Message-ID: <6398eli$9802251447@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: apuleius@poboxes.com (Apuleius of Madaura) Subject: RP: Solstice Castle by Trane Ch. 8-14 (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: <34f37386.3979843@news.labyrinth.net.au> SOLSTICE CASTLE PART VIII (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 enjoyed the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and peering at Princess Paleem while trying to avoid the mysterious assailant, Jaze now stumbles upon an old acquaintance.) [...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....] [End of Part VII] -------------------- My eyes made contact with those of Jenfeer, the stunning, high-breasted young woman with the long, blond braid who had introduced me to the smoking of the ritual aphrodisiac herbs. The fair creature was now seated at the edge of the pool, still clad only in the string of thin chains that cascaded across her hips. Her long legs were stretched in front of her to allow her feet to dangle in the warm water, and I now marveled at their absolutely perfect shape. She glanced at me and rolled onto her side, braced on one elbow, and she raised her topmost knee, exposing her inner flesh to me. Her broad smile to me completed the unambiguous invitation. Two high-pitched blasts from the grassy "stage" drew my glance, as well as at least a quick glance from others who were not too deeply engaged in their lustful couplings. Phenshraw himself stepped forward and I noticed for the first time the woman with the blindfold standing quietly to his right. Could that be .... ???!! "My dear friends," the Prince intoned jovially, "we have a treat tonight beyond all expectations. We have after no little pleading from my family been able to persuade the Goddess of Music herself to join in our celebration of the Solstice here in our summer home and her adopted town of Speysard. She of course must wear one of our finest silken scarves to protect her eyes from the glare of the torches" - with that the crowd of nobles laughed - "oh, and perhaps some of you are not sufficiently attired that it would be proper for such an honored lady to be assaulted by the visage of your flabby, white .... uh, rear ends." The laughter grew. "Please enjoy the offerings from our most honored guest, Madame Jeara!" My jaw dropped to my chest. Madame Jeara! The most famous floutist in all the land, a reclusive woman whose gifts with the flute could bring armies to tears and priests to the point of savagery. Beyond that, she was my own flute instructor. And, yes, she was my lover, a relationship borne of my adolescent innocence and her pain at the loss of her husband, whose death in the wars in the East had sent her into refuge at Speysard. Her earnings had permitted her to acquire and live at a home out on the cliffs, where she spent her days playing dirgelike paens to her lost husband, but would play no further performances. When Madame Jeara's friends had implored her to work through her grief by resuming some contact with the world, she compromised by agreeing to give flute lessons to the two best of the flute students in the local schools. With all modesty, I must concede that I had shown considerable aptitude for the flute, and few boys could challenge my skills as music was not considered to be the most masculine of pursuits by most young men. When I arrived for my first lesson with my slender, bookish classmate Linna, I was surprised to discover that the legendary figure was not a middle-aged matron, but a tall, grey-eyed woman in her late twenties, with long, straight hair with naturally alternating streaks of ash blonde and light brown. Jeara (as she insisted we call her) carried herself with quiet solemnitude, and Linna and I at first felt reluctant to continue with the lessons, feeling that they were little more than the product of Jeara's sense of obligation to carry out the wishes of her concerned friends. The two of us practiced madly between lessons in order to please her, much to the dismay of Brother Bartone, whose cell at the monastery was above my quarters. After a few weeks, Jeara's attitudes toward Linna and me began to warm, as she discovered, as do many, that in teaching one must articulate the basis of one's craft and can often enhance one's own skills in that discipline. Between us, Linna and I had plotted to further bring Jeara out of her melancholy. Beyond our efforts to please her by constant practice, my brown-haired classmate and I would compose silly parodies of popular tunes, taking off wildly in flights of whimsy, while showing sufficient respect for each melody's structure to demonstrate some virtuosity. From these rehearsals, a warm, platonic friendship developed between Linna and I, and I looked forward to our practice sessions and the opportunity to make her freckled nose crinkle in mock disgust at my sometimes crude attempts at composition. Linna clearly was the far more accomplished musician and envisioned herself a professional musician in a few years. Although from her shyness she was considered by our classmates to be aloof, she was bright beyond measure. Linna was fully aware what an extraordinary gift had been handed to her in the lessons from Jeara, who she worshipped to the point of emulating her clothing style. I thought back to that magical, warm afternoon only a few months earlier where so much changed among the three of us. I had completed my chores at the monastery early and scampered up the dusty road to Jeara's cliffside home to arrive early, in the hope that she might assist me in some of the more difficult passages she had taught us so that I might catch up to Linna's skills. My light knock on Jeara's door went unanswered, but I could hear her flute wafting from beyond the thin wood. I slipped inside and headed through her main parlor to her back deck overlooking the open sea. The back door was pushed open to permit the breeze to cool the home, and through it I could see Jeara seated and leaning against a balustrade, her eyes closed, and her flute in hand. She was playing a melody the beauty of which my simple talents cannot begin to describe. Her improvised melody captured the breeze, and the sea - and her loneliness at the loss of someone dear. The dirge shifted into almost a military cadence, evoking images of her lost husband. One could almost see him in his uniform, tall and commanding. The melody then softened, grew more intimate, as the man came to her - yes, there was a melody by which she described herself: sure and gifted, but still open and submissive. The two of them jousted playfully, then more seriously. The pitch then lowered in pitch and volume, and my own loins stirred with the aural image of the soldier stroking the bare flesh of his lover, Jeara. Sadly, the music started to fade, as though the two years since his death had started to unravel the fabric of her memory of him. I saw a tear of frustration bead at the corner of one of her closed eyes. I do not know what possessed me at my moment, but I somehow decided to pull my own flute from my belt and respond with a simple melody of my own, crafted on the spot. I tried to mimic her own smoky capture of the soldier's strength and grace, but unsurprisingly re-made him into an earnest but somewhat gawky young footsoldier. Upon hearing my notes in my characteristic style, Jeara merely smiled wryly, and let her instrument fall from her lips. As my own playing began to flag in embarassment, her eyes opened and looked warmly toward mine, encouraging me to continue. She recognized that however limited might be my skills, I was truly beginning to feel the beckonings of the muse, and the powers of the music to capture and explore human emotions. With her eyes, Jeara beckoned me to recline behind her, while continuing my playing. As I lay back, she rested her head on my shoulder and joined in my tune. With her wonderful tone, she guided me further into our tale, reassuring the young footsoldier to not be shy with the older widow. She replayed the sensual tone that had drawn me outside, and I nearly recoiled in shock at the intimacies suggested by the melody line. I suddently became aware that the softness of her slim flank was resting against my hip, and that the fragrance of her long, silken tresses gathered at the swell of my throat and wafted around me. I tentatively responded to her musical invitation, and she playfully teased me with snippets of sexy, ribald musical cliches. I grew more forceful with the sexual energy of the young, and she dared me to proceed further. I pressed on, with an almost cacaphonous fervor, my own young cock beginning to swell in my breeches. I began a salacious cadence, strong firm. She matched my own, hotly, and we lunged together harder and harder, higher and higher in pitch. I went on, synchronously stroking in a furious glissando, when I suddenly realized where I was and with whom I was engaged in this musical lovematch. Ideas fled from my young, amateurish lyrical heart, and I could only crash with the hellish heat of climax, spurting out blast after blast. Her flute soared while mine dipped, as we went on for what seemed like minutes. Playfully, as if to complete the story, we slowly descended with ever softer pulses and nips, and finally stopped and lay our flutes aside. We sat there for a long moment, she looking out to sea; I gazing in the same direction over her shoulder. Our breath came out in surprised pants. My mouth dropped open in stunned exhaltation. Never had I experienced such a musical epiphany, and I expected that I never would again. Jeara slowly turned her head and shoulders to me, bracing herself with a hand on my thigh. I saw the first unabashed smile I had ever seen from her: "Welcome," her eyes seemed to say, "to this new place where magic is created from music." She laughed aloud at the stunned expression on my face, and her free hand cupped my cheek in friendly greeting. Her other hand patted the thigh on which it rested. Alas, on that spot was the tip of my now fully-erect young staff, still stimulated to the brink by our sensual concert. A range of emotions swept across her beautiful face then: surprise, embarrassment, and flattered pleasure. Our eyes locked for a moment and her breath seemed to catch, and then Jeara leaned forward and locked her arms around my neck. She pressed her lips sweetly to mine, and then pressed her body to me firmly. I hesitated for only a moment, and then I pressed my arms around her waist and returned her kiss, communicating not only my adolescent, ever-present lusts, but my love and affection for this stunning woman who had opened this new territory to me. As the tender kiss continued, her hands began to explore me, to reacquaint herself with the body of a man. Emboldened, I allowed my own hands to drift over her torso, and I became enflamed by each slender swell and dip of her magnificence. Her loins pressed against mine, grinding her soft mons against my straining hardness. Opening her eyes, Jeara broke the kiss but moved her face only inches from mine. Her unwavering stare probed me; I answered with hope, affection, confidence, and not a little lust. Seemingly satisfied with my response, Jeara pushed herself up off my shoulder and rose to her feet. Wordlessly, she dropped a hand to me, and I stood up, the front of my breeches now fully tented. Taking my hand in hers, she led me into the house, through the parlor, and down the hall to a large bedroom that also opened onto a deck facing the sea. It was simply furnished, with only a large but simple bed, a nightstand with basin and candle, and a dresser. Turning to face me, Jeara took hold of the hem of my shirt and drew it quickly over my head, cocking her head and smiling in acknowledgment at my slim but muscular form. My stupor at the series of events that led me to her bed chamber could not keep from me the realization that I had never seen Jeara so happy, so playful -- so *alive*. Her hands then quickly undid my belt and tugged my breeches to the floor. As my feet stepped out of them, her slim fingers drew up my thighs and then swirled around my throbbing, exposed member, measuring me, toying with me, enrapturing me. As I groaned in pleasure, Jeara gently let go and turned her back to me. I picked up her hint and unfastened the drawstring at her neck which held up her linen robe. When she paused, I drew the garment over her shoulders and down her dangling arms. I leaned forward and kissed the sloping valley between neck and shoulder, then drew my lips down the middle of her back, taking the robe further down ahead of me. Her generous but taut ass came into view, and I dropped to one knee and rubbed my cheek against one soft buttock as the robe finally pooled at her feet. I turned the standing woman to face me, and found my eyes no more than an inch from her downy valley. I pressed my lips to the center of her soft, light-colored pubic locks in tribute. My pursed lips descended to the opening of her fleshy folds, and the aroma of her arousal ascended to greet me. I kissed, I chewed, I worshipped those lips. My tongue stroked along the edge of the cleft, and then hungily slid inside, savoring her intimate juices. My hands, which were gently stroking her thighs, felt them quiver with tension and anticipation. After long moments where her murmered endearments rose to muffled groans, she brought her fingers to opposite sides of my cheek and bid me to rise to my feet. As I did, her mouth again clamped onto mine, and her teeth nibbled at my lower lip. My hands brushed against the small, light-pink nipples that capped her modest but perfectly shaped breasts. Together, we descended to the bed, and she pushed at my shoulders to have me lay on my back, as she knelt next to my hips. Her slender fingers again clutched at my stalk, but now firmly. She slowly drew her hand up and down several times, and I feared that I might spend if she were to continue too long. A bead of my seed gathered at the tip. She leaned over as thought to examine my emission, and then barely parted her lips and took the reddened tip inside her mouth. I almost exploded as I felt her soft tongue tap at the pre-cum, and then slide over the lust-moistened end. After laving my rod for a moment, she slowly glided her wonderful lips back to the tip with slight suction, drawing the substance inside her. In my adolescence, I must confess, I could not help but think of what magic that this woman, the most accomplished floutist of our time, might bring to such oral ministrations upon my straining cock. However, Jeara then pulled her mouth away altogether, and rose up onto her knees. The ash-blonde woman threw her legs over my hips so that her pussy rested just above my erection, and she guided me inside her with a sure hand. With only two firm pushes, I was completely inside her wet, tight glove. She rested her hands on my shoulders and then began to rock her loins on my hips, drawing me out of and then into her center of passions. I, on my back, clutched her hips and moved my own hips up to meet her fevered pushes. I gloried in the heated pressure of her tight walls on my burgeoning sword, as we continued our dance. Her eyes flickered open and her mouth drew into an ecstatic rictus of pleasure as I further lunged up. She began to hum lightly, using her pitch, as well as the pace of her own hips to guide my tempo. She soon began to ride me faster, and I concentrated on postponing my own release until I was sure hers had come. I finally was rewarded with a muffled, shrill hum and felt her cunt muscles contract with pulsating jerks. I then cried out my own release, gasping as the seed spurted from me and filled the older woman's chamber. I lurched up again and again, spending deep into her each time. As our ecstacy subsided, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the gentle sensations of Jeara's hugging moist channel on my deflating manhood. Long moments of such ecstacy accompanied by the warmth of the late afternoon sun completed my reverie. Without warning, I felt her tense, and my eyes shot open. I looked up and saw her eyes dart in horror toward the door. My eyes followed, and saw standing in the doorway the slender Linna, flute bag in hand, her brown eyes welling with tears. Her lips quivered, and she barely blubbered, "No - not the two of you; not together!" With a wail, she disappeared from the doorway. Jeara slid off my now soft member, and we both quickly stood. Jeara threw on her robe and went after the young student, while I wrestled with my shirt and breeches. I came out to the main parlor, where I found the two women huddled on the couch. Linna's face was buried in Jeara's chest, and I could see the girl's light-brown curls and shoulders heave with her sobs. I crept by and motioned to Jeara that I would leave, but she instead motioned me to sit in a chair opposite them. Through her sobs, Linna somehow explained that in coming up the hills she heard the sensual, and ultimately sexual, duets between Jeara and me. Realizing that I somehow had been elevated to some sphere of musical awareness that she, Linna - considered the more musical of the two of us - had not yet grasped. She crept into the house in curiosity, and saw the two of us embrace and then retire to Jeara's bedchamber for a lustful tryst. Crying into Jeara's chest, Linna now conceded that her despondency had at that point become complete, as she saw the two people who she most admired and loved - musically, spiritually and physically - were now locked into a union that could only exclude her. As Linna finished her confession, Jeara and I sat in stunned silence. Suddenly, I realized how much my affection for the brilliant talents of this quiet, button-nosed girl really meant to me, and how much I physically cherished her as well. Jeara rocked the young girl in her arms, and Linna's tears finally subsided. Jeara then quietly explained how I had come upon her grieving playing and had joined the performance, which had led to our out-of-control joining. Jeara explained, "Linna, dear, there is nothing to prevent you from performing with me in such a duet as well." She suddenly blushed as she realized the potential double meaning of her words. Linna looked into her face with serious, red-brimmed eyes and protested, "But that's the point. How can I match the passion of your playing, and Jaze's, when the lust you can feel for him is what I feel for you and" - there, Linna turned to me - "and I've felt for the longest time for Jaze but you two don't for me?" Again, we sat in silence. Linna closed her eyes, as she could not bear to watch us after admitting such dual loves. Jeara commended me to her with a soft, "Jaze." As I came over, she beckoned me to pick up the slender Linna, and led me back to her bedroom, with the girl in my arms. I gently dropped Linna's feet to the floor while holding her shoulders. The girl's eyes remained close until she felt the kiss on her lips, and, upon opening her eyes, was openly startled to discover that the lips were not mine, but those of Jeara. Together then, Jeara and I stripped the flower-embroidered blouse from Linna's form and her full skirt from around her waist. We then disrobed each other and softly laid Linna back onto the bed. The older woman and I knelt beside her and took turns kissing the girl while allowing our hands to gently roam over her torse, lightly tweaking at the small, barely ripe breasts and lightly-furred mound of her loins. Our lips soon followed our hands, nipping and caressing her soft skin. She soon began to smile in raw pleasure at the sensualness of the pampering. Before long, however, the girl's sexual urges took over, and she began to almost wildly swing her head and legs about, finally shrieking as Jeara took the girl's virginal pussy lips between her teeth and began tugging at licking at Linna's sex. One of Linna's flailing arms finally descended upon my re- swollen organ as I knelt beside her, and then her hand twisted around to grasp its thickness. Linna turned her sweet face toward me and impatiently flicked one of her lush brown curls away from her eyes. She then arched her neck toward me and took my thick cock into her pink lips. Her tongue lapped at the underside of the head and then swabbed at the tip, and I could tell she was exploring and savoring the taste of both my swollen cock and the the residue of Jeara's cuntal juices. Linna's eyes flickered up to mine, and she kept them locked on me as she continued to nibble and lave at my engorged rod. The look of love and happiness and relief on her face gave to her a beauty that not even the most renowned of concubines could ever hope to match. She then closed her eyes and threw her face forward, drawing me further inside her heated mouth and bringing me closer to spending once again. I pulled away and Linna instinctively drew her leg that was closest to me toward her chest. Needing no further communication, Jeara pulled her hungering mouth away from the girl and, with a soft tug at my thigh, guided me into the saddle of Linna's widespread thighs. Jeara darted to the head of the bed and sat sideways, allowing Linna to rest her head on the