Noble Beasts Ch. 01

Chateau Lisiere was sometimes a lonely place, when the wind whistled through the balistraria, or when most of the servants had departed for the night, leaving only the rough men of the garrison. Lonelier still when it's proper Lord, the handsome Vicomte de Breva, was out drinking in the town, or away hunting in the forest. Loneliest of all, the Vicomtess, Hortense to herself, would say, were the days when the Vicomte went hunting *with* his well-to-do noble friends, leaving the entertainment of the womenfolk to her.

On these days, the Vicomtess de Breva, (Hortense to herself,) would brace herself for the aching loneliness of talking about nothing, knowing that nothing she would like to talk about made proper company, and knowing that the talking itself drove away the very voice of fantasy in her head, whose company was better than any of these proper ladies. She expected today to be no different. Sure, the esteemed Lady Vivienne was bringing a new friend, Lady Elise, to the glorified cake and knitting circle that Hortense called her Salon, but truth be told Hortense hated Lady Vivienne

Hortense hated Lady Vivienne in the way that only a woman who grew up taught to see her appearance as her greatest asset can hate another. In Vivienne, Hortense idealized all of the traits she would wish for herself, while failing to account for any of her own charms that Vivienne may have lacked. Hortense saw Vivienne's lustrous black hair, and disregarded her own rich auburn curls. She saw Vivienne's high and mighty bust, and counted her own pretty handfuls for naught. She saw the way Vivienne's curves filled out a ball gown and assumed the beauty's husband relished and claimed her regularly in a way that Hortense's own Lord did not.

Had the Vicomte de Breva been born a woman, his dissatisfied husband would certainly have labeled him frigid. Luckily, such thoughts were not befitting a woman of rank, and the Vicomtess did not voice them. It was not that he *never* ventured into his wife's garden, just that he was more there to root than to explore. The Vicomte seemed only occasionally interested in sex, and when he was...in those times, "Breva" was more than just a title.

And so Hortense quietly hated Vivienne, which is to say she idolized her beauty, despite being the latter's equal by any standard less exacting than her own. The other women to slated to drive quiet imagining from her head today were themselves beautiful, highborn women, but only subject to Hortense's loathing on her own worst days.

Lady Aurelie, was, as name may suggest, a bright and witty blonde of the smallest stature, as quick with a retort or mezzo harmony as one could ask, and probably just as quick to be lifted by her Knight Captain husband's strong arms and pinned to the wall when he was ready to turn his lance upon her, or so Hortense supposed. It really wouldn't do to ask

Lady Sama, wedded to the wealthiest merchant in town, a trader in spices and steel, was a tanned beauty from the south, of thick brown hair, warm brown eyes, and the softest skin Hortense had ever seen. She probably had wonderful stories, but never told them. Instead ever so politely, Sama would ask Hortense how she managed such a perfect stitch, or who Aurelie had hired for such a pretty gown, or whether Vivienne thought their men would be successful in the hunt.

It was all too much, and life of luxury aside, Hortense was ready to scream, if only it could change a thing.

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The first thing Hortense noticed about Lady Elise were her eyes. Eyes which couldn't seem to decide on a color. Most eyes bearing that description, Hortense included, were somewhere on the green-grey-blue spectrum, and settled neatly into place when guided one way or the other by a particularly vivid dress or piece of jewelry. Elise, though wearing a dress as clearly lilac as anyone could ask, had eyes that seemed soothingly blue at one glance, playfully green in another, and perhaps even strikingly purple in a certain light. The second thing Hortense noticed was the cask.

It was polite to bring a bottle of fine wine when first visiting the Chateau of another in your social class; a large cask was mighty generous. Especially as the Vicomtess was the wealthiest woman this side of the province, and the men weren't even around to be impressed. A delicate filigree pattern ringed the dark wood of the cask, and as Elise received permission to uncork it and pour, even the jaded noblewomen of the room perked up.

The wine seemed to pour almost like a sauce, rich and, dare she think, thick? It smelled incredibly rich, and tasted divine. Dry enough, but slightly sweeter than the most popular wines loved by the sommeliers of the royal court, and packing just a bit of spice. Novel, without tasting of novelty.

Soon Hortense found she was actually enjoying herself. Auralie spoke of a dress she had ruined as a teen, trying to impress a boy with her daring. Sama laughed and told of the time she had bought lowborn dancer's garb and snuck into a performance for her father's friends. The first glass drained more quickly than Hortense recalled. She did not rush through the glass as she often would to hurry through the forced socializing of the elite, but it seemed just an unhurried moment before her glass was tipped to receive a second pour.

Vivienne watched the pour with a gleam in her eye, a gleam which escaped through her mouth before her mind could leash it. "I wish my husband's cock filled me half so well as this wine"

A shocked silence filled the room, as the color drained from Vivienne's face and Hortense's mind raced like a stallion bursting through the gates of Hell. Her first feeling was that of triumph; her rival suffered as she did, and could certainly never show her face in polite circles again. And yet, the smile never reached her eyes before a wave of empathy for her peer broke against her lips. "I feel the same,"

The raw gratitude that emanated from Hortense's almost-disgraced peer, was drowned out by a low chuckle neither of them had heard from the soprano Aurelie. "I'd give you my husband's cock anytime you wish. The Lord Knight is insatiable, but he wields the Warhammer between his legs with all the finesse of a battering ram, pounding at my gates.

All winced at that description, but Elise was the first to recover from the second awkward silence in as many minutes. So far having spoken little beyond formalities, she asked an unexpected question. "My Lady, does the door to this tower lock?" At Hortense's surprised nod, she continued cautiously, "Perhaps we entertain ourselves with something apart from sowing today. Each of us in turn shall choose another to complete a task. She that does not complete her task must complete her drink instead. Once we have gone round the circle, if we are enjoying ourselves we can go round again."

Each woman seemed hesitant to be the first to nod, and it was Sama who finally saved them from an eternity of "Um's" "well's", and "if that's what the others would like to do"'s, by loudly agreeing. "Our men get to spend all day hunting and camp tonight in the woods; Do we suppose they are entertaining themselves just with sowing and stuffy politeness?"

At the general assent, Elise again spoke, from the door as it locked shut, though Hortense had not noticed her rising. "My Lady Vicomte, it is only fitting that you assign the first task."

Hortense hated going first, feeling obliged to somehow thread the needle of a task daring enough to keep this decidedly refreshing party exciting, and yet not so daring that she would be refused, and feel the shame of seeming perverse in front of her friends. After the mounting pressure of half a minute's hesitation, however, she decided to start things safe, and demanded a dirty poem from Vivienne.

There once was a man from Artois, whose cock was too thick for her jaw. He heard a pop, and his wife had to stop, so a snake for a mistress he saw.

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As she tipped her cup to fill a third glass of the strangely potent wine, Hortense felt closer to her fellow noblewomen than ever before. What sort of friendship had she been sacrificing at the altar of noble prudishness and fear of gossip? These women were like her, women who yearned for something beyond the doldrums of decorum. They had gone twice round the circle sharing stories, telling jokes, speaking of what worked for them to excite their husbands. In truth Hortense was getting rather excited herself. The only person who had drained her cup instead of complying was Vivienne, when asked if she would like to fuck any of the women's husbands. Had Elise been chosen yet? Hortense would be sure to choose her next time round. Now it was Vivienne's turn, and Hortense anticipated that she would aim to make the Vicomtess drain her own glass.

"Hortense," Vivienne began, as the Vicomtess braced herself, "You must point your bare ass out the window for a minute, that the forest, the elves, and just perhaps our dear husbands, can see what they are missing."

Hortense immediately pressed her lips to her glass and begin to drink, but a fey defiance overcame her and she set the glass once more. Instead she marched wordlessly to the window, and flushed with embarrassment up to the roots of her hair, and looked decidedly toward the ceiling as she hiked her skirts up past her hips.

The cool March breeze tickled the Vicomtess' most intimate areas, reminding her of her excitement, and her mind raced through outlandish scenarios at rapid, incoherent speed. What if a hunter saw her and broke into the castle tonight? Or the Wild Hunt took a liking to what they saw. Or even a Beastman?

Shying away from the last thought, Hortense distracted herself by looking quickly back at her fellow noblewomen, and the brief glimpse she caught of their faces before they schooled their expressions shocked her. Far from the mockery, or even cool contempt she expected, Hortense saw joy, eagerness...even hunger? Vivienne guiltily broke her gaze the second Hortense looked her way. Elise though, Elise did not.

Elise captured the Vicomtess' gaze in her deep (were they amethyst?) eyes, and held her there, a slight smile playing on the former's face. Here was this beautiful, strange woman, who brought beautiful, strange wine, who gazed upon Hortense's face, while she felt the entire forest gazing upon her bare treasures. The moment held, and Hortense felt for an instant that she was going to lose composure, kiss this woman, do something she wasn't quite sure of. The muscles of her exposed and so long dissatisfied sex, gave a single longing squeeze around nothing, before the spell broke. Hortense hurriedly sat down, quietly making a mess of the shift beneath her dress. She chose to finish her glass despite completing her task.

The tension rose palpably as the game continued. Aurelie and Sama both chose to assign lighter tasks, like those from the previous go round the circle, but unspoken, all knew that a new level was broached. They were not de-escalating; merely deferring to Hortense's turn. Hortense, meanwhile, was getting properly drunk.

Well, not properly drunk. Quite improperly drunk, in fact. The Vicomtess felt no nausea, no vertigo or spinning, and only a slight drag to her speech and movement. But Gods was she horny, and propriety seemed mutually set aside by the ladies of the salon.

Nevertheless, Hortense surprised even herself when she spoke forcefully upon the arrival of her turn to demand. "Sama, you are farthest from the window. You must spend the next time round the circle naked. You may put your shift and dress back on at the start of my next turn.

Part of her expected to be scolded, to be told that the women were done playing this horrid game, and to be left again lonely. Most of her expected Sama to finish her drink and for Hortense to feel both the shame of being the only woman to make others drink twice this game, and being the only woman to bare herself before the others. What she did not expect was for Sama to bite her full lower lip and give a tremulous smile as she stood.

Sama was not free of nerves; her hands trembled as she fumbled with her waist belt and the fastenings of her dress. Such soft hands, I wonder how they would feel against my lips?

Hortense frowned briefly as Sama began to pull on first her dress and then her shift. Had that thought really been her own? And hadnt she intended to call upon Elise? Surely Elise was feeling left out, that no one had chosen her yet. These thoughts and others were driven out of her mind as the shift pulled away and Sama stood naked before them. The woman was beautiful

Well-manicured feet gave way to strong calves and thighs, graced with just barely enough fat to soften the otherwise too-hard edges, but not enough to dampen her curves. The fur on Sama's mons was thick and lustrous, like the hair on her head, trimmed back just enough to give shape, but in no way unnatural. Her hips cradled the region perfectly; lines and curves drawing the eye inevitably toward one place. Drawing the eyes upward took an effort of will, but was worth the effort, as waist slowly blossomed toward a happy bust, perhaps larger than Hortense's own handfuls, but smaller than Vivienne's bounty. Each breast was capped with a nipple standing at full attention amidst slight goosebumps, not, Hortense suspected, from chill. Beautiful dark hair framed a well-placed collar bone, and cheeks which straddled the line between "cute" and "classical." Presently, the tremendously nervous almost-smile tipped the face past "cute" and into "vulnerable".

"Now feel how wet you are."

The words had not come from Hortense. True, Elise was sitting to her left, and it would be her turn next, but the ladies had this far made a point of not calling on the same woman twice in a row. Especially not one pushed as far as the nervous Sama had been. Hortense was about to speak up, fear of excluding Elise be damned, when Sama obeyed.

Setting her feet a little apart, Sama took two fingers of those ever so soft hands, and traced them down those inevitable curves, seeming somehow less nervous than she had a moment before. In the silence of the room, each lady could hear the slight gasp as she ran her fingers past the sensitive bud and along her entrance. Her mind somewhere else, Sama did nothing to control the sensual open curve of her mouth, or the second gasp sitting atop the still-held first, as she drew fingers clearly wet with her arousal filming slightly between them back past her bud and held them in front of her. "Taste it."

Collectively allowing Elise's impertinence of giving two commands in a row, the ladies sat in rapt attention as Sama pulled the arousal from her soft fingers into her sensual mouth. Like Hortense before her, Sama seemed to waver, a wave of under-explored lust threatening to crash through all barriers, before the spell again broke. Quickly Sama sat, turned her face aside, and seemed to hide behind that lustrous hair, shy embarrassment visible even on her tanned neck.

It was Vivienne who cleared her throat first, and suggested a refill in a horse voice. The ladies whose glasses were not quite empty quickly remedied the situation so that they could begin a fresh glass together Thus fortified, Vivienne again spoke, "Aurelie, you are to kiss your Vicomtess as you would the good Knight Captain, were he in your bed right now."

The short and slender blonde hurried over and sat side-saddle across Hortense' lap. Aurelie whispered, "I'll do better than that," into her ear, and took a tiny sip of wine before pressing her lips lightly to her liege-lady.

The floral scent of the small lady's perfume, and the taste of the spiced wine drove Hortense mad. She instantly wrapped her arms around the slightly younger woman, one hand digging possessively into the side of her hip, the other resting commandingly on the back of her neck. Passion ruled the kiss, the Vicomtess imperious, her subject somehow both submissive and teasing; Aurelie's gentle tongue and lips seemed to beg to be overruled, and yet danced repeatedly out of reach.

After an indeterminate time of hungry kissing, the side saddle rider's buttock pressing maddeningly against those same muscles which had grasped longly for purchase in the grips of her last spell, Hortense became aware again of the circle other than herself and the pixie in her lap. A hand still possessively on her rider's hip, she broke the kiss, and slowly disentangled her gaze from the green eyes and button nose before her, to lock eyes with Sama, still shy, but no longer hiding behind her hair. "I believe it is your turn, my Lady Sama."

Quietly, but clearly, Sama replied. "Don't call me lady right now." At Hortense' questioning look, she repeated, looking around the room. "That's my command. If I were a lady, it really wouldn't be at all OK for me to be naked like this in front of my peers. If I'm a whore, though, well, then that's to be expected, and there's nothing wrong about this. Please call me whore."

Sama's voice grew smaller with the last sentence, but Vivienne stood and strode the few steps to her chair in an instant. Had Hortense ever really registered how tall the other woman was? Hortense was solidly average in height for a woman, but Vivienne stood easily half a foot taller. It has seemed of no consequence, Hortense's superior station compensating for the difference, but now she could hardly notice anything else. Standing above the still seated Sama, Vivienne cupped the submissive woman's jaw, locked eyes with her and declared confidently, "you are the greatest whore in the country."

As though rehearsed, Sama immediately removed herself from the chair and knelt before Vivienne, who took the seat without pause. Neither did she remove her hand from her new whore, but moved it from her jaw to rest lightly against her neck as Vivienne sat.

Hortense felt a pang of jealousy, that another woman could claim some sort of mastery in her Chateau! In that moment, the Vicomtess knew that her rivalry with her (friend?) Vivienne was not resolved just by their newfound understanding. One of them would master the other in time. That she knew not who would prevail, was only part of what stayed her from commanding Vivienne yet. There was another imbalance to be addressed. "Lady Aurelie. Do you also wish to be called whore in this place?"

"No, my Lady," the infuriating wench responded, "I am a very naughty lady, and I am very much enjoying my impropriety."

Well, it is still my turn to command, is it not?" Hortense replied with the slightest hint of insecure pique creeping into her voice.

"It certainly is, your majesty."

Where did this woman learn to dance so well with words, and body language, and tone? Every line dared Hortense to act, while admonishing her for daring! A new sympathy for the Knight Captain's blunt ways crept into the Vicomtess' heart.

Confused by the perverse sense of losing command as she gave it, and keenly aware of Vivienne's gaze upon her, Hortense quickly barked her command, "well, if you enjoy the impropriety so, Lady Aurelie de Breva, noble courtier that you are in the court of your Vicomtess, you should be dressed as the whore in the room is, and you should pay the whore to undress you so.

As Aurelie hid her real uncertainty behind a show of false uncertainty, playfully considering the glass of refusal. Hortense again berated herself for being too eager. She yearned for Vivienne's poise and confidence while also wishing someone would push her the way she had pushed each woman almost out of the game. She did not even realize that she was holding her breath until Aurelie set her glass down with a bright smile and adroitly hopped off of Hortense's lap. "I'm the shortest woman here. I wouldn't want to be more drunk than everyone else. I suppose I have no choice."