverted to the end of the line, as the guard in front of Maris was just about there. I commented "Ah...ah..." by way of buildup. When he closed his eyes, arched his back and grabbed hold of Maris by the back of the head, there was no question he was done. "Score one for Maris!" I cried. "Maris and Sarah tied, 1-1." "Time's up!" Eve announced. The guard that had just climaxed now went to relieve the two guards that had not yet had a chance to take part in the festivities. I never saw them arrive, however, for now I was back to Sarah, and in case she hadn't realized it before, she certainly knew now that her ability to engulf someone's manhood in it's entirety within her long throat was an especially prized gift. While I was interested in what was going on around me, the insistent pleasurable sensations of Sarah's long strokes refused to let go of my attention. Without even thinking, I rested my hands gently on her head. The guard in front of Julienne climaxed, but I was unaware—I couldn't say if someone updated the score or not. All I could think of was that gentle tongue and the way her throat could gently pressure the entire length of my sex. It was I that now closed my eyes and arched my back as my family jewels spit forth their contents. "The score is now Sarah 2, Maris 1, and Julienne 1," I heard Eve's voice say behind me. "Time's up!" I returned to my senses slowly; first I became aware of Sarah, looking up at me wide-eyed. Then I realized that she couldn't move—I still held her head tightly over my penis. I let go of her hair and withdrew, allowing her to swallow the prize she had earned. I noted a faint smile on her face—perhaps pride that it had been she that had pleasured the Duke. Then I realized that there was a soldier standing quietly behind me and off to the side—I was holding up the line. I stepped back, bowing and gesturing as if to say "After you." He happily stood in front of Sarah, and without missing a beat she swallowed him whole. I semi-staggered back to my throne to watch the rest of the show. In doing so, I almost missed half of it; I heard Eve say "Score one for Arla," and turned to see Jauffrey obviously experiencing absolute pleasure under Arla's tender ministrations. I smiled to see my captain getting off, only to then hear "score another for Maris." I turned and saw a guard twisted up in ecstasy before Maris' kneeler. "The score is now Sarah and Maris 2, Arla and Julienne 1, Helena and Galen still 0." I asked Arianna to fill my goblet with mead, and sipped the cup as I watched the contest unfold. There were but two guards, the last to arrive, that could sway the outcome of the contest. One stood before Julienne, the other before Sarah. "Time's up," came the call, and each moved over one. Maris could all but guarantee victory if she succeeded in making the guard climax. She was watching his face closely and trying to her best to maximize his pleasure, but I think that he started to become self-aware of people watching him now, which inhibited him for being fully in the moment. The other, as all of us had done, had a ball playing with Galen's breasts, but her technique was not likely to bring anyone to ultimate satisfaction. "Time's up!" came the call again. Helena and Arla now had a chance to add to their totals; the others could do nothing but watch. The guard before Helena cheated a little; with one hand he held her breast, with the other he reached back and continued to explore Galen's massive globes. With the best of both worlds at his fingertips so to speak, in no time Helena, too, ended up on the scoreboard. There was now just one guard left. If Arla succeeded in pleasuring him, we would have a three way tie for first. I was deciding whether I should award three prizes, or organize a playoff. I wasn't quite ready to cast the tiebreaking, uh, vote just yet, but then again, with Sarah's throat...or Maris' breasts... "Time's up" called Eve. "Aww," Arla kidded. She probably would have needed another five minutes with him; now there was virtually no chance he'd get back to her. It also gave Sarah, arguably the most skilled of the lot, the chance to win outright. The guard hadn't been to Sarah yet. You could tell from his body language when she first swallowed his entirety that he wouldn't be going any further. Sarah could tell, too, and relentlessly increased his arousal. With plenty of sand still in the hourglass, his back stiffened, and it was plain that he was in the throes of climax. "Hurrah!" I exclaimed, "well done!" He now slouched his shoulders and backed away, straightening his clothes. Sarah stuck out her tongue, providing proof of her victory in the event any doubted it. I reached into the sack of coins and retrieved the winner's prize. All six of the girls, with some difficulty, stood up. Eve was already busily unlocking each girl's wrists. I walked over to Sarah and, once her arms were freed, handed her the prize. "Here you go," I said, "for a job very, very well done." Another of the resident's popped out from the back of the room. "Hail Caesar," she cried, "my Lord's dinner is ready! Does Caesar wish to eat at this time?" "Yes, by all means, let us eat," I replied. There was one table set, with four settings. "This will not do," I declared, "there are not just four of us here; there are at least six guards and at least six residents here as well. Set places for them at once! And anyone else who is here!" It was a request easily accommodated, as there were unset tables to either side of the one reserved for me—the ease with which setting were located made me thing that it had been anticipated that I would want everyone to be part of the dinner. I sat between Arianna and Eve, with Jauffrey second to my left. The six "Roman" girls took the table to the left, while the guards rotated taking part the dinner and being on the watch. Once I was seated, the dinner procession began. Six other residents were the serving wenches for the event, and they streamed in and out of the kitchen with one plate after another. Even the chef had a special surprise for me—a new sauce from France he had learned of, and it was wonderful. There was enough food to feed the entire village; I didn't try to accomplish that, but I did send the leftovers over to the other hall for the nuns to enjoy. During dinner, another entertainment had been arranged. Eve—apparently Maris had tapped her to be master of ceremonies, and a wise choice it was—announced it with the mysterious proclamation "O Great Caesar, for your dining pleasure we bring you entertainments from the farthest reaches of your empire." I was skeptical at first when Luce walked out from the back room. Most of the accused witches were young women, but not all—spinsters, for instance, were at risk because being unmarried was itself odd and they tended not to have other people defend them in the back-room conversations where rumors begin. In age Luce was somewhere between my mother and ancient Sister Perpetua. She was wearing a loose Moorish robe and Bedouin headdress. She took up a position along the far wall across from me, then produced a wooden recorder from her loose sleeves. Luce began to play a strange, exotic melody, and as she did, another figure appeared in the doorway. She was shrouded from head to foot in loose, flowing, semi-sheer robes, such that only her eyes and bare feet were visible. She seeming floated along the back wall, fabric flowing almost cloudlike, as she moved to a position in the middle of the open floor before my table. She stood squarely on one foot, bending the other leg so only her toes touched the floor, and waited for the music to change. I was to be treated, it seemed, to the Dance of the Seven Veils. The dancer was not Salome of course, but though I could see but a patch of light brown skin and dark flashing eyes, I knew the dancer must be Kamilah. There were tragic tales behind why most of the residents of the Abbey ended up here, but none perhaps as sad as Kamilah's story. Kamilah was an actual Moor, born and raised in Morocco, where she was met by a merchant seaman who fell madly in love with her. His route brought him back to Morocco three times a year, and their passion grew. Thus it was that on one of his returns, she informed him that she was carrying his child. The sailor loved her, and was prepared to stay in Morocco to support them—but her father, enraged that his daughter would defile the family name by consorting with foreigners, dragged her into the marketplace wielding a dagger, fully intending to execute her in the town square. The sailor's boat had fortunately not left; one of her friends raced to harbor to tell him. Enlisting his crewmates as support, he raced to the town square and faced off against the father—but no compromise could be reached, as neither spoke the other's language and Kamilah was in no position to translate. So he forcibly freed her, setting off a riot in the square that allowed them to escape to the harbor. The crew raced to port and pulled up anchor, sailing back as the mob yelled and lobbed rocks at them from the pier. He stowed Kamilah in his hammock the entire return trip. Upon his return to the capital he married her and set about trying to support them working at the docks. This did not sit well with his family, however, not just because she was a Moor, and not just because they had desperately needed a dowry, but because in his absence they had arranged for him to marry someone else. For several years they lived so, estranged from all but beloved by each other, and she bore him two children in that time. But when the plague came, dockworkers were among the first to fall ill. He and much of his family perished. Kamilah and the children, however, did not fall ill, perhaps because of their Moorish blood. To his family, however, this was proof that Kamilah's witchcraft had caused the plague, and hers themselves kidnapped the children and brought charges against Kamilah. With no one to turn to, she went to the only people she knew—the former shipmates of her husband, who told her she should escape to Averic. While the other residents saved their earnings in the hopes of establishing a dowry or perhaps opening a shop and leaving the abbey, Kamilah was in a more difficult place. All she wanted was to get her children back, but she faced execution as a witch if she tried to reclaim them, and she couldn't even return to Morocco, or she would be executed by her own family. Like most of the other residents, however, since the facts of her life could not be changed, she made the best of where she was—being sad every day, even if understandable, is no way to live one's life. And this dance would be the most authentic ever witnessed in the kingdom—and it was just for me. The music changed tempo, and Kamila began to twirl and sway. She had small cymbals attached to her finger, and using them she established a rhythm to punctuate the recorder music. It was hard to tell exactly what she was doing under all those veils, but that didn't last long, as soon after she started the first veil, an over-sheet covering most of her body, was sent floating towards the ground. Under it was a long veil like a skirt and another that covered her top, but there was a small strip at her belly where the two did not meet. And now that this could be seen, it was clear that her dance involved flexing and moving her belly in directions that did not seem humanly possible. The next veil to come off had covered the top of her head, so that now her dark brown, curly hair could be seen. It was gathered up into a brass ring of sorts set close to the top of her head, then allowed to flow out again naturally on the other side. The ring, however, allowed her to snap her hair this way or that in rhythm with the music if desired. The third veil had covered both of her arms; as she let the long, square rectangle go, her arms were bare to the shoulder. You could now see delicate movements accompanying the impossible gymnastics of the dance. The fourth veil was rather like an overskirt. When she let it go, you could see she was wearing some strange sort of trousers that were flowing, loose and nearly sheer except for a golden, decorative border where they suddenly came together and held tightly to her ankles. The top of the pants could not be seen, however, as another veil was wrapped around her where her legs met her torso. The fifth veil was wrapped around her torso. She was very slow and deliberate in unwrapping it from herself. She would hold open one side of the veil, spinning rapidly so that you could just glimpse the flesh underneath before she closed it and hid it away again. I understood now the fabled teasing power of the Dance of the Seven Veils—if she had danced like this for her late husband, and I'm sure she must have, I could see where no amount of family pressure could have dissuaded him from marrying her. But as I watched I hadn't realized how I entranced I was by the dance until I felt Eve's gentle fingers seeking and beginning to caress my manhood. I realized that there was a bite of food in my hand, halfway to my mouth, and that I had completely forgotten about it and had been frozen, rapt, for who knows how long. Eve must have noticed and known that if the erotic dance held the power to freeze the rest of me, it would certainly not have gone unnoticed by my phallus. I put the now-cold bite of food down to watch the rest of the dance. Prince Bonir Vol. 03 Kamila began to spin very rapidly, and at the height of the spin let the fifth veil go. It floated towards me briefly before wafting towards the ground. When it ceased obscuring my view, Kamila was standing still, one arm over her head, one arm pointed downward, and writhing her hips in impossible directions. She still wore a top like the "bikini" top worn by Minoan athletes, with colorful gold fabric covering her breasts and thin straps holding it in place. There was also a line of short fringe all along the underside of it which swayed as she danced, accentuating her movements. She made it look smooth, almost effortless, and yet the rippling of the muscles of her midsection belied just how much athletic ability this dance really took to perform. My erection was quite pleased to have Eve attending to it. The sixth veil was wrapped around her waist. As she unwrapped it, she entwined it about her arms, so that the veil became like an extension of them. As she twirled, they streamed behind her, creating almost a full arc around her. Another surprise; the pants she wore did not cover her legs, but more like sheathed them at the sides; the fabric was not gathered in the front or the back. When the veil was over them, it had kept the two halves together, but now as she danced her legs peered out from its sheer veiling, from her ankles to just below her hips, where solid fabric matching her top covered her pelvis and kept the whole thing together. My own loins stretched towards the spectacle; had Eve not been stroking me under the table, the wine I had been drinking might have prevented me from keeping my seat. The music slowed. She let the sixth veil go, and now slunk closer to my table, teasingly toying with the final veil—the one covering her face. The music did not end, however, when she deposited the seventh veil upon my table. She continued dancing, and what little she still wore accentuated its eroticism. Still dancing, she ceased clashing the cymbals for a minute, and reached behind herself. She twirling around towards my table, and next thing I new, she had deposited her top beside the veil and now danced completely topless. "Oh..." Eve commented proudly, "she had told us she wasn't comfortable doing that. Perhaps seeing what the others had done made her change her mind." "I'm quite glad she did," I whispered back, and I meant it. She was doing some kind of thing where she bent over backwards, then without help of her hand she straightened herself from the ribs up. The move was made so much more enticing when I could watch her free breasts writhing along with the rest of her. I could not look away had I wanted to. She continued to dance, and I continued to stare. Eve's hand, meanwhile, increased it's pace in response to my greater turgidity. Kamila came very close to the table, bending forward with the hands straight out to the sides. She very rapidly made short twists of her torso, which made her breasts pendulate from side to side. I tried to follow the course of one of her brown nipples as it raced to and for, and could hold myself no longer. Eve reached for a napkin and used it to wipe up the souvenir I had left in her hand. The music stopped—I think Eve had given them a signal that their mission was accomplished. Kamila bent one knee to the floor, bent the other leg in front of her, and bowed almost to the floor. "Bravo! Bravo!" I cheered, standing. Another benefit of Roman attire; even if your privates had been completely exposed when seated, merely standing up neatly covered them again. The soldiers followed my lead and stood and cheered; they were as rapt as I. I motioned for the bag of gold, and declared "I understand for the first time how Herod could have been so overcome by the dance to have been tricked into the execution of John the Baptist. By way of thanks, please accept this gift!" She came forward and graciously accepted twenty gold pieces, plus five for her accompanist. As I sat back down, I became aware for the first time that the "witches" table was empty. "Where have the lovely ladies gone?" I asked. "They slipped away during the dance to prepare themselves for the last part of the festivities," Eve replied. "Oh?" I asked. How could they top what they had already done? As if in answer, as the others were serving dessert, one of the serving wenches came out with a large, open wooden box. She came and placed it on the table in front of me. It contained two dozen sheaths, all rolled and lying open-end up such that it looked like a box of blooming flowers. I turned quizzically to Eve, but she pointed me to my dessert first. And enjoying the sweets gave me just enough time to recuperate my juices for the grand finale. -------------------- After dessert I was led downstairs, cup still in hand and being filled regularly. There was a dark hallway, with five doors closed doors along one side. As three guards wrestled my throne-chair downstairs, Eve explained the final part of the festivities. "There are five doors in this hallway," she explained, "and in each one, you will find a different experience awaiting you. As before, we shall inform you when the hourglass empties. You may at that time try a different door, or you may remain, your choice. There are signs on the doors to help you find a particular room, should you wish to revisit it." "Outstanding!" I replied with gusto. "Then I will also offer a prize as before. 25 gold pieces to the girl who collects the most filled sheaths!" And with that, I entered the first room, whose door was marked "Culare," Latin (what else, if I was supposed to be Caesar) for "spank." Upon entering I found two kneelers had been set next to each other back-to-back so that the high sides of the kneelers faced out in either direction, forming something like an open-topped box. Bent over the top of it was Julienne, completely bare now save her slave collar, cuffs and anklets. Her ankles were chained to the bottom of one kneeler, her wrists to the bottom of the other, so that she was helpless in her bent-over position. There was a small table nearby which held a small paddle and a thin switch. The purpose here was clear. I walked around to the front first; Julienne could barely lift her head enough to see someone standing before her there, and when she let her head fall her long dark hair obscured her face. I brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled; she regarded me with nervousness. "Fear not, I shall not hurt you badly," I reassured her, "but first, please help me get in the right spirit." I pulled up my robe, and then thought better of it and tossed it aside entirely. Then I brought my erection up under her chin and forced her face down onto it. I used her face for a few minutes until I was completely aroused, then pursued the intent of the experience, saying "Thanks for the implements, but I prefer to use my bare hands." I went round to her backside, jutting up in the air and chained into place. Her skin was so very pale, save the dark patch between her legs, with just the faintest hint of pink hidden beneath. I rubbed her one buttock with my hand with some force, then gave it a slap. I did the same to the other. Already the pale skin was beginning to show a flush. There was another flush I wished to achieve, however. I switched sides again, continuing my pattern of rubbing hard and then slapping the taut rump. But now as I slapped her rump with the right hand, I reached up and under and burrowed into the dark thatch between her thighs with my left index finger. Soon I found the cleft that I sought, and stroked it with increasing intensity. Now I had her going both ways. As I rubbed her buttocks, I also rubbed her sex, creating pleasurable sensations, which I then punctuated with short bursts of pain as I smacked her again without relenting on my pressure on her cleft. Her cheeks reddened nicely, and I felt the cleft swell and dampen. I paused for a moment to inspect my progress. Her cheeks were now blush-red. Then I gently pried with my fingers, and found her now excited cleft was almost the same shade. Excellent, I thought. I put on my first sheath and forced myself into the cleft. The tunnel I explored was quite narrow. Although I saw no blood, few men had previously been where now I was. I immediately fell into a pattern; I would thrust into the tight space, then pull back most, but not quite all, of the way, leaving me just enough space to fondle and then spank each cheek again. Thus re-reddened, I again pushed forward and forced myself past the curtains that lay suspended before me. I was just starting to really enjoy it when the knock came at the door. I briefly toyed with ignoring it, but there were four other rooms to explore—who knew what wonders awaited me there? I could always come back for more if I wished, later. I picked up my discarded robe and walked out in the altogether, sheath still firmly in place. I went to the next door down while Jauffrey took my place in the first room. The sign on this door said "Constringo," Latin for tied down or restrained. Entering, I found a straw-stuffed mattress on the floor, with Galen lying upon it. Her arms were chained to its top corners and her ankles to the bottom corners of the mattress, leaving her unable to move and in a completely open position. When first I entered, Eve was kneeling with her face between Galen's open thighs, and I quickly realized she was trying to ensure that Galen was prepared for penetration when her first "suitor" arrived. That was very thoughtful of Eve, especially since I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into those meaty breasts. "Is she ready?" I asked. "She is at your command," Eve answered, rising. I caught Eve briefly as she left the room, kissing her quickly, smelling Galen's juices on her face. Then I turned to the mattress, nearly jumping onto and immediately plunging into Galen, then turning my attention to her pale, pink-tipped mountains. I slipped into and out of her absent-mindedly while I again reveled in her breasts—at times forgetting to keep thrusting, only to catch myself and pick up the slack with a burst of intense fornication. At one point I pinched a nipple between my teeth to see just how far I could stretch it. She winced slightly, so I let it go, then thrust with increased vigor. She closed her eyes and tilted back her head, framed as it was by the flame red of her hair. She may not have been as skilled as the others with her tongue, but here where she could let her God-given gifts do what they were intended to do, she was astounding. Then I noticed the ripples that echoed across her breasts in response to every penetration, especially when they came in rapid succession—had the knock not come at the door just then, I would not have made it to the third room. The third room was marked "Duo," Latin for two or pair. Aptly, it contained not one but two residents, Arla and Sarah. They too had a straw mattress, and both of them had long chains attached to their collars and connected to a pole set just above the mattress. When I came in, they were facing opposite directions, each with her face buried between the other's thighs. Hearing me come in, though, they quickly turned their attention to tag-teaming me. They made a good pair. Arla had brown hair and decently large (though no comparison to Galen) breasts, Sarah was tall, lean and fair. The urged me to lie on my back, at which time Sarah took me into her mouth while Arla first fed me her breasts, then allowed me to taste her musky pungency. It was nice to be able to lay there and let the women do the work, but thanks to Eve and Arianna, a threesome was not as new and exciting an experience as the first two rooms had been. I predicted that they would do very well, however, with my less experienced guards. When the knock came, I moved on to the fourth door, which was marked "Natis"—a Latin word for buttocks or backside. I expected it would be Helena, for I was certain that as before Maris had left herself for last. Whether or not it would be the best—I was game to finding out. It was going to be hard to top Helena, however. There was a heavy table in the middle of the room. Helena, naked as all of them now were, was bend over the table. Her wrists were bound together, and they in turn were fastened somewhere beneath the table. Thus, true to the sign, Helena's bare rump was the feature in this room. Eve was standing over it—I wondered where she had gone after leaving Galen's room—and doing something, I wasn't quite sure what. As I approached, I saw that she had a finely fluted wine bottle, which she was gently coaxing into the smaller of the orifices there, trying to stretch it to accommodate a different sort of insertion. There was a small table next to Eve; I had dismissed the jar upon it as some sort of beverage at first, but realized that it held an oil to help reduce chafing friction when penetrating an area that could not lubricate itself. I had heard of so-called "Greek style" lovemaking of course, but hadn't ever seriously considered asking either of my lovely concubines to try it. It seemed I would be getting my chance nonetheless. "Rub the oil into the sheath, my lord," Eve said, still concentrating on her task but somehow knowing it would be me. "I think she will be ready when you are." I oiled myself until the sheath slid easily between my fingers, then walked up to Eve's shoulder. She tested the sheath herself, then looked up and gave me a big, knowing smile. Pulling the bottle out, she backed away, and before the hole could close itself too tightly for me to enter, I pushed into her backside. It was interesting. The tight muscle, trying to close and expel me, provided exquisite sensations as it squeezed my phallus. But once past the tight sphincter, I could barely feel anything at all (especially wearing the sheath). Helena did her best to remain relaxed in response to my probing. I turned to make a sly comment to Eve about trying this with her someday, but she had silently left the room. I could only imagine that I would see her in five minutes, helping prepare Maris in Room five. My time with Helena seemed to pass twice as quickly as it had in the others. I think perhaps it was because I knew well what I was doing in the other rooms, whereas I was still learning on the job about "going Greek." Again I seriously considered ignoring the knock, but then I pictured Maris waiting in the next room, doing her best to save the best for last. After organizing this wonderful orgy on my behalf, I owed her the chance to do just that. The sign on the last door read "Servus," Latin for slave. I rather liked the sound of that already. I reached for the door, only to have it open by itself as Eve excused herself. "I knew I'd find you here," I remarked. "I think you'll like what's inside," she replied with a wink. She was right, of course. There was another large table in this room. Whereas Helena had been chained face-down, Maris lay on her back. Her wrists were both chained to their corresponding ankles, forcing her bent knees far apart. She was carefully positioned so that her pelvis lined up exactly with the edge of the table. With all of the hair neatly removed from between her thighs, there were no barriers to her sex, already flush pink thanks to Eve's preparation. I smiled warmly at Maris as I pushed myself past her curtain and accepted her offering. She did not smile back, but rather watched me intently. It made me a little self-conscious at first; it seemed like she did not even want to blink lest she miss something. I stopped thrusting for a moment lest something was wrong, but her response was to try to push herself her pelvis out and onto me. Clearly she wished that I continue, so I thrust again. The corners of her mouth upturned just for a second, but the eyes never stopped searching me. I pushed myself right up against her and reaching as far as I could into her. She responded by trying to squeeze me, to push back and help me reach new depths. Suddenly I remembered the first time she had pleasured me, back in the dungeon at Castle Averic, and it clicked—she was staring at me thus because she was so intent on pleasing me. She was watching my face for any sign of what I liked, so that she could do more of that. With that I relaxed, and feel into a natural rhythm. Her breasts recoiled enticingly with every stroke; I reached and held one to feel it rebounding from my thrusting. I peeked at Maris' face and found it still peering at me intently, only now it appeared erotic rather than threatening. I felt her lift her shoulder slightly to bring the breast I was touching closer to my hand, and I felt her try to part her thighs even wider than they were. I found myself responding favorably to Maris' singleness of purpose—indeed, who could not? The pace of my strokes increased. I met Maris' gaze—she really was beautiful. Her golden hair lay around her like a crown; I let go of her breast and gently touched her cheek. She responded by turning her head slightly, watching me all the while, and sucking my thumb—not as a child sucks a thumb, mind you, but as if my thumb were my phallus. She caressed it and stoked it with her tongue—I was surprised how her attention to my thumb heightened the pleasure I felt at the other end. Then it was her face—even more so than the eyes, the look on her face as she sucked my thumb made me feel like the only thing in the world that she wanted was for me to climax inside of her. I blinked for a second, looked again at her beautiful face, then down to her breasts, and decided I could comply. It caught her off-guard for but a moment; I moved my hands so they were next to the small of her waist and adjusted myself so that rather than stroking with horizontal strokes, I was now penetrating her from a slightly downwards angle. And once I was stably situated, I redoubled my speed and thrust for all I was worth. Maris recovered quickly; she did her best to try to lift her pelvis back towards me on every upstroke, and parting herself widely on every downstroke. The force of my lust was pushing her slowly across the table; she hooked her toes onto the edge of the table and did her best to pull herself back towards me in-between strokes. And all the while, her eyes gazed at me, trying to see if there was anything else she could that would bring me pleasure. Of course there wasn't—there was not a single thing humanly possible that could have brought me pleasure more effectively than what she was doing at that moment. And as a result, at that very moment my thrusting came to fruition. I walked around to the side of the table. Perhaps I shouldn't have done this, but I bent over Maris and tongue-kissed her. This would quite possibly be the most pleasurably night of my life, and it was all her brainchild. The knock on the door quite possibly saved me from doing something that I might have later regretted. I left my filled sheath at the far edge of the table and retreated to the throne-chair in the hall. Score one for Maris. ---------------------- After a rest, I went back in with Helena in the "Natis" room, and ignored all knocks at the door until I rewarded her with a filled sheath. I think that the experience she offered was a little too exotic for the others, however, for in the end (no pun intended) that was the only full sheath she turned in. After my second visit to Helena, unfortunately, I was finished. I sat in my throne at the head of the hall as the other men moved from one door to another, but even though Eve sat in my lap and allowed me to happily play with and kiss her breasts, her nipples were the only things that became erect as a result. I just didn't have anything left to give, so to speak. So I just sat there, playing with Eve, and waiting for the final tallies to come in. Prince Bonir Vol. 04 Vol. 4: Defense of the Realm It was a sad day when the messenger arrived to announce that my uncle, the king, had passed away. It was also exciting; I had come to know my cousin very well when I first began my knight's training, and now he would become King Edelbert III. I packed up with my entourage—my sister Elizabeth, my consorts Eve and Arianna, plus six guards and their captain Jauffrey—for at least two weeks stay at the royal palace. Nobles from across the land were arriving to pay their last respects to the departed king and swear their allegiance at the coronation of Edelbert. The delegation from Arkandia was still lingering in the great hall when we arrived and were announced. As I walked up the long carpet I saw the strain on "Eddy's" face; I knew too well the feeling of being suddenly overwhelmed by responsibilities and people I didn't know. The relief of a familiar face was readily apparent. I removed my sword, placed it point-down perpendicular to the ground, then knelt behind it as the members of my party knelt behind me. "You highness, the province of Averic swears it's allegiance to his majesty, King Edelbert!" I proclaimed. "Cousin Bonir," the king replied in a less formal tone, much as I might have done. We were alike in many ways. "It is good to see you again. Come, I shall show you to your rooms myself." This caught the court somewhat by surprise, as he had not done this with the other nobles, but neither had they been like a brother to the king for much of his teen years. Jauffrey and the guards took their leave to set up camp along with the others in the fields surrounding the town; the Royal Guard and the King's Knights held jurisdiction here. He had servants take my sister to her room in the south tower, where the virginity of the unmarried female royalty was closely guarded, while leading me towards the north tower. Eve and Arianna followed me, ten steps behind as demanded by protocol. "Bonny!" he said once we out of earshot, "it's good to see a familiar face!" He was the only person that I allowed to call me Bonny—but if he wanted to speak to me as a brother, I would as well. "This is an exciting time, Eddy," I replied—his face did not flinch at my use of his old nickname. He knew that I could be trusted to not err and address him so in public. "But I remember how overwhelming it was when I first became Duke, and you have so many more strangers to meet than I ever did. Really, and I'm not just saying this—anything I can do to help, just let me know." "Thank you, cousin," he replied, "and I know you mean that. But...I did not know you would be bringing an entourage. I have but a single room set aside for you, and of the rooms of the castle are already assigned ..." "There is no problem, my lord," I explained, "Eve and Arianna shall share my quarters with me." Eddy's eyebrow shot up. "Oh? And Eve and Arianna are..." "My consorts," I interjected. That really took him by surprise. I kidded him "Eddy, Eddy... you're king now! You have power! If you wish to maintain female companionship, who is to tell you that you cannot?" I then explained how Eve and Arianna had initially been accused of witchcraft, but after exonerating them I still could not return them to their home provinces. Bringing them into my household was a good deal for both parties. I told him also of the "Wytch's Hotel," although I did not tell him of the orgy they had thrown in my honor for my last birthday (see Prince Bonir #3: The Roman Orgy). I could see the king mentally taking notes. I knew he was not superstitious, and was intrigued by Averic's novel approach to witchcraft—but nowhere near as much as he was intrigued at the thought of keeping an ingénue for his personal entertainment. "Don't get me wrong, I am quite attached to both Eve and Arianna, but as you know we can only marry a woman of certain station. In our station, however, we are in a position to provide a good life to more than one worthy woman." There was a time rumors abounded of Eddy's "wenching" about the town, something he clearly could no longer do as king. Why he hadn't thought of avoiding scandal by keeping a regular concubine, I did not know. The second day after our arrival was the formal funeral, and two days after that the coronation. I had a wonderful time the whole time, however, as the three of us were consigned to sharing one bed for the duration. I always tried hard to share myself equally with both, and we soon devised all manner of pleasure games. Reminiscent of my birthday, I would have Eve and Arianna lie naked on the bed, side by side (or occasionally the lighter Arianna stacked on top of Eve), alternating whose loins I would penetrate every time the sand in a small hourglass ran out. But that always left one of them literally out in the cold for a time, so we varied the game so that I would focus the attention of my mouth or hands on one while buried between the thighs of the other. One night the girls played a game whereby they blindfolded me and I had to identify by feel alone whose mouth or genital I was feeling. It was interesting to learn that I never failed to identify a breast or a nipple with my mouth; that I was very accurate at identifying a mouth or tongue with my penis but less so than with my own mouth; and that my penis had great difficulty differentiating one girl's sex from the other. However, my accuracy went way up when my hands or even just the feeling of weight gave me additional information about the body to whom the genital belonged, and again was nearly perfect when using my tongue, which allowed me to identify each girl's unique scent. Sadly, protocol did not allow me to bring Eve and Arianna with me to the formal coronation, and fealty ceremony or coronation banquet. Eventually I was able to sneak them in to the coronation ball, however. Early on, the unmarried females of royal descent were all on top of their game, being their most charming in the hopes of attracting the eye of one of the few unmarried lords in attendance. Of course all of them had their eyes on the big prize, the King himself. They understood that he almost certainly would have to marry a princess from another land, but this simply drove them to work all the harder to try to get him to fall madly in love with them. It had been centuries since there was a reigning regent without a queen. I emerged as the second choice; although there were plenty of others, I was already the reigning Duke, plus my background with the King's Elite Guard seemed to play in my favor. With every dance I had many more willing partners than I could accommodate. To gain our attention, some chose the route of bawdiness, acting in ways more becoming of a serving wench than royalty in the hopes of enticing our attention. These, understandably, tended to be lower-ranking ladies, with less chance of marrying up and thus less to lose. Sadly, they succeeding mostly in attracting the drooling attention of older, married lords, entranced by their youth and ignoring the glaring looks of their spouses. Both sides in this game went home with their wild hopes unfulfilled. Others, my sister among them, took the high road and attempted to charm with beauty, wit, and grace. I had to admit that my sister truly shone in this, the arena for which she had been trained since birth. Had she not been my sister I would have said she was quite attractive in her ball gown, and she was both light of foot and skilled of tongue. For a time some of the other ladies were actually working her as an angle to get closer to me, until they realized our relationship was such that her opinion carried little weight with me—except, perhaps, as they related to balls, decorating, or fashion. The King was torn between weariness of being around all these people and the naturally intoxicating effect of being swarmed by admiring females all turning on the charm on his behalf. The attention merely wearied me, however; I would not marry until such time that there was political advantage to doing so, and the enticement of hinted sex held no sway, as I had brought my own supply with me. I sidled up to the King at one point and whispered some advice; "by all means take a concubine, but know that only a commoner would consider such an arrangement. One with royal blood, even of lower rank, will demand more." When an opportunity finally presented itself, I snuck out to retrieve Eve and Arianna. The ball had by then degenerated into an increasingly drunken, wild celebration; those who would have been scandalized by my companions had by then either left or would not notice the new additions amidst the revelry. The leftovers and finger foods alone allowed Eve and Arianna to feast like kings, and I danced with them as much as I could to avoid having to dance with overeager would-be duchesses. I reminded my concubines that they were not married to me, and they were free to try their own hands at landing a husband here, but their reaction was quite the opposite. Seeing the near-throng of royal maidens seeking to impress the King or myself as to their marriage-worthiness, they became quite protective of the slice of myself they possessed. I had simply wished to give them the chance to see what a coronation ball was like, but the unintended effect was that both became more appreciative of their special places in my heart. They knew they could never have me to themselves, but they also knew that they were not just easily replaced sex toys to me; I had deep affections for them and had promised to take care of them for as long as they wished it so. Seeing just how much demand there was for my affections, that little slice of my heart suddenly felt that much more valuable. The additional heat was unmistakable in my bedchamber that night. ------------------- The sun had just began peering over the horizon when I was stirred by a knocking at the door. My head ached from the evening's revelry, and I had hoped to sleep it off well into the morning—why was I being roused at first light? "Duke Bonir!" cried a voice as the door knocked loudly yet again, "the King is holding and emergency council and demands your presence at once!" My first thought was that this might be a prank, but the voice betrayed a concern that was all too real; I jumped out of bed to dress. My knight's training was not as yet entirely forgotten; I was dressed and in the grand hall in less than ten minutes. My arrival made six in the hall: King Edelbert; Vanyon, the new captain of the Elite Guard, whom I had known when I was part of the unit though not well; Duke Ethron of Easton, Lord of the largest and strongest duchy in the realm and my uncle; Count Charon of Eckoss, the northernmost province; a man I did not recognize but wearing the livery of a royal messenger, and myself. "Ah, Bonir, good that you are here," Edelbert said solemnly. "The others can join as they arrive and we'll fill them in; those that are most important are here. Please relay your message again." The page nodded and blurted excitedly. "Hail King Edelbert! I bring grave news from Eckoss. The town of Barwick was two days hence attacked and sacked by Vikings. The guard scrambled to the defense, finding the invaders had already fled, but not before killing scores of men, women and children and burning the village to the ground. A few villagers are missing and presumed dead or captured. Of all of the residents of the town there was but one survivor—a poor wench that was run through with a sword and left for dead, yet miraculously survived." This was grave news indeed. An attack by Vikings was not totally unexpected; for generations Norsemen would stage hit-and-run raids of all the maritime nations. Ferocity of the level described of the attack on Barwick was uncommon and unfortunate, but not unprecedented. No, the troubling thing was that Barwick was on the western coast. In general the north and east of the realm were closer to Scandinavia, and far more likely targets of an attack than Barwick. True, those towns were also at a much greater state of preparedness as a result, but to sail three extra days each way to reach a less-defended town seemed strange. Instead, it suggested that the Vikings had a new base of operations of which we knew not. If so, then for the first time the western coast might be at constant risk—and was grossly unprepared. "I do not doubt that you all recognize the danger in this news," King Edelbert addressed us. "Avenging the destruction of Barwick is one thing. The return of Viking invasions after fifteen years peace is troubling alone, but if the Vikings are now attacking the west, either they have changed their tactics or they have a new base of operations somewhere closer to our western shores. How are we to respond?" By now many of the other Dukes and Counts had arrived. Those whose lands were safely landlocked advocated a counterattack, until Vanyon reminded them that we didn't know where they had launched their attack from. Count Charon rightly reminded the court that his northern lands remained the most likely target, and indeed Barwick was still part of Eckoss. "But we must prepare the coastal towns of the west for possible attack," I added. "Agreed, Duke Bonir. Here is how we shall proceed," King Edelbert commanded. It seemed he had known all along how he would respond, but had wisely allowed the nobles to present a better idea if they had one. They did not, so he proceeded as planned. "Count Charon... return at once to your castle and review the adequacy of your army and the defenses of your towns. Vanyon... you shall accompany Count Charon and set up camp in Eckoss. This will place you closer to the likely site of the next attack, and perhaps we can intercept the invaders next time. Duke Bonir..." I snapped to attention. "I am putting you in charge of organizing the defense of the western provinces. As you all know, the Prince was trained in the royal guard under the tutelage of the great Sir Langdon himself. My dear cousin, I need you to organize the provinces of the west to work together in an organized defense of the realm. I cannot spare my own troops, but nor do I expect the guard of Averic to defend the entire western border. Rather, I am giving you authority to direct the defense of all of the western provinces. In this, I will require the cooperation of all of the Lords of these lands. Each shall entrust half of his guard to the defense of the coast, under the command of Prince Bonir. You shall retain full authority over all matters of your lands, including command of the guard so long as it does not interfere with the Prince's defense plans. If any lord undermines the Prince's defenses, he shall answer to me. If the local lord feels that the Prince has overstepped his bounds, then you shall tell that of me, and I shall handle it. Is that understood?" There was a grudging assent among the assembled nobles. It was unprecedented outside of wartime to usurp the absolute authority of a lord over his lands in this fashion, but at the same time, all would admit that I was the most experienced (despite my age) and best suited for the task at hand. Whether I could orchestrate the defense without being seen as interfering would go a long way to determining my success. Indeed, this was the first bold action of the new king, and the success of his own reign could be set in large part by how well I could execute his commands. For both of our sakes, it was vital that I find a way to succeed. Eve and Arianna were up and dressed when I returned, sitting somberly, having heard that grave news was afoot. There was a grand feast scheduled for mid-day to be followed by a tournament, but I would not be staying long enough to see either. I invited them to stay, but if I was leaving, they wished to depart as well, even though we were not going the same way. I ordered breakfast for four; it was almost entirely cold before Jauffrey had made his way to my chamber in response to my summons. I filled him in on our new role as defenders of the west, then laid out the plan. Two of the guards would escort Eve and Arianna back to Averic, then begin organizing the building of shore defenses at home. Jauffrey would go with two guards to Merseinne, and begin organizing defenses and communications with Averic there. And I would head with the final two guards to Eckoss to speak in person to the lone survivor of Barwick. Breakfast finished, I wanted to go with Jauffrey right out to our encampment and start out—but Eve and Arianna begged me to hold. It would be many days at the earliest before they saw me again—at worst, they'd never see me again. They knew there wasn't time to make love to me proper, but