musician's lap. Linna moaned slightly as my cock passed the portals of her inexperienced pussy, but she made no further complaint as I made my way inside her, except for one sharp intake of breath as I slowly ripped away the shield of her virginity. Throughout this entry, Jeara soothed the girl with gentle strokes of her temple, shoulders and breasts. After my pentration was complete and I began the most gentle surges I could muster, Jeara leaned over and gently kissed Linna, their tongues encircling and joining. My stroking of Linna went on. In only a few moments, Linna emitted a soft, keening whine into Jeara's mouth as her spasms came over her. I waited until sure of her climax, and then permitted my own explosion, drawing a quick, surprised chirp from Linna as she felt the warmth of my seed splash inside her. After a respite of only a few moments, Linna slid from the bed and pulled us outside, where she picked up our flutes. The three of us sat in the nude on the edge of the low wall protecting Jeara's deck from the surrounding cliffs, and began playing. We allowed Linna to take the lead, playing of children scampering around a pond, chasing a big green frog (with my impression of a basso frog nearly ending the concert from the women's laughter), and then telling of the young lovers who come to the pond to lie on its banks and engage in their trysts. The flutes of the two extraordinarily talented women soared over the milling gulls, while I, in my near exhaustion, contented myself with taking on the role of the willing but not-too-aggressive young men. Only darkness and the treacherousness of the unlit road back to the village ended the concert. The final memories of that day some months before - of Linna and I strolling hand in hand back to the village - resounded through my head here in the ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice Castle as I watched the blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and begin to perform for the assembled royals and the young maids who cavorted with them.... SOLSTICE CASTLE PART IX (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 the royal's debauch-filled stag party. Having enjoyed the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and peering at Princess Paleem while trying to avoid the mysterious assailant, Jaze now sees that his flute instructor and lover, Madame Jeara, has been brought into play to the royalty gathered there.) The final memories of that day some months before - of Linna and I strolling hand in hand back to the village after our menage a trois with Madame Jeara - resounded through my head here in the ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice Castle as I watched the blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and begin to perform for the assembled royals and the young maids who cavorted with them.... [End of Part VIII] ************************** I was torn. I had a raging desire to go visit the sultry, high-breasted and long-legged blonde beauty Jenfeer, who was giving me come-hither looks from where she was seated by the pool. Still, I could not take my eyes of the sleek, ash-blonde woman who was putting her lips to her flute. Looking around me, I could see that more than a few of the revelers were keeping a least one eye on the stage, so great was Jeara's fame and legend. Several couples were lying on their sides facing the stage on the soft grassy slopes around the pool, with the male behind the maid who was serving him, driving his hard sword into her tender depths. A soft, birdlike trill started slowly, and then became louder, as though tentatively filling the natural ampitheatre to its capacity. As her most apt pupil, I could immediately sense from Jeara's hard-edged tune her conflicting emotions - annoyance at being commanded to leave her refuge and appear for the royals, humiliation at being led to a place of wild sexuality but being deprived of any participation or even view of the goings one, and loneliness at having no one with whom to share the very emotions of hope and revelry that the Solstice Festival was to bring about. I almost winced as I heard her descend into a tune very similar to that which I'd first heard on that afternoon on which we'd become lovers. Her melody sang of a couple, tall and gorgeous and very much in love, who have life and passion torn from them as the man dies in battle. Her tones, low and mournful, told of the woman's griefstricken travails, with all desire to touch or even to see others slipping away from her. As Jeara continued, I could see that the frantic couplings had all ceased. Most of the rutting royal's organs had flagged, dropping limply from the juicy pussies of the young beauties who served them. Crown Prince Phrenshraw now sat at the edge of the pool below the stage, his elbows on his knees and his rapt head solemnly cupped in his hands, while a sandy haired young vixen, wearing nary a stitch, knelt behind him with her arms resting on his shoulders, her attention also focussed on the stage. Many a young girl was weeping silently as the melancholy tune brought a funeral, hopeless tone to her heart. The duke who had first started the festivities stood to the side of the stage, wringing his hands in consterntation at the death knell that Jeara's playing had dealt to the festivities. But Jeara seemed oblivious, and continued her dirge-like tones, her head floating softly atop her shoulders, as though transported in a trance to another place. I could see that she might continue on in this vein for another hour unless intercepted - and that no one would have the audacity to cut off the efforts of the most distinguished musician in all our land. Again, impetuosity overcame me, and I found myself heading up to the stage. From Jeara's linen bag, I slid out one of her larger flutes, with a lower range. Seating myself near the side of the stage - my legs crossed in front of me, I pulled the instrument to my lips and began a baritone countermelody to her own. Her head jerked toward me in confusion and not a little anger; who would dare to play on the same stage as she? I responded with a few signature measures that she was sure to recognize, and an unmistakeable - but confused smile - grew on her lips. All the while, she did not miss a beat as my playing meshed with hers. I toyed with Jeara's song by playing a parody of it; making my own tune so sad and tinged with grief that she could not help but let a chuckle slip into her song. She now clearly recognized the pall that she had brought to the fest, and an apologetic peep was returned to me. I slowly shifted the song back to the first notes she'd played, taking the role of the soldier she'd sent off to war but never was to see again. As I now, more confidently, played the scene with my flute, the soldier himself now returned to her, an absurd trill announcing that the report of his death was an error of the bureaucracy. Jeara played along with my revisionism, and now re-cast herself as the overwhelmingly relieved and ecstatic lover, throwing herself into the arms of her returning beloved. In our notes, birds soared and danced in a duel in the skies. The atmosphere in the ampitheatre visibly lightened, even if not all those assembled detected the details of the scene that was being playing by our flutes. I glanced down by the pool, and could see fires re-stoked by the lighter tone. The heavily- breasted blonde whose favors I had declined in order to chase after the green cloaked assailant now was astride a fleshy baron, her cunt filled with his hard cock and her hips jerking as she pounded down onto his loins in time to the music. Her paramour, for the moment at least, reached up while she rode him and cupped her tits and stroked her hardened nipples. The blonde glanced at me and blew me a kiss with what can best be described as a look of gratitude. Surrounding her were dozens of other couplings similarly synchronized to the music. The young looking young angel who I'd earlier espied with the older man who she claimed as her "uncle" now was wrapped around a standing, slender boy who looked barely old enough to shave. She affixed herself to him by latching her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He held her ass as she vigorously bounced on his slender organ. Somehow, he managed to retain his balance throughout. Several of the serving maids were up on their knees swaying to the steady tune. Jenfeer rose to her feet and pulled up two of the wenches, and they resumed their passage through the crowd with flagons of wine and waterpipes full of the aphrodisiac tobacco that had so entranced the crowd earlier. I saw several of the musicians who had been succeeded by Jeara now sitting alongside the stage, their feet involuntarily tapping time. I nodded toward them, and then toward their instruments. Each grinned at the opportunity to accompany the exalted Madame Jeara, and leaped onto the stage. The drummer, a shaggy haired young man, laid down a heavy pulsating beat, and the lute players added a lilting background to our solos. A half dozen nude or nearly nude courtesans who were not otherwise occupied slipped up near the stage, swaying their slim hips and clapping with the music, their firm young breasts bobbing along with them. Charel and Licia, the two cousins who had first greeted me with their delightful bodies earlier in the evening, now hovered near the back of the stage, enthralled with Jeara's playing. I smiled at them and gestured with another nod toward Jeara. Licia and Charel hesitantly came forward, and the blonde Charel knelt down beside Jeara. The older woman sensed their presence but continued playing. I detoured to a quote from an old children's tune about animal friends beside a pond, and Jeara picked up the reference and visibly relaxed. Charel reached up and softly rubbed Jeara's shoulders and neck, and Jeara' flute trilled in delight. Slim hands then covered my eyes, and I fought to keep my concentration on my playing. As I passed the solo over to Jeara, incredibly soft lips found my own, prying them open. A blast of sweet, spiced smoke entered my mouth and lungs, and I heard the brushing sound of a metallic chain and felt a high, firm, round breast press against my back. Of course: Jenfeer. I opened my eyes and saw her dancing blue eyes and chiseled, pale cheekbones, framed by her blonde hair that was pulled back and tied into a long braid that serpentined down her back. I slid my mouth from hers and nibbled on her ear and neck as she knelt before me; I remained sitting. I did not fight as she guided my mouth down to her left breast, taking as much of the delicious orb as I could into my mouth, while my trapped tongue danced over the taut nipple. As my solo returned, I pulled my lips away from Jenfeer's breast and sat up, reluctantly taking the flute up to play. Ever the good sport, the platinum-haired goddess reached down and expertly untied the drawstring to my breeches. My improvisational skills lost a little focus as I felt Jenfeer's hands slide the waistband down to my hips, and I rolled onto one asscheek and then another to assist the girl in pulling the breeches over my butt, down my thighs, and off my legs altogether. The rush of the herbs and the awe inspiring vision of Jenfeer had caused my staff to reawaken fully, and Jenfeer lightly wrapped her fingers around it. I looked back over toward Jeara, and I saw that she too was somewhat occupied. Charel still knelt behind the seated floutist and was rubbing her hand over Jeara's firm, silk-covered breasts. Dark-haired Licia was lying alongside the sitting woman and was rubbing underneath the hem of Jeara's robe; I could see the movement of her hand outlined by the fabric at Jeara's thighs. Licia's arm moved forward, and the lovely woman let loose with a surprised run up the scale. Licia's hand obviously was pleasuring my lover's mons. I felt a warm wetness at my own cock tip, and looked down to see that Jenfeer now was laying on her stomach, with her long legs stretched to the side and lovely blonde head in my lap. She had taken just the cap of my manhood between her soft pink lips and into her mouth, and was caressing it with inch-long movements of her pursed lips. I tried to thrust myself further into the magical wetness of her maw, but found it almost impossible to do while sitting cross-legged with my hands unavailable to give me leverage. As though sensing my helplessness, Jenfeer slowly took my cock further inside her mouth, and sweet lips still gently hugged the shaft with a steady stroking, her sylph-like neck bowing and rising. I raised my head and trumpeted a few blast of my own ecstacy. In doing so, my eyes caught a glimpse of white up through an opening in the canopy of trees, and I realized that several white-garbed women were watching us. Focussing on the spot, I detected Lorena and Rebca watching Jeara and me from a corner of a castle balcony, as I had heard them describe earlier inside the castle garden. A further movement caught my eye, and I saw a shock of red hair between the two lovelies. Princess Paleem! The King's only daughter was peeking at the lascivious festivities as well. Her lovely hazel eyes gleamed as she watched while huddled behind her servants. I pretended not to see her, but broke off the chord changes I was exploring and cut into a subtle but detectable version of the royal family's official hymn. My gaze returned to her, and it took but a moment for her to detect the theme and see me staring at her; her hand rushed to her mouth as she came to the understanding that I had seen and that the passage was a tribute to her. She started to duck away, but Lorena and Rebca each grabbed an arm and pulled her forward to the thigh-high wall at the edge of the balcony. My eyes remaining on the crimson-tressed princess, I permitted the royal theme to fade from the air, and then segued to an improvised story emulating that about which I had heard Paleem fantasize in the garden. A sensitive but strong young man entered the parlor of a woman - yes, the princess, identified by just a snippet of the royal theme. Jeara, ever the master, picked up on my tale and after a quick musical query - "a princess?" - and my confirming, certain note - portrayed the princess herself. Our notes slid together, as if my hands were sliding along the princess' neck and down her shoulders. A throbbing rounded note from Jeara's flute, and my pulsing strokes replied; Paleem brought her young hands to the breast of her elegant white robe, her firm hands pressing against her breasts. Lorena, who obviously was delighted that the princess whom she served was becoming carried away, lightly rubbed her mistress' ass. In conjunction, I lowered the pitch of my stroking notes, as though they were my own hands now which caressed her hips. The princess dropped her hands to the lip of the low wall in front of her and pulled her loins forward, pressing the swell of her mons against the firm stone wall, trying to simultaneously suppress and satisfy the lust obviously coursing through her. Jeara and I permitted the teasing to continue for awhile longer, and then descended to a throaty, lustful melody. A major chord, an almost dissonant minor chord - the princess could feel her thighs being parted. A growing, throbbing, compelling bass tone: I poised my manliness at the portals. A sliding, liquid glissando followed, with Jeara's responding sharp, shrill retort - almost as the breaking of a pot. I had entered! The princess' mouth opened in delight and her hips pressed harder against the wall. Throughout the ampitheatre, the randy couplings increased in vigor, as baron and serving maid alike each strove for the climax to which our music guided them. Wet slapping sounds of loins against loins permeated the air. Jenfeer too was caught up in the approaching crescendo, as she took my throbbing shaft further and further into her mouth and up against the opening to her throat. One of her hands was busy guiding my cock into her mouth; the other was tucked underneath her prone body and was pleasuring her own loins, which were churning against the ground. Licia had pulled the hem of Jeara's robe up to her waist, and the vigorous rubbing of the young girl's hand on the lust-inflamed labia of my playing partner was completely visible. Our tempo now increased in pitch, as Jeara almost desperately implored me to hasten the end. Amidst the grunts and moans of the many fucking couples sprawled across the lawns, I heard no tell- tale signs that any had yet reached their completion, as though all were commanded to await our signal. While I felt that that voracious, wet-lipped sucking of my hard prick by the beautiful blonde Jenfeer could bring me off at any time, there was one woman whose pleasure was utmost in my mind. I stared up again at the balcony, and could see Paleem's eyes now were desperately clinging to my face, as though only I could lead her to the goal that her shivering loins needed to attain more than any prize she could imagine. A light obligato, and then another - I teased my fantasy lover. Jeara responded with a plea - no, a royal plea punctuated by the royal theme. I paused a beat, then two... Then I let loose with heavy bass tones, pushing as much into the instrument as my body would allow. Paleem's hips jerked from an almost invisible invasion. Rebca slyly reached down and cupped the princess' pussy mound through her thin robe, and I could imagine her fingers probing and stroking in time to my sharp, blasts. Paleem kept the girl's fingers pinned between her cunt and the balcony wall. In my lap, Jenfeer's mouth increased the urgency of its sucking, as though she could by commanding my own orgasm force me to release her own. She now spoke, gaspingly, for the first time since she'd joined me on stage: "Now, my love, spend in me; I must taste your seed in my mouth!" Another plea from Jeara, and I almost laughed as I saw her flushed face underneath her blindfold. A low-C blast, then D, and F#. The drummer abandoned his left hand and pounded at the bass drum along with my ascending, urgent tones. I glanced at the balcony; Paleem's hips pounded against the wall and the relief offered by Rebca's selfless hand. My princess paused, and then her body tensed and straightened, with small but hurried jerks of her loins against Rebca's fingers. Her red hair swirled around her face; her mouth opened and she visibly panted in short gasps. Rebca suddenly grinned, looked down at me, and nodded. Our princess was explodingly with pleasure. I clambered up the scale and signaled Jeara. She blew to all the call of her own release in sharp, ecstatic cries. We ascended together, and were joined by one, and another, and then almost all of the barons and dukes and maids and serving wenches and courtesans. The air was filled with cries and pleas and gasping sighs. Jenfeer's muffled cry on my cock and scissoring thighs told me that she too was achieving her release. I yearned to watch each salacious couple as I could tell from the corner of my eyes that male seed was splashing into and onto the spasming pussies and asses of almost every maiden. However, my eyes were firmly affixed upon Paleem, tasting every moment of her jerking orgasm, her face contorting in ecstacy at each sweet spasm. As the contractions subsided, her eyes flew open and immediately locked onto mine, in lust and gratitude. Now that we were one, I let her share in my release. My jaw dropped dumbly in a stupid grin, and I released the gates of my explosion, surprising Jenfeer with a sudden spurt of seed into her slavering mouth. The blonde maid moaned in delight, capturing each blast as it shot along the length of her tongue. Paleem's tongue dropped onto her own lower lip and her hand involuntarily came to her chin, as though attempting to savor the acrid sweetness of my spending cum. With one final blast of cacaphonous, atonal release, I dropped the flute and grasped Jenfeer's head near the base of her blonde braid. I guided the beauty's head further onto my spurting cock, and she took the additional shots deep in her hungry mouth. My emissions subsided, but Jenfeer continued to try to suction additional seed from my overworked tip. Then, she worked her tongue over the beads clinging to the slit at the end and around the sides of the cap, lapping at each morsel of my manly residue. For two beats, the crowd remained silent, except for gasping attempts to catch their breath. Then, all eyes focussed on the stage, and a spontaneous ovation erupted. Cheers, whistles, and shouted "Huzzahs" cascaded across the hillside. On the balcony, Lorena and Rebca waved their arms and pumped their fists; Paleem could only manage a weak grin as she leaned against the low wall, her slender hips still swaying. I tried to bow my head modestly, but I could not suppress my pleased grin. Jeara slyly pushed her blindfold up to expose one eye; while wincing from the sudden light, she managed an unambiguous wink as though from one victorious teammate to another. The drunk Duke who had just ten minutes before been wringing his hands in concern at the funereal cast of the festival now jigged happily by himself, apparently oblivious to the wet spot on the front of his trousers where he had spent himself in his excitement. I knew that as of tonight my life had taken a sudden, new turn. At the very least, I figured could enjoy a comfortable living as a musician sponsored by some royal patron, and certainly would be remembered fondly by most of the royalty present. Beyond that, any of the young maids who had been the beneficiaries of the lusty screwing which my duet with Jeara had spawned might find a decidely appropriate way to express their gratitude. Without a doubt, I had in a few short minutes placed myself in the most enviable position imaginable. I turned my head back in the direction of Jeara to embrace her within my good fortune, and a familiar color caught my eye. Behind her, in the shadows, stood a man in a green cloak, a ruby ring glistening at the hand that rested at his side. Only one eye and the side of his face were visible, and only dimly at that. He was staring at me in recognition and anger. From his glare and the clenched set of his jaw, I knew that this stranger - the mysterious assailant of the prime minister - had figured out that I was the one who had come upon him in the midst of his attack. At that moment, I would not have bet a rusty brass halfcoin on the value of my life. SOLSTICE CASTLE PART X (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 the royal's debauch-filled stag party. Having enjoyed the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and peering at Princess Paleem while trying to avoid the mysterious assailant, Jaze, along with his flute instructor and lover, Madame Jeara, have with their wild musical duet brought the fest to a wild, orgiastic frenzy.) [..I turned my head back in the direction of Jeara to embrace her within my good fortune, and a familiar color caught my eye. Behind her, in the shadows, stood a man in a green cloak, a ruby ring glistening at the hand that rested at his side. Only one eye and the side of his face were visible, and only dimly at that. He was staring at me in recognition and anger. From his glare and the clenched set of his jaw, I knew that this stranger - the mysterious assailant of the prime minister - had figured out that I was the one who had come upon him in the midst of his attack. At that moment, I would not have bet a rusty brass halfcoin on the value of my life... (End of Part 9)] -------------------- Notwithstanding the palpable chill that trickled down my spine, ill humor was difficult to maintain. Cheers still rang through the crowd, and Charel and Licia had rushed over to hug me at their excitement. In that they had been seeing to Madame Jeara's pleasure during our mad, passion-inducing duet, the two nymphs were not themselves the recipient of any lovemaking. They insisted that I join them for a further lustful threesome which, they assured me, would bring to me pleasure which I could only hope to imagine. Pulling my breeches back over my hips, I promised them that I soon would join them but was for the moment somewhat disabled by my second spending of the night. With a simultaneous glaring at the lovely Jenfeer, who still wore my seed on her lips, the two cousins flounced off. I glanced up at the palace balcony on which Princess Paleem had enjoyed what I sensed was her first orgasm at the hand of another. I just glimpsed the back of the three young women's heads as they left the balcony. After a moment, Queen Serjeen herself appeared and glanced down at the grounds. Her eyes grew wide at the site of the nobles and young maids wandering about in various stages of undress. I can only surmise that until then she - and most certainly the King - were unaware that the site could be observed from the Princess' balcony. As she surveyed the scene, the Queen's eyes locked onto mine. I good naturedly waved my flute at her; she glowered back in mock anger as though to say, I should have known you'd be at the center of all of this. Shaking her head in disgust, Queen Serjeen left the balcony. Jeara and the musicians launched into another tune, a sprightlier, simpler song, to maintain the general blissful air of the party. Obviously, all of the nobles who had just themselves reached their releases were even older than I and not yet prepared to resume their lustful rutting. At Jeara's cue, I added touches of harmony to the tunes, but did not purport to further play as her equal. Jeara had by this point fully removed her blindfold, which seemed to trouble no one. She seemed genuinely flattered by the effect she'd had on the assembled guests, and I caught her appraising a few of the more handsome young members of the nobility, as well as a couple of the serving wenches, as potential bedmates. I suppressed an unbidden sense of jealousy and succeeded in feeling rather more pride and pleasure that the fest was wresting her from the melancholy and grief of the death of her husband so many months before. The serving maids bustled around bringing glasses of wine and trays of chilled fruits and seasoned meats to the nobles, many of whom could not seem to erase from their faces broad grins of pleasure and not a little pride. I suspected that some of the older dukes and counts had not performed so lustfully for many years, but had managed to do so now with the assistance of the pounding music. After several more tunes, I made sure my breeches were re- fastened properly and wandered down by the pool to find some refreshments. My transit was hampered by several smoke-impaired, hearty nobles, each of whom clapped me on the back and allowed how I was certainly the most promising of young musicians. One even uttered to me in a loud, drunken whisper that he was attempting to seduce the virtuous, beautiful young wife of one of his knights and that he would make it worth my while to come play another such lust-inducing tune at the scene of his next contemplated assignation. I politely assured him that I would with every expectation that the offer would be forgotten the next morrow -- abetting the cuckolding of a knight was not a wise man's action! I sat near the pond's edge and leaned against the sloping grass hillside. Charel came over with a glass of deep ruby wine and a pocket of spiced-meat pie and extended it reluctantly, her pout still affixed to her face. Sardonically, she uttered, "Well, milord, at least I can say that I enjoyed the skills of your lips before the rest of the crowd." I tried to bow from a sitting position in what I hoped was a decent imitation of a gentleman. "My sweet, fair-haired maiden, I would much rather try to create music at your vessel than with even the greatest of orchestras." Charel rolled her eyes in knowing disdain. "Oh, I see you have been working in the stables as well, for you seem to have brought their most prolific product with you." Still, she gave me a lovely if measured smile for my willingness to at least attempt to mollify her, and walked away to continue her serving duties. "Here, here, good Jaze! What a festival you have made it!" I looked up dreamily into the reddened face of Prince Phrenshraw, who clearly was several glasses of wine ahead of me. On each arm was a maiden of astonishing beauty; obviously, the crown prince was entitled to favors which were not to be shared with just any noble. The tall, serene brunette on his far arm projected a stunning elegance, and I realized that her visage was not unlike that of Queen Serjeen; with a mother of such beauty, any fascination that the prince might have toward a lookalike was unsurprising. Phrenshraw added, "For enhancing the revels, you have the gratitude of my family, particularly my father, who most benefitted from the inspiration -- or perhaps it is you who really benefitted, Onassa." He leered at the brunette to his right, who blushed and looked down. I tried to suppress my astonishment; the King himself was freely trysting with the maids on this evening. My guilt at my limited, but - technically - consummated coupling with the Queen the preceding evening abated considerably. The honey-haired, younger maid on his near arm giggled modestly, which gave me an excuse to stare at her own stunning features. She bore the slimness of Charel but was taller, with even more electrifyingly gorgeous features. Her small, narrow face with its huge brown eyes and bow-like mouth entranced me. "My father would like to thank you himself," said Phrenshraw with a slight slur, directed more into the Onassa's neck, which he then was nuzzling, then toward me. "Auria here will escort you." He motioned toward the honey-haired stunner; she bowed engagingly. Without waiting for a response, the Prince and Onassa staggered off, leaving me with Auria. She turned slightly, indicating with her eyes the tent on the far side of the pool from the stage, but I remain transfixed by her dark eyes. She laughed - oh could any musician hope to replicate that laugh- and held out her hand for me to take. The low fold of her simple, spare gown revealed under her outstretched arm much of her firm right breast. Notwithstanding my assertions to Charel and Licia just a few moments before of my inability to resume any lovemaking, I felt a thick lurch at my loins. Shaking my head to clear it, I held out my arm for her to take, and we slowly walked around the pool, obstructed by groupings of nobles and maidens, who slowly were beginning to resume some of their libidinous activities. Just before we reached the tent, Auria stopped me and turned to me, again capturing me with her large brown eyes. (Yes, gentle reader, I know I repeat myself in waxing rhapsodic about those ebony windows into her soul, but you would as well if you had come under their spell.) Her voice was high, like a nightingale's song. "Milord Jaze? I too hope to be a musician, and have had some training from the castle musicians in the hope of being able to bring some pleasure to the royal family when they desire a simple tune. But, to be able to tell a tale of wonder as you were able - and to play with Madame Jeara - that is beyond their capacity to teach." She tentatively placed her hands on my chest, then drew them up behind my neck. "I could arrange for you to come into the castle to give me lessons, privately... if..." she hesitated, "if you would be willing to do so." How could I conceivably have turned down such a request? "I would be delighted, milady, if it pleases the royal family." Her eyes widened with glee, and, I tell you, bringing joy to such a face sends flocks of doves aloft in one's soul. She impetuously pulled my face to hers and bussed me warmly. While I expect she intended the kiss to be one of gratitude, she complained not when I sustained it and placed my hands on her waist. Our lips remain locked and her sweet tongue darted forward toward mine. As they darted and duelled, my hands cupped her slim, firm ass and lightly pressed her to me, such that she could feel my re- awakening member pressed against the flatness of your stomach. She groaned - and not unhappily - and pulled her face back breathlessly. "Well, I guess perhaps our lessons might be more encompassing than I expected," she whispered. She looked up at me and smiled shyly. "I suppose those are among the sacrifices a musician is expected to make to learn her craft." She paused and slid her long-fingered hand between our bodies and pressed it over my bulging trousers. Her face clouded briefly in surprise, and then pleasure, as her fingers measured me. "Yes, I will arrange for those lessons to begin very, very soon." She quickly kissed me again and pushed me up the steps to the opening of the large, colorful tent in which the King awaited, gesturing to the guards to allow me inside. The older of the two guards whirled and stuck his head inside the flap which now covered the entrance, apparently to announce me. He pulled his head out, now with a rather shocked look on his face. He conferred briefly with his partner and shrugged, then asked me my name. Turning back toward the flap, but not entering,the guard intoned, "Master Jaze of Speysard!" He pulled the flap aside and motioned me to hurry in. I lowered my head and stepped inside. Words can hardly do justice to the scene in the royal tent. Though only perhaps six paces on a side, the tent was full of just about everything a sybarite - nay, a satyr - could desire. Near the entrance of low tables were flagons of heavenly smelling wines and victuals of every description. Several small pipes of the aphrodisiac herbs which I had described before - the ingestion of which is normally rigidly controlled by priests for newlyweds to insure a successful consummation of their marriages - were strewn across several tables. Three pipes remained lit and I could sense that, merely by remaining in the room, one would within ten minutes begin rutting like a bull. Around the center and the back of the tent were various silken pillows of assorted sizes and shapes, most in various hues of red. Some were almost as couches or mattresses. Several flutes and a lyre lay near one side of the tent. Littered near the door were various official looking documents; apparently the King had been attempting to conduct some business before the fest began. In the center of all of this was the King, slightly overweight but otherwise heavily muscled and thick necked. He was as naked as at his birth, sprawled on his back against several pillows. His eyes were closed, but he clearly was awake, but not entirely conscious. Three nude, slim beauties with long, straight blonde hair were attending to him. One knelt on each side of him, while the third was sprawled on a pillow above his head. All three were rubbing his head, torso and neck, almost as though they were trying to revive him. I could not help but notice that his royal member dangled somewhat limply at his groin, notwithstanding the ardor of the trio's ministrations. One of the kneeling girls turned to me and smiled, without interrupting her stroking of the king's neck and dark beard. Her bright, almost translucent blue eyes peered at me. The other girls looked up as well, and I realized even in the dim light of the tent that the three were identical to one another. They must be triplets! Their slim hips and barely budding breasts suggested that they were mere youngsters, no older than thirteen. The first girl greeted me, "Hello, young minstrel," and I detected from her husky contralto that no matter how young the girls appeared, they might well be my own age of seventeen years. Still, notwithstanding my own prejudices against against taking advantage of girls of tender years, the sudden blossoming of my own crotch forced me to admit that the girls' appearance appealed to some deep-harbored fantasy suppressed only out of a desire to avoid harm to such maidens' immature emotions and bodies. Such a fantasy obviously had at least as great an appeal to King Abred. The King sensed the diversion of the girls' attention, and his eyes snapped open. "The mighty flute player appears," he intoned with the raspiness that comes from drink and smoke. "These girls are mad at you, you know. Your little tune with Madame Jeara got me so worked up that that little brunette, Ona... whatever, drained me entirely. That was quite a tapestry you two weaved. Recall that once I too was a young prince rushing off to lead an army into battle, and the story of the soldier's return to his lover drew strong memories from me." I was astonished that the King, in his drunkenness, still was perceptive enough to pick up on the storyline. He went on, "It's too early for the party to end, but I don't seem to have much left for this lithesome trio." He clumsily hugged the two kneeling blondes. My astonishment at seeing my King in such a state and my respect for the majesty of his position bid me to hold my tongue's suggestion that perhaps his ingestion of wine was at greater fault. I stared dumbly. "So, little flute player, I was hoping that you could find another tune that would be equally inspiring. We would be grateful..." His dark-browed eyes were almost pleading with me. Surely my life had changed in the past two days! I nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. I live only to serve you and your family. Of what tale should I play?" Abred frowned. "Hell if I know. You've got three luscious young girls here - you ought to be able to think of something." I scowled in thought, little wishing to tell the King that the girls' youthful appearance brought to mind little more than nursery rhymes, however delectable they might be. The first of the kneeling maids walked over to me on her knees, her unsteadiness betraying her own ingestion of the lust inducing pipe. She stopped in front of me with a crooked grin and reached up to place a hand on my bare chest. A small finger serpentined down my sternum to the top of my breeches. Her hot breath against my loins re-stiffened my slumbering cock, and she smiled as she detected her impact on me. She looked up with a winsome, albeit crooked grin. "I am Helia. Perhaps I can inspire you, milord?" She pursed her lips and leaned forward, her kiss landing squarely in my navel. She extended her tongue and probed at the indentation, and then swirled it around the edges. She lowered her head slightly and liquidly flicked sideways, back and forth, on the light fuzz above my beltline that ran from navel to the top of the thicker hair covering my pubic region. I could not help but think that this fuzz appeared thicker than the soft down that I could see guarding the maiden's mons. Of an instant, a thought came to mind, just as the girl's tongue reached my breeches and began to trace the outline of my stiff member beneath the fabric. "Your majesty!" I managed to blurt. Helia giggled at my discomfort, and continued her torture. "Do you enjoy the sea, the mysteries it might unfold?" The King's eyebrows rose. "Why yes. Very much. When I was a lad, swimming in the inlets below the castle here was one of the few pleasures permitted me where I was not surrounded by our family's usual retinue of governesses, guards and ministers. I always fantasized about meeting someone new, different." I reached down and cupped Helia's chin, drawing her to her feet. She arched her eyebrows in anticipation of my own approach to her and pressed her slender frame against me, her lips nuzzling at my cheek. "No, no," I whispered to her, "I am not the sort who dallies with the King's maidens. This is what I envision for you." I then told her of the scenario I'd conjured up. She giggled and nodded, and rushed over to her sisters, pulling them out of earshot of the King. She whispered to them, drawing giggles from all three, and then they scampered back to their original positions around the King, but did not touch him. He looked at me questioningly. I picked up the most promising of the flutes nearby, and, after running an experimental scale to insure its adequacy for my needs, began to play... I play first of the sea, of a warm day with waves crashing, and a lad, powerful but unworldly, who has slipped away from the castle and now splashes in the surf. The waves crash and pound, and the lad - identified by a royal riff as the young prince - savors the privacy and sensual refreshment of the sea. As the King closes his eyes to drink in the setting, the blonde girls flick their hair over his thighs to mimic the splash of the surf. With growing tension, a monstrous wave crests, and the girls rise, their long locks rising together up his torso and over his shoulders and head, which jerks in panic. A lilting, piercing melody of beauty intertwined with the sea interrupts the lethal chaos of the drowning surf. The water has not subsided, but the lad begins to relax. The King's eyes open to slits. He sees three sea maidens, long blonde hair flowing, surrounding him, welcoming him to their lair and safety. I catch the eye of one of Helia's sisters and nod my head toward one of the burning pipes. All three lean over and draw from the stem heavily, and lean over the waiting King. In turn, each presses their lips to his slack mouth and breathe life - air and fantasy - into his waiting lungs. My music becomes less necessary as the intoxicating herbs take hold and transport the three to the sea floor. I lower volume and pitch, as the quartet descends, the pounding surf above barely detectable in the silent sea. The girls swim over the lad, all four with tongues extended savoring the flavors of their flesh. As the loins of any one maiden nears the King's head, his lips descend upon her nearly hairless labia, and his tongue works its way inside, drawing tranquil screams from the girl. Hands and legs remain in motion, squirming over one another. I duck my head to one side and see that the King's member has returned to a stiffened state, and lower my tone to a lustful, earthy state. As one, the three girls plant their lips on the King's chest, and slowly work their slavering mouths ever lower on his torso, tonguing at his hip bone and outer thighs. As though directed by an architect, the three find themselves sprawled before him on their stomachs in a star design, two stretched to either side of him and one with her feet pointing directly away. The identical, golden heads of the triplets point toward his groin, their breaths ruffling his dark pubic hairs. With a thick, spine-clenching tone, I signal their advance, and the maidens' tongues and mouths travel up the King's thigh, their tongue tips tickling lightly at his balls and shaft. I raise the pitch slightly, and their exertions increase. With a steady throaty cadence, I lure the mouths of the two blondes splayed to the sides to clamp onto the side of the broad cudgel. The King's hips begin to jerk up and down this sleeve created by the suctioning mouths. Up and down they ride, almost meeting around the side. The third sister awaits her role as the King jerks and lunges; she is content to lightly rub his thighs and dangling pink balls. His breath grows harsher and his eyes clench shut, and I can see that in his mind's eye the fantasy is much more vivid than I could have designed. His hands rub up and down the slim backs of the two nymphs stretched out beside him, stopping to stroke and clench their long, yellow hair. I increase the tempo and add a major chord, and the third sister - I am amost sure it's Helia, although I've lost track of the girls' original placement in the midst of their contortions - finally brings her head forward, lips slightly parted. As her soft pink lips reach and lightly brush the tip of the King's tortured organ, his hips rise off the silk pillows beneath him and drive his cock halfway into her mouth. I can barely make out his length, as his lap is obscured by the pale blonde hair fanned out over it. Yet, with the sounds of sucking and slurping and the bobbing of the middle lass' head, I can tell he is receiving constant, torturous oral attention. I maintain the pace as it is. Satisfied that the participants are fully occupied in their oral attentions, I step carefully around the room, peering at the papers scattered about, looking for any information that might assist in identifying the mysterious assailant or the Drofnats clan that appears to be behind the plot. Most seem to relate to innocuous awards of franchises or concessions, and I am almost ready to give up, particularly in that the King's huffing and wailing seems to signal an impending climax. Kicking aside a decree governing disposal of animal wastes, I see underneath an undersized sheet of paper with a more casual scrawl than appeared on the more formal documents. I can barely make out the words, which appear to say: "Apprs. legitimate heir not all dead. Not enough jwls. to be sure. All holders must concur, but expect trouble from church and gyps. TN" I read the message over twice more to commit it to memory, trying at the same time to not lose sight of the simple tune I am playing so as to keep the King's lurching loins from flagging. As he starts to bellow, I kick the animal feces decree back on top of the mysterious note and start to blow with full force. Looking back on the lustful foursome, I see the King's hips madly pumping off the cushions, the tip of his stiff cock driving all the way into Helia's throat, and then pulling away with a loud suction. The lips of her sisters remain attached to the sides of his driving shaft. With the crashing of the surf on my flute, the King roars again and his hips jerk up and lock in place, his ass a foot off of the pillows. Helia's eyes open in schock and she moans liquidly in gleeful surprise as the first jets of his sperm reach her young mouth. The second blast obviously overflows the capacity of her small maw, as a river of semen pulses from the corner of her mouth. She quickly pulls her mouth off, clamping her cum-spotted lips together, and directs the spurting tip to the mouth of her nearest sister, who eagerly capures it and drinks in his essence, while Helia continues to milk him with small fingers. As the mouth of the second blonde vixen also overflows with the stream of the royal emission, she in turn passes the cudgel to her remaining sister, who takes the King deep into her throat, meeting Helia's hand where it clutches the base of the thick rod. Sister No. 3 finishes the job, swallowing the cream that the King deposits, then licking at the final drops of cum that bead at the tip. With two more jerks, the King's hips dropped to the pillowed floor with a muffled plop. His breathing was labored, but he smiled. His eyes cracked open and he gazed almost lovingly at the cum-spotted faces of his three identical attendants. "Thought your King was too old for a second go-round, didn't you?" he laughed. "We never had a doubt for a moment, Your Majesty," chirped Helia unconvincingly. Finally, the King looked over at me, suddenly remembering my presence. He said, "We'll have to find something to do with you in the castle, young man. You obviously have some uses. God forbid that you should ever play such tunes around my daughter, though. If she's got any of the wanton insatiableness of her mother she wouldn't have a chance of resisting you... and then of course I'd have to have you killed." SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 11 I staggered from the King's pavilion with his admonition against any seduction of his sole daughter ringing in my ear. Staggered is perhaps the most apt word to convey my physical and emotional state, for in one evening I had been feted and condemned by the King and dozens of nobles, seen the King and a Princess in the throes of sexual ecstacy, and been offered the sexual favors of the Queen. And - with all this - my overriding concern had to remain the mysterious green-cloaked assailant, presumably the "TN" of the note on which I'd stumbled while in the King's tent. This conspirator clearly would as readily see me dead as flick a gnat from his sleeve. Thus, the reader should not be surprised that I was exhausted beyond all powers of revival when I returned to the fest. The partygoers also were obviously feeling the effects of wine, drugged herbs, and rampant sexual congress, as many seemed debilitated as well. I saw more than a few handmaidens stifle a yawn as they served exotic coffees to the assembled nobles. Madame Jeara was no longer in sight - but, then again, neither were two of the younger, more handsome members of the King's small orchestra with whom she played. I could only speculate if there were any connection between these disappearances. Feeling that I could learn no more to aid my investigation into the cabal behind the attack on the prime minister, I took my leave of the party, stopping briefly to soundly kiss both Charel and Licia, the two cousins whose greeting had commenced my stay at the fest, and waved at the winsome Jenfeer, who smiled warmly at me from though she was pinned in place by a sleeping older Baron whose head was resting in her lap. The cool air off the harbor cleared my head some as I walked along the sea wall near the docks on my return to the monastery where I made my home with the monks. The puzzle flew through my head. Why had King Abred received a note from somone who may well have been launching a society of traitors to undermine his own rule? Was he a sponsor or victim of their scheme? What function did the jewels have? Clearly the conspirators needed other of the jewels to carry out the unknown but nefarious purposes for which they were designed, and some gypsy woman was at the heart of the quest. What would be their next step? I stumbled back to the monastery and was asleep as soon as I lay back on the pallet in my small cell. I was awakened by Bedray's pounding on the door to my cell, and I sleepily hurried through my morning ablutions and proceeded to the kitchen to help him prepare breakfast. His grizzled features eyed me warily as I sleep-walked through my chores. On several occasions during the morning, he seemed on the verge of giving me some advice but, as I was leaving at the conclusion of our cleaning of the breakfast dishes, he merely tousled my hair, and advised me to be careful. I tidied myself further and headed to the laundry run by Lindea and her father, out of a hope that they might be able to tell me the significance of the stones targeted by the thug who had pummelled the prime minister. When I arrived at the rough-hewn structure in which it was located, the front door was almost completely closed, but I could hear wailing coming from inside. I stuck my head inside the door, where I saw Lindea's father, Migeal, pacing the floor, his hands gesticulating in the steamy inside air. "I can't believe they have taken her," he cried to the three middle-aged gypsy women who surrounded him in simple black chairs, their hands wringing their brightly colored scarves each had affixed to the sleeve of her blouse.. "We have been the most loyal of gypsy families and have taken care of the King's laundry every summer for fifteen years with total loyalty. What could we have done to earn such a tragedy??!" Suddenly, Migeal espied me peeking in the door and rushed over to me. "You!", he shouted. I looked around, ready to bolt. Was this hysterical man somehow going to accuse me of some wrong? "Master Jaze," he cried, rushing over to me and grabbing my hands between his soap-chapped hands. He pleaded with his bushy-browed eyes. "My Lindea has been taken away by the King's elite guards! She told me she had seen you in the castle. Perhaps you know someone there who can find out why they have taken her." I wrestled my hands away, protesting that I knew no one at the castle and was merely there on a delivery. I then paused. "I'm curious. Were the guards who took her - did they look like they were from the Drofnats clan?" A gleam of realization finally slowed the shaking man. "Why, now that you say this, I think that this is so - the hawk noses and brittle jaw lines were all like those of the Drofnats.. Is that important?" I hesitated, not wishing to give too much hope to the distraught man. "It might. I doubt if I can do anything, but maybe a priest might know." I nodded politely to the sitting women and rushed away before Migeal could press me for further information. If Lindea had been taken by the conspirators, they must indeed have some need of the gypsies to fulfill the function of the jewels. But why the beautiful, dark-eyed Lindea? Was she in fact the exiled gypsy queen that she claimed? The answer lay somewhere back in the castle, to which I had no reason to think I could gain further access. Or perhaps I did. I raced back to the monastery and plucked my flute from my cell, then raced to the gates of Solstice Castle. I waited until I spotted a guard whom I recognized from the previous night's fest. After a brief explanation, he recalled me. I then told him that Auria, one of the King's concubines (well, I actually called her a maidservant), who had enjoyed my playing had asked me to come around and serenade her, but I had no clue as to which window might be hers. The husky guard's eyes laughed in didain. "Oh, and a mongrel street boy such as you is going to woo the heart of one of the King's ... er, favorites with his flute. Be gone with you, you insolent whelp. You'll not disturb the palace's peace with your whistle, even if the young lady could hear you from her room, unless you wanted to have the carriage horses accompany you. Be off, now!" He swung a lazy attempt at cuffing at me, which I easily ducked, and then I scampered away with a disappointed look. While I hadn't received much cooperation, the guard had at least disclosed a general area of which part of the castle the honey-haired Auria resided in. I tucked the flute into the sash that encircled my waist and went round to the gate leading to the stable. I waited just out of sight of the guards there. After a few minutes, I saw the butcher's small wagon come into view, obviously with a delivery to the kitchens in the castle. As it clattered past, I dashed from behind and sprinted along behind in a deep crouch, so that the wagon would hide me from the guards. As they stopped the butcher, I dove underneath the wagon, grabbing the front axle with my hands and locking my ankles over the rear axle. As the cart continued through the gate, I made body as rigid as possible, pressing it up against the underside of the wagon's bed. Only after we rounded a bend away from the gate could I permit my body to relax. As we pulled past some bushes some fifteen feet from the castle, I dropped my feet and silently slipped to the ground, then rolled to the side of the path. After several servants passed by, I looked up to the overhanging windows and spotted some likely-looking rooms. I stepped out onto the path and began to play my flute softly, of a honey-haired enchantress who had won the heart of a brave but humble warrior, conveying the hair color of the beautiful woman by interspersing her lush description of a beautiful maid with the buzzing sounds of honeybees!) On the lower floors, several disheveled heads of scullery maids peered out the windows at me in astonishment. Breaking off from my tune, assured them that the King had ordered a minstrel to play as a reward for the commendable efforts of the hardworking kitchen and cleaning staffs. The round-faced women looked at me dubiously, but were willing to accept the truth of my words, for their back-breaking efforts certainly were deserving of that much attention, and far more. Besides, if I did not belong, I should not have been permitted within the gates. They opened their window a bit further and returned to their labors. Finally, a dark-haired vision popped up in one of the higher windows: the stunning Onassa. "What brings you here, little flute player?" she called. "I have come to offer my tunes to your comrade in arms: Milady Auria." Onassa started to giggle at my double entendre. "A serenade for a concubine? We're usually not accorded such seductions." "Not exactly. She had asked if I might provide her some lessons with the flute." "We do not usually expect to have tradesmen soliciting for their services within the castle walls. I think the guards must be receiving a portion of your wages to permit such." I looked around quickly but saw no guard. Onassa smiled. "Ahhhh, you are not here under even a guard's concession. Well, I will beckon the aspiring flutist, but I don't expect that she'll wish to risk her lot with a clandestine lesson from a scruffy sort such as you." She left the window, and I crouched back behind the thick bushes, anxiously. This entry was taking longer than I had hoped, and, while the focus of the guards was presumably at the gates to deny entry altogether, it could only be expected that they would have at least some patrols on the grounds. After an eternity, Auria's golden head popped out the window, just as two garden tenders walked by, forcing me to remain hidden. Auria leaned out further to search, and I could see that, at least from the chest and upwards portion of her body which was visible to me, she was clad only in a green towel loosely wrapped around her torso, held in place by her hands. Just as she turned her head back inside, obviously to inquire from Onassa about her caller, I stepped from the bushes. Auria's huge brown eyes grew even larger in surprise, and she squealed, clasping her hands to her lips. The towel immediately slipped from its position, baring her breasts. Ah, soft and full they were, not so large or taut as, say, Lorena's, but magnificently shaped and capped with lightpink nipples - a perfect soft shape that cried out to surrender to a man's sucking mouth. Auria squealed again - engagingly so, I should add - and reached down to pick up the towel. Two female hands - Onassa's - reached around the honey blonde from behind and held her wrists. The darker-haired girl's head popped up over Auria's shoulder. Onassa grinned. "The young man has come up here and braved the guards just to play for you,Auria. Don't you think he's entitled to some entertainment in return?" Auria giggled, squirming to at least cover her chest with her upper arms and elbows butsucceeding only in pushing her mounds together, her nipples peeking out at me impudently. "Milady Auria," I called up in a stage whisper, "I have come to give you the lesson you demanded, if you would have it." Auria's smile widened, but she paused in thought. "Well....," she said slowly, "I was about to practice, so I do not suppose anyone should be too upset if an instructor is with me. But, if you get thrown out, that will be your own affair." "And well worth such a risk and more," I countered, bowing gracefully. Onassa released her hands, and Auria suddenly leaned forward, her hands resting wide on the sill, fully exposing her upper torso to me. "Alright, we'll bring you up through the kitchen, but I wouldn't want you to get any ideas about stealing the silver ... or anything." With that, Auria's smile broadened and she coyly rotated her shoulders, cause her taut breasts to shake at me. My jaw dropped,and Auria turned away from the window with a laugh. I scuttled over to the back entrance to the kitchen. A heavy old scullery maid, red-faced and covered with flour, walked out a few minutes later. She peered at me suspiciously, but dimly."You the new music teacher?" I nodded. "Yeah, well Mistress Onassa sez I'm to bring you up to the music room by servant's stairs. Looking at ya, all scruffy hair, I guess I can see why they don't want you comin' in the front way. C'mon." With that, I followed her wide ass in past the huge kitchen and heavily stocked pantry to a narrow stairway, and walked up three flights of stairs. The old servant was huffing as she got to the top. We went through a side door out into a magnificent hallway. I quickly looked around,trying to get my bearings to see if I could find a safe route by which I could reach Lorena's chamber. If I could, she could probably pass a message to the queen to see if we might find out where Lindea was being held by the assailant, "TN". No guideposts came into view. We stopped in front of ornate double doors. "Whatya lookin' for, young whelp?" The fat servant's florid face eyed me suspiciously. "Oh, just remembering some happier days when I was here before." Her brow creased in confusion; I expected a bead of sweat to pop out, so unused did she seem to the exertion of thought. "Oh, yes, "I was here last year visiting my cousin Lorena, Princess Paleem's lady in waiting. Perhaps you know her - her room I believe is over in the other wing. Big oak door, lots of reddish pillows," I added, describing the room from my visit two nights previously. The servant nodded slowly. "Tell you, what, if you would tell dear Lorena that Cousin Jaze is here in the music room, perhaps she might be free to stop by and offer a greeting." Again, the servant paused. "She and I just love to chat - oh, about life in the castle, and we talk about what she thinks of the various members of the castle staff." I gave the pudgy woman a measured, firm stare. She started,and her wrinkled features softened. "I'd be pleased to pass along to her my views of your own fine service." "Well, I have my duties in the kitchen to attend to; we'll see," she said abrubtly. She nodded toward the open doors, and then turned on her heel and headed back to the stairs.. I stepped through into a large music room, dominated by a huge piano resting at the far end of the room on the light-colored, hardwood floors. Auria, now dressed in a simple, short yellow gown stood inside the door, flute in hand, waiting for me. She smiled shyly. "I am pleased that you have come back to give me my lesson, Master Jaze. I would give most anything to be able to exert the skill that you displayed last night. But, I fear that the room's echos are too harsh for our playing. We have a smaller waiting room for visiting performers that might be more apt. Here, come with me." Auria turned and led me across the room to a dark door. I stumbled dumbly after, entranced by her bewitching ass. We walked into a small chamber, some four paces square. At one end sat a heavy overstuffed couch. On the floor was a thick round rag rug. Opposite the couch were a series of shelves holding various small musical instruments. Air and light came through two small windows looking out into an airshaft. We sat on the couch to commence the lesson. I realized that if we started playing we increased the risk that an official passer-by might question my being there. So, I stalled, starting by examining the grip by which Auria held her flute, taking every opportunity to reach around her and touch her soft hands with my own. She smiled and glanced over at me frequently. I then reviewed her playing posture, pressing her waist and hips frequently, even though she really had no defect in her posture. Playfully, I pretended to try different positions for her, contradicting prior instructions. Again, she giggled, squirming away from me. I asked her to show me her embouchure - the formation of her lips against the intake hole of the flute's mouthpiece. She pursed them with the requisite overbite, and I again gave her unnecessary instruction, showing her my technique on my own flute. She protested, "That's exactly what I'm doing, see?" Again, she demonstrated perfect form. "No, I think you're still not seeing it correctly from your side." Rather than face her, I slid tightly up next to her, my thigh pressing firmly against her own. I held her flute with my hands next to hers, and pulled the mouthpiece to my lips. "Now put your cheek against mine so you cansee exactly what I do." She did so, and I softly uttered a clean, low tone. Passing the mouthpiece to her mouth, I instructed, "Now you." She blew, with the same clear pitch and tone. "Let's do it again." I blew one note higher, and passed the instrument to her. Back and forth we traded, with the pass of the flute occurring with increasing speed. Soon, it became a game, and our lips grew closer together. Finally, we became jumbled, and our lips reached for the single mouthpiece together -- and I dropped the mouthpiece as our lips met one another, pressing firmly. Such softness! Oh, if the flowers could know such softness! Her lips melted into mine with the liquid gentleness of a dove's dream. Our lips clung, and then crept open, as our young tongues escaped to find one another, and play, and tickle, and sweetly sweep across each other. My arm rose and rested on her far shoulder as we turned to face one another on the soft couch. My hand explored the swirl of her neck, then slid down her firm back. She moaned into my mouth, and her hand reached up to clutch the back of my head to pull my face tighter against her. Her lips pulled away, her eyes devilishly searched my own. "Well," she said breathily, "is it true?" "Is what true?" "Is Charel telling the truth when she says you are endowed like one of the King's stallions?" I blanched in shock. "Charel told you this?" "Most certainly. We women of the royal entourage have a great deal of time on our hands and not infrequently compare the attributes of those we are called upon to serve. She was quite complimentary about you." My white face reddened. I stood up quickly. "It sounds as though you're comparing the attributes of a radish, or maybe a market hog." I was not sure I was mad, but felt I had a right to be. "Oh, I've angered you." She looked up at me, and stared down at my loins, now just in front of her. Her hand reached up and lightly pressed her open palm against the lump jutting forth. I had hardly realized that the entrancing beauty had overwhelmed my lustful desires. She smiled and went on. "And I seem to have angered him, as well; poor sweet thing," she cooed. Her soft, full lips moved forward against my fabric-covered loins, pressing against the swell of my burgeoning cock just below the head. I looked down at her sitting in front of me, her honey blonde hair framing her stunning features. The open gather of the neck of her blouse as she leaned to me exposed almost all of her magnificent titflesh. Her lips pulled away briefly, and then again pursed against my breeches, kissing the cloth and the shaft beneath with tender attention. Sitting up, Auria now slid the strap of her gown from her right shoulder, pulling it down herarm, until the yellow bodice descended below one pear-shaped breast. Again I goggled at the fresh, almost innocent swelling of her soft bosom. Auria's finger traced an outline of my cock with tantalizing care, and then she looked up at me, her brown eyes again wrenching conscious thought from me. Her voice became husky. "Would you like me to make amends, my well-hung friend? To offer my apologies?" I was speechless. Without taking her eyes from mine, her hands reached for the buttons descending just below my waistband.They quickly came undone, and she reached inside and lightly curled her fingers around my heated stiff rod. She pulled the heavy flesh out through the opening, my red tip bobbing just inches from her luscious mouth. Auria wrapped her fist around it, allowing only the tip to appear above her hand. Auria's eyes widened and for the first time lowered to cast their gaze upon my sex. Her lips parted in surprise. Her hand gently measured my length by strokingthe loose flesh up and down. "Astonishing!" she hissed. "I think making amends may be more of a task than I imagined. But a pleasant task indeed." With that, she again fixed her eyes upon me, and leaned forward, opening her tender lips slightly. She permitted my swollen cock tip to drop gently on her tongue,and I could see the first drop of pre-cum affix itself to its floor. The sweet lapper then drew back to the very end of my member, and then the two tips met, with her tongue endeavoring to probe inside the small slit at the end of my own. She hastened the pace of her hand's stroking, drawing out more of my leaking seed, which descended onto the tongue in a white string. Her eyes smiled even more warmly than before up at mine. She stopped her stroking with her hand resting around the fleshy collar at the neck of my engorged cock, and then her lips captured the entire reddish helmet underneath her upper lip. My tip soaked passively in the wet furnace of her mouth, until she drew her cheeks in, sucking outfurther of the pre-cum. Her eyes closed only briefly as I saw her adam's apple bob, denoting her swallowing of my anticipatory essence. The brown orbs then re-focused upon my face with adevilish hint of surprises to come. Her face moved forward slowly until her lips reached the end of her grasping hand. Then, both moved forward slowly, as she drew more and more of the thick, hard shaft into her mouth.In it went, and I expected at each instant that she would stop her capturing progress, but she continued to bore on further. I shuddered at the sensation of each succeeding inch being caressed by her soft lips. Her hand reached the base of my cock, but her head continued forward, while her hand flattened against my belly to give her mouth passage. I felt the tip scrape against the back of the roof of her mouth, and then probe at the opening to her throat, with several inches remaining outside of her sucking pink lips. With unwavering gaze upon my flushed features, she continued on,as I felt my tender cocktip enter her throat without pause or panic by her. With a wet smack, her throat absorbed even more, until I had given the beautiful vixen all of my length and her nose was pressed into my belly. After at least five counts of the clock, she finally, reluctantly drew her mouth back - again with maddening slowness - clinging lips squeezing at my blue-veined flesh at each stage. She stopped her ascent with the tip again soaking in her sweet mouth. Her face darted back forward, now quickly garnering my cock's head with her throat, and again incarcerating her prisoner for at least a five-count, before withdrawing. No man could remain impassive during such ministrations by one with the beauty and incredible skill of the stunning Auria. I began to anticipate her movements, and lightly thrust my loins forward. She took me easily down into her throat. I jerked forward some half a dozen times, and felt the rush of fire to my loins, so charged was I by the velvet torture of her talented mouth. To abate my early lust, I reached down and cupped artfully chiseled cheeks of her face and pulled her off my cock. The tip slid gently out of her wet, red mouth and descended her chin, leaving a white sticky trail of saliva and my seed. She arched her neck, and the hard,wet head of my organ bobbed below her chin, finally striking at her exposed right nipple. In a playful fashion, I roughly pushed her straight back onto the sofa and fell to one knee. I cupped my hand around her perfect breast. It indeed was as soft as my mind's eye had imagined, except for the hard, excited nipple. I darted my face forward and took that same tip into my mouth, lapping at the tingling bud. Auria moaned in pleasure, pulling my face harder against herchest. I swirled my tongue around the nipple and flushed aureole. Urgently, I opened my mouth wider and took in even more of the downy soft breast, suckling at it feverishly. As I knelt, my bobbing cock swayed against her slim thigh. As my sucking on her breast continued, I could feel her thighs tremble, and then twitch apart. Needing no further invitation, I dropped my head down between her thighs and pushed the hem of her short gown up toward her waist. Her knees parted further, and, to my surprise, I could see that the little tart had failed to don any undergarment after her shower, leaving her entire sexual region exposed to my feasting eyes. Her lightly-furred lips were swollen with passion, giving off a musty, aqueous air. I parted her labia with my thumbs and pressed my own lips against the flowering opening. She shriekedin pleased surprise. I looked at her quaking torso, over her softly quivering titflesh. Auria's eyes were locked on the scene at her loins, savoring both the image and sensation of my kiss. I allowed my tongue to lightly part her nether lips, and was greeted with a pool of her pussy's lustful emissions. I thrust the lapper deep inside, and wriggled it about against the walls of her sweet tunnel. She shrieked again. My tongue dove in several more times, remaining constantly in motion as it made its passage. Auria responded to each with a moan or keening chirp. Clearly,the maiden was afire with uncontrollable passion. I withdrew my tongue to the opening and ran it up her slit to her clitoris, swollen to solidity by her body's urges. My lips sucked and tugged at the heated node, and then my teeth, safely covered by my lips, nipped gently at it. She threw her hips up against my face with a groan. I tugged twice more and laved at the bud. Her staccato moaning rose to a nearly constant wail. "Oh, Lord, yes, yes, yes!" she managed through her trembling lips. Her thighs swung open and closed against my slavering face. With unexpected force of will, she managed to subside the writhing of her loins and grunt out huskily, "Please... now, I want you in me now!" She then sat up, drawing my chin up with her hand. She then kicked her wide-spread left leg over my head and stood up, and then wrestled me up onto the couch and into a sitting position. My hard cock stood straight up in my lap. The standing girl turned away from me, then pulled her robe's skirt up to her waist, baring her perfect, slim-hipped ass to me. Backing up, she gingerly sat back onto my lap. I guided her down with my hands on her hips and ass. She reached beneath her and grabbed my hard rod. As she sat further, she guided my tip into her wet portals. I slipped in about an inch, and then snagged. She rose up and descended again, constricting me tighter as she forced herself down... and then I burst in. She dropped fully into my lap, encasing me in her wet tightness. With a crooked grin, Auria turned her head and tilted it back to kiss me hungirly. As she did, her loins squirmed in a circle around my fleshy post that impaled her. I held her hips in my hands and increased the radius of her gyrations. She spread her knees so that they rested outside my own, and then leaned forward, resting herhands on my kneecaps. With that leverage and the grasping hands on her hips and ass, she had leverage to rock forward, away from me, and then drop her tight, young succulent channel back down on my filling cock. The hem of her robe drifted down so that it obscured our joined loins. With a groan, she raised again so that my throbbing muscle came almost completely free. Almost immediately, she slammed her slim ass down, smacking audibly onto my loins. Her eyes pressed shut as she concentrated on re-ascending the peak of passion to which my mouth had brought her.From the short, panting breaths that accompanied her vigorous riding of my cock, it seemed that such a moment might not be too far away. I levered against her pumping loins by clutching tightly to her hips and forcing my ownreddened cockshaft heavily up inside her. Her wetness seemed to increase, and it trickled from her juicy cleft down my shaft, pooling in my nether hairs. Implorations to ram into her harder spat out of her pouting, panting lips. The demure young beauty I first had met had since been possessed by the soul of a wanton she-devil. With no further warning. my lover's body tensed above me and her uttered oaths and profanities ceased, replaced by a sustained cry, rising in pitch and volume upon each second's passage. Her body shook, and her hips jerked in four long spasms. The pulsating tugs upon my own lustful organ only confirmed the obvious, her achievment of a stirring orgasm while riding my broad sword. I held her ass more firmly as she shuddered with each new rictus of her coming. Her wailing cries descended to pleased moans, and over her shoulder, I could see her stunning features split in a broad grin. She experimentally brought her ass up one more time, and slid her satisfied quim down again on my cock, obviously testing its rigidity, its capacity for further immediate relief. Suddenly, the door from the main performance room swung open, revealing a shocked Lorena,the beautiful, statuesque lady-in-waiting to Princess Paleem. Rebca, their shorter, dark-haired (and equally beautiful) maidservant peered around her shoulder. Both were wide-eyed at the sight of our two sweaty bodies, locked together at the genitals out of sight beneath the hem of Aurina's skirt. Lorena's features finally began working again, and she broke into a superior sort of grin. "So, if it isn't my long lost 'cousin' Jaze, once again dipping his wick at Solstice Castle, and now with one of the King's concubines." Aurina brushed a stray blonde curl from her own face and slid the strap of her gown back upher right arm, re-covering her sweat-glistened breast. She glared back at Lorena, but made no move to rise from my lap. No one said a word... SOLSTICE CASTLE PART 12 Even though she remained silent, Auria continued to torment my the unrelieved countenance of my soldier ennestled in her by affording it squeezes of strength and control, traveling from one end of my shaft to the other -- all while giving no outward sign to the two lovely intruders! I finally broke the silence, stammering, "Well, you see, Lorena, the lady requested lessons on the flute..." My voice trailed off as I saw the blonde Lorena guffaw; even the demure Rebca silently tittered behind her slim hand. Lorena japed, "I can see that she is receiving whatever lessons you're giving 'on the flute', but I don't see what kind of instruction you could be giving to an experienced harlot." Auria glared at her; Lorena responded in kind. I could sense considerable tension between them, each perhaps resentful of the other. Lorena had considerable education and probably considered herself near-royalty, but was limited largely to contacts with the lady she served, Princess Paleem. Auria, as the King's concubine, was educated largely in those arts that might amuse the King - music, floral arranging, and perhaps, certain sexual amusements - and enjoyed his ear and confidences, but was disparaged by others in the castle as little more than a whore. I protested, "Well, it's more than that, milady. You see, I had to contact the Queen to apprise her of what I've learned regarding the conspiracy to steal the jewels from the Prime Minister, and this was the only means by which I could gain entry." Auria's head whipped around, her venom now directed at me. "What, pray tell is this? I was merely your ruse to enter the castle??!! You vile little ass!" The honey-haired woman jerked her hips forward while her inner muscles clenched at my member, nearly ripping the beleaguered fellow by his roots. She then leaped to her feet, her gown's short hem maintaining her modesty by falling to her thighs. She whirled, and stung me with a slap to my cheek. She stormed by Lorena, paused as thought she were about to also slap the taller blonde, and then flounced through the door. I remained seated, stunned, with my still-stiff, cunt-wetted rod jutting toward the ceiling through my unbuttoned breeches. Lorena looked at me disdainfully, and then turned to the cameo-featured brunette. "Rebca, dear, would you please aid this pervert in re-arranging himself as befits one in the presence of ladies?" Rebca nodded obligingly and fell to her knees before me. She grasped my thick, sticky cock in her slim fingers, the tips barely meeting around my thickness. Before attending to her task, she gently jacked me up and down, coyly looking up at me beneath lowered lashes. Lorena interrupted, "No time for playing, now, Rebca; and heaven knows he doesn't deserve it." Rebca sighed regretfully and tucked my manhood back inside my trousers, re-buttoning them with not a little effort over the bulge created. Lorena plopped herself next to me on the couch, while Rebca curled up on her haunches on the floor. "Now, you little fool, tell me what makes you think that the Queen would have the slightest interest in anything you would have to tell her about the theft of the jewels. Anyway, Rebca seems to have been cleared of suspicious, so I don't see whey we need to get involved at all." "It's not that simple," I replied. "If the Prime Minister awakes from his injured state, which could happen at any time, he could re-count that he saw a young man who had no business in the castle at the door to your chambers - with Rebca - at the time of the attack. This certainly would shed a new light that might return suspicion to her, and me. Besides, the Queen has expressly asked us to look into this matter; we have a very special commission." Lorena looked at me doubtfully, and then glanced at Rebca, who lowered her eyes and blushed. "What is this special commission? You don't mean...?" I shrugged meaningfully; Rebca's head dropped even further. Lorena's jaw dropped. I could see the wheels working in the ambitious blonde's head: if she could somehow share in our obviously intimate relationship with the Queen, her own stature in the castle would be enhanced. She set her jaw and looked at me sternly, "Well, I will pass your message, if I can get through to the Queen - but if she insists she knows you not, I will look the utter ass, and will make you pay!" Lorena stood and turned to Rebca. "You stay and deflect any visitors to make sure Jaze isn't discovered. And, would you two please not be naked when I get back?" Lorena rolled her eyes, as though lecturing mischievous children, and left the music room. I assisted Rebca onto the couch, where she huddled against me. I placed my arm around her shoulder. The mute beauty looked up into my eyes expressively. Her gaze told of much she wished she could tell, if only she had the ability to speak. She impulsively leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, a sign of gratitude for my efforts to clear her from suspicion, I supposed. We remained there, voicelessly consoling one another with our arms wrapped around each other, until we heard footsteps just minutes later. I huddled in the corner while Rebca peered out the door. She stepped aside as Queen Serjeen strode through the doorway, with Lorena in her wake. The Queen, a tall, dark beauty with features chiseled as if by the greatest of sculptors, eyed me with not a little awe. "Well, my wild young friend, it seems as though you have an infinitely varied capacity for breaching the castle's security. How did you manage it this time?" Lorena coughed, "I'm sure Your Majesty has no desire to hear such a boring tale." I blushed for the second time. The Queen looked at me inquiringly. I bowed and replied, my words tumbling over one another in a panic. "Well, Your Highness, it seems that the mysterious assailant bears the initials TN and has - if you will accept my word with only the utmost of respect for His Highness intended - he has been in some contact with the King. And, I fear the for some reason he and his Drofnats legion has taken the castle's laundress, a reputed Gypsy Queen named Lindea, as his hostage." I then explained in some more detail the note I'd found in the King's tent at the revels in which this "TN" reported something about "legitimate heirs not all dead" and "not enough jewels to be sure" and "all holders must concur, but expect trouble from church and gypsies." The queen stared vacantly in thought. "Hmmm. This TN must be Thaddeo Novan, a military administrator who I'd always thought bore more loyalty to himself and his fellow Drofnats than he did to the King. As for jewels, it seems they bear importance beyond their mere value as baubles on crowns. I have heard tales in the past of powers that might be possessed if a mass of certain ancient jewels were amassed and controlled, but all thought the stories to be apocrophyl, even if all such gems might be found. The myths insist that they were scattered to the far corners of the lands. My husband seems to have been spending a considerable amount of time with Thaddeo, which I could not understand, as he is such a dreadful, macabre man." Serjeen began pacing. "This could be very serious. We have no way of knowing who can be trusted. I suppose we can at least check out the southwest corner of the lower basement of the castle, as that seems to be the lair of the Drofnats soldiers who are part of our castle guard. The three of you had best come with me; Jaze, you look enough like you could be a footman assigned to assist me." The Queen then strode out the door, not stopping to see if we were following her. We scrambled after her in pursuit. For the first time, I could stride the halls of the castle without skulking around or diving into doorways at the first sign of a guard. Being with the Queen, watching all we passed bow low with respect, was extraordinarily heady. Still, I could not forget the dangerous, critical mission we were undertaking, one in which even the Queen was in the dark. At the two long hallways, we came to a heavy door that led to dimly lit steps the the basement. From there, we traversed two further hallways until we came to a dimly lit room, beyond which we could see a further, intersecting hallway. The Queen turned to us and motioned us to silence, bidding us to stay where we were. She went to the corridor and headed down it to our right. The three of us - Lorena, Rebca and I - peeked around the corner. We saw the Queen stop in front of a closed door guarded by a short, hairy guard - clearly a Drofnats. The man clearly was not of the King's elite, he was ill-shaven and his uniform bunched unceremoniously around his sloppy girth. The guard clumsily bowed in surprise. Serjeen impatiently bid him rise. "Good eve, Guard. I would enter this room, if you will make way." The guard's eyes opened wide, and he began visibly sweating and stammering. "I would grant that wish ... or any wish ... of your majesty, but, you see, the tradition of the Drofnats is that none may enter when our religious rites are performed and ... with the highest of respect to Your Highness, but.. I can't!" His response rose almost to a wail. "Guard, you will find your captain and obtain such leave. Do I make myself clear?" The stumpy man began shifting from foot to foot in panic. "All the captains are inside, uh... praying your highness, and I cannot interrupt them. Could you come back in an hour; I'm sure they'll be done then?" The Queen stared at the little man, and stormed away, back towards us. Coming into the small room, she whispered hoarsely, "Well, of all the nerve. I'm sure there's something going on in there; the Drofnats' religion isn't THAT important to them. We've got to get past that dimwit. Lorena, I want you to go down and lure that man away from the door; use whatever wiles you require." Lorena grimaced uncomfortably. "Wiles, milady? What would I have to offer to him to move him away from..." Her breath caught. "You mean, you want me to suggest to that fat, filthy little guard that I might be willing to...?" Serjeen's voice was sharp. "I don't want you to suggest anything, you self-important tramp. I want you to march down there, open his tunic, and take his cock into your less-than-pristine mouth until we can get past him." Lorena sputtered. "But Your Highness! Surely you cannot expect this from an educated lady-in-waiting to your own daughter, the Princess! What about Rebca?" "She's mute, you idiot. How will she explain her purpose here to him." "But surely there's someone else?" Lorena looked hopefully at me. I shrugged, "I fear that I am not his type, milady. Lorena glanced at the Queen, who scalded her with a look conveying the idiocy of her unspoken suggestion. With a bitter sigh, Lorena turned the corner and walked up to the guard. He looked at her suspiciously, but not without undisguised lust. The Drofnats were not known for the sophistication of their attitudes toward women. Coquettishly, Lorena looked down at the man, trying to convey submissiveness notwithstanding her heighth advantage. "Oh my, I am lost here. I just love exploring this old castle but I seem to have become lost." "You sure are lost; 'tis no way that a woman should be here in the realm of the Drofnats soldiers. We should have you in shackles for even being here. In fact, I may have to hold you until my captain comes out from his conference in here." The guard chuckled meaningfully, as though he had just figured out how he might while away the time with the tall, high-titted blonde as his temporary captive. "Oh, please, sir. I was causing no trouble here. I certainly wouldn't want to embarass my Lady by getting into trouble here. In fact, I would do anything to avoid it." Lorena's long lashes lowered modestly. The guard seemed lost in thought at the significance of her statement. To cut short his confusion, Lorena reached down and reached under his tunic, obviously rubbing his bulge that lay beneath it. "Perhaps I can find a way to make this problem... ease a little?" The guard nodded hopefully in response. With a grimace, the tall blonde dropped to her knees in front of the guard. She reached under his tunic with both hands and pulled his brief *ketchel* - or undergarment - down his thighs. Lifting up the tunic's hem, Lorena exposed his thick but short organ, which impudently poked out at her. She clutched it roughly in her right hand and yanked at it. He sighed gutturally and closed his eyes. With obvious hope that nothing more would be required. Lorena began stroking the shaft's loose flesh up and down with her long, tapered fingers. The guard's fat hips jerked up against her hand. She reached up with her left hand and cupped his hairy balls, then lifted and caressed them to hasten his release. "Lord, yeah, you wench. That is a gift from the goddesses themselves!" Spittle dripped out of his blubbery lips as he exclaimed his release. She stroked faster, and the fat guard's breathing grew heavier. Suddenly his eyes sprung open, and the Queen motioned that we should slip down the hall with her as he was fully distracted at the time of his release. Just as quickly, we stopped, as his wide-eyed alertness signaled nothing more than the onset of an idea. The piggy eyes looked down at Lorena. "Hey, Wench" - it now seemed to be her official name, in his eyes - "you can do me better than that!" He bent over and roughly grabbed the shoulders of her gown, ripping them down almost to her waist, bringing her large, high breasts into view. His face grew red in excitement, and he grabbed the jutting orbs, squeezing them painfully. Straightening up, he grabbed a hank of Lorena's blonde tresses in each hand, pulling to either side. She quickly sensed his implicit command, as she parted her lips slightly. The guard backed away with his hips, as though cocking an arrow on a bow, and then rammed forward, driving the stumpy organ into her pink mouth. She grunted in astonishment and alarm, futilely trying to control his entry with the hand by which she held his cudgel. "Holy sheep days, Wench," he spewed, causing us to be grateful to the Gods that we were not born as sheep in Drofnats, whatever may have been intended to be conveyed by his oath. "It's been so long since I've been with any woman, and Lord you are the sexiest one ever." He continued his lurching onto her mouth, fully removing his thick cock on each outstroke with an audible smack as it left Lorena's lips, and then driving it back in, nearly reaching her throat. "When I blast, you might well drown, ya got me so worked up." On his next instroke, he held his loins and dirty pubic hair right up against Lorena's nose. She glanced over to where she could see the three of us peeking around the corner, glaring daggers at us in her discomfort. The Queen motioned with a twirl of her hand that she should position herself so as to turn the guard's back to both us and the door. Lorena did so with some difficulty, as the wild pumping of the guard's loins threatened to pitch her to the side. She remained kneeling only because the heavy-set man held her up painfully by the hair clutched in his hands. After three more strokes, he began to bellow like a wounded animal and increase the length of his strokes. Lorena's bared breasts bobbed and jerked on her chest. She manfully tried to survive the assault on her mouth by the uncouth simpleton, moaning in time to each stroke. She tried to grasp the base of his cock when it next emerged from her mouth, trying to use her hand as a stopper to minimize the depth of his entry, but he summarily swatted her hand away and drove even further into her maw. The Queen again motioned us to follow her, and we crept down the hall toward the oddly matched couple. As we got closer, we could hear his refraining murmur, "Gotta spew, gotta spew it," and then, just as we slipped behind him, he grunted hoarsely like a farm pig. I glanced down just in time to see his still pumping cock emit a heavy stream from the tip, blasting straight into Lorena's open mouth. The tip and cock followed it in, and then emerged covered with her saliva and his own spend. He pushed forward again, but so wildly that he missed her mouth and so his next white blast struck off her cheeks. He continued to pump and shoot his sticky cream, some of it into her gaping mouth and throat, and some in cascades on her lips, chin and chiseled cheek bones. I felt a tug at my sleeve. The Queen was pulling me into the doorway. I threw up the latch there as quietly as I could, glancing back to make sure that the still spewing guard was not paying us attention. Sure enough, his head remained thrown back as his seed cascaded over the arrogant blonde's features. The three of us slipped inside the door, and were greeted by an astonishing sight. In the torchlit room, we could see an elderly crone, long grey hair askew, kneeling on the floor, chains linking her wrists and ankles. She was surrounded by three other Drofnats guards, each holding a large club. Above her, chained to the wall, was the lovely gypsy Lindea. Her simple frock was nearly shredded by the slashes of a whip. Though angry red cuts and welts were visible through the rends of her clothes, the indomitable, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman retained a fiery, confident countenance. In front of her was the object of her fury - and her whip-bearing torturer. His face turned toward us and smoldered in recognition and anger. I gasped. Finally, I was face-to-face with the green cloaked assailant. SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 13 I barely abated the quaking that stirred within my spine from the glare of this man. His dark eyes glimmered with the sheen of the carapace of a poisonous thayl bug. Those eyes had seen evil; in fact their possessor had ordered its commission, and enjoyed the view. His thick, trimmed beard obscured but did not hide his thick-lipped slash of a mouth. His demeanor lightened slightly, obeisantly as his gaze swiveled to the face of the Queen. "Ahh, Your Majesty," he croaked in an oily tone. "You will forgive me if I do not ask you to stay, but I am about the King's business, and the presence of the Queen would not be appropriate." He turned to the nearest guard. "Lanceman Walesh, if you would be so kind as to escort Her Highness upstairs, and please be sure to assist her as some dampness can collect and make the stairs treacherous." Queen Serjeena did not move. "I do not recall that the King's business has involved the torture of young girls, Thaddeo Novan. And I will not leave until there is some convincing explanation for this!" Novan sighed theatrically. "Your Highness, this gypsy wench and her people represent a threat to the continued reign of your husband, and I am merely seeking information. The King is fully aware of the threat and approves of these steps." "My husband would not approve of such tactics! You are lying, Novan." Novan sighed more heavily, as though confronting a wayward child. "Very well. Lanceman, if you will please go up and advise His Majesty that his wife is here and wishes a fuller explanation of our efforts to protect his throne." The guard hesitated. Novan shooed him away, urging, "Go ahead - he will come." The young guard hurried off. Just after the guard slipped through the doorway, two other guards came in, gently guiding the prince and princess - Phrenshraw and the lovely, red-haired Paleem. Lorena, looking only somewhat disheveled, came in behind, wiping her face with the back of her hand; I could not suppress my grin at her predicament, to which she responded with a mouthed epithet apparently likening me to some part of my hindquarters. Phenshraw looked confused, and then grew angry as he saw the stunning Lindea (whose tryst with him in the laundry room several nights earlier I had interrupted) chained to the wall. Paleem appeared stunned, and not a little guilty. Her eyes refused to meet mine, but she did not appear suprised to see me. A skinny, round-shouldered soldier, the taller of the two, stepped around them and addressed Novan. "Your Eminence, these two were lurking outside the door. I thought it best that you knew." Paleem turned to Serjeena, "Mother, I saw a scullery wench beckon Lorena to meet Jaze, and well, interesting things seem to happen around him. I brought Phrenshaw with me to see for himself... and, well, I was told you were all headed down here." Novan squinted as if in thought, and finally smiled. "Yes, I suppose it would be best if your children were here as well - to discover how much they too might have to lose." Suddenly, the pieces seemed to fall into place, guided by the minimal explanation given me by the Queen. I stepped forward. "So, Mr. Novan," I sneered. "You have somehow garnered enough of the jewels, and, with the coerced assistance of Lindea, have uncovered some information with which you are ... perhaps, blackmailing King Abret." The Queen turned to Novan. "I believe young Jaze may be onto something. What is the power of these jewels and how are you using them?" A rasping croak erupted from the floor. The old crone rose gingerly and walked over to the Queen, stopping briefly to glare at Novan with hatred. "I will tell you of these jewels, Your Majesty. For they caused the ruin of my people, the gypsy people." The Queen nodded, and the old woman continued. "It has been passed down from generation to generation, this story, few believing its literal truth. I know now it was not simply some legend. In the olden days, our land knew of wizards of modest but benevolent power, with which they could create animals of grace and beneficience and birds with a song to move the meanest of hearts, and keep the rivers clean and the crops plentiful. "To enhance their powers, a convocation of all the world's wizards and the finest of craftsmen of precious jewels - all of whom were gypsies - was called. They assembled a store of the few truly precious gemstones in our land and carved and embued them with tremendous powers to see sights from both faraway lands and long distant times, as well as to control the powers of nature and even the minds of men. The priests were brought in to bless this undertaking, to suffuse their magic with the purpose of serving God and the deity's creations. "Alas, at this time the old King, an ancestor of Abret and you two children", she added, nodding weakly at Phenshraw and Paleem, "suddenly passed away - many suspected poison - and his sole heir was a boy of only three. So, a regent was selected to govern until the boy was of age. The man chosen, Jackur, was a monster, from Drofnats." The woman spat out the last word, as though to rid her tongue of the taste of its speaking. "Jackur had designs on the kingdom's powers and sought to turn the wizard's magic to his own uses. Knowing the beast's plans, the mages wisely refused and dispersed the jewels to many corners of the kingdom, although the regent seized some of them and stored them in the castle. To prevent their misuse, the stones' magic was altered so that it could be fully used only in the presence of a high priest, a king or queen of the gypsies, and the king or queen of the kingdom. In revenge, Jackur then had the wizards slain and the gypsies driven into exile. To impede the perpetuation of the power of the priests, he decreed that they should forever after remain celibate." I broke in. "And somehow, Novan, you have collected most of the dispersed jewels, and were trying to force Lindea, who you believe - as do we - to be the rightful heir to the throne of the gypsies, to aid in your use of the jewels." Novan's head snapped to me and his eyes roared in pained contempt. "Who is this ignorant young whelp and how did he get into this castle? What did he do, sleep with every woman in the castle?" A sudden silence descended on the room. Novan did not seem to understand its significance, but Paleem stood straight and looked around. She looked not at Lorena and Rebca, and I suddenly knew for sure that it was Paleem who had spied on the three of us in our initial tryst in Lorena's bedchamber several nights before. Paleem's eyes lit on her mother's face; Serjeen flushed slightly. "Mother??!!", the young girl cried. Phenshraw's gaze turned toward Lindea, whose dark beautiful features softened in guilt. "Lindea?" Her refusal to meet his eyes was all the confirmation he needed. The Queen broke the tableau, muttering unconvincingly, "Don't be silly, dear." I looked for a quick exit from the room, but the stern visage of the guard nearest the door quelled any such thoughts. Just then, the King burst through the doorway, raggedly dressed in a wrinkled blouse with shirttails askew and his breeches only half fastened. The Queen glared at him, and I could only speculate that he and the youthful blonde triplets with whom he had dallied the previous night had been interrupted in yet another visit to the oceanic fantasy I had weaved for them. Abret stopped as if struck in the forehead. His eyes slowly scanned the room, while his face changed expression at each stage - as he espied his wife, his children, his laundress in chains, me (albeit receiving the least of his attention), the old crone, and - finally - his apparent confidant. "Thaddeo," he roared, "what is the meaning of all of this?" The assailant's voice increased in its insincere greasiness. "Your Highness, your family and their scruffy retainers unfortunately have descended as by surprise upon the Drofnats' private quarters. They have interrupted the interrogation of which you and I spoke last eve. If you would reassure these well- meaning but misdirected members of your family that I am indeed carrying out the business of the throne and ask them to retire elsewhere, I would be quite grateful." Serjeen strode over to the King, sneering at his incriminating dishevelment. "What is this? You agreed that this inhuman creature could put the whip to a laundress? I will not stand for it." Abret's features softened placatingly. "Dear, there are serious threats about which you do not know. We - Thaddeo and I - are addressing them. Please do not ask further." The dark-haired queen rose to her toes, and I realized that at her full extension she was ever the equal in height to her husband. "I fucking well will ask further!" An audible gasp rose from the guards and the Princess, for none had known any queen to use such language. Her stare pierced at Abret's soul. His eyes dipped, and then he lowered his shoulders in defeat. "Thaddeo," he murmured, "bring out the jewels and show them." The beak-nosed man strode to a table next to the still- chained Lindea and opened a box. He motioned to the skinny guard, who unlocked Lindea's chains and pushed her over to stand next to the table, her hands still shackled. I remain astonished at the captivating, regal beauty and self-possessiveness which she conveyed. In the box, I could see the mezmerizing brilliance of a collection of bright-colored stones of all hues. Novan carefully spilled the contents onto the table. Shimmering gusts of sparkle, of colors, of, for want of a better term, *magic* cascaded throughout the pile. Novan looked up triumphantly, grinning. "I have almost all the stones here. With the assistance of the King and at least the presence of Ms. Lindea here, we can read many things of the past. Most of these we wish to know, and others we would prefer others not to know. Come closer know, as the visions are not altogether clear in that we do not have the full roster of those who should attend." The royal family stepped closer to the table. Lorena, Rebca and I - being of lesser station - remained behind them. Novan mumbled some incantation of guttural words, and a tableau appeared above the table. It appeared to display two figures about as tall as my arm is long - a man and a woman. It was an astonishing feat, these figures appearing in the middle of the gloomy air of the dungeon, as though they were shadows projected on a wall, but in full color and in all dimensions. I craned my head to the side, and my view of them changed as though I was indeed walking around a couple of dolls. Still, the vision wavered, as though viewed under the surface of a running brook. Abret took on the air of a carnival barker. "These two are Disproul - Abret's cousin - as she was some eighteen years ago; the man is some unknown person, a peasant perhaps, whose features we cannot make out. As you will see, Disproul will engage in some activity one would not expect from the unmarried niece of a king." At that, Paleem, ever the observer of all things salacious, crowded closer to the table for a better look, leaving me room next to her to gain a better vantage. I stepped up and the figures became markedly clearer. The man was revealed to be a strapping, lantered-jaw, athletic fellow of about thirty-five. The woman, in her late twenties, had light brown hair and striking, firm features. Novan's eyebrows raised in apparent surprise. Abret gasped in surprise. "I knew that man. He was... No, it is impossible. He wouldn't...." The king left the man's identity unspoken. The couple bore a vague familiarity to me as well, but I could not place their faces to save my soul. The couple was embracing heatedly. She wore a short, light blue gown, from which long, athletic legs emerged. The man wore a long dark robe, almost a cassock such as those I had seen visiting church dignitaries wear. Suddenly, his strong hands grasped the front of Disproul's gown and kneaded her breasts through the thin garment; her excited nipples pressed against the fabric exposed between his fingers. After a moment, his hands grasped the top of her robe and gracefully pulled it below her firm breasts. Her arms snaked around his neck and pulled his face to hers, where their lips dueled in a passionate kiss. Paleem squeeked in surprise and not a little excitement; her brother, Prince Phrenshaw emitted out a long, low whistle, which drew a rebuking glance from the king. Serjeena shook her head, muttering, "I don't think the children should be watching such carnality," but made no further move to banish them from the room, paralyzed as she was by her shock at seeing the tableau floating above the table. Lorena and Rebca glanced at each other and pushed forward to view this taboo sight for themselves. Just then, sounds began to emerge from the couple in the scene, sounds readily identified as the sort of panting and sweet implacations of a couple lustily enjoying the fruits of one another's body. "Oh, Andis," her voice cried in tones that were no less regal for her passionate endeavors. "I know we shouldn't but, oh God I love the feel of you, and your strength." The King glanced at Novan and accused, "I did not know you could elicit the sounds of the event." Novan shrugged, "I was not aware of this myself. Somehow, our powers with the jewels increase. Perhaps with more than one member of your family here, the use of the jewels is enhanced." The man, Andis, a name that also tickled the back of my mind, quieted her with a kiss. In a voice of great timbre and obvious power, he admonished, "Hush, my sweet princess, we should not be using His name, and have so little time." He gently lay her on the ground or floor - one could not see the surface on which they rested. Andis dropped his head to the beautiful woman's breast and began suckling voraciously. As he did, he slid the gown down over her slim hips and down her thighs, revealing her flat stomach and light-brown pubic hair. His left hand slid over Disproul's stomach and cupped her mons. Her slender thighs sprung open willingly, granting him entrance. I could see his strong hand rub at her flowering cleft, and as her hips began writhing, his middle finger probe at the parted lips and then forcefully enter her. Her hips jerked up to capture his digit, pressing herself against the base of his hand. Andis sawed in and out of her, bringing her to even greater passion. Her loins rocked mildly from side to side, as though in a dance, but the clenching of her thigh muscles revealed the nearness of her completion at his hand. With a muffled scream, her head darted forward and clasped his thick, dark hair between her teeth, and her hips jerked up and locked against fingers. It was apparent to all watching that her climax was upon her. Our room was filled with the sounds of our own heavy breathing, almost matching the loud breathiness of the stunning Disproul. As her spasms subsided, she reached up and pulled at her lover's collar. "Come now, my love," she pleaded. "We have limited ourselves to play for too long. Come and take me, at least this once. The future is too uncertain to leave ourselves with regrets for consummations that we have let elude us." When the man hesitated, Disproul wrestled with the collar and the buttons descending the front of his gown. She pulled it away from him, exposing a pale but heavily muscled, slim body. He was wearing a loose undergarment, a sort of short pair of pants, which was bulging obscenely with his own arousal. He looked down at the tented garment, as though surprised himself at the presence of this creature within. Disproul leaned forward and wrestled the short undergarment over his hips, carefully drawing it over the tip of his stiff member. Her cry of, "Oh my lord!" coincided with the gasps of the women present: Serjeena, Paleem, Lorena, and Rebca, and even the shackled Lindea. Even though the figures were in miniature, perhaps one-fourth of their normal size, it was readily apparent that the man's cock was huge, larger than any I had seen displayed at the orgiastic festival the previous night. Disproul grabbed the giant shaft and began to work her hand up and down its length, causing the essence of his seed to trickle out the tip and coat her fingers. "My love," she cried huskily, "I can claim no great experience in the dimensions of men, but this far surpasses what I might have hoped to enjoy from you or any man. Please, impale me with your sword now!" Disproul again lay supine with her legs spread wide for her handsome lover. He awkwardly lay atop her and allowed her to guide his mammoth cock to the entrance to her tunnel. As the tip parted her flowering lips, instinct took command and his hips pushed forward. "Please, Your Grace," she protested with a wince. "Take your time, as it may take a moment to accomodate you." Andis nodded and moved back, resting the cock head just inside her. He pressed forward more slowly, and then withdrew. When Disproul smiled, he renewed the motion with a hairsbreadth more force. He was clearly making headway in his efforts. With five more insertions, each incrementally further than its predecessor, the man slipped all the way into her. Disproul's smile changed to an open-mouthed gasp, stretched as she was. Still, she encouraged him on, raising her hips in invitation. Resting his weight on his outstretched arms, Andis began rocking back in forth in that eternal motion enjoyed by passion-joined lovers. Disproul raised her knees to ease her accomodation of him. He smiled down at her warmly. "I hope that I somehow am bringing you comfort, my sweet lady." She grinned back, to the extent she could through the cunt- stretching sweet torture of her impalement. "My love, you are bringing me pleasure beyond my ability to described, and heightened as it is by my love for you." I could see tears of joy well in her eyes, and then Andis' face descended to hers in a kiss borne more of true love than of simple passion. Still locked in the kiss, Andis' hips increased the tempo of their lunges into her. Disproul locked her ankles together behind his ass and urged him to yet greater speed. After only a few moments, their lurching turned into a frenzied coupling, their loins slamming into one another. With a strangled cry of "Yes, my love!", Andis held his hips to the loins of his lover, and one could almost see him jet his seed into the slender beauty. Her own explosion was just as obvious, but quieter, as she smiled into his dark eyes, panting through her finish. As their storm subsided, their loving kiss resumed. Novan swept through the tableau with his hand and muttered another foreign phrase that we did not understand. The tableau slowly faded from view. All eyes in the room, save Novan's, were glazed in astonishment - even those of King Abret, who I had understood had seen this scene before. Apparently, his previous viewings were without the clarity afforded on this occasion. Queen Serjeena spoke up, her glinting eyes giving away her own excitement at watching the fornicating couple. Yet, her voice remained calm. "Very well, Novan, you have through this magic shown us my husband's long-dead cousin trysting with a man..." "And quite an impressive one!" Lorena piped up. "Oh, shut up, girl!" the queen admonished; the blonde blushed and backed away. "So what is your point in showing us this?" Novan smiled, as though in triumph. "Well, Your Highness, it seems that as a result of this assignation, poor Disproul found herself with child. Her scandalized family sent her off to the Berkan Islands to have her child, to hide their shame." "Some three years later, old King Wherel passed away without any direct heirs. So, it was left for the sitting cardinals to choose among the most direct heirs for the occupant of the throne. There were two candidates: his sister's son, young Prince Abret, to whom you had been married several years earlier. The other candidate was his brother's daughter Disproul, and a messenger was sent to tell her of the King's death so that she might return to stake her claim to it, if she chose. "If she were to return, she would have had a very strong claim. Of course, the preference is to place a male on the throne where all other factors are of equal weight. Here, however, she might well have been granted the throne if she had sought it, as she was older than Abret, and exceedingly smart and talented, even musically so. The conventional view of your husband at that time, by contrast, was that he was a pleasant and well meaning young man, but not particularly bright or responsible, inclined as he was to savor the more hedonistic pleasures of life." Abret raised his head as though to protest, but remained silent. "With this in mind, we come to the events that make it crucial for you to not interfere with the plans that I have made with the King's approval. We will now display a scene of a ship tossed about on the waves one sunny afternoon. On this ship was one Disproul and the twins that she bore as a result of her impetuous afternoon with the..." Novan broke off, as he espied the King standing there, shaking his head, his eyes staring at the jewels on the table. "What is it, Your Majesty?" Novan beseeched. "I had no idea; no idea at all," the sovereign muttered through his dark beard. He looked up guiltily. "That man, Andis, the one who fathered Disproul's children - he was the Cardinal for all of our country...." SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 14 The King's announcement had a varied effect upon those of us in the room. Novan looked shocked. Most of the others looked startled at the thought that a cardinal should have fathered a child by a princess, but did not seem nearly as stunned as Abret himself. After all, this event had occurred some eighteen years before. I of course had heard of Andis from the brothers in the monastery in which I lived; a man annointed as the cardinal at a young age would by any standards be a legend among the clergy. As I recall being told, he had opted to renounce the mantle of leader of the faith many years before, though none would admit even knowing why he would have taken such a step. As the brothers related, Andis had served as a simple country friar for several years in the wilds of the uncivilized forests, where he ultimately had succumbed to one of the illnesses prevalent in the forested regions. His body now lay in the cemetery of the monastery. The ghostly tableau re-formed itself above the dungeon table on which the multi-colored jewels rested. Now, we watched a sunrise at sea, with two ships in view, the smaller of which appeared to be overtaking the larger. The scene shifted to what seemed to be the smaller and older of the two vessels. Three men were standing in a cabin, the dried, graying wood suggesting that the ship had been long used and little maintained. A husky, young man with a dark beard sat while two slender men stood at attention before him. The sitting man turned his head, and we could see it was a younger version of King Abret himself. All in the room watching the figures floating above the table, save the King and Novan, gasped in surprise. In the tableau, Abret looked up with a pained, weak look on his face. "Now, you two make sure that her boat is diverted by your men to Badger's Isle and left there for at least two weeks. By the time she can return, the cardinals will have selected me for the throne, and they would not dare rescind the selection and coronation, as times are unsettled enough as they are. And, do not harm her - or anyone else at least so far as you can help it - as Disproul is, after all, a princess." The standing men nodded. One stepped forward into the light of Abret's cabin's lantern, revealing himself to be a gaunt, beetle-browed native of Drofnats. "As you wish, Prince Abret ... or should I say to get into the practice, Your Majesty. All the same, you should remain below, for it would not do to have your cousin recognize you. This should appear to be mere piracy, and nothing more." The scene in the tableau faded, as Thaddeo Novan again swept his hand through the figures. I glanced over at the King, who was nodding absently, as though confirming for himself the events that transpired. Queen Serjeen appeared beside herself with rage; Phrenshaw and Paleem looked merely stunned. Novan smiled ruefully, as though witnessing the putting down of an injured horse. "So you see, my visitors, there was a little scheme - some high stakes castle politics - that assured Abret the kingdom and allows you to live as the royalty you are. Unfortunately, Princess Disproul's ship somehow was lost on the way to the island where it was to be delayed, and she never did appear to congratulate her cousin at his coronation. I trust you all realize the importance to you of keeping his participation in such a plan a secret, as the cardinals and the populace might not view the current royal family with such affection if they became aware of such manipulation of the throne." Serjeen's anger and disgust was tangible. "Novan," she barked, "I would see more of this event. Please do whatever you must to place these ships and that day back before our eyes." Novan simply shrugged helplessly. "Your Highness, I am afraid that I cannot. I am no wizard. It is only by luck and numerous unsuccessful trials that I have, with the aid of some ancient texts, been able to bring before you these few events. I cannot control the jewels so as to continue the story." The Queen looked skeptical, but obviously could think of no way to catch the dark-eyed man in his untruth. I blurted, "Perhaps someone else can do so." All eyes turned to me, and I flushed at the intensity of the emotions stirring in the room, now directed at me. I turned to Lindea, who remained standing beside the table, her dressed still shredded so as to expose much of her smooth, tawny skin, including the hint of the areole of her generous, firm left breast. Her hands were still shackled, joinded by a thick, rust encrusted chain. "Lindea - if you indeed are the rightful monarch of the gypsies, you should by the powers you inherited have control over the jewels. Concentrate on the scene that we just witnessed and see if you can continue its recital." Lindea stared at me as though I had just requested that she grow wings and fly from the castle, but stepped up to the table slowly. Novan snorted in disgust and looked around to see if others shared his belief that this effort was doomed to futility, but all eyes were locked on the dusky beauty, mesmerized by her proud carriage and her determined and fiery dark eyes. Lindea closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. After a few seconds, she released her breath in frustration and looked at me with pleading eyes. "Master Jaze, I sense much of the power of the jewels, but without practice or guidance, I do not see how I can direct my thoughts to create a picture of what you seek to see." Novan threw his hands up. "You see, she has no powers. I think we are just not going to be able to see..." The King broke in, "Yes, I think Thaddeo has a point, as it seems that the maid just can't..." Serjeena waved him to silence and peered into his guilt- riddled eyes. "Abret, my husband" -- the last word almost spat in mocking disdain - "if you wish to continue as an ally of my father and his subjects, you will not interfere." The Queen nodded for me to continue. I bent and stared into the eyes of the lovely gypsy. "Lindea, you can bring it to us if you concentrate on those events, on that day and hour. Remember the two boats, and the woman we know to be on the larger of the two. Feel the cool morning sea air tugging at the cloaks of the crewmen." Lindea closed her eyes, and soon smiled in satisfaction. A flicker of blue ocean and white sails appeared above the jewels. Phrenshaw cried out, "Yes, I think you've just about managed it." I continued describing the scene - its sights and likely smells. Seized with a sudden inspiration, I began wordlessly singing - little more than humming - the tale as though playing my flute. I sang of creaking masts' timbers and crashing waves, of the sailors' chanties, of the hopes of returning to ones' homeland, and of the joyous faces of children upon finally meeting their father. Suddenly, the tableau sharpened, and we were given a view of an interior ship's cabin, obviously from the larger and newer of the two boats. In a well-furnished cabin, the still-beautiful Disproul, clad in a heavy gown to ward off the sea's chill, sat up in the cramped berth and swung her legs over the edge. She glanced back at two small forms nestled under the thick quilt, and then lightly leaped from the bed. Cries erupted, apparently from the deck above her head. This scene too faded. I looked over at Lindea, whose sweat-dotted forehead grimaced in anguish. Her eyes flickered open and looked at me beseechingly. "Oh, Master Jaze, I do not know if I can continue, as I feel terrible things about to occur." Queen Serjeen gently grasped the girl's arm; "My dear, it is important that you continue; please try." Lindea swallowed, and nodded. I continued my song, of the smaller boat coming alongside as the sun rose to wash over the water-slickened deck. The tableau re-appeared, as tall and heavily-armed Drofnats soldiers quickly swarmed over the rails of the ship bearing Disproul. The sailors in the large wooden ship, either sleeping or engaged in the necessary affairs of sailing, were largely unarmed and quickly overwhelmed. Two who fought were impaled on the Drofnats' swords, their corpses flung over the side. The remainder were herded over one side of the ship and forced at knife point into a landing skiff, which the boarders winched over the side and set adrift. In the corner of the tableau, I noticed a light-brown head emerge from the stairs that rose from below deck. Disproul stepped part way into the morning sun, and then gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Two invaders grabbed her by the arms and yanked her from the stairs and dragged her over before the man who had spoken with Abret earlier in the latter's cabin on the other ship. The man's moustache twitched in delight while he feigned ignorance of her identity. "Ahhh, we have a real lady aboard. Perhaps she has some riches - a family treasury - to make our raid most profitable." Disproul eyed him warily but said nothing. "Or perhaps, the greatest treasures of all are carried with her at all times..." He ran his rough-hands over her shoulders and down her chest, stopping to rest them on her taut breasts. Her hand quickly lashed out and stung his cheek. His hands dropped away as if burned. Catching himself, and embarrassed that the one blow from a woman could intimidate him, the leader's snarl deepened. "You may well pay for that, you snotty bitch." Just then, Disproul's eyes widened as her gaze locked onto a sight on the far ship. Following her eyes, I couls see a dark head peeking from behind one the the rotting masts of the Drofnats' ship. The leering leader caught her gaze and the soundless enunciation, "Abre..." with her startled lips. The man suddenly leapt behind her and pulled both arms behind her back, pinning her wrists together in his large left hand. He then looked over her shoulder at the young Abret, face flushed with embarassment. Her attacker's free hand rose from his waist. The morning sun's glint revealed a long curved knife poised over the woman's head. The attacker was not looking at Disproul, however, but rather at Abret; his face derided Abret for his stupidity, and the menacing knife informed the Prince that his throne now lay at risk if the woman lived to tell of his intra-family treachery. Young Abret's mouth opened to begin a horrified protest, but no words came out. He tried again, but failed to speak. Finally, with eyes pleading at Disproul's for forgiveness, the young sovereign sadly turned away in acquiescence, and before the princess could react, the knife swung down in a flashing arc. Blood gouted from the neck of the now dead woman. From the stairway through which Disproul had stepped just moments before rose a child's terrified scream. A small girl of perhaps three years, with dark curls, rushed forward at the assailant. The man intercepted the child and roughly grasped her by the armpits, raising her to his face. Just then she was followed from belowdecks by a young boy of the same age, though slightly taller and with somewhat lighter-colored hair, who apparently was alerted by the girl's screams. As the lad raised his head and all were given a clear view of the boy, I started, for his features were somehow hauntingly familiar to me. Behind me, I heard a female voice, likely that of Serjeena, mutter "Oh, my god," as though she did recognize it. Two of the boarding attackers quickly intercepted the boy and literally threw him back down the staircase. Disproul's slayer shook the small bundle of dark curls now clutched in his hands. The girl continued to shriek and try to twist away. As she did, her face turned toward me, and I heard myself gasp. I did recognize this face. It could be none other than that of of a young Rebca, the maidservant to Princess Paleem! In the tableau, the murderer slapped the young girl into sobbing quiescence with a quick smack, as though wreaking vengeance for the slap received moments before from the woman he had killed. "Listen, you little bitch. You will shut up now, and if I or anyone else hears another sound out of you at any time for the rest of your life I will find you and slit your throat just like I did your mother's!" The girl's sob broke off suddenly. She remained hanging in his arms, her mouth and eyes wide open with a soundless wail of agony and fear. The man literally threw the child, young Rebca, at the nearest one of his attacking legions, who barely caught the girl before she would have struck a railing and tumbled overboard. At that moment, a cry came from halfway up the rigging. "Milord, there is an approaching ship, and its sails appear to bear the crest of the Cardinal!" The leader of the invading Drofnats muttered a curse. Swiveling his head as though to regain his bearings, he barked out commands for the boarding party to gather together on the deck. "We have only a moment to get our ship out of here before this new ship spots us. Leave those two children down below; they can't identify anything and will slow down this new ship if it decides to stop us. And for heaven's sake don't tell our client on the ship that we found children here; he's weak-livered enough as it is." "Jaze, look out!" An unfamiliar female voice pierced the dungeon and the tableau winked out. By instinct I whirled just in time to see the blade of a heavy axe hefted by Novan arcing toward my head. I dropped to a squat and the sharp iron weapon whistled over my head, missing it by inches, and nearly struck Paleem. The blade's heavy weight threw Novan's center of gravity off to the side. Placing my hand on the floor for a base, I swung a kick around onto the side of the man's knee. With a scream, he fell heavily. Before he could rise, I scrambled to my feet and kicked him in the face, my instep planting itself neatly at the point of his jaw. Novan crumpled to the floor on his back. Two of the Drofnats guards rushed over and grabbed me from behind, while a third pulled his sword and rested the tip against my throat. I could see his bicep clench in prelude to a backpull needed to drive the sharpened point through my Adam's apple. "Enough!" The King's voice bellowed. The guard hesitated, as though measuring his chances of getting away with the completion of his stroke and insisting that the King's command came too late. Finally, he dropped the sword, and the two other guards released my arms. The King strode over to me, and as though addressing the walls themselves, intoned, "There will be no more killing for my throne, miserable seat that it is." I stared at the King, all the while resisting the racing of my mind. If Rebca was the daughter of the King's cousin who was murdered but who could have been the Queen.... Abret walked heavily over to Queen Serjeena, whose eyes were brimming with tears of sadness and revulsion. After an emotional inner struggle, he managed to look into her face. "My wife, my queen; I know that ours was a marriage arranged of politics and the joining of territories. Still, I have given you children and the throne that my father promised you would be ours to hold jointly. Now you know the terrible secret that has haunted me for so long. And now, I know that there are others who live who are more entitled, and more worthy, to wield the sceptre of our kingdom than I. Even if those who viewed this recounting today were held to silence, the joining of the jewels has brought the powers of the mages back to the land, and somehow the word would leak out, like water from an uncaulked bucket. Were I to maintain the throne over the righteous abhorrence of the people, the name Abret and all associated with it would be rendered to a curse, an insult, for any who would carry them." Tears now welled up in the husky monarch's eyes. He looked down at the floor, and then strode toward the door slowly. The guards fell in beside him. Abret stopped, and turned toward us. "I will be abdicating the throne. I have long contemplated that the sole salve for my tormented soul is a pilgrimage to the ancient holy lands of Berkeer. Perhaps in five or ten years, I can return and serve - as a servant - the new monarch. I can only hope that those who rightly inherit the throne that I usurped will treat my wife and children kindly." He nodded to the guards, who preceded him through the heavy door. All in the room were stunned and silent, as if frozen in a winter's icebank. Paleem and Lorena stared at Rebca, who clutched her throat. At that instant, I realized that the warning to me of Novan's attack could only have come from Rebca. The ebony- tressed beauty was stunned from her muteness by reliving the very attack which had cost her both her voice and her mother. Lindea stared at Serjeen compassionately, realizing what the loss of her husband and his throne would mean to the woman. Serjeen, oddly, gaped at me. Only Phrenshraw acted, ordering the remaining guards to uncuff Lindea and arrest the groggy, stunned Novan; the guards shuffled uneasily, but finally complied. Rebca stumbled over to me and grasped my hand. Her newly- found, soft sweet voice murmured, "Oh my, oh my, oh my....." Serjeen came over and awkwardly embraced the two of us, exclaiming, "What an amazing adventure you've had, and will have." I looked at her, my amazement surely written all over my face. "Your Highness, I'm afraid you have lost me somewhere in here. Adventure?" Serjeen's dark, piercing eyes explored mine, framed as they were in her high, chiseled cheekbones. She laughed. "You don't understand, do you?" My expression didn't change. "I guess monasteries don't carry very many looking glasses, and we would not recognize ourselves even as we are now from any vantage point other than that from looking straight into a glass." Serjeen cupped my cheek thoughtfully. "Jaze, that young boy on the boat, the one who rushed to rescue his sister? That boy was you. Why do you think Novan attacked you. Rebca and you were the twins that Disproul bore from the cardinal. Had she been named Queen, you would have been Prince and Princess. What I'm saying is that you and Rebca are the rightful heirs to the throne." My throat caught, and my heart pounded unmercifully. Only a miracle kept me on my feet as I stared into Serjeena's face, which exposed not a hint of doubt as to her conclusion. I glanced at the faces of the others, who all nodded in silent agreement; they too had seen an unmistakeable resemblance between that boy and me. Phenshraw stepped forward and clasped my shoulders. "Think about it, boy, er, milord, uh... oh, the hell with it! That you, a mere foundling, should be borne with such physical gifts that one would associate with those whose forebearers had used them to take a throne and carve out an empire: such gifts as athletics, and music and ... I suppose there are others." He looked around the room, and Lindea nodded, then halted, horrified at her implicit confession. "No, my Prince, it is not that - well, not just that - but I have sensed from him a regal lineage before." The Prince smiled charitably, and continued. "Recall how the powers of the jewels - at least the clarity of the tableau - increased as you came close to them. And the sound came forth when Rebca joined the group." I thought back, and nodded. "That effect - caused it is said when royalty participate in the jewels' use - was not nearly so strong when my parents or Paleem and I were near. So, it would appear to be clear. The cardinal's vessel - apparently sent out to escort his secret lover - found the abandoned ship and returned with the two foundlings. The cardinal, sensing that the children were his own, could not of course reveal their identities as their very lives would be forfeit, and had them placed in the two settings that he felt were safe for them - a monastery and the castle of the King himself. In his shame for his failure to maintain his own vows, the cardinal went on his own pilgrimage, which eventually cost him his life." The crone, who had remained silently sitting by the side of the brick-walled room, suddenly stirred and and struggled to her feet, joining us at the table. Her piercing gaze probed at me, and then Rebca. "Yes," she croaked, "these are the children from the boat. The boy, the elder, and then his sister, born minutes later." Lindea, standing with her still-cuffed hands stretched over the glowing jewels as though warming them before a fire's embers, nodded in confirmation. I turned toward Rebca, my vision blurring with tears. At last, I had a family! We hugged, squeezing each other tight, then simultaneously stiffened, recalling at the same time our amorous trysts two nights previously. I had both fucked and been sucked by my sister! After the initial shock, Rebca started laughing at our embarassment - needless in view of our ignorance of our kinship at the time of our lustful joining. Paleem and Serjeena, who both had been witness to our lovemaking, joined in. A moment later, Lorena's eyes widened with realization, and she too doubled over with laughter. Phrenshraw and Lindea stared at each other in puzzlement. The prince shook his head and spoke. "I know not of this jest that mysteriously has overcome you all, but we have more pressing matters to attend to." Turning to me, he somberly added. "Jaze, my cousin, it now appears that you are the rightful and, it would seem in view of your steadfast and intelligent pursuit of the villainous Novan, most worthy heir to the throne upon my father's abdication. I stand ready to serve you, Your Highness." With that, Phrenshraw knelt and bowed his head. He motioned to the others to do the same. My face flushed with realization. The kingdom! It was mine! I was to be the King, and all would serve ME! I envisioned that festivals aplenty could be held at my command, with armies of young maidens, ripe breasted and wet with lust for their monarch, bidden to service me at my every whim. The image flew through my mind in an instant. I would sit in the tent and watch as sultry maidens on the stage would dance before the assembled royals, but the fairest of the lot would come into my tent only. Jenfeer, the leggy stunner with the blonde braid that extended to the middle of her luscious buttocks, would arrive, and I would ingest through her kiss the sacred aphrodisiac herbs of the priests - as much as I liked! I could almost taste the sweetness of her tongue dueling with my own. At the same time, the young blonde triplets who had serviced Abret would flit around me, disrobing me with tiny, skillful hands, their thin-lipped mouths caressing and sucking at each inch of flesh they expose. My organ began to stiffen as I envisioned three sets of lips wetly touching my hips; as their small hands tugged my embroidered silken breeches over my thighs and down my legs, two sets of lips would clamp onto each side of the shaft and two tiny tongues would lap lightly along the base and over my balls. A third lovely faced frames with the cornsilk hair shared by the sisters would look up at me from the front, and the girl's sky blue eyes would gaze into mine as her tiny mouth lightly sucked at my tip. After enjoying their ministrations, I would receive the honey-haired Auria, and perhaps start by slaking my lust by prodding at the entrance of her moist tunnel while clutching her magnificently shaped ass. As she had earlier that day, the slender vixen would face away from me and drop into my lap and be impaled upon my stiff shaft. While she rode up and down on my cunt-filling cock, my hands would reach around her slim torso and toy with the perky nipples on her full, rounded breasts. While she rode above me, her dark-haired fellow concubine, the stunning Onassa, would kneel between our thighs and lap at the joining of our sexes, rolling her tongue around Auria's swollen clit and then descending to wash my rod as it emerged from Auria's moist tunnel, and even lave at my balls. Finally, I would be drawn to my release by Auria's clever and skillful pussy muscles caressing me as though they were fingers encased in a silk glove. As my seed spurted from Auria's overfilled love tunnel, Onassa would gratefully suck it in through pursed lips. After a glass of chilled wine, Charel and her cousin Licia would revive my spent cock with their willing young mouths, and then my eyes would survey the grounds for the next morsel of young flesh who had been recruited for the corps of concubines and maidservants. Any woman would be more than grateful to receive the lustful attentions of her King. What a life it would be! I looked around and saw that indeed all in the room, even the crone, had knelt before me, eyes locked to the floor - all except for Rebca, whose ebony eyes searched my own uncertainly. Our thoughts, even our very moral values, danced in the shared vision that passed between us. Our hopes, and our duties, were aligned. At that moment, I knew in my heart for the first time that Rebca was indeed my sister, my twin. I smiled at her, and lowered my eyes. "Please," I called out, "please rise." Everyone did. "The honor you accord tugs at the depths of all men's desires, and to be sure if makes for a terrific fantasy, but it is not my destiny to be King. Whatever may have occurred to my mother" - I nearly choked on the word, having learned of her and then watched her die only moments apart - "Abret has been the King for the past fifteen years and you have been raised as the King's Queen" - I nodded at Serjeena - "and the heirs to his throne. I have been trained to serve meals to the brothers at the monastery here in Speysard. I have no more business being King than I do being a bird or a fish. And, with Abret's abdication, the explanations that would be required for others to accept my presence on the throne would likely rend the kingdom apart." Rebca was now beaming, and clutched my arm in affection. I turned toward the Prince. "Clearly, the throne should be that of Phrenshaw. On every occasion when he could have been low, or mean, or unmindful of those of lesser station, or taken advantage of his position of authority over others, he has instead shown kindness and insisted that rewards go only to the worthy. I gladly express my fealty to him, and to his family." Looking at Rebca, I added, "...and Rebca and I ask only for the opportunity to continue this service." She nodded her agreement. Phrenshaw looked almost sheepish in his admiration for my act, and in his gratitude. Serjeen exchanged glances with her children, and she turned back to me. "In giving up your throne, Lord Jaze - and henceforth you will be a Lord, my son will see to that - you only confirm your royal lineage." She arched her neck and kissed me lightly on the cheek, pausing to whisper into my ear, "And have made my blood boil so that I insist that I be permitted to deliver by this evening's end that reward I promised you for your assistance." She smiled meaningfully as she stepped away. Phrenshaw hugged me now and playfully punched at my shoulder. "Indeed, it will be Earl Jaze and Lady Rebca, and you both will be asked to serve in the Castle. Milord, the skills and ingenuity you have shown over the past few days have convinced me that you shall be my most trusted minister. The joining of the lineages of the royalty and the priesthood has without question created a young man of wisdom and ... well, I'm not sure if holiness is the right word for one so randy; well, in any case, I might not ever permit you to return to the lands I will bestow upon you, so reliant will I be upon your counsel." He then turned to the luscious, dark Lindea. He slowly knelt before her. Looking into her eyes, he uttered, "Milady Lindea, I have been in your thrall for so long, and pray that you did not think my attentions were simply the dalliances of a prince for a lass who served him. You are in all ways truly of royalty yourself. I ask that you take my hand in marriage, not only to help me rule this Kingdom as my Queen, but to join our peoples and end the second-class status so wrongly imposed upon the gypsies." Lindea smiled, but certainly did not swoon the way one might have expected from one who heretofore had been a laundress. "But my Prince. Are you ready for marriage? To forsake all others but me?" Phrenshaw's smiled froze, but he nodded. Lindea laughed. "Oh, just as I thought. Well, as long as you're discreet with your attentions and do not neglect me, I will not make this marriage a prison." Phrenshaw's smile resumed at full power. Lindea continued, "Besides, Lindea may have some discreet indiscretions of her own in mind." Her eyes flicked to meet mine momentarily, then returned to his, where they were greeted by his laughing assent. I nearly fainted; in the course of seconds I had been offered the favors of two different queens! Serjeena interrupted the beaming couple. "This is fabulous! Lindea, you have just the sort of qualities I like in a queen; you don't take any bilgewater from your King. Come with me and I'll explain how a new queen and a queen mother can keep the Kingdom running smoothly. Besides, you need some more regal clothes; your left tit is showing." The two slipped through the door, with Phrenshaw's worried eyes following them. The Prince turned back to us. "Lorena," he commanded. The disheveled blonde bounced forward, her old flirtatiousness now directed toward the soon-to-be King. "Yes, Your Discreteness", she giggled, giving her full breasts an extra wiggle. Rebca punched her lightly in the ribs, hoarsely uttering in a stage whisper, "Lorena, it's not polite to address the King with a commoner's cum still on your upper lip." Lorena reddened and quickly rubbed at her lip while we laughed, then bristled as she realized her face was spotless and that Rebca was playing a joke on her. "Lorena," Phrenshaw repeated, "you will please take care of accomodations upstairs for my cousins Jaze and Rebca. I'm afraid you may have to give up your own chamber for Rebca, as nice as it is, but I'm sure that the concubines will be more than happy to take you in for the nonce. And do see to this esteemed gypsy woman; she too is an honored guest." Lorena gulped, but nodded, slowly. Rebca strode out of the room with Lorena and the old woman at her heels. Phrenshaw turned to me. "It has been quite a day for us all, and I imagine quite a week for you. I will go upstairs and lend comfort to my father. For all that he may have done, he is my father and a good man, and I will miss him while he is away. I will see you both soon." He turned and left, and suddenly the room, so crowded before, seemed very large with just Paleem and me. I found my breath hard to find as I turned to stare into the lovely green eyes of the stunning princess. She smiled shyly. I started to speak, stuttered, and then finally made my voice work. "Your Highness, at last we meet. Somehow, I feel I've known you for some time." Her smile brightened. My heart thereupon lurched, and leapt, and nearly left me. She extended her hand, which my own trembling hand took softly. "Oh, Lord Jaze - or Second Cousin Jaze - whichever seems more comfortable to you. I do seem to know a great deal about you, and what skills you possess. As a counselor to the new King, you would be willing - would you not - to share of those skills with his spinster sister?" The lightness of my head was nearly set aflame with the fever that rushed through my body. I wanted to hold and squeeze and become a part of this magnificent woman-child, to caress her fiery locks and kiss her soft, ruby-like lips. I stuttered again, and she giggled, and then I recovered. "Oh, my Princess, I gladly would share with you whatever skills I have - and with none other than you - forever and ever, till the cliffs of Solstice Castle have washed into the sea." Paleema raised her arms and put them around my neck. Her middle finger rubbed lightly at the nape, sending the heated chill of lightning from my head to my feet, with an extra stop or two in my loins. She leaned up, placing her lips close to mine. "Oh, I would not want to harbor for myself alone all of your gifts. That would hardly be fair to you, or others." Her lips pressed against mine, and I felt of a thousand rose petals, each delicately placed, kissing my own two lips. My knees shook, and I pressed her to me to keep my balance. "Besides," she whispered into my mouth, "I not only want to partake of these gifts. Remember - I like to watch...." THE END -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |