Message-ID: <6396eli$9802251442@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: apuleius@poboxes.com (Apuleius of Madaura) Subject: RP: Solstice Castle by Trane Ch. 1-7 (MF+ FF con hist) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii X-No-Archive: yes Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34f26e16.2587299@news.labyrinth.net.au> Here's another obscure story/novella that deserves to be resurrected. Posted by the author only twice, it has never been reposted or completely archived AFAIK, and several chapters are only extant in one copy on Dejanews. Anyway, it's the story of a young man and his adventures with the sex-crazed young ladies in a medieval castle :-) It's also long (~310K). Could do with some spell checking and minor revision (to eliminate anachronisms), and there's a fair bit of "mindless sex", but it's fun to read and does have some semblance of a plot. Unfortunately, the author's email address (trane@teamhbbs.com) is no longer valid; if anyone has more recent details, please contact me. Thanks. Apuleius (apuleius@poboxes.com) ------------------------------- From: trane@teamhbbs.com (TRANE) Subject: Re: Solstice Castle (00/14) Date: 19 Jul 1996 00:00:00 GMT Message-ID: <8C4C35E.00F802C9E9.uuout@teamhbbs.com> distribution: world newsgroups: alt.sex.stories x-mailer: PCBoard/UUOUT Version 1.20 The following fourteen posts set out a fun - but I think sufficiently erotic - medieval tale of an extraordinary young man caught in the web of palace intrigue, all the while dallying with the beautiful ladies of the castle. Please enjoy. If you do not get all fourteen parts, let me know, and I'll repost whatever doesn't get through in a week or so. Enjoy. ========= *=TRANE=* Author of the story "I Think I Scan", in the new Circlet ========= Press erotic science fiction anthology *Selling Venus* --- SOLSTICE CASTLE AT SPEYSARD ___________________________ Of course, if I had tried to gain entry into the Princess' suite while she was at the Palace at the capital, the King's Guard would have slice me in half like one of the melons that Jenar serves to the monks. But, with the royal family on its annual visit to enjoy the cool air and the Solstice Festival here in Speysard, anything was possible. The day began routinely. I rose early in my small cell in the back of the monastery, dressed in loose tunic and pants, and dashed to the kitchen to help fat old Jenar prepare the monks' breakfast. I quickly sliced the fruit and pulled the loaves from the old brick oven. Jenar excused me from clean-up duties, knowing that Beseer had requested my help at the docks when the royal barge emerged from the river mouth and sidled up to the pier. Beseer's usual mead- sodden old helpers could handle the normal river traffic, but he appreciated both my youthful athleticism, when twenty or thirty mooring lines simultanously were being flung from the barge, and my cleverness with things mechanical, in the event a winch froze or a pulley broke. Being an orphan, I was not pledged to any one guild, and thus had developed skills from the dozens of tradesmen and craftsment whom I had helped during my seventeen years. The crowd at the docks cheered as the huge dark barge with its gaily colored flags and flapping sails came into view around the point. As long as thirty grown men laid end-to-end, the barge was the technological marvel of all of Vorlan. Its huge deck held the green and white canopy in which the royal party itself was relaxing at the end of its two day journey. My eyes swept the deck, for the King was known to bring dozens of yound maidens down for the festival, ostensibly as servants or companions for his daughters. Nonetheless, rumors abounded of the more salacious roles the slender nymphs played in the exclusive parties held at the Solstice Castle during the Festival's warm evenings. "Jaze, you three-balled young whelp, get your skinny ass up to the main pier and catch those lines," came a gravelly voice behind me. I turned and grinned good-naturedly at Beseer's sun- wrinkled face. Along with two identical young boys - Beseer's twin grandsons - I stripped off my blouse and scampered to the edge of the longest pier just as the barge lumbered up, its twelve-foot high sides slamming into the dock's slats. Eight of the portly dock workers lined up several yards back of us. Heavy hemp ropes flew from the boat to be caught by the dockhands. When lines overlapped, as inevitably occurred, the twins and I shinnied up the lines and freed them, tossing them to the appropriate dockhand to secure. With all lines down, I pulled myself hand-over-hand from rope to rope up to midship, where in a fit of energy I swung myself in two windmill-like revolutions and released from the rope, landing feet first on the dock with a graceful pirouette. Whistles broke out from both dockside and barge at my maneuver. Beseer cuffed me and pushed me toward the winch, where Beseer's brother-in-law Creen was starting to jockey the loading ramp into place. Since I had no immediate duties unless a mechanical problem developed, I could watch the royal party leave the elegant vessel not ten paces away. Creen smoothly dropped the ramp in place, and the party started down the ramp to the waiting carriages, where the horses, hearing the crowd's din, pawed nervously. After the guards in their bright silk outfits and long sabers emerged, the tall, dark-browed King Abret and his consort, Queen Serjeena, stepped out of the canopy and, along with their retinue of elite Palace guards, paced down the plank, to the cheers of the crowd. I had seen them in their deeply-hued robes from a distance at prior Festivals, but now was dumbstruck at the sight of the Queen. In the heat, she had allowed her veil to slip and I saw her piercing dark eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and ivory smooth skin. I had heard that she was only sixteen when her father, the Prince of Fanjoer, had matched her with Abret in the year of my birth as part of a political alliance, but she did not know look to be thirty-three; she could have passed for a student at the Abbey academy. She turned and spoke briefly with a lumpish-looking young man, obviously the Crown Prince, Phenshraw. Behind the royal couple and their son emerged a gaggle of young women, only a few in veils, and each wearing light, saffron robes. All were astonishingly beautiful, and my throat became dry. At the head of the pack was a tall, golden-haired vision, and I was entranced at the way her full breasts swayed under her gown. I knew her to be Lorena, the lady-in-waiting to Princess Paleem, the King's only daughter. Again, I had only seen Lorena from a distance, and never had imagined that she was such a beauty. Her walk reminded me of a mountain lynx, proud but alert. The group of maidens was delayed as the King's party entered its carriages, and Lorena's eyes casually swept the dock. Her blue-eyed gaze alighted on me and stopped, scanning up and down my frame. She smiled slightly, and one eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly, then the tip of her pink tongue peeked out from between her perfect red lips. My face froze in surprise, my eyes growing. I felt the blood rush from my head and swell my manhood. Lorena noticed the effect she had on me and her smile widened almost to a leer. The tip of her tongue slid to the corner of her closed lips. Before I could react, the carriages for the assembly of girls moved in front of them, and Lorena's eyes moved away. For the first time I noticed a small figure in the midst of the throng, heavily veiled in a brilliant blue robe. My heart leapt; this must be Princess Paleem herself, who reputedly had been seen unveiled by no man save her family and the priests who tutored her. I could see only her hazel eyes, fastened on Lorena, and a wisp of deep red hair peeking from beneath her hood. Paleem's head turned to follow that which had fascinated Lorena, and her gaze found me. She stared at me curiously, unabashedly. Again I found myself paralyzed. Paleem failed to notice the group move, and suddenly stumbled forward as the servant behind her jostled her. In a trice, the girls were in their carriages, and I was left with a suddenly flushed face and a sore shoulder, where Creen had punched me to draw my attention. "Aye, lad, if you stand there drawing dung flies in your open maw I'll take the top of your crown off when I bring the ramp around." I skittered out of the way, and helped Creen bring the ramp down off the barge. With my duties finished, I retrieved my blouse and went into town to the market square, to help Madame Blaven set up her wooden framed booth to display her handmade pots. The square was bustling with pilgrims and tourists, who had come to Speysard for the festival. The craftspeople and food vendors had worked strenuously for weeks to build up their stocks, and booths were overflowing with garments, pots and utensils, jewelry, tapestries, and spices and dried fruits and meats. I walked through the market, cadging a morsel of vra fruit from a seller whose framework I re-tied, and a burnt loaf of dark rega bread from old Bekdray the baker, whose oven I often had patched. "He looks rather tall for a monkey, don't you think you think, Rebca?" The soft voice behind me was unknown to me, and I turned only because I thought the comment an odd one. I found myself facing none other than Lorena herself, accompanied by smaller, slender young dark-haired beauty in simpler robes. A castle guard stood in the background, just out of earshot, fingering a ripe melon and trying to cajole its owner into passing it over as a courtesy to the King. I could find no words. "And, he doesn't talk; maybe he only chatters like a monkey, too." My face flushed in embarassment and ire. "I am no monkey," I croaked. Her contemptuous grin annoyed me notwithstanding her beauty. A riposte came to mind. I could not resist. "Are you perhaps missing a family member?" Lorena's companion - obviously Rebca - put her hand to her mouth in a stifled giggle. It was Lorena's turn to flush. She recovered nicely, though. "Well, he does look like one of the gypsies who appear in the traveling shows one sees at the Palace, spinning around a rope or leaping from one swinging bar to another. Are you perhaps a gypsy from the Rhona lands, imp Jaze?" I started. "Oh yes," she continued, "your little flying stunt caught the attention of Bishop Paddon, who boasted to us that you were a multi-gifted product of his Order's monastery here in Speysard. He said that Jaze could best any man in Speysard in the grappling ring, could fix any device the Guilds make, and yet recite his devotions as well as any priest." My eyes fell to my feet. Lorena stepped as close to me as propriety would permit and drew my eyes to her azure stare by the strength of its intensity. She smiled, "Perhaps we shall have need of one of your gifts, Jaze. Would you come if young Rebca brought you my message?" "You mock me by your teasing, Milady. You have no call for one such as me and I have no pass for entry into the castle." Lorena's guard headed towards us, his ruffy face scowling. A commoner as I had no business conversing with women of such standing. "Perhaps, perhaps not," Lorena muttered drily, as she slipped away with Rebca, the guard following in her wake. I returned to the monastery with my head swimming. Never had I conversed with a woman such as Lorena. While she was no more than one or two years my senior, her regal bearing and overpowering beauty marked her in my eyes as woman to match any. I stumbled my way through the evening meal, almost spilling Brother Adelbert's soup in his lap. I retired to my cell early, to read by candlelight a tract left at the monastery by the Bishop. Before I could commence, I heard scratching at my door. I opened it to find one of Beseer's grandsons standing erect, his fist clutched to his chest. "Jaze," he cried breathlessly, "a girl gave me a whole silver tren" - which he opened his fist to display - "to bring you to her." He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. I slipped out of his grip but followed him down the hall and out the small door carved in the stone building's back side. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from earning a tren." I was curious but wary; perhaps a suitor of a young woman I had wooed was setting me up for vengeance. I had been careful and had suffered no such attack before, but had heard of it occurring. Perhaps forty paces down the path we came upon a small hooded figure, and I sighed in relief. I patted the boy and shooed him away; "You have done well, but pat the tren in a pocket before you lose it." The figure lowered the hood and in the fading twilight I could just make out the features of Rebca. She handed me a scrap of linen, dubiously as though not expecting me to be able to read it. I snatched it, and read, "Master Jaze, your services indeed are required at Solstice Palace. Please follow Rebca, silently. L". I snorted, "Tell me, Rebca. What joke is your mistress playing upon me? Will I find a legion of the King's finest guards awaiting me somewhere?" Her dark eyes looked at me beseechingly, and then she shrugged. I realized that she would not or could not speak to me, and that she probably would be punished if she failed in her mission. I could not think of any reason that Lorena would go to the effort to craft a hoax which would lead me to arrest, so I mimicked Rebca's shrug - at which she silently tittered - and followed her along the hillside toward the side of the Solstice Castle. The enormous castle had been carved over scores of years into the side of the soft grenha stone cliffs. All had heard rumors of many secret passageways behind the castle, and I in my earlied days had myself explored a few, only to be shooed away by the few guards stationed year round at the King's summer palace. We were met at a side opening by a scruffy, ill-clad young boy of perhaps eight. I recognized him as the only son of fat old Mayva, one of the village's better cooks who the king's own cook hired each summer to assist in finding and preparing the local produce. Without speaking, the boy turned and led us into a side corridors. Moving at almost a trot, he weaved us through a series of passages until we emerged next to what I recognized to be the castle's giant kitchen. I assumed I had been called to tinker with a vent on one of the large brick ovens, but we tarried only so long as necessary to be assured that no one was near, and then he motioned us to follow him up a narrow stairwell. I was mystified. Why hide if I was there on a legitimate repair request? Then it occurred to me that there would be no reason that the Princess' lady would be beckoning repair men. By this time, however, I could not be assured of tracing my way back outside, and certainly had no excuse to offer when I ran into a guard, as I certainly would do. I tried to whisper a query to Rebca, but she quickly spun her head and, with a severe admonishing glance, silenced me with a slender finger to my lips. We climbed several flights, and then waited again for the boy to check for guards. He led us down two passages to another stairwell. Without a word, he fled back the way he brought us, leaving Rebca and me to fend for ourselves. We quietly crept up the dark stairwell, and I suddenly was conscious of her fresh young smell and the sibilant rhythm of her gauzy robe brushing over the steps, propelled by her slim thighs. At the top of the stairwell we waited as servants passed. As casually as I could, I pressed up behind her and lightly placed a hand on her hip, knowing that she could not betray us by reproaching me. Rebca stiffened and placed her hand on my own. Rather than pulling mine away, however, she gave it a quick squeeze and clutched it. She pulled me across the hallway into a large antechamber. Beyond it was a heavy oak door, which Rebca pushed open, then she pulled me through. We traversed a short hallway, which ended at another door guarded by a heavy, ornate brocade tapestry. Rebca tapped lightly on the jamb. The door was unbolted from the inside and opened by none other than Lorena herself. Lorena quickly yanked at our arms, drawing us into a large chamber, brightly lit by scented yole oil lamps. A held my arm over my eyes to let them adjust to the light. As they did, I marveled at the astonishing colors of the silk- covered walls and equally bright satin pillows littering the floor. A mammoth bed overwhelmed the far end of the room. Next to it stood a huge basin built in the very floor. I had seen bathing tins before, but it took me a moment to recognize that this basin was nothing other than