Pleasure Knight

Inside there were chairs, a table, a bed in an alcove in a corner, about a thousand jars filled with flowers, and a large couch that looked very soft and very deep. The vine floor gave way under my boots, and for a moment I was afraid I would fall down the sixty or so feet to the ground and break some of the bones I was the most fond of.

The room had slipped into that kind of messiness women only dare allow themselves when they don't have a mother-in-law that might suddenly decide to pop by. Poppy didn't seem to care what I thought of it, she just pushed me down on the couch. Down into the couch. It was so deep and soft I would hardly be able to get out without a struggle.

And I had a feeling that Poppy was ready to rumble.

-

I wouldn't have minded that at all if I had been like other men. If I had been like any other man, I would have been deliriously happy to be seduced by this divinely beautiful girl. If I had been like any other man, I would have thought, 'It's just an act on her part, and there is some kind of hidden agenda here, but let's worry about that afterwards, why don't we?'

"Er... Is this my room? A guest hut?" I said, all evidence to the contrary.

Poppy lit a reddish candle that smelled heady, spicy. As it met the scent from all the flowers, it said "Hey, let's mix and smell real sexy together, shall we?"

She sat down on the table in front of the couch and dangled her legs. Her naked feet managed to lay claim to the space I was planning to use when I closed my legs, and her toes and ankles were dangerously close to the insides of my knees and thighs, forcing them apart by pure intimidation.

"Dearest Sir Weed, this is my little home. And this is my couch. It is very big, and very, very comfortable. It has more than enough room for you to sleep on, or do anything you wish. Anything at-"

"I am not really used to-" I yelped in panic.

"Sir Weed! Please, be so kind as to not refuse my earnest offer? Surely, you are not such a rude ruffian, are you?"

I had no idea you could mesmerize someone just by energetic foot dangling. Apparently it was trivial.

"I don't... It's not proper for-" I protested, even though a certain part of my body was standing up to register its dissent. It still hadn't learned from its many failures.

"But, dear Sir Weed, don't you want to get to know me a little better?"

With that she leaned forward and let me see almost everything I could wish for. Almost being the key word. Countless men have been driven wild, some probably also insane, by almost getting what they wanted.

"Yes, yes, of course, sure, as you like it, right ho." Stalling was not one of the arts I had perfected yet. "Why don't you... tell me a little bit about yourself?"

"About me?" She put one leg above the other and was only a few inches from making me howl as if hit between the legs by the club of desire. What made it even worse, or better according to Mr Stiffy, was that it wasn't conscious on her part. "Well, as I said, I am an apprentice to Lady Deep Shadow, but I believe I already told you that. Didn't I? I did. So, around here my main responsibility is... No! I'll start at the beginning. When I was a kid I so loved the flowers in our backyard. Really, though, it was mostly weeds and I guess my mother was just too happy to let me loose there. When I was ten, or nine, or eleven, I don't know, what does it matter? When I was tennish, I was always covered in dirt and grass. Every evening. I had flowers in my hair and the muddiest feet this side of a hippo, if you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean?"

I knew that her eyes were up there and her leg was down there, insisting I count every bouncy jump and kick and whirl.

"By the time I was fifteen I had my own herb garden, a carp pond, five shady lemon trees, and so many flowers you couldn't count them. I know, because I couldn't. When I was seventeen it was evident, even to those neighbors who didn't have to deal with fences that were bulging in on their yards like dams about to burst, that I had certain skills. That meant I didn't have to be a weaver like my mother, yay me!, and so I could move in here and work for Lady Deep Shadow. You see... Now, how can I explain it to a man? There are lots of Flower Girls all over the world, and we all got our own thing going. Soils. Magic herbs. Shaping of plants. Me, I'm a grower. Put a nut in the ground, and I will grow you a tall oak in three years. These vines?"

She gestured to the vines that made up her little hut. As she did, she nudged my thigh with her foot. She didn't seem to notice. I did. I was on my way to wishing she would turn seductive again. 'Weren't you supposed to flirt with me?' Yeah, that sure was a good line. Way to go, you treacherous, rigid snake.

"Grown them myself. As well as lots of other plants in the garden, and elsewhere. Yeah, that's me. The other apprentices are different. Blossom is an expert in plant animation. Some say too much of an expert, but I don't know." She giggled. "Flame? Who knows what she does? And the Lady Deep Shadow herself, she can do everything. She didn't get to be the mistress of Flower Garden when she was only twenty-seven just by luck. I will be twenty-seven in four years..." Same age as me. "...and I doubt I will even have become a Lady by then. Well, just goes to show. Some are luckier than others!"

She drew breath, but I was too distracted by her leg to speak.

"Look now! Look!" With that she pulled at a loop of a vine that had decided to crawl across her table. "Oh, I still get a kick out of this!" She looked at the plant as if at a lover or a child. "Grow, my dear. Grow! Be free, be strong, be alive!"

A tiny dot appeared on the vine next to her fingers. It grew into a small pea-like thing, before it squiggled and coiled out as a long, growing shoot.

"Look!" she repeated.

A small bud had materialized on the new stalk. It opened, and a large, pale, white flower appeared.

"For you, Sir Weed!" She handed it to me.

I put it under my nose. It smelled like kissing her would taste, I was sure.

She smiled and shook her long, honey hair. The look on my face must have reminded her of what she was supposed to doing.

"And you, Sir Weed, are going to be lucky." Her foot moved closer to the thing I couldn't hide unless I had a very tall, very thick, very hollow cucumber at hand. "Very, very lucky if you only tell me why you have come to see Lady Deep Shadow."

With that she touched me. Her big toe pressed, softly, gently, barely brushing, against my big, hard, throbbing member.

I jumped as if a thousand gallons of icy water had been poured over my crotch.

"You will tell me, won't you? Pretty, please? Remember that good boys tend to be rewarded."

I swallowed. I breathed in and out. My loins were on fire. All my member wanted was to be touched again, to feel her presence one more time.

What did women have that turned men crazy by just their lightest touch, just their most delicate taps and pokes? I had no idea, so I just grasped at her leg to pull her toes back where they belonged.

"No!" Her laugh was a fake, coquettish one which only fueled the fire because of its insincerity. "Tell me first!"

I held my tongue. For two reasons.

One was that a few months ago I, out of hundreds of Wanderers, had been chosen, been given this honor, been trusted to undertake this dangerous journey through the Wild to come here. To be the one to ask for help in brewing the magical potion that could save us from the threat of the Dead Lands. The oracle had been crystal clear: If we didn't find a way to ward them off, then Glory Hill, and the world with it, would fall.

-

The other reason? I had never gotten any pleasure from my desires before, only endless torment. I had no cause to believe that this time would be any different, not even with a woman as beautiful as Poppy.

I had never experienced what other men bragged about. 'Coming,' they called it.

Apparently this meant that, just as you were so needy that you just couldn't take it anymore, you squirted some kind of warm, whitish liquid out of your manhood. It sounded disgusting, but evidently it was incredibly pleasant for the man. It was also said that you were released from that insatiable lust that so often consumed me.

I had tried. The Lady only knows how many times and how hard I had tried to make it happen. All alone in my room, late at night with my head full of women's smiles and shapes and sounds and scents and soft, soft kisses. I had tried until I started to cry in my need. I had made love to women. I had done all the right things with them, again and again, all night long, but I had never been able to quench that fire.

-

Poppy pouted. Poppy looked straight at me with puppy eyes. Poppy leaned forward. Poppy extended a slender, graceful hand towards the quivering tent between my legs.

I leaped up off the couch, dove under her arm, and pressed myself against the wall.

"I am so very flattered and glad and delighted and everything..." I spoke as fast as my tongue could move, not daring to stop for breath. "...for your incredible kindness and this most exquisite proposition that you are, eh, putting to me, unless I am mistaken, which I may of course be, and forgive me in that case, but I really, really, really should be going now, and would you please be so kind as to escort me to the gate and, eh, I won't waste any more of your time, please?"

She came over to me. Didn't look angry despite my snub, which was a relief. Didn't look ready to seduce me anymore, either. That was also a relief, even though my instincts told me the opposite. Instead she seemed concerned, worried, almost desperate.

"Weed!" She took my hands. No more 'Sir Weed.' "I am so sorry about everything, but you know, I thought... I just need to know why you are here!"

"I have sworn to-"

"No!" She tugged at my arms. "No! You don't understand! Lady Deep Shadow is an evil witch. She's even plotting against the Sibyl! You cannot trust her."

"But I have sworn-"

"Stop saying that! Weed, come with me! Let's run away and I can introduce you to my friends. The Lady Steel Rose will tell you everything. Don't go to Lady Deep Shadow! I beg you!" She almost went down on her knees.

Once again she tried to fool me. Once again she played games with me. But, as it turned out, she wasn't the only one who could act unconvincingly.

"You are right," I said. "I will listen to you. Why don't you show me out, and I will, eh, meet you somewhere tomorrow and we can, eh, talk about it some more?"

Her mouth fell open and she let go of my hands.

"Eh," she said. "Sure, that's a... great idea. But, before you go, why don't you have a drink?"

"No, I-"

Too late. She had already turned around to fetch something that looked like a green fruit with a long neck, out of something that looked like a crow's nest.

"Please, Sir Weed," there was that 'sir' back again. "You surely can't refuse my offer? I have brewed this drink myself. It's made from the juices of some of our most succulent fruits." She pushed the green pitchery thing into my hands as if she were peddling it in the market place and had to get rid of it before it went bad.

I was forced to take it or it would have fallen to the floor. Almost on instinct, I was soldier after all, I put it to my lips. Then I thought to myself: 'You are not really this stupid, are you?'

"No thanks," I said. "I really have to go."

"No!" she shouted. "You can't leave when I offer you... these!" With that she tore at her blue shirt and ripped all the buttons off.

It was the shock, more than the sight, of a pair of very fine breasts which made me jerk my hands up to protect me. Which in turn made me push the pot's mouth straight into my own. Which in turn made the liquid inside slosh about. A few which-in-turns later, and I proved that I really was that stupid and got my mouth full.

It tasted like a refreshing drink mixed half and half with extra hot chili sauce. That was enough for me.

-

I broke free of the hypnotic power of her naked bosom, stormed through the door of fine roots, and ran along the cast iron walkway. In the confusion I lost the flower she had given me. It fluttered down to join the dying leaves on the forest floor far below.

She didn't shout after me, but her barefoot steps set the metal road behind me ringing out and telling me I would be caught if I didn't get away. Though what she would do to me if she got me I couldn't tell: She had been sending out very mixed signals all night. It was the possibilities that I would enjoy that I feared the most. And that was just wrong.

We ran through the crowns of three trees, over two shrubberies, and around a large bend over the surface of a calm pool. I tried to take left paths, I tried to make rights. Couldn't shake her. Soon I was as lost as a blind man in a maze full of stumbling stones and the occasional, and sudden, extra low ceiling.

I managed to escape by doing something that one really shouldn't mess around with in the deepest of nights.

There was a fir tree with thick, thick branches running all the way down to the ground a little ahead on my left. When I came close enough I leaped off the walkway and straight into the sharp sticks and needles. I grabbed, I clutched, I got pricked and whipped, but I somehow managed to slow my fall.

It hurt as I tumbled down and hit the ground, but not as much as after any regular sparring bout. I even managed to land on my feet. Finally I was in my right element! I never found out if Poppy followed me over the edge, for I lost myself in the forest as quietly and randomly as I could.

-

Soon I had to stop with the running, though. I was getting tired. And kind of woozy in the head. That, or the plants around me started to play tricks on me.

First a tree placed itself straight in my path and let me smack my tender face on its rough bark. Then the very same path began to wobble like a boat when a herd of hippos try to board all at once. And the path was suddenly so long, and my body was suddenly so heavy, and I suddenly found myself crawling along only the Lady knew where.

Crawling straight into a pair of elegant, black, and shiny woman's leather shoes. Equipped with heels that had to be far too thin and tall to be any good out here in the garden.

-

I tried to lift my head up higher. Ankles and knees as white as snow and smooth as butter. I tried even higher. Thighs, thighs, and more thighs, then a tight, green hem which stopped just as the hips and other interesting bits were about to happen.

No matter how far up they seemed to be, I still got the feeling that the owner, both of silky skin and velvety fabric, was rather short and petite, but there was no way I had the strength to confirm that.

"Oh my," a voice said. Light, sweet, almost girlish, with a perpetual giggle to it. "I have been worshiped before, but this was quite unexpected."

"grmphph," I said.

"You even lost your power of speech? I am flattered."

"Heshay!" I meant that to come out as "Help, I've been drugged."

"Or maybe... You are not drunk, are you? Who invited you in? You sure are handsome enough for a night or two. What's your name?"

"Wiff." That might, or might not, sound like Weed.

"Oh, dear." She lifted one of the black shoes that were too pretty for walking over mud and dead leaves, put it inside the collar of my shirt, and pressed the fabric into the ground. And with it, my head. "Now you made me nervous. I think I have to keep you pinned down here until you stop intimidating me."

I didn't sense much that made any sense right now, but I got the sense that this woman was anything but scared.

"What's your name?" she said. "Take your time. I can spend all night looking at a prostrate man."

I wish Sir Suave was here, and that he wasn't so confused and dizzy. He could have replied that he wouldn't mind spending all night in the company of such a dainty, lovely foot as now caressed the side of my head, as well as with the rest of the body it was attached to. Sir Sensible could have replied that he found her behavior a little unsettling, and would she please step away before he had to take action.

What Sir Me did was to give my tongue a good licking, cough a little, groan, then say: "W-W-Weed!"

"Weed who?"

I spent some time answering that, but to avoid all the mumbling and misunderstandings, let's just assume I said "Sir Weed, Wanderer of Glory Hill," all at once.

"Sir Weed," the voice said. "Wanderer of Glory Hill... Well, in that case I think I trust you." She pulled her foot away. "But what are you doing, groveling at my feet? Usually I have to insist. The first time."

"Help me," I croaked, dragging my face out of the earth. Her shoes were still close.

"Help you? Why? Did any of the girls drug and molest you? Shame on her!"

"No!" I still didn't manage to look up. "Need to speak Lady Deep Shadow!"

"Lady Deep Shadow? Now? It's still some time until dawn. Why did you get drunk with her apprentices if you wanted the Lady herself?"

I did not have the strength to tell her what had happened. Wasn't sure I was willing to tell her anything at all. She seemed... Unsettling somehow.

"Need see Lady Deep Shadow!"

"All right!" The voice giggled as if I were a performing monkey. "All right, can you walk?"

I couldn't.

"Oh dear." Poisoned honey dripped from her lips. "Then I guess you must crawl. But that's all right. I like it when men crawl for me. Can you see where I am walking? If not, then I will have to put my leash on you. I wouldn't mind that, but you might. It is far more difficult get off than to put on."

-

I tried to follow her down the path in the least humiliating way possible, but it was an endeavor doomed from the outset. Still, the early morning air wafted over me and scoured off layer upon layer of dizziness. Soon I was able to lift my head up high enough greet the rosy dawn as it spread across the horizon.

That was not all I saw.

Her butt was covered by a green dress so tight it could almost have been tattooed there. In the field of comparative chickology, I would say that Poppy had the largest curves, but that this one had been born to show off hers.

I saw the small of her back. And I saw the ponytail.

The glowing, red ponytail fell all the way down to the narrow, black belt which hugged a waist slimmer than my thigh. Thick hair, straight hair, silky hair. The kind that other women would kill to have.

The ponytail dangled. It goaded me to cross green lawns and blue streams on my hands and knees. I became dirty and scratched up, but it just became more glorious as the rising sun caressed it with its burning rays. I followed its hypnotic swing up cast iron ladders while I clung on for dear, still woozy, life while she giggled at my predicament. I followed it while hurting my knees on the metal walkways, and sometimes I even managed to look up all the way to the back of her head and the wellspring of the glowing mass of blessed hair.

But I did not get to see her eyes. Not yet.

-

Finally, just as I was able to get up on a pair of trembling, uncertain feet and noticed that she was almost a full head shorter than me, we came to a set of stairs. They spiraled around what looked, to my misty eyes, like a steep, steep mountain. The ascent went on and on, and for each of her light, sensual steps I had to take three. We kept turning and turning, and at last it occurred to me that we were in fact circling up the trunk of a tree.

A big tree. A tree so big that other big trees had to feel like straws next to it. I wasn't sure I liked it, though. It was as if it enjoyed being a big and mean sylvan bully. All the other trees had to bend away from it to even get a chance to see the sun. Or they were toppled over by its enormous roots. It was the kind of tree you wouldn't want to hide beneath on a dark night deep down in the Wild.