they gladly took turns caressing my penis lovingly while the other entertained my mouth with her breasts. In short order I was ejaculating down Arianna's receptive throat while gently pinching Eve's nipple between my teeth. The brief time out for pleasure was greatly appreciated, but there was no further time to dawdle. I soul kissed each of them as I left—the times had suddenly become much more dangerous, and the eventually of seeing someone again could no longer be taken for granted. ------------------ Two days later we were in the town outside the Count's castle, Schloss Eckoss, so named over a century ago by a Germanic countess who could not resist the multi-lingual alliteration. We needed to ask directions three times before we found the home of the nurse where Juriel, the lone survivor of Barwick, was fighting for her life. Somehow fittingly, the sky had poured buckets upon us all the day long. The elderly nurse did not want us to speak to her as she was so weak, but we told her we needed to learn all we could from her so as to prevent it from happening again. She let us in on the condition that we not touch the frail girl in any way. The blinds were drawn and the room dark when we entered; Juriel was resting, eyes closed but not asleep, shallow breath barely enough to keep her alive. Her entire torso was heavily bandaged in white cloth; and angry red stain right in the middle belied where she had been run through with a sword that somehow managed to miss her vital organs. It must have pained greatly even to draw breath. The nurse raised one blind halfway, but with the gray rainy sky it was still very dim. Juriel stirred slightly, drew in her already shallow breath in pain, and stopped trying to move. "Juriel," she said, "you have a visitor." "Hmmm?" she moaned. "Prince Bonir, Duke of Averic, is here to see you." "Prince...Bonir? Of Averic?" She tried to straighten up and blinked, but having not opened her eyes in days even the dim light was too intense. I sat on the edge of her bed, wanting to pat her hand or something but mindful of my promise to the nurse. "Please, do not stir, dear lady," I said, "you have been through so much..." "You...Prince Bonir..." she replied, eyes closed but now facing in my direction as she could feel my fully armored weight pulling down on the bed, "I want to thank you...my cousin...she was wrongly accused...you saved her..." Apparently she was related to one of the "witches" that lived in exile under my protection in Averic. "Shhh," I said. She was reaching painfully towards me with one hand; I removed a gauntlet and intercepted it in spite of my promise, just so she wouldn't hurt herself further trying to find me. The nurse made no objection. "Yes, we treat witches differently in Averic, but you do not need to thank me, we treat all accused of witchcraft the same. I need to know what you can tell me about what happened." "The town...my family...all my friends...gone..." her lips curled downwards and tears were imminent—and crying certainly would be excruciating with the gaping wound in her abdomen, and could start her in to bleeding anew. Prince Bonir Vol. 04 "I know, I'm sorry, but I've been charged by his majesty King Edelbert III to make sure it does not happen again, and for that I need your help." Invoking the name of the king put her mind in a different state, at least temporarily diverting the tears. I could see her lips start to form the "H" of "how," so I answered before she could ask "I need to know anything you can tell me about who the attackers were, and you alone have seen them firsthand. For instance, when did you first know you were under attack, and what were you doing at the time? "I was sitting in the house with my parents, two brothers and three sisters," she replied, "mending my youngest sister's frock. All at once we all heard this strange horn sound, not like any bugle I've ever heard. It went ta-daaaa ta-daaaa. My father got up and grabbed his pitchfork, and headed out to see what was going on. Most of the men in town did the same, grabbing whatever they had that they might used as a weapon if needed. We were all watching through cracks in the picket door. Two or three men that had once been guards had old swords; some had nothing more than sharpened sticks. Suddenly there was this din of men shouting, and a stream of warriors rushed up from the direction of the beach." "What did they look like?" I asked. "They looked huge. They wore long beards, armored chestpieces, and metal helmets, many of which had animal horns on the sides. They carried shields and large axes. They swarmed on the men of the village, who wore no armor or shields and whose weapons were no match. In minutes they had cut them all down." "How many of them were there?" "I saw maybe 20 or 25, but there were probably others I could not see," she answered. "What happened then?" "People from some houses tried to flee, but all of our houses have but one door, out the front. They ran out the front doors and tried to make for the woods behind. The men yelled out something like 'Stop,' and when they didn't, archers that we hadn't even seen up to that point cut them down from the edge of town. The others stopped and were quickly rounded up in the center of town." "Did their shields have any markings?" I asked. "Many of them had a red coat of arms with a gold lion bearing a war axe on them," she replied. Sounded like the Coat of Arms of the King of Norway, I thought. That was one bit of information we didn't have before. "What happened then?" I asked gently. "One man came up to the door of each house in the village. One by one, they yelled into the house, making a gesture like we should come out. If the inhabitants did not, they smashed down the door with a few blows of their massive axes. If anyone tried to resist or moved too slowly, they simply hacked them to pieces right then and there." "Where did they take you?" I asked. "They moved us all to the center of town. Once they had rounded up everyone, they started sorting us out. All of the men, boys and older women were marched into the town hall, while all of the younger women down to the age of about five were marched down the path towards the beach. I didn't see what happened then, but later we could see dark plumes of smoke. I guess they burned down the village with the people still inside..." Her eyes winced in emotional pain, as she remembered loved ones that were marched into those buildings and likely burned alive. It actually hurt too much for her to cry. "What happened down at the beach?" I asked. "There was a man waiting down there, he seemed to be their commander. One by one, two men would hold our arms while the man stuck his hand down the front of our dresses. If he felt growths there, we were marched over to the side. Each of us had one of them guarding us, holding us gruffly by the arm. Those that were too young were placed in irons and taken on board a dragon boat that was beached just offshore. Once we were thus separated, the commander took one last look at those of us pulled to the side, holding a torch close to our faces to get a good look at us. When he came to Thera, who was just to my right, he lingered. He grabbed her by the jaw and turned her head to look at her from the side. Then he pulled down the front of her dress, tearing it as he did, so that he might inspect her breasts. Apparently he liked what he saw, because made some nod of his head and turned for the boat. She was dragged forward, put in chains as the younger girls were, and taken to the boat. I guess he was looking for the prettiest girl, and he found her. She had been my brother's fiancée..." "What happened after she was taken to the boat?" I asked, trying to stave off the tears. "A number of oars came out of the side of the boat and it started out to sea. At the same time, a second boat glided in closer under sail." "Did the sail have any markings?" I asked. "One one of the boats, the main sail had the same coat of arms that I had seen on the shields," she answered. "What happened when the boat came in?" I asked. "I don't know when the boat came in, because as soon as the first boat turned away from us, the men that were holding us attacked us. I was thrown to the ground, and in an instant there was a man on top of me, ripping my dress open from top to bottom. One man was holding my hands down over my head with great force while the other forced my legs apart. An instant later I felt a sharp searing pain as he penetrated me. I screamed, and I heard the others scream too. I'll always remember his face—he had red hair and a long red beard with bits of food in it. His eyes seared into me with more hate than lust as he had his way with me. I felt him stiffen then grow soft, at which point he got up and held me down while the man who had previously been holding me took his turn with me. I looked around saw two or three other girls being raped in the same way. One had been tied to a tree at the edge of the beach; she had one man forcing himself between her thighs and another forcing himself into her face at the same time." "Now the men who had stayed behind in the village returned to the beach. A few men, like the one that first attacked me, headed out to the boat as they were replaced by men coming down from the village. After the second went limp, he again held my arms while one of the new arrivals threw himself upon me. He smelled overpoweringly of smoke. It wasn't enough to him to abuse me as the others had; he kept slapping me hard in the face as he raped me. Tears streamed down my face, which seemed to excite him, because it made him thrust harder. Suddenly the same horns we had heard when the attack began sounded again, only much closer now. It was a signal; at once the men stopped what they were doing. The man that had been raping me got up and pulled a sword, a sword that I recognized as being an Eckoss guard sword. He must have taken it from one of the bodies in the town as a souvenir. I heard another girl's death screech even before he ran me through with the sword. Then he turned and with the other men, as a mass, fled towards the remaining boats." No one said anything as our minds tried to come to terms with the unimaginable horror. "I turned to my right, and saw a bloody corpse almost split in two with an axe. It occurred to me that I was lucky—the man who had been raping me when the horn sounded had taken a sword for a trophy and decided to use it to kill me rather than the axe with which he was more familiar. Had he slashed me I, too, would have died on the spot, but instead he stabbed straight through me, by the grace of God the blade did not kill me. I lay still, playing dead, slowly losing consciousness. Next thing I remember I felt a hand slapping my wrist and heard a voice yelling 'This one is still alive!'" "Did you see which way the boats went?" I asked. "They were headed straight out to sea, to the west. I could not see them for very long, though, for I was weak from bleeding and could no longer lift my head..." "My dear lady, I am so sorry for what has happened to you, and to have had to ask you to live through it all again. It is my job to make sure that an attack like this never happens again. The information you have given us will help us much," I continued. "We know who the enemy is, how strong their forces are, and their tactics. The entire kingdom is in your debt." But she wasn't really listening; she was overcome with pain, physical yes but mostly emotional. The nurse approached, but I did not need to be told that Juriel needed to be left alone. Outside the door, I reached into my pocket and gave the nurse half of the gold I carried, instructing her "get the poor girl whatever she may want that money can buy, for all the things she really wants no amount of money can return to her." --------------------- It was ten days before I was back in Averic. I stopped in each of the three provinces between Eckoss and Merseinne and began organizing communications and construction of beach defenses. Then I followed in Jauffrey's footsteps through Merseinne and then Barcos; he had already begun mobilization, so my role there was political, ensuring no feathers were ruffled by our presence. Any concerns the Lords may have had disappeared when I recounted for them the story of the attack and Juriel's ordeal. Back home at last, a fanfare was announcing the return of the lord to the castle as I strode up to my throne. Eve and Arianna were standing as they usually did along the far wall. I stole a glance their direction as I made my way up the aisle, and saw as great relief at my return. Having been away in sum more than two weeks, there were a number of items that needed to be attended to at once. Anything else, though, I put off and returned to my private apartments. Eve and Arianna slipped out the side door; they then had to run around the outer corridor to the back door of my private chamber to see me. Inside, I walked at a leisurely pace, but directly towards the door, imagining how far they had to scurry and where they might be. I paused when I reached the door and had to wait no more than sixty seconds before the knock came. I opened the door, and my two little minxes jumped on me. Eve at least thought to kick the door closed, but Arianna hugged me and did not want to let go. Both of them showered me with kisses. I felt Eve's nimble fingers sliding towards my member first. She freed it and stroked it, soon joined by the slender fingers of Arianna. It was stiff as iron after two weeks of chastity. Arianna feel to her knees and welcomed me back with her tongue. Eve responded by hastily undoing the top of her dress to "feed" me the breasts I so enjoyed to taste. Arianna could sense that she could have easily climaxed my overcharged penis, but by now they were getting good at sharing me, so instead she stood up allow Eve a turn caressing me. As Eve sheathed my sword with her throat, Arianna loosed her own dress and then in one movement tossed the whole thing over her head and onto the floor. She was completely naked underneath, which made me do a double-take, as this was not her usual manner of dress. Her face reddened slightly, and she sheepishly admitted "I have anxiously awaited your return, my lord." I held her slender frame in my arms and kissed her while Eve's work on my organ threatened to buckle my knees. "Please, my lord, I've so missed you," Arianna complained, sitting down on my desk and parting her thighs in anticipation. Seeing the dark red hair of her crotch, I was temporarily reduced to my animal nature, and without thought brought myself over to her and plunged deeply in. She spread her slender thighs far apart under me and held on to my torso with both arms lest my lust-blinded thrusts literally throw her across the room. Eve came over and gently ran her fingers along my back, but did not clamor for a turn of her own. The more worldly and experienced of the two, she recognized that with the wanton lust that absence had caused, and at the pace I was going, I would likely be spent before she could even be prepared. But at that time I was scarcely aware of her presence, so fixated was I on the warm, wet, inviting orifice into which I reached. Eve proved prophetic; within minutes I was spasming in orgasm, filling Arianna with so much seed that excess spilled onto the floor when I withdrew. Arianna raised herself up on her arms, legs still wide, suddenly remembering Eve. "Oh, I'm sorry...you didn't get the chance to..." "It's all right," Eve said softly, "his lordship had needs following his absence; this was not a time for patience. There will be another time." I kissed her, appreciating her understanding. I ended up going to dinner, making love to Arianna again at a more leisurely pace, studied maps of the west coast for two hours, then retired to my bedchamber where Eve awaited me. She was lying on her side in my bed, head propped up on her arm, wearing a robe. When I entered, she said "Welcome home, Your Grace" while slowly, enticingly pulling on its belt. It came loose, and the lower half of the robe fell, exposing her left side. Her breast seemed to wink at me. "It's good to be home," I sighed wearily, stepping in. Eve stood up and helped me remove my clothing. Then she had me sit on the edge of the bed while she massaged my tired back. "Mmm, that feels good," I sighed. "Anything for my lord," she answered—then teased me by sliding her breasts along my back along with her hands. She then slid her hand forward expecting to find my staff at full attention, but in truth I was still worrying about the defense of the realm, and it was not. Eve knew something was on my mind. "Your Grace is worried," she commented, lying back down as she had been when I walked in. I lay down on my back next to her. "Indeed, I am very worried," I admitted. Between her perceptiveness and her frequent access to me in a vulnerable, post-coital state of mind, I had few secrets of which Eve knew not. "The armies of the provinces are so depleted, even if I had full use of them I'd be hard pressed to defend the entire coast, and I only have command of half. As quickly as the Vikings attack—unless the army happened to already be in the town, they would never reach it before the attackers fled." "Can you enlist the villagers to help?" she asked. "Indeed I must, but I have not yet determined how," I replied. "And then there's Averic. I will defend the realm at all costs and gladly go if the ultimate sacrifice must be made, but then what of Averic? My sister has shown that while she's a wonderful lady of the court, she's incapable of ruling. I do not blame her, she has no training in such things. And I have no heir. If I were to be killed now, Averic would fall into turmoil." I looked to her and gently touched her face. "And you...you, Arianna, the girls at the Abbey—who will protect them if I am gone? I fear that my death may the death sentence for the lot of you as well!" "What constitutes an heir? If you do not marry, can you have no heirs?" I'm generally a reasonably intelligent man; I don't know why Eve's thoughts are so often three steps ahead mine, and I do not see what is coming until I have already stepped into the trap. "No, if there are no legitimate heirs, any son of the Duke can inherit the throne..." It was not until I uttered the words that I heard exactly what they might mean to their recipient. "Wait, no, Eve..." "When you arrived home today, you made love to Arianna without use of the sheath," she said matter-of-factly. I was taken aback. "I...I was so consumed by lust, it completely slipped my mind." I stammered. "My Lord," she said softly, running her fingers along my chest, "I wish you to lie with me and forgo the sheath. I understand that any child I bear to you would be a bastard, and would have no claim to the throne when a legitimate heir is born..." "It's not that simple," I interrupted. "Illegitimate children are the seeds of revolution. Do you dislike the Duke and wish to unseat him? No problem if there's a bastard heir. Simply kill the rightful heir, and your man rises to the throne. That's what happened with King Armen, Duke Casten..." "Do you think that I wish to rule Averic?" Eve asked. I didn't, but she was so cunning I could not completely rule out the possibility. "You have no heir, and as you are not married, you won't be having one soon. You've said yourself that you need to save yourself for a marriage of political advantage. Well, what if that day never comes? What if you are slain before you have the chance to marry? We don't know when the Vikings will return; we don't know if you will be killed fighting them. And as you say, Princess Elizabeth is not fit to rule. I should know; I very nearly starved to death because she could not be bothered to make sure the prisoners in the dungeon were being fed." I remembered how and when I first found her in the dungeons when I took over as Duke; I had forgotten about her state of neglect under the temporary rule of my sister. "And yet here you are, procreating every day with Arianna and myself. Would it not be better to dispose of the sheath, and see if God wills it that we bear you an heir? I cannot speak for Arianna of course, but I would be honored to carry Your Grace's child." My head was swimming a little. I wasn't sure I was ready to even think of children—but the question of succession had suddenly become a very pressing one. "Yes, it would have been nice if I had a house and a husband before bearing children," she added, "but I know that Your Grace would provide for a me and my child better than any peasant could, just as you always have." "I...I don't know..." I replied. "Think not too much of it," Eve reassured, sliding her hand lower and lower until it was gently stroking my awakening stallion. "If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, then God does not will it so. All I'm saying is, let us stop using the sheath and see what comes of it. Besides, it's not like you haven't ever done so before..." she slowly bent over, bring her face closer and closer to my groin. My organ seemed to be stretching towards her as she approached. "And you've always said," she added, then slipped me into the warmth of her mouth for a moment before releasing me to finish the thought "you've always said you prefer the sensation when you're not wearing a sheath..." With that she slipped me into her mouth again, a little at first but gradually deeper, deeper, deeper. I closed my eyes and enjoyed her attentions. Beginning with that night, I no longer wore a sheath when making love to Eve. ----------------- It was six weeks before the Vikings inevitably returned, attacking the town of Meerside in Merseinne. Fortunately, the defense plan I had instituted worked. At the sound of the first horn, the village had abandoned their houses and fled inland towards one of several camps where I had guards stationed. Two designated runners, taking different routes lest one be captured, raced to a hidden cove where a small but maneuverable fishing boat had been pressed into spy service. Oars covered with cloth to muffle the sound, the small boat crept out to where it could just see the Viking ships on the horizon. While the townspeople hid in earthworks dug for the purpose, the guard moved to intercept the attackers. As they approached the blared their trumpets in their best attempt to mimic the Viking signal. The invaders must have been rather confused. Rather than a sleeping town, they found an all but abandoned one. The began stealing what they could until they heard the horns—we'll never know if they ran off because they wished to avoid direct engagement or if they mistook them for the return to the ships signal. Either way, they left before they finished ransacking the village, and rather than the organized conflagration there were but a few small fires started by thrown torches that were easily put out. There were only three casualties in Meerside—two that were too feeble to outrun the attackers, and one notoriously sound sleeper. And two Vikings had been slain by booby traps that the townsfolk had spontaneously placed in the attacker's path. The town of Meerside had been saved. Prince Bonir Vol. 04 I headed for the town as soon as the news arrived—with any luck, our spy ship would have followed Vikings back to their base and would be returning with the information. Three days after my arrival came the news we sought: the spy ship discovered that the Vikings had built a fort on the island of Jarno north by northwest of Merseinne. It was technically a possession of Denmark, but being covered in snow and ice eight months of the year it was seen as being of little value. A small fishing village had struggled to survive on its southernmost tip since time immemorial. The Norse, it seemed, had capture the village and built a wooden fortress around it; this was now apparently their base of operations. I traveled to confer with King Edelbert. I proposed that we launch a counterattack to dislodge the Vikings, then inform the Danes that their property had been usurped, putting the burden on them to defend their lands. Bonny agreed with my strategy, but couldn't afford to send our sparse troops on the offensive and leave the coast vulnerable to further attacks. Finally I persuaded him to send six warships and one regiment of royal guard, plus another to help guard Averic while I led my own men in the attack. It took a week for all the parts of the invasion force to assemble, after which I led two weeks of intensive training in Averic. I would have liked more time, then the Vikings struck again. Their third attack was further north, and the local guard was not as organized as they had been in Merseinne. Most of the citizens did evacuate, but the guard took almost three hours before it launched the counteroffensive, by which time the invaders were long gone—and the town of Pike Bay was reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes. It was time to launch the counteroffensive. ------------------ I estimated that we were approximately a day-and-a-half sailing time behind the Vikings, presuming they were returning to their base. When our charts placed us within three leagues of Jarno, five ships held position and waited for nightfall, while the sixth scouted for a point where we could land undetected—with their naval skills, we stood a much better chance of defeating them on the ground than in open water. When it was completely dark, we crept in closer. We counted on being able to make out the outline of the dragon boats against the backdrop of fires in the town, while they would not be able to see us in the dark. Fate smiled upon us, as clouds obscured the moon but steadfastly refused to rain upon us. Indeed, I personally made out at least three dragon boats, and undoubtedly there were others. I felt reasonably confident that this meant the invaders had returned straight home—if not, the fortress was much better defended than we thought, and our mission might be our last. I thought of Eve briefly, but then pushed Averic out of my mind and concentrated on the task at hand. Two ships held their position; the other four landed north of the fortress and unloaded the ground assault force. We took up our positions and waited. At first light, the two ships in the harbor began the attack. Its archers let loose with volleys of flaming arrows, targeting the ships at anchor, especially their vulnerable masts. As anticipated, a cry of alarm rose up in the fort. The fort had two gates, one facing the water, one directly opposite.; the gates on the water side flung open and Vikings raced to man their ships. Seamen at heart, they did not think that there might be a land force waiting for them to do precisely that. In the confusion, two of our soldiers, wearing the armor captured from the Vikings killed at Meerside, slipped into the fortress. The first Vikings had already reached their dragon boats and were preparing to chase down our vessels. We could now see that there were actually five dragon boats in the harbor, along with a score of smaller craft. Our archers had succeeded in setting two ablaze badly enough that they could not be sailed, but now they turned and headed out to sea, needing all the head start they could get to stay away from the superior Viking boats. In the meantime, I remained hidden with my Averic guards and a second company of the King's archers, lying in wait. The first dragon boat had raised the anchor and was giving chase; the other two were filling quickly, and scores of men rushed out of the fortress, across the shallow water and towards their boats. Scanning the scene, I saw a Viking holding a sword over his head with both hands—the signal that our spies had done their job. "Now!" I commanded. At once our entire unit sprang forth from our cover. The archers concentrated on picking off men who were in the water, as the water slowed their movements and made them easy targets. I led the ground troops in a charge towards the fortress. As intended, confusion set in. Some Vikings continued to rush towards the boats; some headed up the beach to engage us; others turned back towards the fortress to assume a defensive position. Without a cohesive, organized effort, none of their actions had much effect. My men's objective was to gain the fortress; they were instructed to sprint for the gate, avoiding engagement as much as possible until we were inside the walls. A booming voice was heard yelling over the din; one of their leaders recognized our objective and sought to organize the defense. With clear orders now, the Vikings on the beach rushed to retreat into the fortress. Some of the Vikings in the ships, however, returned to the water in response to the order, where the archers continued to decimate them. The Vikings only ever managed to launch one ship. When we were within a few hundred yards, the order was given to close the gate. The gates started to swing closed, but then stopped—our spies had wedged materials into the hinges, making it impossible to close them. Vikings streamed back into the fort, with us in hot pursuit. Suddenly realizing the problem, the men at the gates attempted to reopen them in order to remove the blockages. Their progress was hindered by masses of Vikings, expecting the gates to be closing, pressing in behind them and not giving them room to open. They were still trying to tell their own men to back away from the gate when we reached the gate and poured through. This now was the hardest part of the battle—we had fought our way into the fortress, and now we faced angry Vikings wanting to drive us back. The problem with most forts, however, is that their defenses are all designed to combat an enemy outside the wall; they were useless for an enemy on the inside. Second, the Vikings were used to attacking; they were much less used to defending, and their usual tactics were not very effective. Third, what we did once inside the fort caught them by surprise, as most military men would have thought it suicide—we advanced as rapidly as possible to the far side of the fortress, essentially allowing ourselves to be surrounded. Really, we had little choice; while the Vikings coming up from the water behind us were taking heavy casualties, they nevertheless would have surrounded us anyway. Our objective was to open the other gate. As I had hoped, because virtually all of the Vikings had gone out the water-side gate, the only thing standing between us and the land-side gate were women and children—and they wisely got out of our way. In short order we swarmed the battlements and took control of the land-side gate mechanism. We opened the gate—and the rest of the King's troops, who had been hiding outside, now rose up, rapidly closing the distance to the fort and swarming through the opening. With some Vikings still in boats and others dead or incapacitated on the beach, our combined forces now outnumbered them. And as our forces streamed through the land gate, all semblance of order among the defenders crumbled. Some Vikings fought but were easily subdued by our superior numbers. Some turned and fled, seeking to escape or perhaps protect their own families. Many made a dash for boats—only to find themselves in a cross-fire of arrows. The rout was on. "Remember Barwick!" yelled soldiers, mostly of the King's army. "Vengeance for Barwick." Unfortunately, even the best-trained soldiers can go partly mad when a hated enemy is crumbling at his feet. Soldiers started to ransack the town, raping, killing, searching for loot. I was able to retain order among my own Averic guard, but until the madness subsided I was fighting a losing battle trying to reign in the King's men. As a result, they did all the work of clearing out the town—running into the last pockets of resistance along the way. Viking casualties outnumbered ours eight to one; most of ours came from the ranks of the King's men as they rambled through the city more like an angry mob than an army. I walked through the town, already starting to restore order. If I saw men raping one of the women, I simply said "We're going to be here for a while. It's going to be rather hard to look her in the face after this, will it not?" Most were either too excited to hear or my words simply befuddled them; only a few regained their faculties at my prodding and ceased their actions. Behind me, I heard a female voice saying "Let me go, let me go I tell you." I turned and saw two soldiers dragging a beautiful woman out of a house. I was confused by her flawless speech, since the others all spoke languages we could not understand. She also had dark hair, which told me she wasn't a Scandinavian. Suddenly it clicked. "Is your name Thera, perchance?" I asked. ----------------- It was late in the day before order had been fully restored. Our two ships had by then returned and their men were helping hold the fort. Their pursuers, seeing Norway's standard fall over the fort, had apparently fled towards the motherland—which is actually what I had wanted. I had men taking stock of available supplies and setting up a system for distribution—it would be a month before the Vikings returned, I reckoned, so I had to make sure the fortress could survive as an occupied territory for at least twice that long. Thera, once she was past her initial shock that I would know her name, had proven valuable as an interpreter—she wasn't completely fluent, but she had learned much in the months she had been a captive slave here, and further she knew who most of the survivors were and what their role in the community had been. I relayed Juriel's tale; although mentally she knew that there was little chance anyone she had known had survived the attack, one continues to hope against hope until such hopes are dashed, and I had unenviable task of dashing them. I offered her the chance to return to the mainland with the boat I was sending back with the injured (of both sides), the young girls taken from Barwick and some of the other Viking slaves, but she refused. "I have nothing to go back to," she explained solemnly, "here at least maybe I can be useful." The soldiers were preparing our first communal dinner as occupiers and occupied. I had assigned any soldiers I knew had taken part in any raping and pillaging to serving the townspeople dinner; having to look into the ravaged faces of women they had violated, most now deeply regretted their actions. Others were still sweeping through the last few houses in the town. Suddenly, a soldier ran up to me. "My Lord," he panted breathlessly, "there is a situation at the edge of town that requires your personal attention—at once." I hastily followed him to one of the corners of the fortress. The first thing I saw as I approached were three soldiers with bleeding cuts heading towards the infirmary. Then I saw a ring of soldiers cornering something or someone by the fortress wall. Finally I heard a shrill voice, shouting things I did not understand, followed by a heavily accented "Stay back! Or I'll slice you all!" The officer in charge met me beyond the circle. "I'm sorry to bother you, My Lord," he said, "but we encountered some...unexpected...resistance. In light of your previous orders, sir, I wanted you to decide how you wanted the situation handled." "Stay away! You won't take me!" came the same high-pitched, accented voice. I walked into the perimeter formed by my soldiers and came face-to-face with its source. A woman stood against the wall, holding a massive two-handed sword in classic defensive position. I thought of the injured men I had seen retreating and saw the dull sheen of a well-cared blade, and had no doubt that she knew how to use it. "I say," I asked her calmly, "do you mean to attack us?" "Attack you?" she responded indignantly, "it is you that have attacked us." "Perhaps, but that is now history," I replied, "so I ask again, do you wield your weapon in self-defense, or do you mean to attack us?" "You shall see how well I can defend myself against a lot of dogs like you!" she snarled. "Ah, well then," I replied, bending my knees deeply and resting upon my own legs as foot soldiers were trained to do. "If you do not mean to attack us, then we can return to our duties." I shooed the troops away, to continue doing what they were doing before—for one thing, it was not impossible that this was merely a diversion, but mostly I was forming an idea of how to best handle the situation. The King's soldiers thought I was crazy, but I gave a knowing wink to some of my own Averic guards. They knew by now that I always had a plan, so they sheathed their swords and went back to what they had been doing. The King's men shrugged and followed their lead. I crouched perpendicular to where she stood, avoiding direct eye contact for now but watching closely in my peripheral vision. I pretended to be absent-mindedly playing with the dirt. Sending the circle of guards away was the last thing she had expected, and as a result she was unsure what her next step should be. "I see...you wish to keep me for yourself, do you? Well go ahead, just try and come get me." "Get you?" I asked, turning now to look at her, feigning thickness "but I already know where you are." It was the first time I had gotten a good look at her. She had long yellow hair braided in a single thick rope down her back. She wore a steel breastplate, but it was unlike any breastplate I had ever seen—it had been carefully hammered to provide a three-dimensional relief, presumably, of the torso underneath. The breastplate did not extend upwards beyond the breasts, and the tops of two mounds peered over the top, heaving up and down. Two leather-lined metal straps over the shoulders helped keep it all in place. She wore soft deerskin pants that were tailored such that they fit her like a second skin, and fur-lined boots against the cold of the ground. "Very funny," she sneered, "you think I will let down my guard and then you will try to jump me. Don't think I don't know what you men do—you invade a village, and once you've killed the men, you take every woman in the town as your personal playthings. Then when you have finished with them, you run them through and leave them to die. Well, you won't be taking me that easy!" I looked the other way and, fortunately, there was another of the village women visible. Standing to face her, I answered, "That may be what your people did at Barwick," I snarled gesturing in the direction of the woman behind me, "but that is not what we do." I paused for a second, then stood up, giving her a polite half-bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Bonir, Duke of Averic. And in case you haven't heard, we do things differently in Averic." She watched for a moment the woman go about the business of fetching a pail of water, unmolested by soldiers, and finally stood down from her defensive posture. "These are not my people," she muttered. "No?" I asked, "and yet you live here? If these are not your people, then who are you?" The woman sighed and returned her own weapon to the large sheath on her back, but came no closer. "Yes, I lived here, because my despicable husband dragged me here. I suppose I should thank you for that...releasing me from my bondage to Hagnar." "Not a marriage of love, I presume?" I asked. "No," she spat sourly, "look at me." She held her arms out at her sides, showing off her armor as well as muscles well-conditioned from handling a blade. "I was born to be a warrior, trained to be a warrior. My name is Sigrid, and I am a Swede, not a Norwegian. But my father was a chieftain, and for some reason he wanted peace with the Norwegians rather than beating them into submission. Needing to cement the deal, he arranged for his only daughter to marry the son of one of their clan leaders. That's how I ended up in this hell." I said nothing, expecting more to follow. "You may say you do things differently in Averic, Prince Bonir, but this is not Averic, and you are still a man—and men are not to be trusted," she seethed. "I was a warrior, but my husband made me act like these common women. He never let me oil my blade, train, anything. He demanded his dinner when he came home, then he would throw me on the bed and take what he thought rightfully his before heading off again to drink with his crewmates. The only difference between me and girls in the villages they sacked is that he didn't run me through afterwards—but that was only so that he could do it again the next day." I remained silent in the face of her anger. "I could have killed him a thousand times, but that would have started a war with my people, and my father had worked so hard to make peace. For four years I have swallowed my pride and been the good wife, all the while bringing my sword and armor out of hiding every time he left on a voyage. Now I won't need to hide anymore." "You speak my language well," I noted. "Yes, I speak five languages, and you know what...I can write! Are you surprised? A woman that can write!" she burst out sarcastically. "A warrior needs to be trained in mind and body. I went to school from the time I was three until my marriage was arranged..." She paused, then started walking. "So thank you for killing Hagnar for me, since I could not. At long last, I am free." She walked in front of me slowly, as if expecting that I would stop her. Several steps past me, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "You're not going to try to stop me?" "No," I replied wearily, "although I wonder where it is that you plan to go." "I'm headed out to the wilderness to fend for myself—like a warrior should." She turned back forward and headed toward the gate. I called a nearby boy over and asked that he sneak behind her and see if she did actually leave the fort. Fifteen minutes later he returned, announcing she had. I gave the boy a coin and headed back to the town hall. I wondered briefly what would become of her, but soon other problems that required my attention washed her from my mind. ------------------- Three days passed. Early the next morning two girls came running in from the land-side gate yelling and screaming for help. By the time they were calmed enough to be coherent and their words interpreted, we learned their brother had been attacked by a bear. Quickly if belatedly, I grabbed a contingent of guards and followed out into the wild. The boy lay in tall grass a mere 500 yards from the gate. He had deep slash wounds across his chest that bled profusely. I thought at first he might be dead, but when he stirred as we reached him, I realized he was wisely playing dead lest the bear return. A large cloth was laid out and the boy was laid in it. Four soldiers then picked up the corners of the cloth and began carrying him back to the fort for medical attention. That's when we heard it—a shrill scream, followed by a bellowing roar. The bear must still be nearby, and further someone else was in danger. "You, take the girls and get this boy back to the fort, then close the gates as a precaution. The rest of you," I ordered, drawing my soldiers, "look for the source of that scream, and yell when you find it!" I pointed them each in a general direction, then took the middle route myself, as we fanned out in search of the deadly bear. Prince Bonir Vol. 04 As I came over the top of a rise, I saw them. There was a thicket of hardy evergreens that somehow survived the icy conditions, and right where they butted up against a grassy plain, was Sigrid, sword drawn in defensive posture as a huge white bear reared up on it's hind legs. It was at least nine feet tall and about to pounce. Sigrid was in trouble, for the vivid red stripes on her arm indicated that she had been slashed once already—she was not gravely wounded, but wielding that huge sword would now be extremely painful, undermining her ability to defend herself. And just standing there, relying on her sword to defend her, was playing right into the bear's hands. I had to act at once, or I would surely witness her demise. I broke into a full sprint down the hill, yelling as loudly as I possibly could. I had not time to wait for my reinforcements to arrive. The bear, which had been about to spring upon and crush Sigrid, instead quickly came down on all fours and retreated several steps before turning around to reassess the situation. This allowed me to come between the bear and Sigrid. Our gazes locked, and the bear began to advance. With his size advantage, I scared him no more than had Sigrid. He would soon learn, however, that I had better tactics. The bear began, as I presumed he had with Sigrid, with a rushing attack that ended with a lunging swipe. He came up with nothing but air, however, for as he lunged I had rolled over, onto my back then back to my feet, sidestepping the assault. I swiped at the bear, but alas my sword's reach fell short of the mark on its first attempt. The bear squared on me again, and reared up on it's hind legs, as I had observed when first cresting the hill. But I knew enough to not present a stationary target to an enemy that relies on a power attack. While a bear can easily outrun a human, it is not like a cat that is used to pouncing on its prey at full speed. Its modus operandi was to slow an opponent with a swipe of its claws, then crush or maul it from a standing start. I needed to not allow him to do either. As soon as he reared up, I rolled again, diagonally to the bear so that when I regained my feet I was facing the bear's side. The bear knew it didn't want an enemy to have a clean shot at it's sides, so it came down again, turned, are reared again. I rolled back form whence I had started. The bear was intelligent; it already realized that this prey wasn't going to stand there as Sigrid had and allow him to pounced on it. So the second time he came down, he didn't just turn and rise up again, he put one foot down and tried to pounce in my direction, aiming to slow me down with a well-placed swipe. His large body was not designed for sideways attacking, however, and so the attack was easily avoided. This time, as I rolled I let my sword trail behind me, and as a result scored a slashing cut on the bear's snout. The side of the bear's white nose quickly mottled with red—much like Sigrid, it wasn't a mortal wound, but it produced much blood and was likely quite painful. This of course enraged the bear. Rage can be very beneficial in the battlefield—but only if it does not cause the warrior to disregard defense or forget his (or her) tactics, in which case rage can be the seal on the warrior's own doom. The bear attacked savagely now, mindless of his own vulnerabilities. He lunged again, and I rolled out of the way, but learning quickly he was attacking my new position before I had a chance to completely recover my balance. Had I not been wearing my breastplate, I might have been mortally wounded when his claws slashed at my midsection. Fortunately for me and unfortunately for the bear, his attack met with nothing but cold steel, leaving large dents in the metal but not cutting my skin. And because he was now so close, I was able to guide my blade up and under his chin, such that now my slash did not merely cut his nose—it cut deeply into his very neck. As I regained my feet, I saw the bear freeze for a moment, stunned. When he turned to face me again, his forelegs were already stained bright crimson from the severed artery. He lunged at me again, but the ferocity was draining as quickly as his life's blood. I now merely needed to continue protecting myself until it bled to death. It attempted one more feeble attack, but then was too lightheaded to even get a firm grasp on my position—its side lay right before me. Feeling sorry for it, I plunged my blade into the bear's side, puncturing its heart and mercifully hastening the inevitable. It fell to its side and was dead. I looked around to see what had become of Sigrid. I don't know what I had expected, but her standing unmoved, still maintaining that pointless defensive position was not it. Was she in shock? "Sigrid?" I said, walking slowly towards her, not sure whether she might not be in shock and attack me. There was a crimson stain on the grass at her feet; she bled worse than I thought. As I cautiously neared her I first saw streams of tears on her cheeks, then heard her break into sobs. With the onset of the sobbing, she at last lowered her sword, but rather than sheath it she threw it angrily to the side. Then she collapsed into a ball to the floor, bending one leg underneath her and one bending the other in front of her. She then pressed her face against her knee, hugging the knee with her good arm to hold it close—her slashed arm simply dangled at the side, too painful to move. I sheathed my sword and ran up to her. "Sigrid, you..." "I AM A FAILURE!" she shouted before I could finish, followed by some words I did not understand but presumed to be words Swedish parents prefer their children not learn. I searched for words as I stood over her, but hers came first. "Some warrior I am! I should be hunting bear—yet I can't even defend myself against a bear! I need to have a man race in here and save me. Even his majesty the pampered prince can defeat the bear, and the great warrior Sigrid cannot," she railed bitterly. "I deserve to bleed to death!" She bled, but her deepest wounds were the hardest to heal—scars on her very soul. I bend my knees to crouch down beside her. "Sigrid, you may think me the pampered prince," I said softly, "but I wasn't supposed to be the Duke; my brother was the heir until plague took him. Thus I was trained as knight from childhood, and served with honor in the King's Elite Guard." She peered up briefly to study my face and see if she could tell whether I was lying. She quickly hid it again, but the sobs had softened. "Do not sell yourself short, warrior Sigrid," I said gently, "that bear was easily nine feet tall. The problem is that you have only learned strength-based tactics, and those tactics do not fare well against an enemy six times your size. You need to learn speed and agility tactics as well, so that you can take advantage of your enemy's weakness regardless of what it may be." "My people would have considered your tactics cowardly," she murmured. "In battle there are no cowards," I countered, "there are only winners and losers, the living and the dead. When your enemy's advantage is strength, he is best defeated by speed and quickness. In fact, I daresay you should focus on agility tactics—turn your size into an advantage, rather than a disadvantage! I would be happy to give you some training, but first we must tend to this wound!" She turned stiffly to look at the gaping, bleeding slices in her arm. "It stings," she admitted through tear-stained eyes. "Come, let me bandage that," I said. Since I wasn't wearing full armor, I could reach the sleeve of my under-armor shirt, which I tore off and began to band tightly around her arm. "Ow, ow, ow..." she complained—in getting under her arm the cuts rubbed against the metal straps of her breastplate, causing great pain. "Wait," she said, and stood up. She slipped the her sword's sheath off her back, then held one arm straight over her head, and gingerly lifted the injured one too. "Pull it off," she said. I loosened the leather straps that held her breastplate close to her body, then picked it up from the bottom and gently lifted it up and over her head. She had to turn her head sideways to get it to squeeze through the metal. Underneath her breastplate she wore a strip of cloth wrapped around her breasts several times. The tight binding helped explain how they could remain so firm while peering over the top of the armor plate, but even with the binding it was clear that her breasts were impressively large. The cloth, however, only covered the breasts themselves, and the rest of her torso was exposed, and muscled like a warrior. I had seen persons whose muscles of the stomach were so well-defined that they could be seen individually when bending, but this was the first time I had seen someone whose muscles were thus visible when standing straight up. I forced myself to look away from her body and into her eyes. I realized she was quite beautiful, only she had always been so angry when I had seen her before I had overlooked it. With her armor was off, she dropped her arm out sideways, and then I was able to bandage her cuts. Already the fabric was staining red. "Come back to the fort," I encouraged, "we need to get you more attention with those wounds." She nodded glumly. Just then I heard voices calling my name in the distance. "Over here!" I returned. I picked up Sigrid's discarded sword, placed it in its discarded sheath, and picked up her armor as well. Three soldiers were rushing towards me. "My Lord," the first one said as they trotted towards us, "we found and slayed the bear. It was a female polar bear, almost eight feet long!" "That explains why you did not come when I cried out," I replied dryly, gesturing towards the clearing with a nod of the head. "I took care of her mate." The soldiers followed my gesture and all gasped. "My lord...you slayed..." "A nine-foot male by himself, whereas it took three of you to kill the female." Sigrid interrupted. "Perhaps that is why he is the Prince, and you are not." "Four actually," I corrected, bemused by her sudden defense of me. "Please see to it that both carcasses are brought into the fort and butchered. I need to take the lady back to the fort, she sustained a little scratch holding the big bear off by herself while the four of you were dancing with the little one." I saw a hint of a smile in the face she shot me after I said those words, with their implication that her feat too was more heroic than that which had made the soldiers so proud. I slung her sword over my back, carried her armor by the straps with the forearm of my sleeved side, and headed back to the fort, leaving behind three dumbfounded guards. ---------------- Sigrid was bandaged up and remained in the fort, but it was not easy. She barely more a part of the social circle of the Norwegians than we were. She was known, of course, but her husband had been a captain, and from that fact she had enjoyed a special status which she no longer held—indeed, some seemed to revel in what they perceived to be her fall from grace. And surely tact and statesmanship were not her strengths, so she often made bad situations worse. Not only that, but since her house had been abandoned, it had been converted to a barracks; although she reclaimed her own bed, she now shared a house with eight soldiers. Having to help out as best she could with her left arm heavily bandaged just made it all worse. Apparently she was not totally isolated, however, for Thera reported that stories of my rescue of Sigrid were being circulated among the Scandinavians, and some children were starting to refer to me as "Bonir the bear-slayer." I tried to check in on Sigrid when I could those next few weeks, but often I was too busy. Every time I did, I asked if the arm was ready for her to begin training—I wanted to be sure to live up to my promise, and for her to know that I fully intended to do so. Finally came the day when she no longer wore bandaging over her injured arm. But there were still deep scabs which would never heal entirely. She would always wear a reminder of that skirmish. "Aha!" I said when I first saw her unbandaged, "the wrapping is off! Are you ready to begin your training?" "The bandage is off, Lord Prince," she replied, "but I cannot yet manage my sword." "That's because you're using a two-hander," I replied, "which its sheer weight alone will slow you down. A one-handed sword is better for speed attacks. Surely you've used a one-handed sword before?" "Yes, but not since I was first training," she replied, "I've had this one for a long time." "Come," I said, "let us see if there is anything worthwhile in the armory." I walked with her to the shack where we kept the weapons that had been salvaged from corpses or in some cases abandoned on the beach when we invaded. There were mostly axes of course, but I thought I remembered seeing at least one sword, and indeed we soon located it and took it out into the light to inspect it. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the Coat of Arms of Eckoss embroidered into the scabbard; I would have to remember to send word to Juriel that she had been avenged. Sigrid unsheathed the blade and inspected it. "Dull, but that's fine for training," she commented, running her fingers along the unsharpened part of the blade. "It's tarnished, but no cracks. Let me work on it, and we can begin training tomorrow?" I agreed to meet her after dinner the next day at the town hall. The town hall was a log building not much different from the other buildings in the fort, only it was larger. It was basically a single, big square room inside, intended to serve any purpose for which a house was too small, from weddings and banquets to meetings and religious rituals. It also served as my command post during the day, but after dinner time it was usually empty these days, and so gave us a large space in which to work—I just had ask that they not blow out the lights. Sigrid was punctual, as I would have expected. I was wearing my training clothes, which were a simple loose shirt and pants made of Hessian cloth—cheap and easily repaired or replaced, yet tough enough to resist glancing scrapes from sharp blades. Sigrid's training clothes were unlike any I had ever seen—but in truth, she was the first true female warrior I'd ever seen, either. She wore the same tight-fitting leather pants, but light doeskin shoes rather than fur-lined boots. And instead of the metal breastplate she had a leather top of similar cut—it had a thick front and back, with a more pliable middle that was cinched tightly around the body by means of straps at the sides. It ended right above her bustline, but was held up with leather straps over the shoulders. It was also cut a good four inches shorter than her breastplate, such her navel and the taut muscles of her stomach were visibly exposed above the top of her trousers. I had to work to prevent my gaze from lingering there, or surely I would get hurt in the training. The first session was spent mostly trying to unlearn things she already knew. She had been taught to stand one's ground and fight, and certainly there were times and places for that. I had show her how to be on the defensive while remaining light on her feet. We sparred a little; I kept pushing closer for her to start getting the feel of fighting while on the move. It was almost two hours before I decide we needed to stop; by then sweat glistened on the smooth skin of her belly. She asked to meet again in two days time. I went back to the house I was staying in, rubbing oil on muscles sore from training for the first time in a long time. I mentally counted the days since we took over the fort, and only then did I realize that it had been my birthday. I thought back to how I had spent my last birthday in an orgy of carnal debauchery, whilst now I sat in a cold, barren fort awaiting a fleet of invaders. I thought of Eve and Arianna back home and how I missed them. It had been a month since last I lay with them, and I wondered if Eve had had her monthly flow. I sighed, promising to revel even more in the moment should I ever get the chance to make love to them again, for one never knew when an opportunity may be one's last. I tossed about fitfully, only sleeping after self-flagellating to memories of the orgy at the Abbey. By the second session two days later, Sigrid had improved greatly on her postures. I could easily imagine her having spent hours practicing since her first lesson. I began work with her on dodges. She easily mastered the physical aspect, but the hard part is recognition of when and where to dodge. I used a blunt stick, and came at her from unpredictable angles; I inadvertently poked her a number of times, but by the end of the night she was responding correctly more than half of the time. In the third session she had progressed enough that I began to work with her on rolling out of danger's way. I was careful to only roll have her roll to the right, as her left arm remained gravely injured. As I had predicted, she was quick and agile on her feet. I explained that she should think of the sword as an axis around which to roll, once that became second nature, she could start to think about trying to slash an opponent even as she rolled out of harm's way. Both using sticks, we sparred again, with her concentrating on avoiding me. "You are doing very well," I said, "but every style of fighting has a counter to it, and this is no exception." This time, as she rolled, I concentrated on the stick and not the person. I snagged the stick with mine; unprepared, the force of her own roll pulled the weapon from her hands. When she regained her feet, my stick was pointed at her exposed belly, while she stood defenseless. Instinctively, she raised her hands. Her eyes were fixed on the stick, imagining it to be a blade, desperately replaying what had just happened to find her mistake, lest next time the error cost her her life. "Once you get the hang of rolling with your sword as an axis," I said softly, slowly letting the stick fall towards the floor, "you must learn to never actually roll without doing something with the sword, or a knowledgeable opponent may be able to disarm you." As I drew the stick down, her eyes followed it up until finally, really for the first time, she was looking me squarely in the eye. "But, most soldiers and guards never get far enough in their training to learn that..." Something in her eyes told me that already knew that. I swear upon the gospels that what happened next had never been my intent nor had even crossed my mind. She had looked upon me as an invader, a usurper, a spoiled prince, an enemy commander, a savior, a gallant knight, and even as a teacher. At that moment, she looked at as a man—and she was a woman. Without warning she threw her arms around me and pressed her lips urgently against mine. I felt her tongue seeking mine, so I let them intertwine. She kissed me hungrily, a serpent that had been coiled waiting to strike. She had been married, and yet had never known passion. I think her hunger surprised herself. I too responded as if I were starving. Just days before I had pined for lovers far away; now, out of nowhere, an opportunity dropped into my lap, and I pounced upon it. Dropping the stick, I wrapped my arms around her, and they naturally fell to her bare midriff. Those muscles I had admired felt lithe and lean in my hands. She pulled herself away for a second. She fumbled for and released the straps on her leather pseudo-armor, then with great urgency pulled it over her head and threw it aside. Then she grasped me again, eagerly pressing her tongue into my mouth again. I ran my fingers up and down her back, noticing how well-defined all of her muscles were. I pulled her even closer to me so that I might feel her breasts pressing into me, but I did not. Suddenly it dawned on me that it was because of the Hessian cloth shirt—and that the rough cloth probably did not feel particularly good on a woman's delicate nipples. So I now pulled back, hastily throwing my shirt aside, then rejoined with her. Now my chest was treated to the feel of her firm breasts pressing into it. Prince Bonir Vol. 04 We held each other and entwined tongues urgently, as if we might crawl into each other's skin. Her warmth felt wonderful in my arms, but in the back of mind, the softness of her chest was eliciting a strong response. With a will of their own, my hand found its way to Sigrid's breast. They were indeed of appreciable size, but looked and felt larger than they actually were because the base from with they arose was so firmly muscled that they stood straight out. My fingers touched her, but were drawn inexorably towards the nipple like a moth is drawn to the flame. I found them, and they were a microcosm of Sigrid herself; seemingly hard as steel, but when felt up close, actually quite soft and pliable. Sigrid drew back and thrust her chest out, allowing me to enjoy her breasts. She held my head gently while I bent over and held her other nipple on my tongue. She closed her eyes as I stimulated her breasts, one with a hand and one with my mouth, and her breathing became more palpable. Her free hand she ran over my torso much as I had done hers, but when it found the tops of my pants, it lingered, feeling its way around and, soon realizing only a loose string held them up, in. Her hand found my penis, and began stroking it. Feeling her hand upon me, I let her nipple out of my mouth and again intertwined with her tongue, keeping my hand engaged with the other breast. She stroked me and kissed me, then again backed away. She kicked off the boots and, with a little effort, wiggled out of the tight pants. Then she lay on her back on the dirt of the floor, expecting me to enter her. I wanted to, but not yet. I removed the last of my own clothing, but then I knelt near her face, bending down to kiss me. "Don't you want me?" she pouted. "Yes," I replied, but please kiss me first?" I said, straightening up so my penis was right before her mouth. I realized she had no idea what I wanted, but being intelligent guessed correctly why I had placed my member so close to her face. I remembered that Arianna had never heard of such a thing before seeing Eve do it, and it was sometimes called "French style," perhaps the news hadn't yet made it to Scandinavia. At first she took me at my word and did just kiss it. I made a point to moan at everything that felt good, and like following a trail of breadcrumbs she quickly learned that taking it into her mouth and gently caressing it made it feel very, very good. The way I was contorted to allow me penis to reach her mouth, however, was not ideally conducive to arousal. I was also thinking that there was another area I wished to explore, and got an idea. I rolled over onto my back, and motioned her to follow. Then I guided her so that she was straddling my face. Mmmm...I could smell her, and with my tongue I set about tasting her as well. Now it was her turn to moan. With a gentle hand I guided her down so that we were orally stimulating each other's genitals simultaneously. Using my fingers, I gently unthatched the hair there, then pulling gently I caused her lips to part slightly. I then slipped my tongue up and down the fissure I had uncovered, lapping up the juices as they flowed. She continued to experiment with her own mouth on my staff, but I noticed that her hips began grinding. The moved back and forth fractionally at first, but as I continued exploring the grinding became stronger—and her thighs were strong, she could push herself down onto my face with a good deal of force. Her breath grew very shallow, and she sat up, so nearly overwhelmed with pleasure as to be unable to concentrate on anything else. She began making sounds like "myaaa....myaaa," and as she clearly was approaching climax, I licked all the harder. The speed with which she ground her hips increased, until she verily cried out "Myaaaaaah.....Myaaaaaah." I felt the spasms rock her body. As her climax subsided, she rolled off me and lay on her back next to me. I quickly turned myself around, and looked into her eyes. Her face wore an expression of arousal mixed with disbelief. Based on how she had described her relationship with her husband, and his smash-and grab approach to lovemaking, it sunk in that perhaps she had never climaxed before. She grabbed my face and pulled me down to kiss her. I was now on top of her, and I could feel that she held her legs open. Holding myself up with one hand, I used the other to guide myself past the fissure and into her depths. I slipped easily into the dripping wet orifice. Holding myself up with two hands now, I rhythmically rose and fell, plunging myself deep into her belly and back out again. She lifted her legs high and spread them wide to allow me to proceed, still holding my face and kissing me. Her vagina was an oasis in a long, barren desert, and my penis drank deeply of its juices. I felt her pushing me lightly with her hip, indicating she wished me to roll over. I did, and she came with me, lightly rolling from bottom to top without ever breaking the carnal bond between us. Placing her feet beside me, she now ground herself against me, up and down, sometimes more front to back, but always in and out. The muscles of her abdomen danced as they guided her hips back and forth; I watched them, mesmerized, and slowly reached out my hand to touch them. Sigrid barely noticed; her back was arched and her eyes were closed. She was as enraptured as I. I felt the muscles of her abdomen tense and relax as she ground her pelvis into mine, then slowly slid my hands north until I touched her breast again. Feeling my fingers on her nipple, she opened her eyes and peered at me for a moment. Our gazes met. Satisfied that I was being pleasured as much as herself, she closed her eyes and arched her back again, bending a little further so that I could more easily reach her breast. Instead, I dropped my hands down and reached both thumbs between her thighs, reaching for the extra-sensitive spot just above the cleft. As she rose and fell, I did my best to keep at least one of my thumbs firmly planted on the tiny button, rubbing. Sigrid now opened her eyes wide, put her arms down by my head and leaned forward. She continued to grind into me, but her stare was unfocused and her face otherworldly; the sensations of my thumbs seemed to giving her a pleasure that she could not believe. I in turn rubbed harder and faster. Soon her grinding devolved into very rapid, short movements and then once again she cried out in ecstasy. Now her eyes focused upon me. She had clearly been satisfied beyond all expectations, but was cognizant that I, as yet, had not. She lifted herself off of me, and rolled back onto her back. I got to my knees, impatient to return to her secret private heaven. But then she did something I had never seen—she grabbed her ankles in her hands, and held them high and out to the sides without bending her knees. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered how much flexibility holding this position must take, but primarily it registered that there was a wide valley leading to an open tunnel into which I clamored to re-enter. I felt the soothing softness sheathing my penis again. Now that I was "driving the team", I fell into my preferred rhythm, plunging deeply into her depths. She was now watching me, holding her legs open—having climaxed not once but twice, she was now anxious that I climax as well. She reminded me of Maris for a moment, with her habit of watching for any indication of how she might improve the experience for her partner. Sigrid need not have worried. I pressed on with urgency. Thrusts that might have send Arianna flying Sigrid's strength was able to absorb, holding herself in place for more. My strokes now became a bit short and a bit faster, and then a wave of pleasure washed over me. Just as the first food after a long fast tastes indescribably delicious, my orgasm was of an intensity I had not recalled for some time. I pulsed and filled Sigrid to overflowing with seed, and heard myself involuntarily grunting with pleasure. It was so intense that when it passed, I stood frozen over Sigrid, almost stunned by my own climax. I was only brought back to earth when Sigrid, releasing her ankles and relaxing into a less strenuous position, literally pulled me down and showered me with grateful kisses. ------------- For three glorious weeks, I taught Sigrid agility tactics, first every other day and soon every day. Never once did we speak of what happened, nor consciously decide whether or not it should happen again. And yet it never failed; at some point near the end of the day's training, we would find ourselves in close quarters, and something would happen. We would be intensely concentrating on tactics, and in an instant it was forgotten. Weapons and clothes were thrown aside, and we intertwined with a passion hotter than any forge. The intensity of our relations was all-consuming. But eventually the day came when the armada led by the King of Norway was at last seen in the harbor, and passions, no matter how intense, had to be set aside. When I arrived at the gate, the King's flagship was rowing into the harbor under a white flag. The first part of my plan, at least, had worked—rather than just attacking the fort, they were coming in first to find out what the blazes was going on. See, I had added two smaller flagpoles on either side the existing one at the fort. The Norwegian standard flew from the right one—good thing I had intercepted the captured flag before it was burned by jubilant soldiers—and the flag of the realm flew from the left. Towering over them both was a flag of Denmark that we had, with great difficulty, cobbled together from all manner of scraps that happened to be the right colors. As a result, the king had no way of knowing from this who was controlling the fort. Since he could ill afford to inadvertently start yet another war with the Danes, he needed to come and talk to us first—and it was only in negotiations that we had any hope to survive. By the time the king's longboat was pulling into shallow water, I was on the beach awaiting him, wearing full Duke's regalia and unarmed. The gates of the fortress remained open as well. It was important, I thought, that we clearly send the signal that we were not treating this as an invasion. "All Hail his Majesty, the King of Norway!" I boomed. On cue, all of us on the beach and even in the watch got down on one knee in deference to the king. At my side was Sigrid, acting as an interpreter. Some of my men had misgivings about relying on someone who had been in the fort when it was captured to tell the truth of what was said, and deep down I had pangs of doubt myself. But I was convinced that she was a free spirit, following only her own voice, and would not betray us with false speech. She thought of herself as Swedish rather than Norwegian anyway, and besides, we had no better alternative. I think it was more her self-reliant ways that concerned some of the men, but then again they knew nothing of our private relationship. She wore her armor but grudgingly agreed to leave her sword behind. Her face was serious but also proud, proud that she had been chosen for such an important role rather than someone less qualified but who happened to be a man. The king began wading ashore, grunting something Sigrid translated "What is this chicanery!?!? Dost thou mock us?" But we said nothing, and remained frozen in position, as the king waded ashore with a contingent of guard until he stood right in front of me. The muttered something, which Sigrid translated as "Rise." We all stood, but I immediately bowed again, saying "You Highness, we are honored by your presence. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Bonir, Duke of Averic." Sigrid repeated this to the king. He then said something to her, and she answered him directly. Then he said something else, which she repeated as "You have attacked and captured a Norwegian fort, and now you pretend as if we are making a social call? What kind of game are you trying to play?" "Please do not take offense at my correction, your highness," I replied, "but this is a defensive outpost. Three attacks on our homeland were launched from this port. We are merely here securing it until such time that the Danes come to reclaim it." I waited for her to relay the translation, then added "Surely Your Highness recognizes that this land rightly belongs to the King of Denmark. We have sent emissaries to the Royal Court some months ago, I expect that they be shall sending reinforcements to repossess the land imminently" The King frowned as heard the translation thoughtfully, playing with his beard. He had expected a simple smash-and-grab to avenge the loss of the fortress. What he found was a much more politically complex situation. "Your Highness, this is but a rustic outpost, but please let us offer you the best hospitality we can," I said, bowing again and extending an arm inviting him to come inside. The king thought for a while about what I (through Sigrid) had said, then began barking orders. The ship dropped anchor, and the remainder of the crew waded ashore, then entered the open fort, lining a path before him. Satisfied it was not a trap, the ship's captain uttered something, and Sigrid translated "Very well. We shall listen to what you have to say." We brought them in to the town hall, which was hastily being prepared for a big feast. Barrels of mead were tapped and already flowing. As he approached, the king, looking around, was surprised and frankly puzzled to find Norwegian women and children working alongside our own soldiers in running the town. At one point he called out to one of them. They spoke briefly, then he continued. "He asked if they were being treated like prisoners of war," Sigrid whispered, "but I was not close enough to hear what was said after 'No.'" "What did he ask you down at the beach?" I whispered. "He asked who I was," she whispered back. "I told him I had been married to Hagnar, but that with his death my loyalties now were to my people, the Swedes." We led the king to the head of a great banquet table, with the largest goblet in the fortress brimming with mead at his chair. He thirstily downed it without pausing to take a breath. More was hastily fetched. He mumbled something in a more conciliatory tone, which translated as "OK, you were expecting me, now here I am. What do you want from me?" "It is quite simple really, my cousin the King needs to not have his realm attacked, not have entire villages burned and slaughtered," I answered pointedly, "but perhaps the first question is, what do you want from us? Surely you would not have massacred our villages had you not been in need of something yourselves." "We need space," Sigrid translated the reply, "the frosts have been especially cold. There is less land for farming and less game for hunting, while all the while our people grow in numbers, so we sent settlers here to colonize this land." A man to the King's left now spoke; the translation was "There was fish and game here but the season was too short for our crops to grow. We needed grain to survive the coming winter, and so we set off in search of some." He must have been one of the officers of the fort, presumably one who escaped in the longboat. "If only that you had told us you were in need of grain," I answered ruefully, "we were hit by plague last year, and this year fields lay fallow because there weren't enough people to work them. With fewer mouths to feed, we have plenty of surplus that we would trade at a fair price." "So say you now," Sigrid translated the response, "but what assurance have we? If we rely on you to sell us grain, and come back to us saying you have none, my people will starve! I will not allow that to happen." "What would it take," I countered, "for Your Highness to trust that we shall live by our word?" "You cannot," came the translation, "I would not trust you unless I had blood ties with you, and I have not." I immediately thought of Elizabeth. "Then perhaps we could arrange one. I have a sister, a fine princess that is unmarried. She could marry one of your sons, and then Averic and Norway would have family ties." "Both of my sons are married," Sigrid translated, "all three of my daughters are not." My heart sank. I knew what I must do. I had no qualms about offering myself, I had known from the start that my marriage would come from a situation such as this. But having to arrange it through the voice of Sigrid—that was going to be very, very difficult. I had not given thought as to whether I might have a future with Sigrid, I had know her for less than a month. But the fire we shared could not be denied, and she did have some strategic family connections. More than anything, the self-sufficiency that put so many off about her, I found compelling. I had lovers back in Averic, but as much as I tried to pretend it wasn't true, both of them owed their livelihood and arguably their lives to me. I held all the power in the relationship, which is how I was able to keep two concubines at the same time in the first place. As for Sigrid—yes, I had saved her from the bear, but she might have done that on her own. It just didn't feel like Sigrid owed me anything, which made her freely given affection feel so much more valuable, and fueled my passion for her. And now...I had to break her heart, in public, in the middle of negotiations. Could life have been more cruel?" The King and I had both been looking at Sigrid as she translated, and she had turned from one to the other depending on who she addressed. I now looked down at the table in front of me, unable to bring myself to look at her. In the corner of my eye, however, I saw that she had not turned towards me, either, keeping her gaze in the direction of the King. Although we had never spoken of it, I think she knew what was happening before the words came out. "I am not married, either," I almost whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. Sigrid's voice cracked just the tiniest bit as she relayed the message in what seemed, to a non-speaker, emotionless words. The King did not notice, as he exploded with happiness, going on and on about something in Norwegian. Sigrid kept staring straight ahead, and her eyes gained water, which I just knew she was determined not to let flow. "He's describing his daughters...I think he accepts the terms..." she faltered. "Ask him if he could arrange for he and all three daughters to come to Averic for the wedding," I replied, still unable to look her in the eye. "Let me meet all three, give me five days to choose one and at the end of the week," I gulped, "I'll marry one." Sigrid addressed the king. He ran his fingers through his beard, nodding, then said something in a seemingly agreeable tone. Sigrid stood up as she related "The King says you're very wise, and agrees to your terms." Then she turned and fled from the room. The King was happy as a clam to be marrying one of his daughters. Fortunately one of the Viking turned out to also be able to translate. He put his arm around me, called me son, the whole nine yards. The demeanor of all of the Vikings changed, and the tense standoff had become the biggest party there was. It got to the point that later, teams of Vikings faced off against teams of our men to see who could drink the most. I enjoyed none of it. I had to stay there, make arrangements, tell the King about Averic, listen to him describe his daughters—anything it took to cement a nascent alliance. My thoughts, however, were with Sigrid. My heart was sick thinking of her. I imagined her running off somewhere to be alone, but where? When the King was so drunk I felt confident he would no longer notice my absence, I slipped out to look for her. I had come up with a couple of possible places where she could have gone. I found her in the first place I looked—at the point at the edge of the bay that jutted farthest out into the sea, closest to Sweden. A place just a few hundred yards from where my men and I had stood in wait before storming the gates of the fortress. She was standing at the edge of the surf, looking towards the east. Although my footsteps were soft on the wet sand, her keen warrior's hearing sensed my approach. Without turning, she said "Please go." Prince Bonir Vol. 05 Vol. 5: A Duchess for the Duke My foul mood continued on the voyage home from Jarno (Prince Bonir Vol. 4: The Defense of the Realm). I had delivered on my promise to my cousin King Edelbert (the third) to defend the realm from the Vikings, but at what cost? In the spring, the King of Norway would come to Averic with his three daughters, from which I would choose one to marry to cement the alliance that would cease the Viking invasions of our homeland. At the same time the woman with whom I had shared passion the likes of which I had never known was on her way back home to Sweden, where I would never see her again. Yes, my dedicated concubines Eve and Arianna would surely be at their best welcoming me back home, but I had none of the eager anticipation I usually felt when returning to my castle. After the passions I had experienced with Sigrid, I feared that making love to anyone now would be as bland and tasteless as boiled potatoes. I would be wrong. Sure it felt nice to be back home, and after our victory at the fort we received a hero's welcome. Holding court upon my return, Eve and Arianna took up their usual positions, unobtrusive against the lefthand wall, waiting for the time when I retired to my private chamber and they could welcome me back in private. It was mid-afternoon when I reached the castle, so only the very most pressing business was brought forth before I retired to my room. I had snuck a few peeks in their direction during court, trying to build myself up to performing when my heart was not in it. But something was odd about them. I could not put my finger upon it at first, but as I waited for them to come around to the back door of my private chamber, it clicked—it had appeared that their usual roles were reversed. The younger, excitable Arianna was usually the one seemingly struggled to maintain decorum, while Eve was always in complete control. But I realized the one who had seemed to be bouncing up and down at my return was Eve, and Arianna was the one quiet and reserved. And so it was when I opened the door. It was Eve that rushed in and threw her arms around me, and Arianna that, although she came over and hugged me as well, was more reserved. Both kissed my cheek and told me how happy they were to see me. Then Arianna said, "My Lord, Eve has some news," she said. I turned to Eve, who seemed about to burst. "I am with child!" she blurted out. I was dumbfounded. "What?" I had been so rapt in the events at Jarno, I had forgotten my fears before setting sail that I might not return and leave no heir to rule Averic. Eve had volunteered herself and talked me into forgoing the sheath, that if the Lord willed it she might conceive. Apparently she had. "It's not official yet," she added, "I am not past the first trimester, but there is no mistaking it." I had fretted about the political implications of leaving a bastard heir, but now that it seemed I was getting one, all I felt was joy. Not knowing what to say, I held her close as she clasped her arms around my neck. Then I couldn't help myself, I had to touch her belly. She didn't show yet of course, but it seemed like you could feel her womb hardening to protect the infant inside. "I was hoping you would be pleased and not cross," she admitted. Arianna cursied, saying "I shall leave you two alone," and headed toward the door. "No, wait..." I called after her, "I have news, too." She turned back while I sat down. It felt as if anchors were dragging down my shoulders. I looked up and saw my two lovely paramours standing anxiously awaiting my news. Maybe I had to get married, and who know what my future wife would be like, but regardless I would still have these lovely ladies to turn to. I was NOT giving them up, King of Norway be damned. And then a smile crept across my face, as a plan began to take shape. "Well, I have warned you since the first that there would come a day when there would be a duchess in the castle. That day will come sooner rather than later...I am to be married in the spring." A collective gasp came from the two of them. "Just as I always said I would, I am now having to take a wife for political reasons. Nevertheless, I assure you once again that you both shall always be welcome in the castle so long as I reign here. Just as once you had to adjust to sharing me with each other, now there will be a third person as well. The shall be a duchess, but she shall complement you, not supplant you. Understood?" The both nodded, hearing my words but questioning how long they would hold true, as I would have in their shoes. "In fact, I shall need you to help me choose whom to marry." "Choose, my Lord?" Eve asked. "Once the ice has melted sufficiently, the King of Norway shall sail to Averic with this three unwed daughters—I'm afraid I've forgotten their names already. I shall have one week in which to choose which I shall marry. And since one thing she's going to have to understand is that while she may be the Duchess she still must share the house, I am going to require your assistance..." My news kind of spoiled my initial welcome home, but after we had talked about it and had dinner, my dear ladies were quite ready to lie with me again—at the same time. That certainly was something Sigrid wasn't able to offer. And while making love with Arianna and Eve didn't have the smoldering intensity, ready to burst into an inferno of passion at any moment, it also wasn't flat and hollow as I had thought. I found myself feeling particularly tender and, well, possessive of Eve now that she carried my child. Assuming she continued to full term, we would share a permanent bond that no degree of change to either of our circumstances could dissolve. It was funny, I also found myself afraid to make love to her for fear of harming the baby. I drilled into Arianna's depths with the intensity to which they were accustomed, but when we switched and I made union with Eve, I was timid, like I was walking on eggshells, and only penetrated about halfway. Eve chastised me playfully for my fear; her dress had been pulled down at the top and up at the bottom, but now she tossed it away entirely. She turned sideways, running her fingers along her still-flat belly, and admonished "see...I do not show at all as yet. There is no reason to treat me like fragile porcelain." She sat back down, leaned back, and lifted her legs high. "Why don't you see for yourself?" A broad smile slowly crept across my face, and I did. ---------------- The winter seemed to pass very quickly. I certainly didn't forget Sigrid, but clearly in my time away from the castle I had forgotten just how attached I was to Eve and Arianna—and just how skilled they actually were at providing pleasure. And yet, it was not as if things just returned to normal at the castle, either. I and many of my household (including my concubines) spent time trying to learn a little Norwegian, for one. The only teacher we had at our disposal, however, was Thera, who had been a captive of the Norwegians for just a month; she had only picked up so much in that short time. As Eve passed into the second trimester, the growing child began to slow her down. While I could make love to her if she lay on her side in my bed, it was very difficult in my private apartments, where the majority of our carnal explorations took place. She could yet use her mouth, but I had to bring myself to where she could reach, rather than the other way around. Arianna picked up the slack; for the first time since she joined my household, one of my paramours was receiving much more of my attention than the other. In a strange sort of way, it balanced out; the extra attention she was receiving helped make up for the fact that Eve was carrying my child. When the snows melted enough for the meadows to begin to peek through, I had the staff embark on a thorough top to bottom cleansing of the castle. The King might arrive any day—I was sure he would set sail as soon as humanly possible—and I wanted to leave a good impression. It was the third week of March when the sound of horns in the distance announced the arrival of the King of Norway and his escorts. Unfortunately it was also a Wednesday. From my brief dealings with the King, I anticipated that he would want the wedding to take place this Saturday, not next, leaving me not a week but just three days to select my bride. I immediately dispatched carriages to the port, who brought our distinguished visitors to the castle. I stood in the courtyard to formally receive them when they arrived. The door to the carriage swung open, and a loud, jovial voice called out "O-ho, how goes my newest son?" Then the King himself stepped out of the carriage. Apparently he had made the attempt to learn some of our language over the winter—it kind of impressed me that he thought it was worth the trouble. That was about the extent of King Harald's attempt at speaking my language, though, which was fine. "Hallo, velkomen," I replied—the Norwegian sounded so much like our own tongue, I wasn't sure they'd even notice the difference, but the even heartier reception suggested they did. He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed so hard they felt like they might snap. He first introduced his wife, Queen Malena, who looked every bit the queen as she gracefully stepped from the carriage. Then together they proudly introduced their three daughters. They also had two sons, but they had been left back home, just so that a disaster at sea wouldn't take the entire royal family and leave Norway in chaos. "My eldest daughter...Inga." Inga stepped gracefully out of the carriage and into the light. She wore a finely-made, brocaded dress with a swooping neckline hinting at, but actually showing little of, two extremely healthy breasts underneath. She had fine golden hair, swept up in a braid that was then twisted into a stately swirl atop the head. She seemingly glided across the ground, where she curtsied while I kissed her hand. Then she took a step back and waited for her sisters to be announced. It looked like she was about Eve's age, that is to say three or four years older than I. "My middle daughter...Petra." A second girl stepped out of the carriage; momentarily blinded by the light, she nearly tripped while getting out, much to her embarrassment. She had very light hair, paler than her sister's, which she wore in a single long braid down her back. Her dress was not as intricate as Inga's, but for that reason was also easier to walk in. She almost rushed to curtsey, to get out of the limelight after her near disastrous entrance. I kissed her hand, and she hastily moved to alongside her sister. She was a bit shorter than Inga and was not as well-endowed, but seemed to be about my age. "And my youngest daughter, Freya." The last girl ducked to get out of the carriage; even before she stood next to them, it was plain that she was the tallest of the three. She was also very young, certainly no older than Arianna had been when first I met her. She was almost as slender as Arianna as well. She had two thin braids of light blonde hair, the same color as Petra's, rising from behind her ears, meeting up in the back and then hanging down, keeping order over the rest of her hair which was otherwise loose and free. She had fine high cheekbones and delicate color to her skin—she was at first glance the most beautiful of the three, although in truth all of them attractive. Upon getting out of the carriage, Freya looked this way and that way at things that she'd never seen—I wondered if she'd never been outside of Scandinavia before. She too curtsied, but was distracted by her curiousity. Her mother growled something I did not understand, but after that Freya paid closer attention to the proceedings. "Ladies," I said by way of introduction, "welcome to Castle Averic. I am Prince Bonir, Duke of Averic and cousin of his majesty, King Edelbert III. Thank you so much for traveling all this way to visit my humble home—and at week's end, it shall be one of your homes as well. As to whose, well, only time will tell." "We are honored, your Grace," Inga replied with but the barest trace of accent. "It is a beautiful castle. I look forward to seeing more of it." "But of course," I said, bowing, "right this way." I took them on a grand tour of the castle. Inga seemed to have something complimentary to say about every room, such that I started to question the sincerity of any of it. Freya resumed her wide-eyed wonderment, bumping into a table at one point as she was walking while looking up at the ceiling. Petra seemed to be paying little attention. At one point when a tapestry piqued her interest, she asked Freya something in Norwegian, who responded in kind. I realized that perhaps Petra was not as accomplished as her sisters in speaking my language. I ended the tour by showing them to the rooms where they were staying, then gave them some time to freshen up before dinner. The table was set so that King Harald sat at the head of the table, with his wife to his right, then myself, and then Arianna and Eve. That left, across from me, the three daughters, from oldest to youngest, and finally Jauffrey. I told the staff to especially attentive to King Harald's goblet, and be sure it was always full of mead. I usually kept a barrel of mead on hand, and am known to enjoy a draught or two, but I made sure there were three barrels this week—and that didn't include stores reserved for the wedding celebration. The kitchen staff prepared a wider variety of foods than usual, not sure what our guests would enjoy. Inga took small helpings of a few things, but mostly seemed to be trying to eat very little, or at least not have food in her mouth when an opportunity to speak arose. Petra also took small helping of things, and tried them all, then left some uneaten while taking seconds of those she liked. And Freya eyed everything with suspicion, and chose but one or two things with which she was apparently familiar. As we ate, the princesses and I tried to learn more about each other, but since there were three of them asking question and but one of me, I seemed to be doing most of the talking. All three of them were keenly interested in my stories of having trained in the King's Elite Guard. I joked about the difficulty of managing nature's business while in full armor. Inga laughed, but seemed to be careful not to laugh too loud or too long. Her attention to protocol reminded me all to much of my own sister, Princess Elizabeth. Freya had not learned this lesson, for she caught a case of the giggles that she could not completely shake for the rest of the night. Petra's laugh had seemed free and natural; all the more so after she confirmed that she understood me correctly by conferring with Freya. Somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of witchcraft. I explained about Averic's unconventional approach to dealing with witches, and the "Witches' Hotel" where the unfortunate were housed and employed. I did not mention that this was the way both Arianna and Eve had come to my household. For the first time Inga seemed to have little to say, while Freya was full of questions. She asked all about witches, and how one knew a witch, and what they did, and so on—perhaps they did not have such issues in Scandinavia, but I grew weary having to explain every last detail about witches. Petra asked two questions with her thick accent, but I thought they were insightful if not precisely grammatical: "Do you afraid that you make mistake?" and "How do neighbors feel about this 'hotel?'" After dinner the royals retired to their chambers, while I met up with Arianna and Eve in my private study. "So," I asked, "what are your impressions of the Norwegian Princesses?" "I don't trust Inga," Eve began, "When you're around, she's all politeness and compliments. But when you were gone, she was ordering me around—do this, get that. I'm seven months pregnant, for heaven's sake, can't she lace up her own boot?" "She certainly has put forth the most effort to learn the language and the culture," I noted. "That's because she fully expects to be chosen," Eve replied, "she even said to me 'when I am duchess, this will be different.'" "Perhaps that is because she speaks the language best, and has done the most research on our culture. What of Petra?" "She hasn't said very much," Arianna said, "but seems polite enough." "I don't think she speaks nor understands very much of the language," I commented. "I think you're right," Eve answered, "she tried to ask me for something, but couldn't think of the word she needed, and finally gave up...but she was nice about it." "She doesn't seem to have tried very hard to impress a potential husband," I complained. "Perhaps she believes that Inga will be chosen as much as Inga does," Eve suggested. "Certainly possible, in which case, why go through all that work for naught, eh?" I thought aloud, "Hmm. And then there's Freya." "She is beautiful," Arianna answered, "but she also asked a million questions. It reminded me of the first time I took my little brother with me to the market." "Perhaps she is very interested?" I proposed. "Perhaps she is immature," Arianna countered, "she seems bossy and doesn't even realize it. She reminds me of a spoiled child." "So at this point," I summarized, "Inga is trying the hardest, while Freya is the most beautiful. Well, tomorrow we shall see just who is cut out to be the Duchess of Averic, won't we? Are you ready?" "Absolutely, My Lord," Arianna said enthusiastically. "Good. Now then...I can't wait that long...how about we go through a practice run?" "Of course, My Lord," Arianna smiled, beginning to unlace the bodice of her dress. "Certainly, My Lord," echoed Eve, as she began to caress my rapidly growing protrusion with her tongue. ------------------ In the morning, the King and Queen went out to see the town and the countryside, leaving me some time alone with each of the princesses. I asked them why I should choose them, and why I should not choose her sisters. "Do not get me wrong, I love my sisters dearly," Inga began, "but neither is cut out for the demands of an important position such as Duchess. Freya is a woman of body but still a child at heart, while Petra—Petra doesn't seem to take anything seriously. When the rest of us were spending time learning your language, she couldn't wait to be done with the lesson and return to playing her lute. I don't know if she would even want to be the Duchess, really." Petra insisted that she did wish to be Duchess, that it was so much nicer here than she had expected. But she was hesitant to say why I should not choose her sisters. "Freya is still very young, but she is also very beautiful—the most beautiful of the three of us, I think. And Inga, she is the oldest, most educated and she has spent her whole life preparing for a position such as this. I can't say why you should not choose my sisters—you shall have to choose who you think is the best match for you." Freya admitted that this was all very new to her, and she was overwhelmed by all these new things, but she would do her best to learn and be a good wife. Then given the chance to differentiate herself from her siblings, she did not hold back. "Inga is very bossy, at least to me," she began, "always telling people what they should or should not be doing rather than minding her own business. Bossy and fat—you can't tell now, because she's been starving herself all winter. She's half the size today that I ever remember her being before—I don't think that will last long. Petra's fine—she's not fat nor bossy, but she also isn't outstanding at anything, except perhaps music. She tends to be quiet and sometimes seems to be off in her own little world." Prince Bonir Vol. 05 We reconvened for lunch, and then I took them to my private chambers—they thought it was just to be social, but it was the set-up for perhaps the most important test of their suitability. It was just me, the three of the, Eve, and Arianna. Then as arranged, Eve suddenly said. "It is 2:00, My Lord...do you wish to take your afternoon sojourn?" "Yes, I think that is an excellent idea," I answered, standing and loosening the ties on my tunic. Arianna stood as well, coming towards me and loosening the bodice of her dress. Addressing the princesses, I said "my dear guests, it is customary that I have a sojourn at this time of the afternoon. It should not take too long. You may stay if you wish, or I shall meet you at 4:00 in the courtyard." The princesses were confused at first; without warning people were moving and doing things and they had no idea what was going on at first. Eve was already standing by me; she helped me pull off my tunic. It made me feel good the way all three princesses eyed the torso I worked so hard to keep in fighting shape, but as they followed it down they could not help but notice that Eve's hand was inside of my hose. With her free left hand, she pulled her right breast out of her dress; I bent forward to kiss it. In the meantime, Arianna had reached us. She pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside, and was actively removing her underclothes. I shall always remember how all three of them gasped in unison. Eve pulled up a stool that had been added to my chambers' décor since the beginning of her second trimester; it allowed her to sit comfortably while pleasuring me orally. She sat down, pulled down my hose and opened her mouth to me. Arianna, meanwhile, sat on the desk, her back to the princesses, her legs apart. I reached forward to lock tongues with her while stroking her cleft with my middle finger until it was moist enough to permit me to dive in. Inga was the first to recover her tongue. "What exactly is the meaning of this display!?!?" she barked. "Sorry," I said, peering out from behind Arianna but still fingering her, "it was not meant to be a display; I always keep the door closed during my afternoon sojourn. But you were already here, and it seemed rude to throw you out, so I invited you to stay...if you wish." While I was talking, Arianna had played a role reversal and was teasing my nipple with her tongue. Eve, for her part, exaggerated the degree to which she bobbed her head back and forth, just to leave no doubt that my erection was fully ensconced within her throat. "WELL!" she spat, standing, "I am not amused by your charade. I am disgusted, and I have never been so insulted in my life. I shall not sit here for one second longer!" And she didn't; she got up and stomped off, slamming the door behind her. Freya and Petra now looked to each other for guidance. Should they follow Inga's lead? "Well now, I guess she wasn't very open-minded, now was she?" I said soothingly. "Really, I don't mind if you stay, and neither do Arianna or Eve, right ladies?" They murmured agreement as best they could given that their tongues were busy at the time. Neither Freya nor Petra could draw their eyes away—I guessed they had never seen a man naked, much less in flagrante dilecto, and it was a learning experience to them. I gently touched Arianna on the shoulder, the signal for her to lie flat on her back on the desk. I extracted my penis from Eve's mouth and she slipped a sheath onto it. Arianna spread her legs wide, and as soon as I was sheathed I dove straight into the tender opening between her thighs. I began thrusting at a leisurely pace, and Arianna, who was usually rather quiet even in the throes, made plenty noise to emphasize her own pleasure. Freya craned her neck to see what was going on down there. Petra tried to see, too, but was less obvious about it. "Ladies...if you'd like to watch, come closer. There's not a thing you can see from over there." Eve now sat on the desk next to Arianna and dropped the top of her dress from her shoulders. She now reached her breasts towards me so that I could taste their nipples while I was making love to Arianna. Freya and Petra again looked at each other; both were curious to learn more about what was going on, but it also seemed entirely wrong to be doing so. Petra finally haltingly stood and walked to the side—not necessarily closer, but so that the desk wasn't blocking her view. From the side, she watched with interest as I slipped my rod through Arianna's moist folds. Freya hurried to her sister's side, more now not wanting to be too far away from as a matter of moral support than mere curiousity. Her eyes now were wide as saucers, and she held Petra's arm tightly with one hand. "Ohh..." I cried, freezing momentarily with my eyes closed in exaggerated rapture," this feels SO good. I can't wait to show one of you just how wonderful this feels on Saturday night!" I was referring, of course, to the wedding night. My comment must have set off Freya's imagination, picturing herself on the receiving end of that mysterious protrusion...and it was too much for her young mind. With a gasp, she put her hand to her mouth, flushed red, let go of Petra's arm, and fled. Petra turned when she went, thinking that she should go too, now that she was the last one left. "Dear Petra...are you the only one with the fortitude to watch? Making love is the most natural act there is, every animal in the forest or the barn does it, and yet we become so nervous at the very thought!" I motioned to her, "please, come closer. Have you ever seen anyone making love before?" She haltingly took a step closer. "I...no, but I have good friends...who have been with their lovers...and we have talked of it..." "Did they tell you how wonderful it felt?" Eve got up off the table, since I wasn't paying attention to her breasts at the moment anyway; she came up behind me and reached around to tease my nipples. "No, well," she tried to explain, "they tried to explain, but it was hard to imagine..." "Indeed," Eve now joined in, rubbing my back with one hand while addressing Petra, "one can never understand just how wonderful it is until you get to experience it for yourself." Petra looked toward Eve, and when she did the combination of her protruding belly and her efforts to pleasure me suddenly added up. Petra looked at the bulge, then back at Eve, and asked haltingly "Is the prince..." "The father of my baby? Certainly," Eve answered playfully, "do you think his lordship would allow another man to consort with the women of HIS household, right under his nose?" Petra seemed to not know what to make of that. Eve now let go of me and walked up next to Petra, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. "Do come closer, there is nothing to fear." Petra allowed Eve to bring her to within an arm's length. "That's the way, Petra," I encouraged, "you see, this above all else is the most important attribute that my future Duchess must have...she must have an open mind with regard to the pleasures of the flesh. It seems that you alone among your sisters have it." For the first time, her eyes were wide. She who could not come up with a reason why I should choose her over her sisters, while her sisters had no trouble undercutting their siblings as part of this competition, suddenly realized that her standing here unphased as I made love to my two concubines right in front of her put her very much in the race. This was not a position she had even given serious thought to being in. "Please excuse me for a second, I am nearly finished," I said. I turned my attention at last to Arianna—the poor dear had been laying there receiving me and I wasn't even looking at her. I corrected that now, looking into her eyes and enjoying her fine features and red hair. She grabbed her ankles, spreading them even further apart as she knew I liked, and pushed forward towards me. I redoubled my pace and made love to her properly. Having now had Eve and Arianna share me scores of times, having others in the room no longer inhibited me at all. "Nnnnngggghhhh!" I grunted loudly as I froze, fully penetrated, as an orgasm washed over me. I relaxed; Arianna sat up and I entwined tongues with her again. Then I grabbed hold to make sure that the sheath exited with me when I did. Eve was already there to collect the sheath; she then carefully cleaned my member with her mouth and tongue. Petra looked puzzled at the sheath; Arianna explained what it was and what it was for. She had clearly never heard of such a thing, and was intrigued—but not so much as she was by my now-exposed penis. I smiled broadly, "sorry, my manhood must take a little rest now," I teased. She looked up with a start, having been caught red-handed so to speak staring at my sex. I pulled up my hose, and walked with purpose up to Petra, putting my hands on her shoulders. "Listen...Inga was partly right, this was a display, or more precisely a test. See, Eve and Arianna have been my paramours for some time—and while I will gladly do for my bride all the things that a husband should do, one thing that I shall not do is give them up. The Duchess of Averic shall enjoy official standing, attendance at state functions, hosting formal balls—all of those wonderful things that make every woman desire such standing. Unfair though it may be, however, I refuse to limit myself to any one woman. My standing permits it, and I see no reason why I should not continue to take full advantage of that fact. That is not to say that I will not commit to love and support a woman all the days of her life, but I shall not commit to only ONE woman. Indeed, I have already committed lifetime support to Eve and Arianna both, and I fully intend to fulfill that commitment. It is important that my bride knows up front just what situation she is walking into. Do you understand?" Once Petra was able to stop staring at my pectoral muscles, she looked up at me with a slightly puzzled glance. The response that followed all but sealed her choice as Duchess of Averic. "Do not all men of royal blood keep concubines?" ---------------------- I almost burst out laughing. "No, they don't," I smiled, the most relaxed I had felt in months. "I take it your father has concubines?" "Shh," she said severely, looking around to be sure no one was listening. "My mother goes ballistic at the topic, but my father has women that he...visits regularly. My mother pretends not to know about it, and he pretends it doesn't happen, and they both pretend they don't know better. Otherwise they would fight about it constantly." I chuckled to myself. Perhaps ol' King Harald and I had more in common than I realized. I had by now slipped my tunic back on and was holding both of Petra's hands in mine. We looked into each other's eyes, both wondering about the other, and how life might be together. It was hard to imagine what a future together might look like when we'd only known each other for 36 hours. "You...have more of an accent than your sisters?" I asked cautiously. Her face flushed slightly, but also attractively, and she looked down and away. "I...I didn't study the language as hard as I should have. I never thought that there would be any chance that you might pick me." "Why not?" I asked gently. "I'm not first at anything," she complained with a hint of bitterness. "You name it, one or the other of my sisters is better at it. Witty speech? Inga. Athletics? Freya. Speaking your language? Inga. Beauty? Freya. All my life it seems I have always been second—or worse. Music—the one thing I do better is music, but you are seeking a bride, not a musician. Why would I be your first choice" "Because you have the most agreeable temperament, my dear," I countered. She looked up at me and smiled slightly. I looked back at her—and bent forward to reach for her lips. She was caught off-guard at first, but recovered and returned my kiss sweetly. Suddenly she felt very much like she wanted to please me...and I have a great affinity for women that desire to please me. ------------- By dinner it was clear to everyone that Petra had emerged as the clear favorite in this race. For her part, she was desperately trying to make up for lost time—she veritably grilled the translator, trying to learn as much of the language as quickly as possible. It was beginning to look as if she were going to need it. The King caught me in the hallway before dinner, and only half-jesting said "are you trying to get me killed?" "Excuse me?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about. "Your little demonstration this afternoon...Inga came crying right to her mother to complain about it, and the queen blamed it all on me! Look, I've kept a concubine or two in my time, but keep it a secret man! Why make a big show like that?!?!" "We do things differently in Averic," I replied, reciting what had become and increasingly familiar refrain. "Eve and Arianna have been here for some time now, it didn't seem fair to force them to go underground after all this time—besides, everyone in the castle knows. Would it be fair to the Duchess to be the only one person in the castle not in on the secret? So I made a little test, to see if any of them could cope with the fact that the Duke would have other women as well." "And did it work?" he asked skeptically. "Your lovely daughter Petra passed with flying colors," I smiled. The King nodded, put his bear-paw around my shoulder and started walking in to dinner. "You can't begin to know how happy I am to hear that. Petra...I have always really thought well of her. She's even tempered, agreeable—but she never gives herself any credit. Inga—she's very smart, but she's got too much of her mother in her! And Freya...by Odin's Hammer, I don't know if she'll ever grow up! She's very beautiful, but it won't matter if she doesn't gain some maturity. If I were choosing, having seen them all since birth, I would have picked Petra. But I didn't think there was much chance of YOU seeing that—since she doesn't see her own worthiness, she doesn't do a good job of conveying it to others. Once again, Bonir, soon to be son, your unconventional ways have achieved excellent results!" He kept his arm around me as we headed into the dining hall. A little further down the hall, the King had a new thought. "So, Eve and Arianna are both your consorts, eh? And Eve's child..." "Is mine, yes," I replied. "Having a bastard is dangerous, even in Averic," the King replied, mocking my catchphrase. "Well, it was only partially thought through," I admitted, "I feared what might happen to Averic were I to not return for Jarno. By the time I did return, the child was already on its way." We entered the dining hall together. I later spoke with Jauffrey at length about how amusing that second day's dinner was. Queen Malena was angry at the world, save Inga. She chose to swap seats with Jauffrey just so she wouldn't have to sit between me and her husband. Freya and Inga likewise switched, so Inga could be next to her mother. But this also put them directly across from Eve and Arianna, who they now despised, so they looked straight down into their plates the entire time to avoid looking across the table. Inga made a half-hearted attempt to join the conversation once or twice, but her bitterness now overwhelmed her attempts at charm. She may well not have even wanted to be chosen now, but it still didn't sit well that her sister would be chosen over her. Freya seemed to sense that the choice had been all but made, but she wasn't terribly upset by it—she was awful young to have been married anyway. But she had expected to be leaving her bossy big sister behind, and instead she was losing her best friend and ally. Back home now, her sister would be even more insufferable. Jauffrey had to tell me all this later, however, for I saw none of it. I was locked in on Petra the whole time. It was almost like we were dining alone, so focused were we on each other. She would sometimes turn to one of her sisters for help with the language, but she was very attentive now, trying to make up for lost time. And King Harald said barely a word, not wanting to interrupt us—but Jauffrey said he could not hide his beaming approval. Long after sundown, I walked with Petra along the top of the battlements, holding hands, looking at the moonlight over the lands below. On the one hand we were still strangers, but at the same time we were rapidly becoming comfortable with each other. "Your Grace," Petra asked, her speech already getting better, "you told me of the importance being open to your concubines. But what do you wish for from your Duchess?" I held her hand while I looked out over the fields. "It's funny, I've never really thought about it very much," I admitted. "I always knew that I would marry when it was politically advantageous—no offense, but neither of us would be here if it weren't for what happened in Jarno, right? And I will need a legitimate heir. I've never thought about much else, for I did not expect that anything I might want in a wife would have any bearing on who I would marry, if you know what I mean?" She nodded. "What about you? What do you wish from a husband, and how do you feel about an arranged, politically expedient marriage?" She shrugged. "I was raised from birth with the expectation that I would be married to someone of appropriate standing when the time was right, and I would have little say in it. It's the price of being a princess, I was told over and over," she answered. "In truth I wondered if ever I would marry at all, as I fully expected both of my sisters to be married before I." "But now that the opportunity presents itself, what do you wish from your husband?" I pressed. She considered thoughtfully. "I need a husband to support me and our children, surely. I wish a husband to be honest with me—I need to trust that if he has an issue with me, he will bring it to me. Like any girl I would have liked that my husband be faithful to me, but in the absence of that I would rather that he be forthright about it. I would rather know my husband was consorting with concubines than have everyone but me know that he's sneaking around behind my back." She turned to me with a mischievous eye, and added "besides...if they understand what my husband desires, perhaps there are things I could learn from them." Zounds...the mischievous eye, just like Eve! Were Eve and Petra to conspire against me, I should surely stand no chance! But to recognize that perhaps one might learn from a prince's consorts—surely, she was my kind of girl. And until that moment, it had not struck just how clear and blue her eyes really were. "What of being the Duchess?" I asked further. She shrugged. "Truthfully, I don't know what is involved—that was always Inga's domain. What would I be expected to do, as Duchess?" I rattled off a list. "Mostly, it is to be lady of the house, but it also means attending official events—church ceremonies, openings, royal balls, events at the King's castle, that sort of thing." "I'm not much for fancy dress..." she began. "Nor I," I blurted out. "...but I try my best at whatever I may be called up to do," she finished. She put her arms around my neck, and I mine around her waist. She looked up at me, eyes betraying an openness of mind, a willingness to try. I did not love her, but as I looked into her eyes, I thought that I might well grow to love her in time. The thought that I might actually grow to love my Duchess was more than I had ever expected. I bent slightly and kissed her. She responded with soft lips, a gentleness that made me feel like she would likewise do her best to give me what I desired. Of my three choices, clearly she was the best. I pulled back to look at her again. She returned my gaze, not wanting anything specific of me, except perhaps to better understand me. Prince Bonir Vol. 05 I knelt on one knee, holding her hand, kissing it. I looked up at her with a slight smile, asking "Princess Petra, will you be my bride?" She smiled slightly too. She didn't answer at once, giving herself a moment to make sure this was what she wanted. Satisfied that there was no reason not to, she replied, "I would be honored, Lord Duke of Averic." -------------------- To the surprise of no one, I announced at breakfast that Petra had assented to my request for her hand in marriage. Queen Malena tried to be happy for her daughter and hide her disappointment at Inga not being chosen. Inga, for her part, had not even bothered to come to breakfast. But Freya hugged her sister with happy congratulations, and tough old King Harald shed a tear that his favorite daughter would be wed in the morrow. But there was little time to celebrate; it was a good thing that I had chosen in just two days time, for there was much work to be done for a royal wedding—tomorrow! As soon as breakfast was over an army of seamstresses descended on the bride to be, taking measurements and making adjustments to a gown they had begun but had not been able to fit without knowing who would wear it. A smith came to measure her finger for the gold circlet that would denote both her marriage and her rank as Duchess. Freya, thankfully, was Petra's giddily excited companion throughout the whole process, and I think made it become an enjoyment instead of a chore. For my part, I was busy receiving wedding guests that had already begun to arrive. It was too short of a notice for many, especially those further away, but fortunately my cousin the king came. I offered him my own room, especially since the King of Norway was already in the room normally reserved for royal guests, but he insisted on taking a regular room rather than unseat me from my own room in my own castle. King Edelbert and I had a lot in common. Next thing I knew it was dinner. Half of the wedding guests had already arrived, and Petra and I sat side-by-side at a table at the head of the dining hall, just as we would be at our reception the next day. She was feeling overwhelmed by the number of strangers coming up and offering their congratulations, but a few squeezes of my hand were all the boosting her confidence needed to carry on. And as her confidence grew, her charm was unmistakable, and she left many positive impressions on her soon-to-be relations. It was late before I had taken care of all of my guests' needs and was able to retire myself. I returned to my room to find that Eve and Arianna were waiting for me. To celebrate my last evening as a single man, they had a surprise for me—they had snuck Kamilah in from the Abbey to reprise her Dance of the Seven Veils for me (see Prince Bonir #3: The Witches' Orgy). As Kamilah began twirling and letting veils fall, Eve and Arianna stripped me from the waist down. Lying on my back, the two of them worked together to pleasure my phallus with their lips and tongues. With a more private audience, this time Kamilah not only did not hesitate to dance topless after the seventh veil fell, but she teased me by bending over the bed, hanging her breasts over my head, and shimmying them back and forth, just out of my reach. I grew intensely erect in response, so much so that Arianna removed her dress, bend her knees, and lowered herself onto my erection, bobbing up and down so that I slid easily into and out of her depths. "Are you frustrated you can't reach?" Eve teased as she watched me watch Kamilah. "Poor baby. How about one of these?" She draped her own breast into my face, and I suckled it like an infant, still watching Kamilah. The dance and Eve's breast, combined with Arianna's impaling herself upon my pole, produced a rapturous orgasm. As I thanked Kamilah, and Eve and Arianna thoughtfully licked my phallus clean, it felt like the end of an era—even though I had made it clear that marriage or no marriage, Eve and Arianna were staying. ----------------- Being the groom is one thing, being the host of the wedding is quite another. Be being at the same time—I don't recommend it if it can be helped. But my father was gone, and my mother could just bring herself to be carried to the church for the ceremony, the first time she had left her apartments since my father's passing. I was so busy attending to guests in the morning, I had to be reminded—twice—that it was time to dress and head to the cathedral. No sooner was I there it seemed that I was standing by the altar as my bride made her entrance. She was beautiful, almost-white blonde hair up, in a white dress just a teasing hint of cleavage displayed. We smiled genuinely at each other as I took her from King Harald's arm; it had taken some explaining, I was told, how the procession worked, as it was different from how it was done in Norway. Arm and arm, we stood before the Archbishop and recited our vows. For the first time I could remember, the Archbishop seemed to approve of my actions. After our vows there was the reception in the great-hall, and again I was so busy being the host that I barely had time to enjoy this occasion—indeed, I scarcely had a chance to eat. The dancing began, and truthfully neither of us was an accomplished dancer, but as we were both somewhat athletic it didn't look as bad to observers as it might have. It was the first chance I had to really be alone and in touch with my new wife, and it is the thing I remember most. Once the rest of the guests began dancing, it was back to being host again, and I didn't get a chance to rest until there were but a handful of guests remaining in the hall, and they remained as much because they were too intoxicated to find their way in the unfamiliar castle as any desire to remain. Petra was likewise exhausted—as the bride, she had danced with someone for every song all night. She sat in my lap, sideways, arm around me. She held a cup of wine in her other hand, sipping from it from time to time and offering it to me as well. It felt very natural to have my lovely new bride offering me the cup. I hugged her close, both arms around her waist. Her soft breasts pressed against my face—I was suddenly anxious to see them, to touch them for the first time. She was aware that I was pressing my face into her chest, and gently kissed the top of my head. I nuzzled her breast with my nose, hoping that I might get a preview of its tip, but could not feel anything through the cloth of the wedding dress. I craned my neck forward instead and lay my head down atop her exposed cleavage, my cheek feeling the soft mounds having slightly. Petra took a sip of wine, then put her glass down. She put her finger under my chin, gently pulling my face up from her cleavage, and kissed me. "It is time for the reception to end, is it not?" I nodded, then kissed her again, my hand creeping up the front of her dress towards those increasingly irresistible breasts. She stood before my eagerness created a scene. I stood up, took her hand, and walked with her to my bedchamber. She started to walk in until I pulled her back by the hand. She turned to me with surprise. "It is a tradition since Roman times, in this part of the world," I began, while putting my right arm by her knee and swoop picking her up. She squeaked in happy surprise. "The groom carries his bride over the threshold and into her new home..." I explained as I carried her into the room "thus." She smiled a big smile, touched my cheek with her hand gently. She was lighter in my arms than I expected, not like Arianna but enough that I didn't strain to hold her. "Put me down," she half-giggled. "Why?" I teased, and bent to kiss her. She put her arms around my neck, making her even less of a burden to hold, and kissed me back. I gently pressed my tongue against her lips; she opened them, and we intertwined our tongues. I stood there holding her, tongue-kissing, for what seemed like a long time—or at least, my arms were beginning to fatigue. Without putting her down, I took three steps towards the bed, turned and sat down on it. Now she was again in my lap, but now I could touch her with impunity. She sighed nervously; I had no doubt that my interlude with Eve and Arianna earlier in the week was all the she had seen or knew about the bridal bed. Perhaps she feared that she would disappoint me. I sought to put her at ease. I kissed her again, gently touching her face and the side of her neck. Bit by bit I let my hand slip further down, until I was touching her breasts through her dress. I made little circles with my fingers, trying to stimulate the nipples below without yet touching them directly. Presently I felt a firm spot in the midst of my circling. My fingers fumbled into the buttons down the front of the dress. I gently undid the first one, stroked the skin above her cleavage some more, returned for the second one, and so on. When four buttons were undone, I started letting my hand slip underneath. The skin of her breasts felt wonderfully smooth and unblemished. I let my hands venture in further until I could cup my hand under her breast and support it. It's weight was appreciable, and I daresay it was the perfect size for my hand; any larger and I could not have held it all at once. She stopped kissing me as I began touching her breasts more in earnest, but I was able to get her to return to kissing me again. If I could get her to focus on kissing during foreplay, it would help her ease into lovemaking. I now gently explored her breast further. My middle finger stumbled across the nipple; gently circling it, it grew slightly. It was hard to judge with a finger, but it felt like they must stand out quite a distance. And all of it was soft and warm. I found and released the fifth button. I then pulled the top of her dress nearer to me, so that her right breast was exposed. I touched it as well, awakening it's nipple. This time when she took a break from kissing, I bend my neck slightly and kissed her breast instead. It was milky white, with smooth, delicate skin and slightly brownish nipples that indeed stood quite high above the areolae. I kissed my way towards the nipple, which I first kissed and then gently sucked with my lips. All the while I gently strummed her left nipple with my right thumb. She lay her hand lightly on my back, stroking it softly. I felt her back twisting ever so slightly in response to my arousing stimulations, and she began to draw shallower breaths. Then I felt her hand gently pushing me away. I made eye contact, wanting to see what was the matter. She stood up in front of me. Then, much as she had seen Arianna do a few days before, she pulled her dress up and over her head, tossing it on the ground. She still wore pantaloons, but she was bare from the waist up. Her pale skin was almost perfectly unblemished, save a tiny brown speck on her right side and another near her left shoulder. Her breasts stood out proudly. Her belly was smooth and flat, and her waist was much narrower than her hips. Without knowing it I had held my breath, then exhaled "Petra! You are so beautiful!" I leaned forward, eager to return her excited nipples to my mouth, but she held me off at arm's length with a giggle. "Your turn!" she teased. I smiled, and took off my tunic. Her gaze passed over my broad shoulders and my chest, muscled from years of combat training. She had seen me before, but now she could touch me too. She put her hand on my shoulders and began to run them along the length of my shoulders and torso, feeling me as a carpenter might inspect the smoothness of a sanded surface. I stood, and returned the favor, running my hands along the smooth surfaces of her shoulders and her belly, but for some reason unable to stop returning to those soft yet firm mounds and their brown, pointy tips. I might have touched them one too many times, for she drew her shoulders in and pulled her torso back as if I had tickled her, and perhaps I had. She then put her arms around my waist and reached up to kiss me. I felt her breasts pressing into me, and they felt wonderful. She had taken the place where usually I would put my hands, however, so I had no choice but to put them on her shoulders. I did not realize that she had a specific reason for grabbing my waist until I felt the fingers in my waistband, loosening and then pulling my hose down. Presently I felt a hint of breeze on my jewels, and my staff sprung forth and pointed skyward. She continued to kiss me, but now she gently explored my twig-and-berries with both hands. She ran her hands up and down my length, and could feel me twitch in response. Her hands felt good upon me, so I let feel her away around for a while so to speak. Suddenly her hands stopped touching me. In the next second they were on my shoulders, and playfully she pushed me back onto the bed. "Please tell me if I do not do this right," she said to me, her eyes gazing into mine so that I understood she was serious. Then she bent her knees before me, and tried to emulate what she had seen Eve do. Focusing on my staff, she opened her mouth and gently encircled it. She didn't really understand what she was trying to accomplish, and she could accept barely half of my length, but I gave her all the credit in the world for trying. Something told me that many, perhaps most princesses in the world would have considered this beneath them—certainly my sister would have. Conjuring the image of my sister in any sort of carnal position turned my stomach, however, so I quickly re-focused on the golden hair I saw bobbing up and down as she tried to pleasure me. She was stiff and uncertain, and was not establishing any sort of rhythm that would build up arousal, but then again she had not been on the receiving end yet to understand the tantamount importance of pacing. But her mouth was warm and inviting nonetheless, and my flagpole showed no interest in softening. She paused for a moment to look at me for feedback, stroking me. I smiled encouragement. Perhaps instinctively, she ran her tongue along my sensitive underside. "Oh..." I responded "that's nice. The tongue feels especially nice." And with just that little tip she now incorporated her tongue, and became much more effective. On the downside she spent too much time just licking my length, but on the positive she used her tongue while swallowing me, and it was highly arousing. Now, if only she would pick up a little better rhythm... I put my hands under her arms and pushed up; she stood in response, as did I. I pulled my hose the rest of the way down so that now I stood naked. Then, eyes locked on my new bride, I felt for the string of her pantaloons. Finding it, I untied it, and it feel to her ankles. We were both now dressed as on the day of our birth. I motioned for her to follow me as I lie on my back in the middle of the bed. She lay on it, slanted, first kissing me, then returning her attention to my saluting soldier. It felt good, but I was becoming more and more acutely aware that only one of us was getting aroused. I could reach her thighs, but her legs were close together—I could not get my finger in-between. I slid my hand under hips while she bent over me, and indicated that she should swing her hips over towards me—but she did not get my meaning. With my member still in her mouth, she turned to look up at me, knowing I wanted something but not sure what. I shall always have the image of how she looked at that moment etched among the fondest images in my memory—her blonde hair flowing loosely, my penis protruding from her pretty mouth, an intent look upon her face, with her lovely breast in full view just beyond. "Bring your hips over this way," I said. She swung over so that she was lying next to me, but I don't think it occurred to her to lie on TOP of me. "Ok, now here," I said, grasping the closer leg and guiding it over, "put on the other side of me so that you're completely on top of me." She released my penis and sat up, trying to understand my meaning, not convinced that I really wanted her to lie on top of me. But with her hips now close enough, I could use my hand to guide her pelvis so that I could reach her with my tongue. "There, perfect." I said. Straw-colored curls matted the space between her thighs. Using my fingers, I separated the snarls, one by one, working my way down to the treasure beneath. In time I cleared the path and the cleft, still tightly clenched, lay before me. I ran my tongue up and down the length of the fissure. Petra made a kind of surprised "hmmph" in response. I felt her tongue on my penis, then felt her close her mouth around it's tip. I kept my tongue busy as well, moving up and down the skin that was beginning to raise and slightly part. Then my tongue found the hard little knot at the top of the opening. I pressed upon it with my tongue, darting it back and forth while trying to keep pressure applied. I felt her hand replace her mouth on my penis, and I could tell she was arching her back in order to keep her head up. "Oooooh..." she said as I continued to focus on the tiny knob. She kept her hand moving up and down, but I imagined her with her eyes closed, experiencing the intense pleasure for the first time. Of course, all I could see was her other end, and quite up-close. It started to grow damp from the inside, and I could begin to smell the special aroma of arousal. Her labia now engorged, I gently pulled the lips apart to reach more of the sensitive skin with my tongue. I could see the delicate opening, lined by the wispy corona of the maidenhead. I thought ahead to tearing through that film, remembered the time when Arianna surrendered her maidenhead to me. For a moment, my flesh hardened even further, rivaling that of my blade, or so it seemed. Petra felt the twitch of rigidity, although she had no idea why of course. Nevertheless, she responded by again taking me into her mouth. I continued my focus on the tiny hood that was the center of her pleasure. I felt her begin to grind her pelvis into me, rising up and down in response to my attentions. Again she released me and arched her back. I could feel her breathing grow shallower still. Suddenly she swung her legs up and over and away from me. Her legs were bent under her, knees still parted in a V-formation. She breathed "Bonir, please take me now. I long to feel what it is like to lie with a man." "I can't wait," I readily agreed, "do you wish me to wear a sheath?" "That is the device I saw, the one that protects a woman from conception?" she asked. "Indeed," I replied. "Did you not say that have an heir was the Duchess' most important role?" she continued. "Yes," I replied, "but it is also just our wedding day, and we are both yet young. We can wait a while, perhaps learn more about each other, before we have a child." "You are already expecting a child," she pointed out, "and if it is my most important duty to bear you an heir, I see no point in waiting." I smiled. "As you wish." I kissed her, then guided her to take my spot, lying her back in the middle of the bed. Her knees were bent but her thighs parted, and she watched me as I took up my position between them. "It might hurt momentarily when I first enter, but it shall pass quickly," I warned as I pointed myself towards her opening. Her lips were almost glowing red in excitement. I rubbed my tip up and down the outer lips a few times in preparation; I could feel their glistening dew preparing the passage for me. Her eyes were pointed at me, but her attention was fixed on things she could feel but not see. Then I lined myself up and pushed forward. Her eyes grew wide, and she sucked in air for just a second as I tore through the protective sheeting of her maidenhead. I pushed in just a few inches at first, backed off, pushed in again. She was tight as a nun, yet so well-oiled that I had no difficulty plumbing her depths. I began with slowly measured half-strokes, but then her breathing resumed, her eyes returned to normal size as she became more accustomed to the sensation, and she rested her hands gently on my forearms as I supported myself above her. I made some strokes at my usual pace, then paused to slowly drill deeper into the hole. I backed off and thrust some more, then again paused to drill deeper still. It wasn't very long before I felt my pubic bone press lightly against hers; I was now fully inserted. Prince Bonir Vol. 05 At last I could enjoy my bride at my preferred pace and depth of stroke. I looked down at the woman I had married as I enjoyed her virginal canal. Her deep blue eyes looked at me, although she was partially absent in the flood of pleasurable sensation. Her golden hair surrounded her head gracefully, and her pretty face took on a glow when excited that made it prettier still. I noted too that her breasts rebounded quite satisfyingly in response to thrusting. I paused for a moment, gently pushing back on her bent knees. She lifted them upwards so her feet were suspended in midair. This brought her pelvis in better alignment with my natural angle of penetration, so when I resumed my cadence I slipped in deeper, easier. Her mouth was half-open in a combination of surprise and rapture. I maintained pace for a while; the steady motion of her breasts became increasingly mesmerizing. I buried my shaft fully, then bent over and captured one of her point nipples in my mouth. I sucked it while Petra put her hand lightly on my head. I moved my hips back and forth as best I could, but could only slide back and forth a short distance as long as her nipple remained in my mouth. With the shortened strokes, I again became aware of just how tight her unsullied orifice was. I was torn—nipple or vagina? Which should I focus on? Then I remembered that we were now married, I would have plenty of opportunity to return to either of my choosing. I should instead be focusing on finishing Petra's initiation into the world of womanhood. I straightened up and felt for her ankles. Finding the, I gently guided them so that the rested on my shoulders. I leaned forward, and her pelvis turned with me—the angle of maximum penetration. I put my arms on either side of her legs so that the would not slip off, then thrust deeply and rapidly. I was trying to focus on Petra's excitement, which was increasing, but it felt so good I was quickly driving towards climax myself. Petra's breathing became very noticeable, and the flush spread to skin between her breasts and her neck. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back; she had given herself over to the pleasure. Her orifice was so excited now that I could just barely hear a sound at the height of my stroke, a sound a little like picking one's foot out of a muddy puddle. And it was still so tight...I closed my own eyes, and focused on my penile sensations as it plumbed her depths. There was fine, exquisitely even pressure from all sides as I thrust in and out. I became aware of a sensation by my face; I re-opened my eyes, and saw that her leg had slipped and was now touching my cheek. Without breaking cadence, I looked at the fine calf close-up. Even her legs had fine porcelain skin, and it was smooth as a baby's bottom. I focused further out and realized it had a perfectly feminine shape, rounded and dainty, not chunky and muscular as a man. As I marveled at her fine feminine form, I knew my time was near. I thrust at hyper-speed for a short time, then my spine locked, pushing myself into her as deeply as possible. I remained locked in that position while my genitals spasmed and emptied their contents. I could not again move until my climax subsided. I relaxed and allowed Petra to drop her legs. Her eyes were open now, watching me, but her breath continued to be labored. I realized that she knew it was over, and it seemed that if I had just delayed a little longer she would have experienced climax as well. I hated the thought of disappointing my bride on her wedding night, whether she knew there could be more or not. Well, I thought, I may be finished, but... I pulled out and quickly lay next to her. I pounced on her breast, sucking it into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. At the same time, I felt for spot I had just vacated with my right hand. I had no trouble finding the tiny knob, it was fully excited. Continuing to suckle her nipple, I pressed against the button with my index and middle fingers, rubbing it rapidly to and fro. I did not see how Petra responded, as I was eyeball-to-eyeball with her chest, but I could hear her softly saying "Oh....Oh..." I felt her pelvis bucking up and down like an untamed animal, but steadfastly continued to apply the pressure. It was not long before I felt her freeze under me. I continued to rub her sex, but now she loudly moaned "Oh....oh..." I could feel her orgasmic tremors as they rippled through her torso. She had climaxed, too. Both satisfied now, he embraced each other, naked and side-by-side, and kissed. "Happy wedding night, my dear," I smiled. "Happy wedding night, dearest husband," she returned. She sighed with satisfaction, adding "you were right." "About what?" I asked. "What you said the other day," she purred, "making love really does feel wonderful." I rolled over and kissed her again. ------------------- For all the trouble that I went through to secure peace with Norway and guarantee the terms of the alliance—we only actually provided Norway with the extra grain it required to feed its people for one year. The following spring plague finally found its way into Scandinavia. In the more populated south, one-quarter of the population perished, including Queen Malena and the younger of their two sons. The sheer isolation of the settlements further north insulated them from most of its effects; King Harald had wisely sent his oldest son with Inga and Freya to a castle in the far north to ride out the plague. After that, Norway no longer had insufficient cropland for its people, and as a result it ceased efforts at expansion. Nevertheless I was now married, and that would not change just because the political winds had shifted direction. I was not about to complain, however. I had steeled myself for perhaps having to marry a shrewish or hag-like Duchess for political reasons. Instead, my bride was young, beautiful, and most of all open-minded. All things considered, I would have never dared hope for as favorable a Duchess as I had found in Petra.