such a tin, but at least as far across as a man is tall, made of Rhonan marble. On each side of the sunken tub were two large lamps resting on frames, and behind it was a portal of some sort, covered by a gauzy screen. I turned to Lorena and realized that she was not dressed in the traveling robes in which I had seen here. She was in a stark white robe made of a thin, clinging fabric. I did not realize how thin it was until she moved with a smile targeted at me, purposefully stopping in front of a floor lamp and casually turning in place. Her voluptuous form was silhouetted by the light; it was almost as though she were as bare as a newborn! I could make out every one of her magnificent curves. As she stopped briefly to face to my right, I could even make out the shape and size of the nipple distended from an abundant breast. "Milady?" I stammered. "Was there some repair or...?" God, I felt like a perfect ass. There was no repair in this wench's mind this eve. Her mocking laugh burned my cheeks for the second time this day. "Repair? Why yes, I believe there is some task for you tonight. Perhaps you can hammer in a dowel, for me... unless you forgot to bring your hammer with you." She strode up to me, staring into my eyes with a nearly contemptuous grin. "You did bring a hammer, didn't you, my gypsy boy?" A stray blonde lock fell over her face, and she girlishly caught it between her teeth. I remained speechless, my wits traveling somewhere below my blouse. Lorena turned to the raven-tressed Rebca and asked innocently. "My dear friend, out visitor doesn't know if he brought his tool. We must help him search." When Rebca hesitated in confusion, Lorena grabbed the shorter girl by her shoulders and swung her toward me. Lorena stepped behind Rebca and pulled the hooded robe off her shoulders, throwing it in the corner. Rebca, now clad in a shorter version of Lorena's gossamer robe, whirled to the blonde, but Lorena firmly planted her hands on Rebca's shoulders and turned her back to me. Lorena planted herself directly up against Rebca's back, and reached around to grasp the yound girl's small hands. "Now Rebca, let's see if his tools are under his fine blouse." She guided the slender fingers to my waist and up under the shirt. The soft palms were guided to my slim waist, then gently up my stomach to my broad, lightly furred chest. Rebca stared at my chest, as though watching a contest of a pair of two-handed creatures fighting beneath the soft cloth. She allowed Lorena's larger hands to move hers over the hair on my chest, her mouth slightly agape. Lorena sighed in mock impatience. "Oh, this is so inefficient." She suddenly jerked the joined hands to my shoulders. Unthinking, I raised my arms, and the two pulled the material over my head and off me, casting it in the corner with Rebca's traveling robe. Now it was Lorena's turn to be mesmerized. I take great pride at the breadth and muscularity of my chest and shoulders from the lifting I do and the grappling training that I receive from Mard Hegran, a former King's guard himself. Again absently biting a golden curl, she reached over Rebca and stroked my chest. She clutched my upper arm and turned me slightly, as though to get a better angle of the lamps' rays. Lorena released me, and placed her hands on Rebca's shoulders. "I do not see any tool there. Could it be hidden elsewhere on his person? Yes, that's it. Rebca, you must complete the search." Quickly, she pushed the girl to her knees before me, her ebony tresses falling forward to brush my calves. "See if there is an adz or awl strapped near his ankles, my sweet Rebca," Lorena continued. With that instruction, Rebca darted her hands under my cuffs and up slowly to my knees. Leaving her slightly damp palms pressed to the sides of my legs, the young girl looked over her shoulder with a look that I could only describe as devilish and shook her head. As though absorbed by this troublesome puzzle, Lorena worked at the clasp holding the front of her robe together. Suddenly, the twin halves parted, opening the robe perhaps a handsbreadth all the way below her heavy breasts to her navel. My re-awakened organ again began to engorge. Pretending not to notice the exposing of the inside swell of her alabaster breasts, the blonde leaned over Rebca's head, baring each tit almost to the nipple. "Yes, Rebca, I believe you're getting close," she uttered in a husky tone. She then straightened and stared at me. Her hands rose to straddle her long, smooth neck, and then slid together down past the hollow of her throat. The fingers arched in their descent, and then lightly rested at the peak of her hilly mounds, the edges held in the tips of her fingers. She slowly pulled the material apart, baring more of her flesh in agonizingly small paces. In the meantime, Rebca's hands had traveled to the backs of my thighs, creeping up to cup the join of my ass and upper leg. My aching prick expanded to nearly full dimensions down my upper leg, just inches from the porcelain beauty features of the servant girl. With an impatient jerk, Lorena swept open the top of her gown, exposing in full her high, lusciously round breasts. Never had I seen mounds that even approached her heavenly hills in perfection. Capping each was a pale pink circle, topped by broad, red-hued nipples, now almost angry in their arousal. Seeing my mouth drop in astonishment, Lorena grinned in triumph and stroked the fiery tips with the ends of her smooth fingers. Rebca's hands suddenly descended my thighs and withdrew altogether. She again looked up at her mistress, then meaningfully jerked her head toward my crotch. Lorena clasped her mouth in glee. "Why I believe we've found just the tool. But can you be sure it is the right size? I believe 'caliber' is the artillerymen's term." The blonde lady-in-waiting dropped to her knees behind Rebca. "Oh do check, won't you?" The dark-tressed lovely brought her unsteady hands up to the hasp of my belt. As she did, I dumbfoundedly noted that Lorena's hands were snaking around the girl, and gently kneading the youngster's small breasts through the satin covering. Determinedly, Rebca unloosed my belt and pulled at the buttons down the front, randomly brushing the side of her hand against my fully tumescent sword. Suddenly, the loose trousers fell, baring my ass in the back. They surely would have dropped to my ankles but for being engaged on my pride and joy, which now was jutting straight out. Rebca's hands dropped away, and she stared at the cloth covered pole as though uncertain what her next task would be. She barely noticed as Lorena drew the straps of her gown over her shoulders and down her sides, pulling her willowy arms through. The small, pear shaped breasts impetuouse poked out, the pale nipples as hard as Lorena's. Lorena whispered in Rebca's ear, and then she glanced over to the gauze-blocke vestibule. Rebca nodded, and grasped my pants at the sides, near the front, and slowly worked them down - past the tip of my cock - and down to the floor. The rod bobbed in front of them, and I could have sworn I heard a sharp drawing of breath elsewhere in the room. The two maids' faces momentarily were frozen; Lorena's in the open-mouthed smile of a child who has just discovered cocoa-based candy, and Rebca's in an indescipherable, mesmerized stare. I have had but a few lovers, but those in a position to know - such as my renowned flute instructor Mademoiselle Jeara and Countess Fedragon (more of whom I will relate later) - tell me that the length and breadth of my jewel is rarely matched by even the largest of grown men. It must be true, for I fairly can say that the two young women on their knees before me were suffering from the sort of astonishment one normally would associate with a great surprise. Lorena pushed her face forward, gently biting the back of Rebca's shoulder, but her eyes never left my loins. Rebca as though jolted brought a hand to my groin, resting it next to the base of my member. She raised her ass slightly as Lorena pushed her robe over her hips, and then her knees and, finally her feet, as Lorena fully disrobed her. Lorena's right hand slid over the swell of Rebca's hip and then dove forward and down, obviously exploring in the dark down of the younger girl's loins. Lorena must have reached the servant's sex, for Rebca's jet eyes snapped shut. Her fingers tried to curl around the base of my manhood. Failing in that, Rebca brought her left hand up to the other side, and slowly started pulling on the loose skin of my cock, her hips lightly swaying to the pleasant torture of Lorena's fingers. Rebca's eyes again opened and focussed on the pole before her. Her fingers tightened around me, and her strokes increased in length. I could feel her quick, warm breaths on the tip of my phallus and the small drop of my fluid that she had harvested. Lorena's free hand went to the back of Rebca's neck, and slowly pushed it forward. The girl's barely parted red lips collided softly with my red-capped tip, resting there without moving. I felt the young maid's tongue tip lightly probe at the small slit at the end, dipping at the milky substnace. Opening her mouth further, the young girl lapped lightly, pulling her tongue back into her mouth to savor my essence, and then emerging again. Rebca required no further prodding. Hungrily, her mouth captured more of the cap, dragging her sweet lips back to the tip in a steady motion. Soon, she was capturing the full cap and drawing part of my broad shaft into her warm, wet maw. Lorena continued her right hand's prodding of Rebca's young pussy, but now had moved her left down the front of her own robe, and was stroking herself out of my vision. I reached down and, as tenderly as I could manage in my aroused state, cupped the raven lovely's cheeks in my hand. She lovingly peered up into my eyes, and then without warning threw her hed forward, impaling her mouth on almost two-thirds of my sturdy lance with an audible sound. She lightly shook her head from side-to-side, commanding me to hold her face tighter in my hands. Honoring her request, I moved my hands almost back to her ears, and then firmly pulled her lips down my cock. She groaned in pleasure and nodded. I repeated the motion more urgently, pulling her lips almost to the base of my heated shaft, and felt the tip enter her throat. I expected her protest, but encountered even more passion, as her hips bucked out of control under Lorena's touch. I repeated my joining of her mouth and my sword, and, in my passion, I fear I was not gentle. Still, she flung her mouth forward, and cupped both hands behind my thighs. My hips jerked to meet her slavering maw, as each stroke brought the angry tip of my cock from just outside her flecked, parted lips to the depths of her throat. We continued our dance, with Rebca taking me in deeply, her tongu flashing, again and again, deeper than seemed possible. Her firm breasts swayed forward and back as her hips rose off the backs of her feet and then descended, her flowing pussy clutching at Lorena's fingers. "Rebca, you sorceress," I cried in my passion, "I cannot hold back!" In a breathy pant, Lorena insisted, "Not there.... You must... We must be able to... I want to be able to see you spend." My first blast shot into the slender servant's mouth just as the tip was emerging, and a stream trickled out to the side of her mouth and down her chin. Her hands left my thighs to wrap around the stalk, her open-mouthed face just clear of the tip. The next stream struck her upper lip and cheek, dripping down onto her tongue. The next two shots hit her extended tongue, striking it as though with a whip. She continued to stroke me, and two more strings coated each cheek, with drops reaching her ebony hair. As my emissions began to subside, her lips again captured the tip and her eyes shut tightly, followed by a quiet shriek. I realized she too was achieving her ultimate pleasure, as was the jerking Lorena behind her. Our passions slowly waned. Rebca continued to milk me with her lips, her cum-spattered cheeks hollowed with suction. As she pulled off, Lorena clutched the girl's head and turned it toward the curtained door. The blonde then extended her tongue to clean the seed from the maid's marble-smooth skin, loudly savoring each spattered drop. Suddenly, Lorena leapt to her feet, causing her robe to finally descend her thighs and drop to the floor. She pulled Rebca up with her, and, to my astonishment, drew her past the tub and lamps and throught the gauze screen and into the dark chamber behind it. I heard giggles just beyond the screen. I knew not what was occurring. Having been sexually attacked by two of the princess' companions was startling enough. Why had they suddenly abandoned me? Was I to feel insulted? Just as I had engaged the resolve to follow them through the curtain, Lorena emerged from it. Still, I heard giggling beyond it, leaving the mystery no more solved.... SOLSTICE CASTLE AT SPEYSARD ___________________________ (Part II) (Where teenage orphan Jaze finds himself in the chambers of Prince Paleem's blonde lady-in-waiting Lorena, having just spent in the mouth of Lorena's maidservant Rebca, after which both beauties disappeared behind a gauze screen in the corner of the chamber.) Just as I had engaged the resolve to follow them through the curtain, Lorena emerged from it. Still, I heard giggling beyond it, leaving the mystery no more solved.... [End of Part I] The tall blonde could not resist a grin as she strode toward me, her high, round breasts swaying slightly. "You have pleased us all, Jaze. Perhaps on your next visit I will deign to let you dip your magnificent sword..." - at that her eyes dropped to my spit-soaked, re-awakening cock - "into my own pot of treasures." She continued huskily, "Yes, I would like that." My rod lurched at the prospect of a return to this magnificent summer palace and the soft flesh of these two young beauties. Sensing dismissal, my eyes cast around for my tunic and trousers, but she stopped me by sliding her hand up my chest to the back of my neck. "Oh, no; you're not done yet. Not a young, virile man like you." She leaned toward me, and I grasped a perfect, bare ass cheek and pulled her to me. Her heavy tits pressed against my muscled check, and her mouth leapt to mind. Her full lips opened wide, allowing her tongue to dive into my mouth and parry with my own. My thick staff immediately rose to almost full rigor, sliding between her alabaster thighs, to press up against the wet, puffy lips of that very cavern of joy that she promised I might soon visit. She lightly rose on her toes and descended, so that the thick shaft might rub against her swollen clit, the tip of my phallus peeking out between the taut moons of her ass. My free hand reached up and tweaked Lorena's nipple; she moaned passionately into my hungry mouth. Suddenly, I felt an unexpained wetness engulf the end of my phallus. My lips slipped from Lorena's and I looked over her shoulder and down her long, slim back. Slender, youthful Rebca had returned from behind the curtain and again was on her knees, softly mouthing my pink helmeted tip she had devoured only moments before. Sliding her tender lips away, she tongued down my shaft and began laving Lorena's exposed cheeks in langorous circles. Rebca looked up at me with with a wanton smile, tinged with an pure innocent joy. With her eyes still linked with mine, the raven-haired maidservant brought her thumbs to the insides of Lorena's buttocks, and pulled them apart. Her faced dipped forward, forcing the young girl's lips up against the older blonde's brown rear entrance. Lorena stiffened as if struck by lightning; "Yes, you little wench. Suuuck my assss!!" Lorena stiffened; "Yes, you little wench. Suuuck my assss!!" Rebca noisily continued the pleasuring of her lady's ass, while fondling and stroking my fully erect cock. Just as it seemed that Lorena might try to force the rod into her own sopping hole, she pushed away from me, momentarily forcing Rebca's tongue even further into her ass. The blonde reached down and pulled Rebca to her feet by the nymph's long, dark tresses. The two women kissed briefly, but hungrily, Lorena tasting the traces of her own nether passage on Rebca's tongue. Lorena then clutched Rebca's hand and pulled her to the huge bed and its gloriously colored silk sheets and blankets. Her golden hair streaming around her, Lorena flung herself back onto the bed, her shoulders and head resting against the ornately carved headboard. Splaying her knees wide, she pulled Rebca onto her heaving form, and moaned aloud as the girl clamped her lips onto the blonde's erect right nipple and