Lucidia's Cock Ch. 02

Corvyn walked briskly down the hallway, looking straight ahead while being offered hundreds of apologies. Danielle followed beside him. She was hysterical. Her lips and tongue worked faster than Corvyn thought anatomically possible.

"And I swear I didn't say anything to bring your capability and servitude into question," she reiterated yet again, "and I'll round up as many staff as I can find, so we can all defend your station together!"

He scowled. Her voice talked over his thoughts. But there wasn't time to think anyway; they had reached the office. Lucidia waited within.

"I'll fight to the end," she proclaimed, surprising him with the strong grip of her hand on his arm, "if she lets you go over this, I'll- I'll- I'll set fire to this blasted manor tonight!"

Corvyn rolled his eyes. "Go to bed, Danielle."

"Oh, but Corvyn!"

"I say again: go to bed. You're exhausted and out of your wits with emotion. You aren't yourself."

She looked at him with sad eyes, sighed, suddenly grabbed his face by the cheeks, planted a full, hard kiss on his lips, looked sadly upon him a second time, released him, turned, and fled sobbing down the halway.

Corvyn entered after wiping his lips. He saw-

Her.

-seated at her desk, looking at him with distant eyes, breathing deeply through her slightly parted mouth. Her skin was rich with color and there was a film of sweat on her brow.

"Goodness, Countess, are you ill!?"

He checked his outburst and quickly reigned his posture into-

Slave!

-a polite bow. Though he couldn't help but glance up at her with worried eyes. She looked as though she had been forced to dig in the garden!

"No, Corvyn," she sighed, "I am quite alright." Her exhalation dripped with satisfaction. It surprised her how quickly she managed to-

Tonight. He is yours tonight.

"Please, relax Corvyn. I summoned you to talk."

He straightened up, looking at her with his hands clasped behind him.

"And close the door, please."

As he obeyed, she asked "did Danielle tell you anything?"

"She said much," he answered with a smirk, "though I find her incomprehensible without a book before her."

Lucidia snickered and leaned back in her chair, resting both hands upon the table and drumming her fingernails on the varnished wood.

Above her, the old countess smiled, smug with a youthfulness her daughter didn't have anymore. Corvyn frowned at the painting. It wasn't fair. The late countess's visage remained dignified and carefree, while the passing of each day accumulated upon Lucidia's features, hardening what was once soft, encasing the delicate in calli.

There were several seconds of silence before Lucidia said "I have no idea how to start."

"Countess?"

"I mean, I don't know how to approach the topic I wish to discuss with you."

"Another time, after you've rested, perhaps?"

"No. It must be tonight."

"Countess, are you sure you haven't fallen ill?"

Lucidia ignored his question and shrugged her shoulders. "I'll just get right to it. I noticed something during my dinner with the Baroness VinClaire."

Corvyn looked down, away from the countess.

"The whole dinner," she went on, "you had an erection!"

Corvyn bent forward into a bow. "Yes," he answered solemnly, "you are right. I hoped you would not see."

Then, standing straight with his chest puffed out, he proclaimed "I apologize for my lechery. I'll set forth for a monastery post-haste. The Sisterhood may condition the faults from my temper."

"No you will not," she said with a pointed finger, and then scoffed.

"You are a man. Men have urges. And the urges men have manifest themselves in very, er, 'prominent' ways at times. I have learned my share of physiology, Corvyn."

"My Countess is as intelligent as she is gracious," Corvyn nodded.

"Yes, and her servant is quite the eloquent toady," she smirked, "but truth be told, Corvyn, seeing your, ah-"

Your cock.

"-uh, urges manifest at dinner was, well," she paused, sighed, made an exasperated movement with her brows, and went on, "I've been face-to-face with my share of penii, but never at dinner; nevertheless, it was a relief to see it."

Corvyn's brows furrowed. He remained silent, listening and staring at a spot on the floor before his shoes.

"It truly was," Lucidia asserted, "because I now have proof you are a living, breathing person and not some golem in the shape of a man."

The headservant took a few seconds to soak her words in. "I am grateful that you can look past my mortal shortcomings."

"They are not shortcomings, Corvyn, they are an integral part of you."

"Yes, I know, and I am aware that I am far from perfect, though I assure you that I do strive for perfection."

Lucidia sighed, annoyed. "God, Corvyn."

"Countess?"

She sat and drummed her fingers.

Corvyn could be a real dullard when he was inclined to it. It was one of his defense mechanisms. Lucidia had known him long enough to know his various ticks and quirks. And she was sure that he, in turn, grew to know the lay of her own personality as well.

In fact, she was sure of it.

Over time, Corvyn had mastered the subtle art of deductive discretion: he knew when to say what, but also when to say nothing at all. In a simple sense, she had grown to see him as a friend.

But it wasn't simple, for he was also her-

Slave.

-Servant. Her headservant, she corrected, to herself, a bit nonplussed. And, in addition, he was a-

Slave boy.

-Man. A man. An adult man who was a professional who was employed and was fairly compensated by her. Not a- no, better not even think that again. What odd thoughts she had tonight!

Anyway, being a commoner and a man, Corvyn was no ordinary friend. She could talk to him of things that were better left undisclosed to other noblewomen. He provided perspectives: different, insightful, refreshing, and at times thought provoking. And he was practical and efficient, recognizing those times where a frank response was better suited than a comforting one.

So seeing his-

Cock

-made Lucidia face a whole new side of him. No, not only that, but his demeanor too. Not once had she seen him that flustered. And that look on his face! The whole dinner, he was staring so intently...

He was a dirty, perverted little boy.

She wanted to know more. But it was clear, seeing him stand there, eyes locked on some invisible anchor at his feet, that this entire discussion was making him uncomfortable. And since she considered him a friend, it would be wrong of her to-

You can make him talk.

It would be wrong to-

You can make him talk about his thick, hard cock.

That is, a friend wouldn't-

Interrogate him about his hot, horny urges.

It would be an abuse of her noble upbringing to-

Make him tell you about how he wanted to fuck. Pump. Squirt.

"You left in quite a hurry," she blurted out.

"Pardon?" The outburst surprised Corvyn. He looked at her, and noticed the new heat upon her complexion.

"With that servant girl. What was her name?"

"Cheryl," Corvyn answered, a bit unsettled by Lucidia's excited tone.

"Yeah, Cheryl. She's a nice girl. Where did you take her to-."

Fuck.

She clenched her eyes and lips shut, as though holding back a sneeze.

"That is, did you-"

Fuck her on the floor in some nook of the kitchen.

And again, she reeled herself forward and back again, holding her jaw tightly closed.

"God, you are ill," Corvyn said, looking at her with worry.

She quickly shook her head and held up an open palm. "No, no, no," she assured, "I am merely trying to collect my thoughts. As I was saying, you and Cheryl - are you-"

Warm cock. Warm cunt. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

"I was not aware," she finally managed, her eyes fluttering, "that you two were intimate."

Corvyn almost guffawed. "What!? You're joking. She's a child!"

Lucidia's brows arched. "Cheryl's but a couple years younger than you, isn't she?"

Ripe young slut sucking on, and off, and on, and off, on, off, on, off...

"I suppose," he answered with a roll of his eyes, "she's an adult; and also, she is a capable, dependable worker. Though I find the majority of our employed ladies to be such gossips that it is hard to look upon them as ladies." And he added, with a brief sniff, a stomp, and a straight posture: "rest assured I feel no temptation for any of them, save the need to see a job done right."

Lucidia gave an amused hum. Then, hit by epiphany, her eyes and smile lit up.

"Ah! So you prefer older women, do you?"

Corvyn imperceptibly gasped. Was she about to imply that...?

"It makes sense," she mused, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, her hands clasped in her lap, "I found you quite grown up for your age, before your promotion. And your exceptional maturity..."

He's a grown up boy with a big boy cock!

"...has only flourished over your stewardship."

Corvyn was about to interject but she went on, keeping him silent with her authority.

"And it makes sense for a male headservant to find a woman of higher breed more appealing, as you tend to our kind directly throughout most of the day. Yes, I see all now," she excitedly explained, leaning forward and wagging a finger at him. "So you fancy my friend the baroness! You little dog you!"

Dog! Dog? It wasn't like her to call anyone a dog. Certainly not Corvyn, her loyal friend. But it felt fitting, in that moment. Dog. Dog! A doggy that needs a leash.

"Me? Fancy the Baroness?" Corvyn asked, not expecting that accusation.

"Yes! And I certainly do not blame you for your hard co- er, your condition. Her hair was so pretty that dinner, wasn't it? With the highlights and buns? Oh, and how much of her neck and shoulders she showed! Yes, she certainly knows how to flaunt her appeal!"

The countess was yammering in a merry tone, feeling relieved at having gotten to the bottom of the matter. It was, after all, a bit vain to even suspect a young man like Corvyn would lust after herself, wasn't it?

But Corvyn was not in agreement. He shook his head: no.

Some time ago, at a social event hosted at the manor, Baroness VinClaire had a few gulps of wine too many. And as she was being tended to by Corvyn, she made a clumsy pass at the headservant.

He couldn't even recall what she had said. It was some silly thing, and none of the ladies and gentlemen had noticed; and if any had, none remembered.

But the staff did. And the gossip churned so tempestuously that she may as well have fucked Corvyn right then and there.

And just when he thought the silly rumor had died down, he'd hear a joke muttered from across the hall: "but only Corvyn knows the true color of VinClaire's hair" or "have pity on our poor boss: our countess rides his ass all day, and the baroness rides his face all night!"

So tiresome. And so rude! They were lucky he hadn't told Lucidia what filthy rumors they were spreading about her dear friend.

"No. No, I'm sorry, no," Corvyn firmly said, recalling the aforementioned episode.

"No? You are sure?"

"No," he repeated tirelessly, "the Baroness VinClaire is a very beautiful woman, do not misunderstand me, but I do not find myself attracted to her."

"Well, alright, but," Lucidia slowly said, her eyes narrowing, "but if..."

That bulge was for you.

"...you did not lust after Cheryl or VinClaire, then..."

That cock was hard for you!

"...that only leaves-. That must mean..."

For you. All for you. Your cock!

"...me?"

Corvyn ground his teeth, feeling himself burning and mired in a trap Lucidia was unaware of setting. The countess meanwhile was lost in the thoughts buzzing in her head. What was this flutter in her chest? This rush in her fingertips? She had felt this long ago: reading old courtly romances as a child, playing truant against her tutors, engrossed in tales of love. And there was that other feeling: a pulsing in her sex. The need.

"Corvyn," she called out, finally.

He did not respond.

"Corvyn, look at me."

He looked up and saw her eyes. They were stark eyes. Wide eyes. Daydreaming and deathly-serious eyes. They are hypnotic eyes and they are irresistible.

"I have had suitors," she explained in a measured voice, soothing and captivating all at once, "many of them, as I am a woman of wealth, status, and (as I have been told) am attractive, even in my years."

She paused. Corvyn said nothing. He couldn't.

"None of them, not a single one ever looked at me like you did."

He shot her a glare. He couldn't speak, but his expression said all: look? What look!? He would never-!

"You did," she declared, "you did! And it kindled something within me. Looking at you was like gazing at a bonfire, and I have wanted to be in that heat since. I have lost countless minutes just staring at nothing, lost in my memory of your gaze, the arch of your brows, the glow in your face. It's as though you've branded my mind. And now I just endlessly repaint that scene: you, behind the baroness, looking, glowing, your body, your face, and your-!"

She gasped and pointed at him. At his crotch. "Yes, there! There it is again!"

Corvyn felt his cock throb against his trousers. His blood went cold. His sight blurred at the edges.

Damn his stupid, hard cock!

Lucidia fawned over her headservant's hardon. "That's the shape of it, just like before. A serpent gliding through a calm lake, bending the surface of the water as it swims below."

Unable to bear the distress of the situation any longer, Corvyn at last found the power to break the spell and protest.

"Countess, please," he scowled, "we must get a hold of ourselves!"

She heard him and knew he was right. But it was far too late to worry about anything regarding manners, aristocratic image, or her friendship with Corvyn. She had seen the outline of his erection once again - an erection for her - and its thick warmth cast an irresistible spell upon her.

"I want to see it," she breathed.

"What!?"

"Oh Corvyn," she whimpered, "I want to see your cock."

What had come over his countess? What had come over him? Ever since that damned dinner-. No, this started before then. These strange thoughts, did Lucidia have them too? These erotic fantasies and fixations, fluttering in and out of ones mind like phantoms. From where did they emanate? Was it a disease? Witchcraft?

Try as he might, Corvyn couldn't wrap his head around the situation, for even then that phantom voice rang in his ears.

Show her your cock.

It was only Lucidia's good upbringing that kept her hands clasped together on top of the table, horny and soaked as she was. Tending to her pussy could wait; first, she needed to see that cock. And she knew full well that she had authority over Corvyn. She knew she could just...

Make him show his cock.

...but that was a line she wouldn't cross. Were it any other man, she would use a firm ultimatum: out with that cock, or you'll be cast away! But this man was special. And so the phantom voices rang in her head like cacophonous bells.

Cock. See his cock. Make him show his cock. You must see it!

And all she could do was continue to whimper and beg. "Please, Corvyn."

Show her your cock.

"Please show it to me."

Show her your cock.

"I'm a wreck, Corvyn. I'm obsessed. You see that."

Show her your cock.

"So please, I beg of you, have mercy on me."

Show her your cock!

"Show me your cock, Corvyn."

Show her your cock!

"Please, oh please show me your cock!"

Show her your cock!

"I'll do anything, Corvyn! Anything at all!"

Show her your cock!

"Anything to see your cock! Anything, Corvyn!"

He didn't realize he released his hardon until he saw Lucidia's reaction. Her beautiful eyes went wide and bright, and her mouth parted into that engrossing O. She was so gorgeous, vibrant, and so blatantly horny that Corvyn's hot, thick shaft was pulsing with need for her. For her mouth.

But her expression also had a flavor of bewilderment. Something like amusement and confusion. And then, when she finally stammered "my god, Corvyn, you've-?" his heart sank once more.

Why - oh, God, why - had he been compelled to shave his cock and balls that morning?

***

Danielle hurried down the dark halls of the manor. The thought of Corvyn being let go from his position filled her with a great guilt. That guilt kept her from retiring to bed. And so it forced her to brave the darkness.

Danielle wasn't a coward, but she was superstitious. This old manor was an echo of all the different settings of her ghost stories. And ever since the old countess had passed away, the unknowns of the manor's shadows were fuel for the minstrel's imagination. But her concern for Corvyn propelled her past the apparitions born of her fears, and soon enough she was back at the door to Lucidia's office.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing. Was she too late? No - there was light glowing from below the door, so someone must still be inside. So why didn't she hear any conversation? She pushed the door ever-so slightly until she could see-

By the holy mother! Corvyn's cock!

Danielle barely suppressed her gasp, and then a second one when she saw her countess, as wide-eyed and awestruck as herself, reach out towards Corvyn's naked groin. She tenderly touched the flesh just above his base, running her finger along his hairless, pale, perfectly smooth skin as though she was feeling a painting.

But what was happening here? What was Danielle spying upon?

As she asked herself this, she heard it:

You're spying upon something you shouldn't see, hissed the voice into her ear.

She felt a chill up her back. The words whafted through her mind like a cold draft.

You are a very naughty girl, the voice cackled. It was sinister and heavy, but Danielle could tell it was a woman's voice. Oh god! Could it be-?

It would be very bad if you were to be caught peeping on your countess like this.

Damn! The voice was right! Danielle had better just get away from the door and-

But you just have to see what's happening there, don't you?

Did she? She watched the countess place the tips of her fingers along the length of Corvyn's pointed cock, feeling its heat and pulse. Yes, she did. Her curiosity was too strong to pull her away from the door. But wait, what about this ghastly spirit haunting her?

Hmm, you are a naughty little thing indeed, the voice laughed. It was a hot, breathy laugh right onto her cunt. Danielle whimpered, realizing how wet she was.