Oruale and the Saxons Ch. 04

Over the two nights she had spent with Lancelot, Oruale had learned to trust her erotic instincts. Even now, when she was half in stupor, her instincts told her to go for his prick. Knelt on all fours, she looked around and saw him, not far from her… He was lying down, his erection straight up, just waiting for her to make her move.Why does he do something like this? Why doesn't he just submit me to his wishes? Slowly she crawled to him, instinctively keeping herself low. She already learned never to touch a warrior's sword with her hands. Only wenches used their hands, offering cheap pleasure and instant satisfaction. Ladies who surrendered used their mouths, their lips and their tongue. Only a mouth delivered pure delight and was able to perfectly clean a fleshy sword.

Carefully Oruale started at the base, tenderly licking the wrinkled covering of his balls, meticulously cleaning the male jewels from sweat and dirt. They felt heavy in her mouth obviously carrying the load, accumulated in the last two weeks. Next she worked her self up the massive, unyielding monolith to the top. She let the shaft slide against her cheek and felt it pulsing against her skin. It felt so hot and alive. She marveled at the wonderful shape of the fruit at the top. Tenderly she cushioned her lips over the helmet, taking it all in the warmth of her mouth. The following test was the most difficult of all, a hallmark of the progress she made in pleasing her warrior. She inhaled firmly, hallowed her cheeks and started the long road down, taking him in her throat. Her lips reached far over the halfway point but fell short almost an inch.Why is he not helping me? She tried a second time with an improved result but only the third time she received his sign of approval, his hand first softly stroking through her locks, then pushing her down, inescapably till her lips touched base. Her breath changed to a high squeak but she didn't gag and her lips remained firmly in place. Finally she yanked her head up, exhaling with a long drawn-out scream. Excited she watched the proud result of her efforts: a perfectly shaped obelisk, coated in glistening slime.It is mine, it's all mine…! With her breasts high, her thighs wide, she squatted above his loins, directing his massive spear in her welcoming sheath.

The moment she slid down and took him inside Oruale felt something was wrong. His body seemed to freeze and turn her away. Abruptly he rose from his lying position, pushing her over roughly.

"Aelfrith will not be pleased…! I gave you a clear sign what was expected from you."

Immediately Oruale realized her mistake.Of course! My arse! I should offered him my arse…

"I'm sorry, let me make amends for my mistake…"

It was too late. Lancelot already had taken a grab in her hair and dragged her with him. Oruale burst into tears over her stupidity. Everything seemed going so well and now… Her crying increased in intensity over her enormity. Of course she knew she was sent to Lancelot to be tested. Twice she was submitted to the test her husband and master had drawn up for her. She had done so well, she had been so near. This blunder was inexcusable.

Dragged by the hair she was taken to the second table and bent over the wooden beam. Crying she felt her ankles and wrists strapped firm. Her whole body was stretched out as a big arch, her bottom being the highest point. She just could see Lancelot approaching her from behind, the cane in his hand. When he walked around and presented the cane for her to kiss it, she burst into another series of pathetic sobs. After applying a heartbreaking kiss she started to beg for mercy.

"Have mercy, peleeese…"

Her desperate pleas didn't make it easier for Lancelot. He had agreed with Aelfrith he would submit his wife to at least three series of canings. After the first series he was relieved she made a mistake, which offered him the pretense for a second series. He had enjoyed her cock-sucking immensely. It hardly would be impossible to fake a fault in her perfect deep-throat technique. He sympathized with the red heap of misery but as Aelfrith explained to him, it was all for her own good. Some knight, a confidant, had to chastise that wonderful body for the first time. And he was the chosen one. He took the cane firmly in his hand. With her body bent forwards, her legs properly spread, the view from her naked behind was stunning. Her long thighs with their smooth skin ran up to the hollow at their tops. Her plump outer sex lips pushed out at him, exposing the captivating inner lips with their undulating edge. They were nicely imbedded in he flaming red fleece. Her taut buttocks merged into smooth hips whose swell narrowed to her graceful waist. Still there was the mystery of her brown rose whose radiating grooves he could observe in minute detail.

There was another detail he noticed. Although she was still was begging for mercy and a stream of tears was flowing from her red eyes, some slimy tears were dropping from her nether mouth too.It is not all misery this lady suffers. Obviously she experienced some tender sensations and Lancelot had trouble to restrain a smile.

"Your failure to follow a clear sign, normally would get you at least ten strokes with the cane. However, since this is your visit to the dungeon I'll give you five assuming you will not test my lenience again." Lancelot said with a voice as harsh as he could produce. He heard the sound of sobs hastily gulped back.

"Now count down loud and clear! Starting now!"

"Five…" she moaned with broken voice.

A desperate shriek escaped her as his first hissing stroke hit her. Although he was making much noise Lancelot still restrained himself in the force of his blows. He had a furious erection and since he still was determined to enjoy her body, it was in his interest to keep it fully operational. When he untied her, she fell on her knees, immediately rubbing her inflamed behind. She made a heroic effort to subdue her sobbing. He allowed her some moments to calm down before he reminded her of her next duty.

"Now you will be chastised with my fleshy sword, milady and you will pleasure me …"

Oruale felt her whole bottom was raw and painful; it seemed in fire and she had no means at her disposal to quench it. In addition she felt the gut-wrenching fire within but at least she had some pointers to handle that emergency.This is the ultimate test. I cannot botch up. This was not the time to keep crying. She crawled over the mat and turned to confront Lancelot's fleshy sword. Even though her drying eyes she noticed how angry it looked, all red and swollen with bulging blue veins. She had to relieve its tension and offer solace and comfort. On al fours knelt before him, she opened her mouth like a pet dog begging for a bone. Her breasts were swaying cheerfully, exhibiting their perfect pear-shaped form.

Kind-heartedly Lancelot slipped his furious cock inside. She was even better than the last time. Her soft lips enfolded his helm and her tongue explored its sensitive eye. She took him gently and slowly, allowing him all the time to enjoy the sweet game the tip of her tongue was playing. In due time she leisurely took him deep, caressing the full length of his shaft with the channel of her mouth and throat.

When she turned, she showed having learned from her mistake. With her bottom high she spread her cheeks with her hands, submissively presenting him the orifice of his choice. Lancelot didn't even try to soften her pain and humiliation. First he explored the red center of her brown carter with two fingers and then entered her with full force, penetrating her ball-deep. Oruale felt her bowels being filled, and then filled some more until she cried out in anguish. She felt his pubic hair against her bottom cheeks and knew she was fully impaled by him. He speared up remorselessly into her tight dark tunnel, paining her, letting her slide into the inky darkness of pain and pleasure.

Suddenly she felt him slowing down and she knew why. She was trying to block her mind for the coming activities. The other night she had acted in an impulse, as a reaction to a challenge. Now it would mean her intentional surrender and acceptance of total humiliation. It would signify unrestricted nastiness just to please the man who ignited the fires in her body. Lancelot nourished exactly the same ideas from another perspective. By the time he was finished with this lady, she would have learned to love the taste of a cock just drilled up her backside to the hilt. The sooner she learned to master this pagan worship of his pole the sooner she would experience the delights of this nasty game. Being a real submissive, she had all the qualifications to become an excellent prick cleaner.

When Oruale turned around his erection was bouncing up and down in front of her face but she wisely kept her hands to her sides. Always eager to assist a lady, Lancelot took her head with both hands till his cock was just in front of her open mouth. He guided his thick column into her mouth without much consideration. Oruale cringed when the smell of her own arse filled her nostrils. Yet the feeling of inevitability and humiliation excited her beyond belief.

"Close your lips over the shaft."

Her wicked maneuver had brought him an exciting titillating pleasure, exceeding all his expectations. She was real sweet, sucking and licking his throbbing erection in total abandon. With one hand under her chin and another over her head he forced the full length behind her lips. She sobbed in submission while saliva ran down from her chin. When she finally let him loose, he rewarded her with two blows of the cane at her swollen sex lips which brought her at the brink of orgasm.

Again she presented the sight of her black booted thighs topped by the wealthy flesh of her bottom. The creamy cheeks were richly decorated by the red slashes of his cane. Pleased Lancelot noticed the anus was already showing a nice gape as result of earlier activities. He pushed her head down, forcing her to hollow her back and present him with a still more tempting sight. With his legs wide outside her hips, he penetrated her straight down, drilling his rod into the far depths of her bowels. Moaning she absorbed the sledgehammer blows of his battering ram. When he pulled out, he stood high above her. She only had to turn her face to him with her lips invitingly open and his humid rod came straight down again. With her bottom still glowing her excitement was soaring to new heights. Lancelot was so impressed by her performance he just let her do it another time. Again he could enjoy the transition from the clinging ache of her contracting sphincter to the soft relief from her sucking mouth.

After rewarding her with two blows of his whip, now hitting her lower tummy, Lancelot lay down for a well-earned rest. Oruale had all the intelligence of a fast learner. Perfectly posed, presenting her breasts like a figurehead, she let herself down on his glorious totem pole. Hopping up and down, she did all the work, offering him the exciting site of her bouncing tits. She tortured herself by gyrating on and on. He assisted her by supporting her hips, then teasingly letting her slip. She wailed when she felt herself impaled over the full length of his spear.

Sobbing she fell sideways from her throne and started crawling low to his loins. But by the time she reached the spot between his outstretched legs, she didn't cry anymore. His prick, lay flat over his belly and she looked up to him waiting for his approval to touch it. But he didn't and she had to pick it up with her mouth before she let the helm disappear in her mouth. She felt his hand stroking approvingly through her hair and then his voice.

"Again!"

She knew, she had to move better. Panting she clambered upright and nailed herself once more. He almost felt harder than a rock. Lancelot watched how she combined a toppling forward and backward movement of her hips with a rhythmic clinching of her sphincter to one undulating torture of his shaft. Growling loud he ruffled his cock up her ass in a hectic, foolish tempo until he unloaded jet after jet of his seed deep in her bowels.

When she let herself slide off his hips, she saw his member was still half erect, all covered by slime and sperm. Without a word spoken, she knew what was expected from her. After chastising her, it waited for her sign of satisfaction. Between her legs she felt her horror and excitement over what she was going to do. She looked at his face for a short moment, lowered her eyes and slavishly started licking at his reviving erection. Starting at the base it took her long a long time before she reached the ridge at the top. When she closed her mouth the smell of his sperm, her own juices and her anal musk hit her like a brick wall. When the hand over her head pushed her down she faded away in the dark ecstasy of total submission. With the energy of two weeks abstinence piled up in his balls he soon exploded again. A surge of seed was dumped at the back of her tongue. Before she could swallow it all she was dragged by her hair to the table.

"You lewd lady!"

Before she knew her arms restrained upwards. It felt like a relief and she voluntarily brought her legs in the air to be restrained wide. Almost passionately she kissed the whip with the soft leather lashes. The whip was purposely designed to drive the victim slowly to the pinnacle of pain and pleasure. Lancelot went to work, swinging the whip in a short arch so that it slapped hard against the open lips of her sex. As he pulled back the separate leather lashes with strings of firm nodes were stroking against her most sensitive parts in a long teasing movement. He found a nice rhythm of hitting and teasing and the alternating waves of pain and pleasure had his companion gasping and craving for relief. Slowly Lancelot increased the intensity of his lashes. Although he intentionally didn't hit her slit directly, he was certain the force of these lashes would find its way to the tender pink flesh of her inner lips and to her bulging bud. By this time Oruale was in such despair, she raised her loins each time she expected a lash. She didn't notice Lancelot took the cane in his hand again until the full force of his blow hit her at her most tender spot. Her desperate shriek at the top of her lungs reverberated through the dungeon.

Respectfully Lancelot watched his hostess wrestling and wriggling with her restrains in the throes of ecstasy. He couldn't remember being so aroused. In fact he nourished a formidable erection again. Being an honorable knight he decided not to penetrate her abused bottom another time. Seeking for an outlet for his overheated member he had a flash of inspiration. Walking around the table he made his way to the other end. Lady Oruale still was enjoying the aftermath of her shattering climax. Tapering off, with her eyes closed, she was breathing in heavenly bliss. Startled she suddenly felt the touch of heated flesh against her face.Will this never be over? She felt the full length of his penis brushing against her nostrils and experienced a familiar heat re-emerging from her body. His breathing went fast and she sensed it would not take long. Then she received the treat of a third deposit of a true warrior's weapon. Thick globs of sperm splashed her face hitting her left eye. Mewing softly she endured her baptism of seed. His hand covered her face and spread the slime evenly over her cheek. She heard his hoarse whisper.

"Rest assured, milady. I can't see your freckles now…"

Dedicated to my editor JayneC for her continuing support.