started sucking vigorously. Lorena placed both hands on the girl's dark hair, and pushed her down toward the end of the bed. Rebca's red lips trailed down her stomach as her slim form rose back onto her knees, her lean ass jutting into the air. The sight of their wanton, lesbian lust and Rebca's youthful buttocks almost caused me to spend again. Lorena moaned as Rebca's tongue began swirling around her engorged clit, and her fingers clenched at the the silk comforter. Lorena looked over at me through slitted eyes, almost laughing at my frustration, evidenced by my prominent hard manhood. Lorena looked down at the younger girl burrowing at her loins and whispered, "Rebca, darling, do you want Jaze's huge cock in you? Bigger than any you've ever tried? Maybe he'll split you in two; can you think of a better way to go than with your pussy filled to the breaking point?" Rebca responded by involuntarily diving her head and ravenous lips even further into Lorena's cunt, forcing her ass even higher - flaring her rosebud- like pussy lips toward me. Lorena nodded at me. I kneeled on the bed behind the maidservant's raised ass and placed the engorged head of my manhood against her wet, dark-fringed young labia. The tip slipped inside, and I heard Rebca's audible gasp, muffled by Lorena's firm thighs. I retreated slightly and pressed forward once more. Despite the girl's swampy wetness, I could only enter a third of the way into her joyous velvet vice. After two more tentative stabs, I drew back and pushed forward - to the hilt. Rebca's moan increased to a high-pitched keening, and in her passion she must have sucked too hard on Lorena's primed pussy, for the blonde's eyes shot open. Lorena's hips then rose from the luxurious sheets, jerking and circling. She cried though gritted teeth, "God, yes! The little slut has never sucked like this. Keep fucking her. Fuck her harder!" In my own passion, I did not stop to contemplate the inappropriateness of such language from a princess' lady-in-waiting, but rather did as she commanded, stroking my meaty pole into the sparsely-trimmed pussy from behind, my hips smacking again and again into her buttocks. Moments later, Lorena wailed out her completion, her hips churning and her ass still free of the sheets. As Lorena's passion flooded her mouth, Rebca joined her, the spasms of her orgasm squeezing my nearly bursting rod. As I shouted that I too was about to cum, Lorena shouted, "Yes - let me see it again!" Lorena scissored her legs around Rebca's head and dove toward the foot of the bed, resting her cheek in the small of Rebca's back. She pushed at my hips, disengaging me from the girl, and grasped my surging cock with long strong fingers. Three strokes sent me over the edge, and my passion spilled in a long stream into the cleft of Rebca's tight ass. A second eruption shot onto Rebca's heaving back, and splashed against Lorena's pursed lips. She flinched, then smiled, her tongue capturing the seed I had deposited on her mouth. Her stroking continued as my explosion began to wane, my cum pooling on Rebca's back. Lorena frowned as though repelled by the gooey mess clinging to her lips, but I could see her tongue quickly unfurl and retrieve the stray streams clinging to her pink cheeks. She then dropped to her back next to Rebca's still form, her lightly-furred, reddened pussy lips still wet and swollen from the younger maid's oral ministrations. Slowly, Lorena rose to her feet and padded off toward the screened off anteroom, explaining with a giggle, "I've got to return some .... thing to its rightful place, if I it's able to even move." As she left, I turned to Rebca for some sort of explanation,but her face was covered with her long ebony hair, and her prone form was still. I sat up to leave, but her sleepy arm reach back and cupped my hip, pressing it up against her slim buttocks, which she wiggled back against my slimy, slumbering cock. "No, my little vixen, Jaze has nothing more for you now. Well, at least not for a few minutes." She raised one leg slightly and, reaching down between her luscious thighs, contented herself with pulling my sleepy organ up to the entrance to her pussy and lightly rubbing the tip against her clit. My hand cupped her tender young breast, kneading it gently. I had almost drifted off to sleep when I heard a shouted "No!" just outside the heavy chamber door that I had earlier entered. It was a man's voice, middle-aged; fear mixed with surprise. Rebca and I leapt up and ran down the short hallway to the door. She pushed my chest to motion me to stay out of sight, and then pulled back the iron bar and slid the door back a few inches. Over the girl's shoulder I could see a grey-bearded man in a dark tunic: old Lermin, the King's prime minister. Lermin was struggling with a figure in a green, hooded cloak, his antagonist's face hidden in its deep folds. Each was clutching an end of an ornately carved wooden chest about four handbreadths square, trying to wrest it from the other. Suddenly, the cloaked-figure relinquished his grip, reached into the wide folds of his sleeve, and pulled out a short, stout oak club. Lermin's skinny forearm came up too late; the club whistled in a short arc and struck him in the temple. The minister dropped to the floor, the box clattering to the tile beside him. The lid sprang open, and several large gemstones and strings of jewels slipped onto the floor. I pushed the door further open, not knowing what instinct of foolhardiness compelled me to think I in my nakedness could challenge a club-laden foe. The figure bent over to pick up the box. The sounds of heavy feet pounding up the staircase spurred alacrity. Grasping the chest and re-engaging its hasp, the minister's attacker glided to the stairway entrance almost like a green apparition. A young, grey-tunic clad guard rushed up, staff at the ready. His glance took in the sprawled royal official on the ground, then his eyes widened further as he saw Rebca and I peering out of the chamber door, our upper torsos fully exposed. I tried to call out a warning, but the club struck again, and the guard too slumped to the castle floor from a blow to his head. The assailant for the first time turned toward us, but I could make out no features beneath the deep green hood. Without a word, the figure thrust the chest and the club in the folds of the robe and dashed away. I started to rush out, but Rebca pulled me back. I recognized the folly of starting a chase where I had no business being. She returned to the chamber and quickly donned her own robe, and slid out to the hallway to kneel beside the fallen Lermin. Instinctively ever the tidy maidservant, she pulled the stray gems from the floor and stuffed them in her robe. At that moment, three guards, led by a huge, steel-armored captain rushed up. Taking in the scene at a glance, the captain grabbed Rebca by her upper arms and pulled her face to his own, his dark scraggly beard almost touching her chin. "Wench! What happened here? What happened to the prime minister and the private?" The young brunette remained frozen in fear, biting her lower lip. He shook her like a straw doll, and the gemstones fell from her robe and clattered loudly on the tile. The captain's face grew red with anger. "What have we found? A scheme of a common wench to steal royal jewels from the minister? Where are your accomplices, you slut?!" Still, Rebca could say nothing. Suddenly it occurred to me that the beautiful maidservant had not said a word at any time during the day, and perhaps was incapable of doing so. The guard captain obviously had no such knowledge, and he threw her to the floor at the feet of the remaining two guards. "Take this bitch down to the cells, where we can question her with a bit more persuasion," he ordered. "Beckon the royal physician to minister to these two men. I must report to the King and Queen of this treachery." I remained stunned, still peering through the slightly ajar door that I had been hiding behind. My new lover was accused of conspiring to steal royal jewels! Moreover, if I was caught, I surely would be prosecuted as one of her accomplices - and, I had no way of leaving the now fully alerted castle... SOLSTICE CASTLE AT SPEYSARD ___________________________ (Part III) (Where teenage orphan Jaze finds himself hiding in the chambers of Princess Paleem's blonde lady-in-waiting Lorena, who disappeared just before Jaze and her maidservant Rebca saw a green-hooded figure attack the Prime Minister and steal the royal jewels, with Rebca now accused as an accomplice.) --------- I quickly donned my clothes and hid behind the large bed, covering myselfwith the silk bedclothes. Within moments, Lorena rushed in, looking wildly about. "Jaze", she whispered loudly, "are you still here?" Satisfied that she was alone, I emerged. The blonde beauty ran over and buried her face in my chest. She looked up, her beautiful blue eyes brimming with tears, and questions. "What happened?" she demanded. I explained the mysterious attack on the Prime Minister and a young guard just outside the chamber door, with slight, dark-haired young Rebca arrested while trying to tend to the injured official, the late-arriving guards mistaking her tidiness at picking up a few jewels scattered in the robbery as an attempt at thievery. Lorena pushed me away and began pacing. "Oh, dear! Rebca is my servant and at the very least my position with the princess is in jeopardy if I am found to have permitted a common thief to serve me." She froze and whirled to me, "And if you are found here, I will be sent back to my family in shame, if not arrested as one of the den of conspirators." She resumed pacing. "Your concern for Rebca's welfare is touching," I replied drily. Lorena's golden curls whirled toward me as she started to snarl a reply. I held her by the shoulders, still distracted by her swaying bosom beneath the thin robe. "Look, the only way to clear you completely is to convince the castle officials that Rebca was not involved. We need to find the attacker in the green cloak and determine who his conspirators are." Lorena nodded. "Whoeve rit was, the thief must have had connections in the castle to have been given access to it. So, we must be careful; we do not know who this enemy and his sponsor is." I could see her thoughts speeding up to catch mine, her brilliant blue eyes dancing back and forth. "They tell me that both the Prime Minister and the guard who were struck by the villain are still senseless and likely to remain so for a few days." I breathed with relief, as the guard had seen both Rebca and I peering out of the chamber door, perhaps we had some time to seek the hooded assailant before I was identified as a by-stander in a place where I had no business being. "I will find out more information and meet with you in the mid-afternoon at the market square. For now, we need to rid this place of you." My libido was returning, and my hands slid around her slender waist. "But I cannot think of a more idyllic hiding place," I protested. Her long slender fingers briefly rubbed along the front of my crotch, feeling my awakening hardness. "Listen, you randy young fool. The guards certainly will return soon to search the area. If we get this mess straightened out, you can hide yourself - and this", giving my rod an affectionate squeeze, "wherever you choose." She walked to the heavy oak door to her chamber and peeked out. "Now, Jaze, all is quiet for the moment. All I can figure for your escape is to go down the laundry shaft into the laundry room, and escape out there." She said this casually, as though suggesting I step off of a wooden walk onto the street. "Are you crazy!?" I sputtered. "That drop must be five landings of the stairs. Surely, I'll break every limb I have. That would be convenient for you; no one would know from which suite I came, and I would languish a cripple in the dungeons until I'm an old man!" Her voice grew husky in an effort to persuade me. "Honestly, I saw a huge pile of laundry at the bottom of the shaft this afternoon. You could land in it and fall as though into a cloud." "And if they have washed that laundry....?" She shrugged. Still, I knew she was right; I had no choice. We crept out of her room and down a short hallway, into an alcove. She pulled open a small wooden door, and I pushed my feet and torso halfway through, my wide shoulders catching in the jamb. I started to protest that perhaps the shaft was too narrow for me, when we heard synchronous footsteps of guards approaching. She hastily whispered, "Then lose some weight," kissed me quickly but soundly, and pushed down on the top of my head, casting me into the shaft. I barely noticed the sound of the small door slamming, for I was falling into utter blackness, the only sound that of my tunic brushing the rough stone sides of the shaft. The descent seemed to continue forever, as I desperately fought to keep my legs beneath me, but relaxed for such time as my fall terminated. Abruptly I found myself enveloped in white, and abruptly I hit feet first and pitched into a mass of sheets and robes. The laundry was still there, and I was intact! My relief was short lived, as I felt a foot blindly strike my back, and a muttered oath in a male voice. I righted myself and looked out, seeing only a pair of wide nude male buttocks, as the owner lurched out of the pile, grasped a small stack of clothes, and darted out of room. His dark-maned head never looked back at me. My first thought was again one of panic. The man certainly would beckon the guards. "Oh, fuck!" A young contralto voice behind me, slightly accented with the dialect of the gypsies of Bertrain. I whirled, and found myself looking into the dusky features and huge dark eyes of Lindea. The rest of here remained hidden in the sheets which covered us both, a mound perhaps four paces across. I nearly jumped straight into the air. Lindea was the dark beauty of Speysard. Her family, like many of the gypsies, ran a laundry in the east end, where Lindea always could be found sweating over tubs and tables. I, along with all young men of the town, looked forward to dropping off clothes, merely for the opportunity to glimpse the tops of her heavy sweat-soaked breasts exposed as she leaned over the steaming laundry tubs, her nipples visible 'neath the flimsy top made almost transparent by the steam and perspiration. I always imagined that she had a special smile for me as I brought the cassocks of the monks. Yet, no man had been known to spend time alone with the beauty; rumor had it that her family was a deposed royal family of the Bertrain gypsies, and that her father would permit her to see no man who was not himself of royal blood. She always carried herself with regal disdain notwithstanding the menial nature of her work, giving only a curt greeting to each customer, and then returning to her scrubbing. I could not decide which of us was the more starled, or frightened. She recognized me. "Master Jaze! What are you doing here?" she hissed. Her glance drifted up to the end of the chute out of which I had dropped. One brown arm pushed away from her head a mass of sheets that threatened to topple on her. I realized that the shoulder attached to that arm was bare, and suddenly I reasoned why she might be scared. The bare man's ass I had seen explained much. I could not keep the grin from my face. "I could ask you the same. I don't think this is a way to get the laundry clean; in fact, you'll soil it in that fashion." I stretched toward her and pushed to one side a wad of white sheetsshe clutched before her, exposing a bare right side of her voluptuous form. I glimpsed a large round breast, floating in defiance of gravity, its dark nipple taut. She angrily pulled the sheet back in front of her. "It is not your business what I do. Besides, he is royalty, like Lindea." Her pout broke; she threw her hand in front of her face as she realized what she had disclosed. Yes, I recognized the fleeing form now. It was Phenshraw, the oafish crown prince. No wonder he had bolted, afraid of being caught in the arms of a common laundress. I smiled and shrugged to assure her I had no desire to give away her secret. Her regal manner returned. "Lindea has so little opportunity to be with a man. My father, he will not let me see anyone, saying I must wait for one worthy of our family. And now, when I have an opportunityto lie with not just any man, but the future king of our country, Lindea is interrupted by someone who is in training to be a priest!" She spat out the last phrase. Her sheet carelessly slipped, exposing the better part of oneperfect breast and the swell of her womanly hip. Despite my two interludes with Lorena and Rebca, my loins suddenly stirred at the sight of the flesh that for so long had been the object of my fantasies. "Wait, a djarr," I interjected. I sat up boastfully, knowing my physique would match up to any prince. "Just because my abode is with the priests does not mean their path is my own. If you were but minutes ago in the room of a certain lady-in-waiting, you would see how unlike a priest I am." Now it was my turn to bite my tongue. By conceding I was on the wing where the ladies-in-waiting resided, I in one swoop had placed myself at the scene of the Prime Minister's attack, not to mention in a compromising situation in the boudoir of a high lady. Lindea's glare softened, as her eyes swept me as though for the first time. Her eyes stopped at my crotch, noting my renewed swelling. She glanced up at me, and - her eyes remaining locked onto mine - she began dropping the clutch of sheets down the front of her smooth skin. She paused at the tips of her full breasts and gently kneaded the full orbs with fabric covered fingers. Her hands dropped further, displaying for the first time the magnificence of the fabulous breasts whose shape I had reconstructed in my mind so many times in the past. Her dark nipples and large areoles stood proudly, the heavy tits sagging not at all. She again espied my crotch, which now was fully tented in my excitement. She smiled for the first time, an uncharacteristic wantonness to her visage. "Yes, Jaze, I see you are a failure as a priest novitiate. It is not your calling." She swept the sheets aside, showing her to be kneeling amidst the soiled linens, her thick forest drawing my eye and my passion. "I, however, am calling you. You owe me that which your ill-timed arrival deprived." With that, the auburn-tressed voluptuary rose onto her knees, leaving all of her glories to explore. Suddenly, I found myself pushed onto my back, with theraven beauty groping at my breeches' drawstring. Before I could move, the trousers were pulled down to my knees, and Lindea was straddling my midquarters, her strong fingers wrapped around my tumescence. Her eyes grew wide as I continued to grow as a result of her fondling, and she muttered, "No priest at all... not this one." I felt wetness cover the tip of my cock, as she slowly sat back, taking me inside her. Patiently, but firmly, she gyrated as she forced herself down on me. Her thick, lustrous dark hair fell forward, tickling my chest, her head bowed andbrow furrowed in concentration. She rose slightly, then dropped her full weight down, taking my entire length into her with a sibilant sigh. Her head snapped up and eyes sprang open. Her lascivious smile returned. Her hips began rocking forward and back, her balance maintained by spreading her long arms out to her sides, her fists balled with the sweet tension of our coupling. She then leaned forward, bracing herself with strong splayed fingers on my chest. She hastened both her pace and the length of her strokes. My hands found her dangling tits, barely able to encompass their fullness. My thumbs teased the already erect nipples, to her murmured approval. Her passion escalating, she caught her lower lip with her teeth and closed her eyes. I could not resist the tease; "Is it some prince you now dream is beneath you, my wonderful Lindea?" Her gaze returned to my face, with surprising fondness. She shook her head. "No, Master Jaze. No royalty bears a scepter such as yours," she giggled. Her features stiffened as she continued to ride me. "Besides, I question whether you are as common as you think. Such things are among those my people can detect, and I feel that..." Her surmise was cut off by a sliding sound above us. We both looked up just as a huge mass of sheets, a good half the size of our sexual bed, dropped from the shaft I had traveled myself. The force knocked us over, still entwined, but now I was on top, in the gauzy light of the fabric imprisoning us. Lindea did not falter, but locked her strong legs around my hips and drew me to her. I began deep strokes into her. Her fingers captured my face and drew her to her own, and we shared our first kiss, one of astonishing tenderness in view of the abrupt manner of our meeting. She sustained it, her sweet tongue shyly probing the inner edges of my lips, and then seeking my own. I returned her kiss with as much passion as I knew. Our eyes locked and smiled. We knew that in this castle filled with royalty, no two lovers had every been enveloped in a tryst as worthy of being called regal as that which we now enjoyed. I slid my lips off hers and down the sides of her throat. I nipped with quivering lips at her breasts and nipples. Her hands stroked up and down my back. Our frenzy caused the sheets to shift, flinging us onto our sides. We laughed aloud and began to roll to and fro, as children rolling down a clover-laden hillside. One would be on top for a bare instant, and then with a twist or thrust we would reverse positions. Finally, we found a firm oasis in the shifting fabric, with me in virtually a sitting position and Lindea astride me, still joined at our loins. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and mine at her hips. Our lurching passion increased, and I knew she was but moments from her peak of joy, as was I. She came to it not with a shriek, but a long, low-pitched wail. With a jerk she pushed down onto me, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I could feel the pulsations of her inner walls as her moment arrived, sending me into my own paroxysms. I jetted my release into her as my hips rose. It seemed our spending would be without end. Soon, of course, it did, and we slumped back - Lindea outstretched atop me - in the near-darknessof our fabric tomb. She tented her fingers on my chest and rested her chin on them. The dark pools of her eyes scanned my face. "Master Jaze," she uttered but then caught herself, laughing at her own formality. "Lover Jaze, I sense we may have much of an interesting future - at least in part together." Her features clouded,"But I suspect that future will be short if you are found here. Why are you in the castle, and why did you come down the laundry shaft?" I already had alluded to a liason in Princess Paleema's suite. Still, Gypsy women are notorious for jealously removing an appendage or two of a lover who lies with another, and I suspected that she would grant me little allowance for the fact that the rendezvous upstairs had preceded my interlude with Lindea. Still, Lindea's knowledge of the castle and gypsy gifts might be of great aid. I told her as much truth as I could, that I was asked to assist on some errand upstairs and - before I could commence it - I saw the Prime Minister attacked and some poor maidservant unjustly accused. She did not ask for details of my alleged romantic tryst, and I volunteered none. Lindea grew thoughtful. The gypsies are noted partisans of the wrongly accused, and I could see her heart go out to young Rebca, even though she knew the smaller girl only slightly. "The King's Guard will probably bring her to the storage catacomb down the hall from here," she said. "Perhaps if you are close enough, you can discover their plans for her." I nodded, and retrieved my clothes that had been flung off in our passionate frenzy. When we both were dressed, she kissed me again. She tied her full thick hair back with a ribbon. "You must be careful, my love. I sense great intrigue and deceit in the castle. Those who would attack a Prime Minister would not hesitate to take a blade to one such as you." She kissed me again, and I slipped out of the room and headed down the hall.... [This is the continuing saga of our young orphan, Jaze, who is clandestinely lured into the summer castle of the King and Queen by lusty Lorena, a lady in waiting to Princess Palema. Following a bedchambers romp with Lorena and her maidservant Rebca, Jaze and Rebca see an attack on the Prime Minister by a green cloaked stranger, for which Rebca is arrested as an accomplice by the castle guards. In seeking out Rebca's place of captivity, Jaze is waylaid by Lindea, a castle laundress, and more...] When we both were dressed, the dark gypsy queen Lindea kissed me again. She tied her full thick hair back with a ribbon. "You must be careful, my love. I sense great intrigue and deceit in the castle. Those who would attack a Prime Minister would not hesitate to take a blade to one such as you." She kissed me again, and I slipped out of the room and down the hall.... --------- I crept noiselessly down a dank corridor littered with rags and half- broken oak cartons. Turning a corner, I say a torch illuminating the next cluttered hallway, held by a bracket outside an open doorway. Flitting from one pile of rubbish to the next, I made my way to the doorway and risked peeping in. The room was yet another of the summer castle's storerooms, filled with furniture, wine casks, and crates of spices. The captain of the guard and two assistants stood with their backs to me facing the far wall. As the captain stepped forward, I saw where their attention was focussed. My lithe, lovely young Rebca stood with her wrists shackled by a short chain to the wall, still in her short white robe. The bearded captain strode forward, brandishing a short sword. "Now, young bitch, tell me of the accomplice to your treachery!" I took advantage of his bellowing to slip inside the room and secret myself behind two crates to the side of the menacing tableau. Rebca saw me enter, but the clever girl made sign. Her eyes jerked back to the captain and his sharp steel weapon. He placed the flat of the blade against her chest, the tip pointing to her feet. He slowly drew it down between her firm young breast, and, turning it slightly, pulled out with the blade edge, slowly tearing the bodice. Her white breasts became more and more exposed, as she whimpered. The officer halted as the rip reached halfway between navel and breastbone, leaving the dangling fabric fully displaying one perfect nude breast. He rested the tip against the side of the perfect half-globe, indenting the skin. "Fool!", cried a stern woman's voice from just outside the door. The guard jerked, leaving a tiny nick next to Rebca's nipple. Into the room strode none other than the tall dark Queen of our realm, Queen Serjeena. Though it was close to the middle of the night, she carried herself as though at Court, garbed in a fine gold robe. The only sign of the hour was the her full dark locks, usually pinned and coiffed atop her head, cascaded over her shoulders, the sides pulled to her temples with simple sapphire clips. The captain stepped back startled, his hand falling to his side. Serjeena's dark eyes flashed in anger. "What allegations have you against this girl?" she demanded. The guard fought to maintain his stern mein. "We found her standing over the fallen Prime Minister outside Lady Lorena's chamber. Jewels fell from her gown, and others had fallen around her. Now she refuses to divulge her accomplices." "Idiot! Of course she would be at her Lady's room. She resides there! She did not run, did she?" The captain shook his head. The queen continued, "The young thing was probably collecting the fallen jewels for you." Rebca nodded enthusiastically. "That's how we train the maidservants to take care of clutter!" ...The queen continued, "Besides, whom do you suppose she could have conspired with? She has had no family but us since she was a foundling, and she never leaves the royal retinue unescorted." The captain sputtered, "But she refuses to say anything about..." "That's because she CANNOT say anything, imbecile. If you paid any attention to something other than polishing your own breast plate you'd know that the pitiful thing has not said a word since she came to us." The queen waved to the door. "All of you, out! I will find out what there is to know. Leave me the queen to her chains, and go find some real information about this treachery!" The three men, with exaggerated purposefulness, strode out. The raven-haired queen advanced on Rebca. Sympathetic eyes scanned the girl's tear streaked face. "Now, Rebca, you will answer all that I asked, won't you." The girl nodded. "You poor child," the queen continued, cupping her chin. "This must all be a fright, and I will release you in a second." The queen seemed to notice for the first time the torn bodice and exposed breast of the beauty. "You must understand, though, that this attack is a desecration of our castle and a threat to His Highness, to all of us. You must hold nothing back from me. We must all help to rid our family of the treachery, and as family we will then give you what comfort we can." The queen's hand slipped down Rebca's throat to the bead of blood at her breast, touching it with her finger. "And we will make amends for this unfortunate wound." As though transfixed, Queen Serjeena leaned over and lightly kissed the droplet, pressing in with her mouth and chin on the soft mound. A guttural groan escaped Rebca's lips. The older woman glanced up. "Then this does comfort you. I am glad." With that, her mouth again dipped toward the exposed breast, first touching the smeared blood, but then sliding sideways to the girl's stiff nipple. The queen kissed there as well, then gently laved it with her tongue. Rebca groaned again, and the queen's mouth opened, taking much of tender breast into her mouth. She began a soft suckling, and Rebca swayed forward on the chains still attached to her wrists, thrusting the tit into the working mouth of the king's wife. The woman then pulled aside the other shredded panel of the robe, exposing the other perfect orb. Her mouth voraciously went to it, as well. Rebca's eyes closed in unabashed passion. I remained behind my crate, stunned at this common, animal action of the queen, may young staff rising at the sexy sight. The queen by this time was muttering, "So perfect, yes!" She suddenly dropped to her knees, her grasping hands pulling Rebca's robe down to her young ankles, and off. Serjeena peppered Rebca's stomach with kisses, and traced a path into the girls dark vee with her royal tongue. She probed at the girl's slit, then pulled her head away in confusion. She again pushed forward, driving her tongue well up between the girl's swollen pussy. Rebca's legs grew limp as her thighs squeezed the queen's face; she now virtually dangled from her chains. The queen again pulled up, startled. "There is the taste of a man!" Rebca blushed. The queen stood up, her face bare inches from Rebca's. "Now, not that I know the pungency of a man's release, but ... well, what else could that be? Has one the guards, or a staff member, assaulted you?" Rebca shook her head. "An outsider?" The girl paused, and shyly nodded. "But how, in here?" The queen giggled, "Well, you may be just about the only woman here to have enjoyed a man in some time. The king and the other nobles with their gaggle of young wenches brought on these trips - well it makes it easy for some of us to be forgotten. So tell me, was this stranger ... pleasurable?" A nod. "Ohhh. Was he big - that way?" A vigorous nod. Both women now were smiling. "So what is his trade? A nobleman." Rebca shook her head, and paused. She then pulled her hands together overhead, and pantomimed a carnival trapeze artist. The queen straightened. "An acrobat?" A nod. "But where would we...? Wait! You don't mean that broad shouldered stripling at the docks today, who swung on the ropes?" A nod. "This was that slut Lorena's scheme, wasn't it?" Rebca shook her head, no; then shrugged and nodded. "Well, you lucky things. Is it he who I taste in your luscious young hole and in your female down?" Yes. "Ahhh, then I will sample again." The queen again dropped to her knees, and in a trice was again lapping at Rebca's cunt, clearly savoring the spunk I had left behind. My much used young organ began to swell; it stiffened at once as the queen opened the front of her elegant gown, and let it fall from her shoulders. Who could of dreamt of her magnificence? Though to the side and slightly behind her, I could see her full but firm breasts proudly standing out on her chest, topped by cherry red nipples. Her waist was trim, giving no sign that she had many years before delivered of two children, now teenagers. Descending from it was a taut, supple ass. Forgotten to my eye and loins was her regal station, I lusted for her as a woman, even were she common. The queen moaned as she continued ministering to Rebca's soaked pussy lips. She jammed her own groin up against Rebca's lower leg, her hips churning against the young girl's shin. Serjeen took a long, manicured forefinger and slid it up between the girl's saliva-drenched lips, and began toying inside and out, further sending Rebca into ecstacy. My own passion stirring, I without thought vigorously rubbed my throbbing tool through my thin breeches, bracing myself against a crate of myrrh spice. As Rebca's eyes opened and her head flew to the side, her eyes caught mine, and she recalled my presence. She gasped. I started, losing my balance. The myrrh crate tumbled... and there I stood before my nude queen. As you might expect, the queen jerked in shock, but quickly regained her composure, sliding her thin robe back up her luscious form, and over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed as she examined me, lying on my back with my legs sprawled over the myrrh barrel I had just knocked over. "Ahh, and here's Rebca's young commoner himself." Before I could scramble to my knees, her eyes appraised the throbbing bulge in my breeches, which had yet to abate. Coolly, she commented, "And are you in the habit of spying on your Queen?" I scrambled forward and knelt before her, with head bowed. Her regal station and bearing caused me to treat her with the obeisance she commanded at the throne room at the palace, even though she in fact was sitting on a dirty floor in the summer castle storeroom, the sweet wetness of Rebca's sex still smeared across her lip. I reached for her proffered hand and kissed it and the huge ruby ring that decorated her slim fingers. Her hand slipped under my chin; the tips of two fingers raised my face so that my eyes fell upon hers. I was lost, a child cast in the midst of a lightless, overgrown forest. Her brown eyes drew my in without pity, searching mine, my life, my past, and the truths that I might have been able to hide from others. I believe she smiled benignly, but it must have been with her eyes, for they held me captive. "Perhaps you can tell me the tale that the poor mute urchin cannot." Her soft, deep tones swept over me, as physical sensation as an August breeze in a valley. I nodded dumbly. "Yes, but first we should untie your young lover, shouldn't we?" she continued. Again, I could force only a nod; in hindsight, I wonder that drool did not trickle down my chin. I scrambled to my feet, and offered a hand to the kneeling sovereign. As she leaned forward to accept it, the front of her gown spilled forward, displaying the creamy whiteness of her wonderful breasts. To be sure, I had just moments before seen them in their entirety, but their semi-concealment now only aroused my passion. I must see them - all of her - in their full, brazen beauty again, or had I only dreamed it? I found myself returning to tumescence. As she stood, her porcelain- featured face rising only inches from my cloth covered staff, her smile grew. She stood facing me, only a few inches short of my stature. Her gaze warmed my flushed face, and the tips of her breasts poked against my chest, the erect nipples detectible even through the thin cloths of our respective blouses. Like a dancer, Serjeen slowly turned away from me. The Guard Captain's key emerged from her pocket and into the right manacle holding the small dark-haired Rebca against the wall. She swore; the little-used shackle was rusted from disuse and would not turn. My arms reached around her from behind and grasped the key; working together - her hands on the cuffs and mine working the key - we managed to release it. Only as we similarly struggled with the other cuff did my consciousness realize that I was pressed up against her amazingly firm ass, and my rod was as stiff as ever. To my amazement, my Queen was responding, lightly moving her rear against me in vertical circles, pausing when my length was aligned with her buttocks' cleft. Needing only one hand to aid my by grasping the band on Rebca's wrist, she slid the other behind my back and deftly unknotted the waist string of my breeches, allowing them to fall to the floor. The long fingers wove a light spell around the head of my pride and joy, then stroked its underside, clear back to my soft balls. As my grip on the manacle became more secure, Serjeen took her remaining hand and lifted the hem of her regal robe to her hips, and then pointed my glistening tip down. Standing on her toes, she drew me forward, my thundering log sliding in the passageway between her thighs. My sensitive tip could feel the down of her lustlips as it passed underneath them. Fortunately, the remaining shackle just then fell open, for my concentration was understandably waning. Rebca fell to the floor in release, rubbing her wrists. The dark-tressed young girl gazed at us, her simple dress shredded, exposing a small but perfectly shaped burgeoning breast. Serjeen and I paid her little mind, for our subtle dance continued. Her Highness dropped down to her heels, placing more pressure on my trapped shaft as it moved. Its recurring path was made easier, as I felt the womanly dew seeping from her cleft, lubricating my way. I bent my knees so as to allow my phallus an angle up into her womanly passage, and the tip prodded at the entrance. Serjeen's hand reached behind her and grasped the base of my burning shaft. She rubbed the head against her swollen lips. "Perhaps not, my young friend," she moaned huskily, over her shoulder. "Let us enjoy this frolic for what it is." I looked to her, perplexed, but Rebca picked up on the Queen's meaning. She laved flung up the front of the lavish robe and darted her head underneath. Of a moment, I felt her young mouth capture the very end of my cock, and her finger tips hold the underside, pushing the shaft up against my Queen's mound. My hips involuntarily pushed forward, basking in the wet warmth of the young girl's sweet maw. I pulled back and resumed my sawing between Serjeen's thighs. She groaned in exquisite pleasure, but not just from the pressure of my thick member. For each time I withdrew, Rebca's energetic tongue darted between my cock tip and the Queen's clit, alternating her sucking and licking between our two engorged organs. Rebca's free hand reached all the way past both our pair of thighs and lightly caressed my tightening testicles. Still, her hungry mouth did not slacken, and Serjeen's panting grew louder and more insistent. Our lusty terpsichorean menage a trois continued, and our pace hastened. Just as I began to feel the stirrings of my own impending explosion, the Queen let out a curt shriek, her loins heaved to and fro, and then, leaning forward against the cellar wall, she pressed Rebca's porcelain-featured face to her pussy. At that moment - and I would swear it was an accident - I jerked forward and my member slipped into her flowering, orgasming regal opening. I surged in all the way, and felt the pulsations of her spasms on the full length of my organ. As her pulsations subsided, Serjeen reluctantly drew her hips forward. My engorged manhood slipped out of her sheath with an audible plop. She leaned heavily against the wall, and Rebca's face, covered with the Queen's moistness as Serjeen's face earlier had been slathered with her own, emerged from between the older woman's thighs; the hem of Serjeen's robe fell to reclaim her regal modesty. My Queen dropped to one knee to catch her breath, which still emerged in gasps through her smiling lips. She leaned down and caressed Rebca's face, then soundly bussed the maidservant in gratitude, accompanied by a whispered, "So many thanks to you." Still kneeling, Serjeen spun to face me - or at least my groin. She planted a firm, open-mouthed kiss on my still erect, still hopeful cock, and then drew my breeches up my thighs and over the tip of my elongated rod, and refastened the drawstring. She rose to her feet and cupped my pouting chin. "Do not be disappointed, young...." Her voice trailed off. "Jaze," I advised her, sheepish at the thought that my liege had not even known my name as she was allowing me such intimacies. "Yes, Jaze," she continued. "I have can redeem any disappointment in many ways out of thankfulness for the pleasure that you have brought me. I have not known such pampering in some time. A King who has an entire land at his beck and call is not necessarily used to seeing to the physical satisfaction of others, no matter how kindly he might otherwise be." She playfully slapped me. "Besides, you are lucky that I do not have you beheaded for extracting such intimacies against my express instructions" - obviously meaning my penetration of her in the midst of her climactic joy - "even if such a monstrous intimacy was just the perfect accompanist to Rebca's skillful ministrations." Her face grew more serious. Regardless of her lustful interlude, this woman was still the consort to the most powerful man in our known world, and duty could never long leave her mind. "Tell me now, you big-staffed young stallion," she chided my blushing face, "what do you know of this attack and theft for which Rebca was held." When I hesitated, she drew her face close to mine. "There is no point in further protecting Rebca's honor; the secret seems inconsequential now." Still, I paused. "You are protecting yet another. Ah yes, that harlot Lorena, no doubt." I nodded, slowly. "With those high, full breasts of hers, she tries to attract many a young buck, even though palace security thwarts almost all of her seductions. The resourcefulness of you both is, uh, commendable. Still, I'll see to it that she aids the scullery maids for a week or two to remind her of her responsibilities. Anyway, tell me what you know here." I explained my presence in Lorena's chambers, with the Queen chuckling at my attempts to sidestep explanations of my activities there. I told her nothing of Lorena and Rebca's strange attitude towards and visits to whatever lay beyond the gauze screen in the chamber. I went on to tell of the sound we heard outside, and the green-cloaked stranger's attack on the Prime Minister and the young guard who rushed in to offer assistance, and added my surmise that the attacker was a palace insider. The Queen listened to my tale with a grave frown. "Yes, it must be someone who is a part of our retinue, or at least an ally of such a one. But why the interest in the jewels? Any jeweler would know that stones of that magnificence must be from the royal collection, so they could not be sold." The beautiful, raven-haired Queen paused in thought, "Perhaps... you see, there are old stories that the archivists tell that some combination of the stones, and perhaps others that have never been found, bring certain powers and enchantments - magic that revolves around the throne of our kingdom. If one found the remaining stones, the royal collection would become infinitely more valuable. Rumors of such finds have reached our ears, but we never dreamed...." I replied, "But would it not be much safer to offer to sell to the royal collection the newly found stones, rather than a daring raid on the most formidably protected castle in the kingdom outside of the main palace itself?" "You are very shrewd, Jaze. Perhaps one of the finders feared that the King would simply confiscate such gems, or wished the full power of the stones, whatever they might be, for himself. In any case, we can solve nothing further here. And, there is not much I can do in my isolated position. I could perhaps put trusted members of the King's Guard to work on these suppositions, but it is difficult to know who might be the accomplices of this villain. "Here is what we must do." She began to pace in thought, then turned to us. "Rebca, you must first cover your poor, abused body before you are raped." The girl modestly tucked her bodice under a nearly severed strap. "Because of your muteness, you can go many places in the palace unnoticed by those you are near; it is their stupid prejudices that suggest to them that you cannot hear. Listen for any clues as to strangers or actions that do not belong." Her brown eyes found mine. "Jaze, with your size and acrobatic skills I would guess that you have talent as a fighter." I told her of my training with a retired King's guard, and modestly indicated that I probably would be deemed his most highly regarded pupil. "Fine, I will arrange for you to be invited to tonight's nobles' feast to celebrate the beginning of our stay here at the Solstice Castle; you can come to supply wrestling fodder as an entertainment feature. As the revelry continues, you might be able to pick up some hints from the men as they get drunk - as they inevitably do after the women are commanded to go." Serjeen headed for the door, then turned briefly. "If your help in finding the traitor is as able as your 'assistance' here" - her smile broadened - "you two will be amazed at the rewards I can promise." Serjeen left. Rebca and I looked at each other, little dreaming that the risks and rewards to us both who far surpass anything that our Queen could have imagined. [Where our hero Jaze seeks to solve the mystery of the castle attack by accepting the Queen's invitation to attend the Noble's Feast commemorating the beginning of summer at the castle.] With guidance from Rebca, I stumbled away from the castle by way of a cellar entrance and made my way back to the monastery, seranaded by roosters greeting the morning sun. I slipped into the kitchen just before old Bekray waddled in. "Ahh, handsome young Jaze. Up early this morning, are you?" He patted my shoulder with his usual familiarity. I nodded eagerly. "So responsible you are..." I began to detect a little sarcasm in his voice. "You've already made up your bed. In fact, it seems as though it wasn't even slept in." He turned and peered at me, an inquisitor with flour dusting his pudgy features. I shrugged, noncommittal. "I hope you weren't huddled in some alley with a loathsome street urchin, rutting like a couple of filthy animals." He shuddered in mock terror. I could not resist the opportunity. "Well, actually, Bekray, I was invited to the castle to dally with the queen, a gypsy, and a couple of ladies in waiting. You know, my usual evening." The baker stared for a moment, then took a playful swat at me with a dough-covered hand. Still, he scowled. "Now, let's not be defaming the honor and virtue of our queen, may she and King Abret long rule at the mercy of our God. Well, whomever lowered herself to lie with you, let us just hope that she practices a modicum of hygiene. It would not do to have you bringing some foul louse into our midst, where it could set up a colony in Brother Tomath's beard and we might not discover the infestation for weeks." Bekray turned away dismissively, and I hurried to set up the dining hall for the monks who I served in return for my pallet in my small cell and whatever education the monks could provide. I somehow managed to serve them breakfast without spilling any of Bekray's porridge, and staggered off to my cell for the sleep that my escapades in the castle had denied me. As I lay my head on the oft-patched down pillow, Bekray's admonition about the sanctity of the queen rang in my ears. Indeed, what sacrilege had I committed? My head began to swim with the realization of that of which I had unwittingly become a part. Anyone in the castle might desire my head for a variety of perceived offenses,from the King's Guard for my mere presence in the castle to the Crown Prince, Phrenshaw, for my interruption of his assignation with Lindea, to the foul thug who had struck the Prime Minister and a guard and escaped with at least some of the castle jewels. Even in my fatigue, sleep took an uncommonly long time to find me. I woke with a start and discovered Brother Niventa's gaunt face above mine; his large hand was clapped to my shoulder, shaking me. His usual monotone had risen to an unusually high pitch in excitement. From the color of the sun at my cell's small window, I could tell it was late afternoon. Sure enough, someone from the Queen's palace staff had requested that my wrestling mentor send over his most promising wrestler to add to the evening's entertainment at the Feast, and old Fremna personally had rushed over to tell me of my honor and to prepare me for whatever bout I might be thrown into. I washed and dressed in my finest - and loosest - blouse and breeches, not wishing to be constrained by my clothing, all the while with Fremna fretting over me and offering trite warnings about wrestling strategy. When we emerged from the monastery, we found a King's coach with a two-horse team of black stallions in front. Fremna and I leapt in, and went off to the castle. Words are inadequate to describe the gaiety and lavishness of the fest. Bright banners flew everywhere on castle grounds. Elegantly attired, highborn men and women promendaded around the site, with armies of scantily attired servants, both male and female, omnipresent with victuals and libations. Small chamber groups played throughout the lush landscape. Randomly distributed tables featured games of chance for the nobles to test their luck against one another. I had little chance to enjoy my first examination of the party, for a small, officious, balding official bustled up and claimed us from the guards who had delivered us. We went backstage at a small ampitheatre around which the festivities seemed to revolve. Trying to be alert to my surroundings, I peered into passages we passed. My heart stopped; just inside a room bearing the revelers cloaks I saw the distinctive green cloak of the villain who had attacked the Prime Minister. The man was here at the festival! I had no chance to look further. Amidst a blaring of trumpets, I was pushed onstage, where I confronted a huge, hairy soldier - obviously my opponent. His skirt-like kra identified him as a member of one of the King's elite cavalry. The assembled crowd began to drift toward the theater. I could hear the buzz of interest that a local boy - me - would be challenging an experienced warriors. Derisive calls reached my ears, as well as the long odds being demanded by a few of the local nobles who seemed inclined to bet for me more out of a sense of loyalty to the region than out of any belief I might prevail. Pretending to a jauntiness that I did not feel, I strode to the stage center for the ritual greeting. I offered a wish for the continued glories of the soldier's platoon; he grunted and asked me where my remains should be shipped. A drunk duke serving as referee waved his hand, and the battle commenced. Given the man's size and experience, I knew my only hope was to get him overconfident and off guard. The strategy nearly was my undoing, as he took advantage of my feigned stumble to grab me by the shoulder and fling me seven strides across the stage. Only his desire to toy with me kept him from dismantling me on the spot. I thereafter used my slight speed advantage to dart in and grab an arm or leg, give it a twist, and then high tail away. The crowd roared at his frustration, but still sensed time to be his ally. I waited until I had managed to slip inside his guard and tug at his shaggy beard before pulling on of Fremna's favorite tricks. I let the beast grab my arm on my next pass and fling me over his shoulder. I pretended to land heavily, with my leg extended at an awkward angle. Sure enough, the soldier dove toward the opportunity to break it - or at least dislocate my knee. I quickly retracted it, leapt on his back and slipped on an arm bar, and twisted him on his shoulderblades. The crowd screamed in approval, the bleary-eyed duke raised his wine-spotted kerchief, and I was the victor. The soldier roared in outrage, but several of his fellow warriors rushed onto the stage to tease him with mock punches and hustle him off,and I was left alone with the Duke, who clapped me on the back. Suddenly, a murmur began to run through the throng, which parted in its middle to allow the passage of a figure; King Abret himself was coming onto the stage. He bounded up, gave me a politic smile, and turned tothe crowd. "My friends," he bellowed. "I see we have further proof of the manliness of our subjects in our host town of Speysard." The local nobles roared. "Or at least of the effects of too much local wine on our soldiers unused to its effects... I'd like to see this adroit young man to be truly challenged. If he's not too tired." He turned to me with a polite questioning glance; I nodded obediently then - realizing thatthis gesture might be construed as a sign I was tired - shook my head,then nodded again. Damn! How do I signal I was - of course - up to whatever he was suggesting? The crowd laughed at my eagerness. "If he's not too tired, I'd like to match him up against my only son, Prince Phrenshaw." The crowd roared its approval. I froze in confusion. That lumpy guy with the bad haircut who I'd chased out of the gypsy queen's arms? Oh my Lord, what if he had spotted me there in the laundry room and recognizes me now? My anxiety had little time to develop. The heir to the throne shambled through the crowd and, blushing, hopped onto the low stage. The King momentarily took him aside and exchanged a private word; a warning not to let a commoner defeat him upon pain of loss of a dukedom? Phrenshaw strode forward with a stern expression, and the King himself led us to the center of the stage for the greeting ritual. I stammered out a blessing for his lineage's unbroken accession to the throne for countless eons. His features lightened and he said with an even tone and surprisingly warm smile, "I implore you to not ease up on account of my station, young man. I want your best fight. Bear in mind, I did pick up on your clever gambit to lure in your adversary; I will not underestimate your skullduggery." The King waved his arm, and our battle commenced. The oafish-seeming youth began a measured approach, and we lightly grappled with our hands, each looking for an opening. I was astonished at his grace, enhanced by what was obviously outstanding training. The Prince recognized his lack of athleticism and wrestled within himself, not allowing himself to be overly aggressive or caught offguard. I did slip inside his guard, but found that with his big butt and heavy lower legs he was not easy to move. Soon, though, I caught him with a feint, slipped under his arms,and flipped him onto his side. I grabbed him almost before he reached the marble stage, and levered him up on one shoulder before he could properly brace himself for the fall. In trying to spin himself around, he planted his arm in an awkward angle and I realized that he could not fend off a pin. Just as I rapped him in a twisting arm and neck hold, I saw that the pinning move would likely dislocate his elbow, if not break his arm altogether, a not-uncommon result of grappling. The Prince's face grew white with the identical thought. In an instant, I made my decision, releasing him sufficiently to allow him to re-position his arm to safety, then I locked him in a cradle, his neck and bent knee wedged between my two elbows, my hands locked together. Alas, in trying to pin him, I leaned too far forward. He jacknifed his legs, and the leverage of his large ass caused me to somersault beyond him, where he reversed our fortunes and laid a quick pin on me, ending the match. My self-directed anger was short-lived. The panting, beaming prince leapt up, and clutched my arm to help me up with the comraderie usually extended to equals. The crowd applauded and whistled its approval of our fevered match, and the King came up and embraced his son. "Well fought, lad!" He turned away from me dismissively - as I would expect - but Phrenshaw stopped him. "Father, we must invite my friend and able adversary to the post-festival ... revels tonight. By taking on two of us, he certainly deserves it." I beamed at the compliment and internally rejoiced; I would have further opportunity to search for the assailant! The King distractedly waved his assent, and led his son off the stage to awaiting group of nobles. I scuttled from the stage, where Fremna waited to pound me on the back in congratulations, then good-naturedly boxed my ear for allowing myself to lose my match to the Prince. "Still," he continued, "it would not have done for you to have broken the Prince's arm. Ahh, lad, what I wouldn't give to be able join you at the later fun..." All grown men of Speysard had enviously shared rumors of the late-evening party that the men of noble classes enjoyed following the feast. The gossip centered on tales of dozens of nubile women, young and often virginal, who would service the men of royalty. As stories had it, virtually no sexual debauchery went unexplored, long into the early morning hours. My heart raced in anticipation. I waited out the next two hours behind the small stage, chatting with Fremna, sipping on juices, and enjoying the brash stares of serving wenches who eyed me as they passed by. Soon, the families of nobles began slipping out, guided by servants,and the men started to drift through a grove of trees near the top of the natural ampitheatre. I began to fear the Prince had forgotten his invitation, when a tall, slender, lithe young beauty with shoulder-length blonde hair, a slight inward curl at the tips delightfully framing her stunning features, emerged from the grove and approached me. Flashing green eyes and high, sharp cheekbones - she was a sculptor's dream. The billowing of the thin saffron robe revealed slim hips and modest, but high and well-rounded, young breasts. "Master Jaze?" she inquired with an obeisant smile. I rose from my seat, as though accustomed to being summoned by royal servants. "I am Charel. I am to see you to the party, and to attend to any other needs you may have this evening." I tried not to gape; she nonetheless dropped her eyes modestly. She took my arm, I waved to Fremna, and we headed off through the stand of trees. The golden-haired siren guided me up two flights of broad garden steps of red marble. Cresting a hill, we found ourselves at the top of another, but smaller natural ampitheatre: a bowl some 40 paces across. Three sides of the bowl consisted of sloping turf interspersed with grassy terraces. The fourth side - the "front" - held four tiers of burnished aar wood, with the upmost level making up a small stage of sorts. There, a quartet of musicians played a throbbing, drum driven music, topped by groin piercing flute music. On a platform on the grassy slope opposite the stage was a large tent. At the bottom of the bowl lay a rectangular, stone-sided pool, some eight paces by six paces across. My attention was not, however, drawn to the physical setting. Rather, I stared at the activity of the thirty or so noblemen and perhaps forty servant wenches. Each young girl - beauties all - wore a sheer, short robe, with their breasts and dark pubic hair visible through the nearly transparent fabric. One or two attended to each man, serving him fruits or wines, caressing his neck or back, or teasing him with nibbles or kisses about the face and neck. I turned to Charel, who fingered the neck of her heavier saffron robe. "By your leave, Milord?" She wished to remove the garment worn in more public circumstances. I nodded. She took my hand and drew it to the loose knot at her neck that held it together. I untied it and slowly drew it down her front, exposing the gossamer fabric underneath. My hand stopped at her pert breast, brushing the tip with my thumb through its thin veil. I then dropped to one knee and pulled the outer garment over her hips. The thin dress underneath was almost as nothing, and I couldfeel the warmth of her slim thighs beneath my palms and see the blonde downy vee underneath the hem. She raised one leg to step out of the long robe, exposing to my eyes her succulent young sex and trimmed bush. I impetuously dipped my head under the hem of her skirt and planted a wet kiss at the apex of her slit. Her loins involuntarily pressed against me. My tongue lapped atthe moistening lips and rapidly swelling bud. She sighed in a near chortle, and her palms pressed my face further into her. Through passionate gasps she protested, "But Milord, I am here to serve you!" I silenced her by renewing my attack until she shuddered to a quiet orgasm, her fingers grasping my scalp in paroxysms of ecstacy. I stood, and she passionately kissed me. "Milord Jaze. That was wonderful. The nobles never... you know, lick me.... I will insure that you are served particularly well tonight. But first, you should wash a bit after your workout earlier." With that she led me town the near slope to the water. We stepped over one trio prone on the grass - the drunken duke who had presided over the wrestling matches and identical twin lovelies, ample breasted sloe-eyed brunettes. Their dresses were bunched around their hips, and they were peppering the torso of the nude duke with open-mouthed kisses. One twin fondled his large, semi-erect prick, poking the sopping gash of her sister, who was straddling the man's thigh. My own organ was nearly stiff in excitement as well. Charel stopped us at the water's edge. Perhaps ten royals were cavorting with half again as many maids in waist deep water. Only a scrap of clothing remained on any one of them. Fresh-faced young girls stroked the men they were tending. Hands churned just beneath water level, with a teenaged count in mutual masturbation with curly-haired vixen. A plumper, dusky-skinned nubian was bent over the edge of the pool, being entered from behind by a middle-aged viceroy. Charel turned and unfastened my blouse, then dropped to her knees and undid my breeches. She quickly dropped them to my ankles, then looked up to see my fully erect cock waving in her face. Attempting to re-establish the composure expected of servants, she stifled a gasp of surprise at my size, but her grin could not fully be surpressed. Another, shorter goddess with straight black hair and a wide, red-lipped mouth appeared besides us, and Charel handed her my garments. She left to store them at a small shack to the side, my eyes following the bewitching twitch of her taut ass and the sleekness of her magnificent legs as she departed. Charel playfully nipped at the tip of my organ with her even white teeth. "Milord, some say it is rude to stare at another woman when one has one at hand, and perhaps it is not so wise when one's manliness is close to her mouth." She grinned playfully, and then wetly kissed my tip again in recompense. "I apologize, Miss. Her beauty reminds me of your own, which far surpasses any other." Charel jumped to her feet. "Well, some say my cousin Licia and I do remind them of one other, but you are wise to detect which of us is the prettier." I found myself becoming enchanted with this searingly intelligent lady, and wondered if she realized that my own background was, if anything, more humble than her own. She cut short my thoughts by leading me down a steps into the pool, still wearing her short toga. The clear water somehow had been warmed and carried a mildly floral aroma, and felt gloriously sensual. A very young-appearing, almost breastless young sprite spun away from a hairy drunk as I entered, and in her escape charged into me, my arms instinctively going around her waist. She felt my cock prod at her flat belly and grinned, obviously a bit drunk herself. "Hello, Big Guy! Where do I find you later?" Her arms snaked around my neck and she kissed mepassionately, her young tongue slipping into my surprised mouth. I returned the kiss, mindful of Charel's impatient gaze behind me. The hairy man staggered up and pried her away from, giving me an almost apologetic look. I grinned back. She leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding down his torso until she obviously felt his organ prod at her opening. She bounced a few times, frustration growing on her face as he apparently was unable to penetrate her child-like pussy. With an exasperated frown, Charel reached over to a small indentation in the deck-beside the pool and pulled out a small glob of jelly of a sort. She strode to the unsuccessfully coupling pair and reached under the girl's buttocks, greasing her opening and her partner's cock. The girl slid down again and, aided by both the lubricant and Charel's guiding hand, signaled his entry by a grinning moan of pleasure. "Oh, Uncle Robdolus, that's just wonderful!," she cried. Uncle? Oh Lord, what strange values these nobles have, I thought. Charel laughed at my shocked face and guided me to the side of the pool, where the water came to just below the level of my still jutting rod. Her cousin Licia returned with a flagon of wine, and knelt to serve it to me; as I took it I could see through the gaping opening of her blouse two perfectly shaped, gravity defying breasts. Rather than slap me for my impudence, Licia remained where she was, then slowly drew one side of the loose top further to the side, further exposing her right tit. tit, with its bright red areole and perky nipple. I took a gulp of the proffered wine, barely noticing that its quality far exceeded the sacramental wine to which my experience was limited. I then leaned forward, as though drawn by magnetism, and my lips captured the wonderful nipple, nibbling and then suckling as though I were an infant. I felt Charel press against my other side. She reached around me into another bowl-shaped indentation in the decking and retrieved a soapcake. As my mouth captured more of Licia's soft breast, I dimly noted Charel's rubbing of the soap into a heavy lather, then felt her silky hands rub the foam over my chest and down my stomach. I drew my mouth away from Licia's chest. She mewled and pouted in protest. I clutched her under each arm and swung her off the deck into the water with us. Licia shrieked in mock terror, but did not further protest when I drew the short robe off her body, opening to my eyes her slim but voluptuous body. "Now help your cousin," I said. Licia's eyebrows rose; apparently she and Charel did not normally apprise others of their kinship. Still, without protest she slipped behind the golden-maned, taller girl, and drew her own robe away. Charel did not pause in her vigorous scrubbing of my torso, and now handed part of the cake to Licia. The two started soaping me further down, rubbing my asscheeks - occasionally tweaking my rectum, legs, and tightening balls - but only lightly brushing my throbbing erection. I leaned against the pool edge, savoring the pampering and enjoying the sights around me. Two older nobles leaned against the edge as did, I only two or three paces away. I overheard them debate the pre-eminence of their respective race horses. They seemed to be paying little heed to the two busty young women kneeling before them and deliberately taking the men's cocks deep into their slender throats, holding them captive for four or five seconds before releasing them to the warm summer air, then repeating the seemingly impossible swallowing of the men's organs. Up on the small stage to my left, a slender, ebony-haired vixen wearing only a gold scarf around her hips was performing a frenetic dance in time to the rhythmic music. Her wavy curls descended to the base of her spine, but in her gyrations the dark cascades swept around her shoulders and over her full breasts. Her hands entwined in her hair and then dropped to caress the swaying mounds. One hand dipped to slide beneath her scarf, and two of her long fingers caressed the length of her nether lips. Just then I noticed a blonde maidservant enter the water carrying a small tray, on which she held a small but intricate water pipe. She wore only a series of twenty or so silver chains that draped her middle from hip to hip. Her hair was pulled back into a single long yellow braid that fell to her waist, its tip tickling the water's surface. She stepped up to the two nobles beside me, and each drew deeply from the pipe's curling stem. Even the two big-titted fellatrixes paused in their oral ministrations to suck from the pipe, allowing the stiff cocks in their charge to bob between their large breasts. Almost immediately upon inhaling, each of the quartet grinned in heavy-lidded enjoyment. The nobles stopped their chattering and for the first time seemed to concentrate on the maids sucking at their lances. The blonde then stepped up to us, a sweet, slightly glassy-eyed smile on her face. "Good evening, Milord," she said in a foreign-tinged accent, gesturing with the long stem. "Would you care to partake?" I shrugged, "I'm really not a smoker, but..." Charel and Licia giggled. Charel elbowed me in the ribs, "Milord, you will find this to be a bit more interesting than anything you've tried before. But if you're not accustomed to any smoke, perhaps Jenfeer here can help you out." I shrugged again in naive passiveness. The blonde, Jenfeer, placed the tip of the curved wooden stem in between her rose-petal lips and sucked in. She pulled the pipe away and leaned up toward me, pulling my lips to hers. As they met, she opened her mouth and blew the smoke into my mouth, keeping a tight seal with our lips. Our tongues mingled for a moment, then she suddenly grasped mycock with a warm hand and squeezed it firmly. I inhaled in surprise, and pulled the slightly-cooled smoke into my lungs. After a moment, she disengaged, then coyly looked up at me. "Oh, did we tell you that the most important part is to inhale?" Charel and Licia giggled, and then each took her own turn at the pipe. I found myself enraptured at the sight of their pursed lips caressing the stem tip, and then I realized that the tobacco in the bowl indeed had intoxicated me in a way that wine never had. I felt my skin flush and a tinling sense of energy infuse my spine, centering in my groin. I felt both in a fog, and as alert and energetic as I ever had in my life. It felt magnificent, otherwordly. By then, both Charel and Licia had taken on the same stuporous look as the nobles, as I suspected I had. My hands cupped the buttocks of each of the two maidservants attending me, and my middle fingers slid down their clefts and into their flowing pussies, and I knew amidst the drug-enhanced fever that within seconds I would be thrusting my rock hard sword deep into one or the other. SOLSTICE CASTLE PART VI Blonde Charel flexed her knees and forced my exploring digit further inside her. Licia bent forward slightly with her slim ass resting against the pool's edge, her dark hair covering her features, and reached down between her thighs to rub at her throbbing clit in concert with my probing hand. Charel leaned over and pressed her lips to mine. Her mouth opened and her tongue tipped at my own, and then she pursed her lips and sucked vigorously at my tongue, as though she wanted to draw it out by the roots. An exclamation from the shorter of the two nobles next to us drew our attention. The young woman kneeling in front of him in the hip-deep pool had speeded the pace of her vigorous sucking, accompanied by the steady pumping of her hand. Her ample tits swung wildly as she drew at his stalk. Her mouth pulled back to the tip and her tongue quickly laved at the end, and then she threw her face forward, with an audible gulp as that same tip reached her throat. The noble's gasp signaled his finish, and the honey-tressed beauty ceased her sucking, continuing only her hand's pulling on the base. She rested the end of the cock on her upper lip and opened her mouth slightly. Her blue eyes gazed up at the man to whom she was ministering, twinkling with anticipation. She barely flinched as his semen jetted out in an incredible spurt, a torrent shooting across her young tongue to the back of her throat. Charel giggled in astonishment as another, equally immense blast emitted from the tip and struck the roof of her mouth. Just after the the third jet struck her lower lip and chin, the girl clamped her lips together to prevent that which she'd taken in from escaping her mouth, allowing successive spurts to strike her smiling, closed lips, chin and neck. The sticky emission dripped down her neck and rested on her massive mounds. The neighboring noble, entranced at the erotic sight of the decoration of the face and lips of the girl, then reached his own explosion in the mouth of the darker-haired woman who was servicing him. We were denied a view of his ejaculation, as the girl clamped her lips around the man's shaft about a third of the way down. Even so, she announced his climax with a series of gleeful moans coinciding with each spurt, and her bloating cheeks indicated the massiveness of the man's spill. Finally, the torrent became too great, and rivers of semen escaped the corners of her mouth and streamed down her cheeks and onto her shoulders and full white breasts. Next to me, Licia shrieked out her own completion, brought on by her vigorous self-rubbing and my fingers' stroking into her channel. I kept up a gentle pace to allow her to finish. As her spasms subsided, she looked over at us guiltily, as though embarrassed at her selfishness. "I could not help myself, Milord, it just arouses me so to see a man spend so in the mouth of a maid. Perhaps it is why I love the smoke of the priests, as it both increases the amount of the spending, and enhances its taste." Charel stepped around me - or at least almost, as my rigid lance brushed against her hip as she did, inducing her pleased yelp. She put her arm around the waist of her younger, shorter cousin and cupped the girl's perfectly shaped breast. "Yes, dear Licia, you have been thoughtless, and perhaps we shall make you pay. Since I have been deprived of my own joy, I will be the one to enjoy our lord Jaze's magnificent offering." Charel spun around and pulled herself up out of the pool, standing briefly with her back to me, taunting me with her splendid, heart-shaped young buttocks. She then dropped to her knees on the soft mossy grass next to the pool, still with her back to me. I was entranced at the magical shape of her form. Licia lithely pulled herself out of the water and reached down for my hand, helping me leap up to the pool's edge, a task that of course would have given me no trouble but for the long, incredibly hard pole jutting from my loins which threatened to strike the lop of the stone edge. With a mock pout, Licia wrapped her slender arms around my necked and kissed me. "Alright, you may make nasty, pagan love to that blonde cow, if you wish. I would join you and perhaps enhance your enjoyment, if that is your pleasure milord." She wriggled her hips, causing my erect cock to rub against her flat stomach. I glanced over at Charel, who peeked over her shoulder at me, her drug-addled passion still evident in her glazed eyes. "I would welcome her, lord, and anyone else who wishes to join us - but please make it soon!" she pleaded. She leaned back onto her elbows, and then turned away from me to lie on her left side. She raised her right knee, leaving her right foot resting on the ground, and smiled at me coquettishly over her shoulder. Needing no other hint, I slid my groin up behind her ass, and she reached down between her widespread thighs to clutch my sex just behind the reddened tip. Her fingers guided me to her moist opening, placing the tip just inside. I reached around her hip with my hand and spread her lower lips, and I pushed myself forward, into her. Her heated wetness burned at me wonderfully, and I could not resist wrenching forward harder, to place myself entirely within her. With the beauty of the two nymphs and the aphrodisiac of the ritual herbs whose smoke I'd inhaled, I could not control my lusts. Her mouth opened and emitted a pleased sigh as I entered her fully. Her head fell to rest on her left forearm, as I withdrew momentarily. Then, I began the pulsing rhthym, stroking my hardness in and out of her in a steady pace. My finger remained at her pussy, as the tips of my ring and middle finger trapped the hood of her lust hardened bud, and slowly brushed the fold of flesh over her clit in a circular motion. I sensed, rather than heard, Licia drop beside us, and then saw her lay supine next to us in front of Charel, her dark hair resting on the ground in front of Charel's loins. With her ass resting on the ground and feet slightly spread, Licia twisted her upper torso to the side and ducked her head into the luscious wetness where Charel and I were joined. Licia's fingers guided mine in their rubbing of Charel's pussy for a moment, and then I felt Licia's chin bump into the back of my hand. I rose up and, as Charel groaned, I looked down her torso. Licia's pink tongue had emerged and was stroking the top of her blonde cousin's slick furrow just above where my hard rod was thrusting to and fro. Suddenly, I too felt that magical tongue, which swept down the length of Charel's slit and onto my red, cunt-moistened shaft. She drew it along the length of my cock with long, greedy sweeps, finishing by tickling my lust tightened scrotum with the tip of the appendage. She traced the shape of the testicles inside, then Licia's sweet mouth took one sensitive orb into her mouth, softly suckling at it. With a moan, she drew the sack in more forcefully, and I realized that Charel was attending to Licia's passions as well. While I was fucking her with long strokes, Charel had leaned forward, resting her weight on one elbow, and she dove her face into Licia's spread loins, running her own tongue through the dark down of her cousin's bush and sucking at the girl's clit. Licia's taut ass, flattened on the soft grass, writhed and jerked at the attention. With my height advantage, I realized that I could move my head past Charel's shoulder and underneath Licia's trembling thigh, and thereby minister to Charel's flowering pussy as well. My lips met Charel's, which were descending from above, and together we sucked and laved at the fleshy lips and hardened bud. I nibbled at Licia's swollen nether lips, and then pointed my tongue inside her succulent young pussy, pushing my head forward. Our efforts were greeted by a muffled grunt at my loins, and I feared for a moment that her teeth might clamp down on my most sensitive parts. Fortunately, Licia allowed my treasures to fall from her lips and she began to mouth my shaft and commence her own licking and sucking on the cock-filled pussy of her cousin. Charel's hips began jerking, churning, forcing her pussy down onto my large, steel-like rod, then up to my pressing fingers. I increased my rhthym and the pressure on her clit as I sensed she would not last long. A sibilant "Yesssss!" escaped her lips, then repeated itself in time to my charging hips. Her eyes clenched shut and her fingers clutched Licia's thighs as we came closer to our finish. I watched as Charel's angelic face tensed in a rictus of ecstacy, and then her breathing changed to quick shallow pants. Her wet, caressing tunnel constricted in pulsating contractions, and I knew that she had reached her climax. I let myself go too, and with an audible groan released my seed into her, feeling her ankles lock around my right thigh, keeping my loins pressed to hers as we savored our joint explosions. My semen shot in throbbing, draining sheets into Charel's tight channel, quickly spurting out the sides of my shaft and onto Licia's waiting tongue. I could feel her pursed lips suck in the fluid, and then felt Licia's own pussy flow and throb with her climax, punctuated by her liquid, panting, "Oh yes; oh yes" emanating from between my legs. Charel did not falter in the tonguing of Licia's electrically charged young clit. Our noisy, hip-churning orgasms continued for a seeming eternity, our mouths insatiable in the immersion at the fluids we spent in our ecstatic passions. Both of my partners gasped for air, interspersed with shrill calls of pleasure. My own flow seemed to take forever to abate, and I could feel the moisture of my seed on Licia's chin and lips as she continued to nurse at Charel's overflowing pussy. Drained beyond that of any memory, I slowly rolled onto my back, remaining locked to Charel's blonde-fringed pussy with my still twitching cock. Licia slowly raised herself up and then threw herself lengthwise atop Charel's damp form, their taut young breasts mashing into one another. I could now see the stickiness of the juices of Charel and my combined passions affixed to Licia's lips, which now descended to press at her blonde cousin's mouth. Charel's tongue greedily emerged to lap at the wetness, savoring the sexual tang. Licia's thighs had slid between Charel's slightly widespread limbs, and I could feel the two maids' lust- engorged pussies press against one another. Clearly, they were not yet done. I, however, felt that I would never have the strength to again engage in an act of passion, so enervating was my own incredible explosion. I gently rolled onto my side, and disengaged myself from their embrace. I sat up and looked down lovingly at these two young serving girls, knowing that I had enjoyed an experience of which most men could barely even dream. As though reading my thoughts, they simultaneously turned their lust smeared faces up to me and grinned appreciatively. They then closed their eyes, and I could see that they would be asleep in moments in one anothers' arms - whether from the afterglow of their climaxes or the consequence of the wine and smoke I could not say. I trudged down to the pool and hopped in to clean the sweat and juices of my maids from me. The young nymphet who had greeted me earlier again was coupling with her uncle, only now she was bent over the edge of the pool, taking his long, slim organ in her tight young ass, a practice with which I had little experience. The heavy-breasted, sweet-faced blonde who had a short while earlier in the pool received the seed of the nobleman on her soft lips and cheeks now greeted me with soap, and gently washed me. The softness of her hands again drew a stiffness into my loins which I thought I never again would see, and she looked at me with eyes that both offered and promised much. At that moment, I saw a flash of dark green over her shoulder, and I saw a hooded figure step away from the far edge of the amphitheatre and into a patch of trees, out of my sight. My drug-fogged brain started, as I recalled my purpose - well, at least my original purpose - in coming to the festival's party up here for the nobles. I was to try to find the person in the green cloak who had struck the Prime Minister and had taken the royal gemstones. I palmed the lovely cheek of the blonde and cupped one of her astounding, overflowing breasts. I assured her of her allure but explained that another call of nature demanded my attention first, but that I would return later to join her. She good-naturedly sighed and toweled me dry, and then assisted me in putting my trousers back on. I kissed her soundly, and then headed around the pool to follow the mysterious green-cloaked assailant.... SOLSTICE CASTLE PART VII (In which our hero, teenaged orphan Jaze, seeking to find the mysterious green-cloaked stranger who clubbed the Prime Minister and stole some of the magical royal gemstones, finds himself a guest at a royal debauch, having just enjoyed the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and gone down to the the castle pool to cleanse himself, where he spots the assailant.) I palmed the lovely cheek of the blonde maid and cupped one of her astounding, overflowing breasts. I assured her of her allure but explained that another call of nature demanded my attention first, but that I would return later to join her. She good-naturedly sighed and toweled me dry, and then assisted me in putting my trousers back on. I kissed her soundly, and then headed around the pool to follow the mysterious green-cloaked assailant.... [End of Part VI] After slipping away from the scene of drug and wine-enhanced debauch around the pool, I climbed to the top of the natural ampitheatre and entered the forested area, where sweet smelling eucalyptus and coastal pines dotted the otherwise mossy area. A sturdy fence a head taller than my own height ran along my left, with the stand of trees to my left. After stealthily proceeding some forty paces, I heard voices and stopped behind a eucalyptus, my hands resting on the peeling bark. Peeking around it, I saw not one but two figures in green cloaks, standing in a quiet huddle, conversing. Their hoods remained over their heads, and I could not make out their faces. They were but seven or eight paces from me, but their voices were low and I could make out only snatches of their conversation, and their deep voices were similar enough that I could not even detect which of the two was speaking at any given moment. Still, there was no disputing the conspiratorial tone of their meeting. Bits of sentences reached me: "King must not find out.... a few more of the jewels, with the power to help us trace the remainder of the set... old gypsy who disclosed the ancient magic ... will not tell her tale to anyone else ... that damn girl who intruded on us thankfully is a mute ... think someone else may have seen ... Here is your pay, but will expect more." At those last words, the arms of the two men came together, as they obviously were passing some coins for a task committed by one of them. I realized that the meeting was breaking up and that, if either man returned back down the path, I most certainly would be seen. I backed away from the tree quietly and headed back toward the pool area, but quickly stopped. At the head of the path stood two fearsome guards. I quickly realized that my tenuous role as guest of Phenshraw, the Prince, did not extend to snooping around in what was obviously the royal family's private arbor, and I likely would be banished from the castle if I was spotted there. Given little choice, I grabbed the top of the fence and vaulted over, landing atop a scratchy juniper, which clawed at my bare chest. I heard the rustling of a cloak back on the other side of the fence as its owner rushed by. I scrambled forward and pressed my eye up against a gap between two slats in the fence. All I could see was the back of one of the retreating figures as he confidently strode back to the party, his arms swinging wide. My eye caught a red glint on his left hand from reflected light of a torch next to one of the soldiers. The man obviously had a great ruby ring on that hand. One of the soldiers saluted him as he passed by. Crouched there behind the juniper, I tried to put the new information in order in my mind. Clearly this man with the ruby ring was plotting against the King, and the jewels which he had tried to steal from the Prime Minister lay at the center of the scheme. Some gypsy had told him of their magical powers and now her safety was at risk. If I could get this information to Queen Serjeena, she could certainly identify a man who possessed such authority and access and who bore a large ruby ring. She could order the man arrested, and I'd be a hero. And... I realized that then I might well claim the reward of her own flesh that the lovely, dark-haired queen had offered. I began to look for a place to re-scale the fence to return to the nobles-only party which I had recently left. On this side of the fence, the landscaping consisted of rolling green hillocks dotted with oaks and more eucalyptus, sloping gradually away from me. This area was bordered by the fence, which itself was lined with exotic bushes and purple and blue flowers. Torches were dotted about, every ten yards or so. Some forty yards beyond, I could see a path that returned to the Castle, and I somehow sensed that this was a private garden intended for the royal family alone. I walked along the fence away from the direction of the party to make sure that I would be out of sight of the guards on the other side when I leapt over. Just as I reached up to begin my vault, I detected voices back behind me. I quickly dropped to a crouch behind a bush and looked over the top of the hillock behind it. Through the filtered view of the bushes, I could see three female figures sitting about at the bottom of a ring of grassy hillock. I dared to raise my head further. Facing me were Lorena and Rebca, with a red- haired figure facing away from me. I realized that they were sitting with their legs tucked underneath then at the edge of a small pond. Girlish giggles came from their huddled heads. The women were wearing sheer gowns not unlike those that Charel and Licia were wearing back at the pond - or at least had been wearing until I had persuaded the two vixens to remove them. Lorena's mouth opened in breathy excitement. "Have you ever seen such goings on?" she exclaimed. "I thought I'd go up in flames when I saw all those huge cocks pumping away." Rebca covered her mouth in mock shock in reaction to the statuesques blonde's use of the vulgar term for a man's most treasured member. Lorena continued, "I hope your father never discovers that one can see part of the pool area from that spot on your balcony." The red-haired woman threw her head back in laughter, exposing her face for the first time. I sat stunned. It was Princess Paleem! She was unveiled, unshrouded and - if you take into account the silhouettes 'neath her almost sheer gown as highlighted by the flickering torches behind her - almost unclothed. Oh gentle reader. How can I convey to you the sight of one so fair? My mind gave little heed to the deadly risk that I should surely be sliced from throat to crotch in an instant should one of the King's guard espy me peeping at the princess while in such a state. I could only sit and gape, knowing that I was watching what surely was a beauty beyond any seen elsewhere in the land. Her reddish hair flowed softly round her oval face and lit gently upon soft white shoulders. Her hazel eyes flashed with intelligence and impish curiosity. A small, almost button nose and her red bow of a mouth completed the picture that had me transfixed. In my thrall, I barely even noticed the treasures of her slim, but still buxom form. Her laugh and her voice - how can I describe those. Soft, almost childlike, but bursting with wonder and perceptiveness. She laughed again and trilled, "But Lorena, when I am to be with a man, it will be gloriously romantic. I do not wish to be with some Duke's greasy son whom father forces me to have as a husband, who will take me like he's taken the kitchen serving wenches while out on cavalry maneuvers. I want a man of sensitivity, who will treat my fantasies and desires as a canvas on which to paint a masterpiece." Lorena leaned forward in a fit of giggles, and even Rebca laughed silently into her hand. "Oh, milady," Lorena said in mock disappointment. "How could you possibly imagine that a man of such artistry - and patience - walks the soil of our land? Men are rude and rutting monsters who will take what they feel they are entitled to at the first opportunity ....." Lorena paused and looked at Rebca - "and thank the Lord for that!" The two resumed their giggling, while Paleem blushed. "Oh Lorena, you randy slut!" Paleem continued in mock disapproval. My organ, already stiffening at the sight of these three visions in their translucent gowns, grew to greater prominence at the sound of a princess and that perfect mouth using such language. "There are other men than those you drag into your bed at swordpoint. I can see him now, young and slim, with small hips and broad shoulders. His hair just a little longer than current fashion dictates." I squirmed - such a description matched my own! Paleem continued, "He will come to me and gently lay me on a thick feather mattress...." With that, the Princess leaned back against a grassy hillock, her arms stretched above her head. For the first time I fully noticed her magnificent breasts beneath the gauzy fabric, jutting straight to the stars in taut, rounded fullness. Her eyes closed as she went on with her tableau in dreamy fashion. "He will come to me softly, and I will beckon him to me..." Paleem extended an arm and grasped that of Rebca, curled on the far side of her. Rebca giggled and played along, scooting over to sit alongside her mistress. "And then he will run his knowing but unhurried hands over my face and neck..." Rebca picked up the cue, and did so with rapt attention to Paleema's mezmerizig words. "And along the curves of my body and down to my hips..." Again, Rebca with but momentary hesitation complied, placing a small hand on Paleem's shoulder, and then rubbing it over the tops and sides of the woman's breast, just bypassing her obviously erect nipple. The dark-haired young maid then traced Paleem's torso in a teasing path to her hipbone, then stroked horizontally across her thighs. Paleem smiled and moaned, then raised and slightly parted her thighs, allowing the hem of the gown to ride down to mid thigh. "Yes," she went on, "his hands will caress my knee and inner thigh, and I will know that my time has come to be not just a daughter or a princess - but a woman." Paleem raised one thigh and grasped Rebca's arm, firmly yanking the girl atop her own sprawled form. Paleema reached behind Rebca's back and flipped the maid's skirt to her waist, exposing those marvelous slim ass cheeks which I had savored the previous night. My mind raced. If Rebca wore no undergarment then perhaps Paleem too did not, and their bared loins must therefore be touching! From my vantage point, the hem of Paleem'a white gown still obscured her groin, and I thus could only speculate. Rebca braced herself on extended arms and began churning her loins in imitation of the act of love between man and woman, and neither of the two lovelies seemed to regret the substitution, as their faces were contorted in passion. Their mock sexual act took on a legitimacy of its own, as the two beauties' mounds ground together, and I could sense that this might be the first time that the Princess would react that ultimate explosion of fire at her center. Lorena sat in stunned arousal. I could see her long-fingered hand slide down her own voluptuous body to descend under the hem of her robe to press against her inflamed pussy. In my own aroused state, I was about to reach down and offer relief to my own now straining organ when I felt a talented hand press up against it. I whirled around and found myself staring into the face of Serjeen - my Queen and the mother of Paleem, the object of my voyeurism! Serjeen quietly beckoned me away from the bush. I reluctantly followed, unable to resist casting a final glance back at the erotic scene, where I saw that Paleema's head was rhythmically rocking back and forth in growing excitement, her magnificent scarlet locks sweeping across her features. Rebca continued pressing her own sweet pussy against the of the princess, and her perfectly chiseled features were aglow in her own sexual excitement. The raven-tressed queen, who now was attired in dark but simple evening dress, led me down along the fence back in the direction of the party, until we were out of both eyesight and vision of the salacious trio of girls. She turned and faced me with a wry smile. "When I asked you to keep an eye out for me, I did not expect that you would find it within your duties to peek at my daughter and her ladies-in-waiting, young Jaze. You must allow a young woman some privacy, particularly when she is discovering her own sexuality among her intimates." Obviously, Serjeen was not at all concernced that her teenage daughter was exploring such sexuality with the aid of another young girl. I blushed and stammered that I was merely trying to escape from the malefactor that she had sent me to find. I proudly told her of the conversation between the two cloaked men and the identifying ruby ring worn by the apparent ring leader. She did not seem particularly relieved, as she said, "That's all well and good, but unfortunately such a ring is worn by most members of the Drofnast clan from the southlands. Still, it is good to now, as it limits the number of suspects and tells us that perhaps that clan is undertaking a conspiracy to take over the throne by the use of the jewels. The Drofnasts are such a tightnit clan that it is possible that, with such powers, they could muster the forces to do so." Serjeena smiled fondly and brushed a stry lock of hair from my eyes. "You have done well, my handsome stripling, and fully deserving of the rewards promised you." My trousers tented at the implied promise. "But," she continued, "now is not the time, as much as I too might wish it. You must return to the party and continue to make...." - she searched for a word and then grinned - "connections with those who might help you. I will speak to my husband and we will determine how to proceed further. We are in your debt, young Jaze." Her cool, dark eyes scanned mine, and she cupped my cheek with her hand. Serjeen leaned forward and pressed her lips against my own, parting them slightly. With modest but increasing urgency, my Queen's tongue slid forward between our parted lips and danced with my tongue, skillfully gliding to and fro. She clearly wished to impart to me the promise of what ministrations such a tongue could deliver to my fondest appendage, which in response threatended to burst from my trousers. Serjeen finally broke our kiss and slid away. I could only lean against the fence in enervated wonder. With an effort, I revaulted the fence, slipped past a guard attempting to peek over the lip of the ampitheatre to see the lascivious revels continuing below, and returned to the party. As I returned to the scene, I noticed that the sexual frenzy had not abated, no doubt due in part to the effect of the aphrodisiac herbs which nearly all had ingested. Partners had changed, but the nature of the activity had not. My blonde "attendant" Charel lay prone on the grass in apparent sleep, but her brunette cousin Licia was fully awake and lying on her back perpendicular to Charel, her head pillowed on Charel's firm young ass. Licia's knees were up and widespread, and the noble who I earlier had seen in the pool enjoying the oral attentions of the buxom blonde I had spoken to a few minutes ago now was driving his long staff into Licia's tight young quim. At that moment, the rousing frenzied music slowed and then ended, with the dark-curled dancer who was swaying in front of the band slumping to her knees. Few of the revelers took notice of the change, so caught up were they in their lustful activities. I took my eyes from the stage and circled around toward the back of the grassy ampitheatre, hoping to find another willing beauty who might wish to share in the stiffness that my observation of Paleem and Rebca had brought on. In doing so, I failed to notice the tall slim blind-folded woman with a long linen sack move to the stage.... -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |