Postcards from Q

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Each passed train station is a lost adventure.
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Fuck it. All the stone churches and gift shops could wait. It was just past the first half of their European vacation, and Evan had had it. He and Victoria had been getting along well enough. They were hitting the right spots, eating at nice restaurants, taking selfies at all the famous locations -- even a few that were not so famous. But it lacked the sparkle of adventure he had imagined when he agreed to take the trip. It was starting to feel like a drudge.

Seasoned travellers know, when that happens; you take the next few days off, and you go deep. Preferably in some sleepy little town -- one with chickens and cows. Maybe even goats; and decent coffee. It was time to get off the train, find a hotel, and dig in for the weekend.

It took some convincing on Evan's part. Under Victoria's impressive organizational regime, their schedule was truly a thing of beauty. It read like the show schedule of the Rolling Stones, like the bucket list of Atila the Hun. It was the Grand Tour on steroids. It also squashed even the slightest hint of free time or spontaneity. She was beautiful. He loved her. She had the sweetest pussy. But sometimes she just didn't know how to live.

Ultimately he convinced Victoria to give him control, just for a few days. They would get off at the next stop, whatever it was, and take their chances somewhere in the depths of Europe. Finally, a proper adventure.

The conductor seemed shocked as he watched them gather their things. Evan couldn't tell for sure, maybe these Europeans were just that way, but he thought he read some concern on the older man's unshaven face. It was probably just cultural differences. Once the car's doors opened, they stepped into a warm pleasant night of the perfect Medieval town. They didn't even know its name.

The dim stone walls towered above them in the moonlit silence as Victoria watched the lights of the train fade into the darkness.

Evan could read a town. Victoria had learned this about him on this trip, it was one of his super powers. Hefting their packs onto their backs, he led them under the massive stone arches into the narrow streets of the quaint walled city.

In the moonlight, they could see newly planted flowers gracing the windows. Fragrant garlands hung from the lampposts. Huge banners spanned the streets at intervals -- all in some mysterious language.

Victoria whispered, "I think there's going to be a parade or something."

Evan secretly hoped to himself, like the beer gardens of Munich, it included outfits that showed lots of cleavage. They could barely make out the huge letters on the banners. But it didn't matter, the language was unfamiliar to them both, and his translation app required an internet connection -- something often in short supply in walled cities.

As the streets widened, they began encountering the occasional person, surprising for such a late hour in such a sleepy little town. Everyone seemed uniformly welcoming and friendly, smiling at them as they passed.

Hoove falls on the cobblestones behind them caused them to tuck into a dark alcove, as what appeared to be a mounted garrison passed them by. They took in the vision as each rank passed, two wide. Each rider was ghoulishly silhouetted against the bright moon. Many carried a tall pike, topped with something rounded (Evan assumed they were some sort of spear tip protectors used when the force was moving among friendly civilians).

The weary riders paid them little notice, and once they had passed, the couple retook the street. It was looking more and more like a parade every minute.

After a slight turn to the left, they found themselves in the central square, where a spirited crew was completing final touches on a large pavilion. Making eye contact with one of the workers, Evan used international pantomime to secure a recommendation on suitable local lodging -- the polite worker pointing to a set of lit windows on the far side of the square.

The clean, nicely lit pensione was pretty much what both of them had pictured when they had discussed this adventure on the train.

Things were going particularly well.

A handwritten sign in the tiny lobby defeated multiple attempts at translation. With fragile confidence they decided it meant the innkeeper was asleep and that guests should take a labelled key from the basket; matters would be resolved at "the ultimate meal", which Evan imagined to refer to the first meal -- hopefully breakfast, he was getting hungry.

They found the labelled room on the third floor. It was a well sized, nicely appointed suite, facing the square. They tucked in for the night. The soft and comfortable beds in combination with the solitude of the quaint town and the weariness of their journey, lead them both to a deeply sound sleep.

A shaft of sunlight traced its way across their room until it found the couple entwined under the covers. Evan's eyes followed the feline lines of Victoria's naked body as she slipped from the sheets. His eyes lingered on her fine ass as he savored the memory of the last time he fucked her from behind. She drew wide the drapes, her sweet breasts, bouncing almost imperceptibly with her motions, were perfectly illuminated in the morning sunshine, like fruit in an artist's still life. It would make a perfect European postcard. As Evan smiled at the idea of his grandmother getting such a card in the mail, Victoria slipped back into his arms in the bed.

They watched the town waking up below them from their comfortable vantage point. Victoria noticed that the women, without exception, were all dressed quite provocatively.Though he said nothing, this same detail was not lost on Evan. The women all seemed to be radiating. What was it that they ate here? Maybe it was the water. It was all making his cock hard, which he made a point of rubbing against Victoria's soft ass. She ignored his pokes, claiming instead to be starving.

Evan and Victoria dressed and stepped out into the hall. They joined several couples just entering the elevator. As the car descended, Evan could see in the mirrored wall that one of the women wore a skirt pinned up in the front, accentuating her long legs. As his eyes followed those legs he was surprised to notice that it exposed, entirely, her naked crotch -- she had obviously forgotten a critical part of her outfit. His first reaction was to warn her of her oversight, but not before he had a chance to get a good look at her. Her lovely labia were on bold display. Discreetly rolling his eyes, he saw that indeed, the other woman in their group was showing herself as well, wearing a more familiar fashion with stockings and a racey mirrored garter.

Once the elevator doors opened, Victoria took him aside.

"Did you see that?" Victoria asked, shocked. "Those women were flouting their pussies like they were whores or something. I thought this was a nice part of town." Feigning disapproval, Evan nodded, assuring her that he would address the matter immediately with the management. He was about to suggest it might have been part of some kinky dare when three more women passed them in the hallway, each with their lovely crotches fully exposed.

Evan was dazed, it was probably more different pussies than he had ever seen in one day, and it was still early morning. He liked this town already.

After a few starts, they managed to make it clear to the innkeeper that they spoke only English. As luck would have it, his twenty year old niece, Kenra, was visiting from college and she spoke passable English. If they would be kind enough to wait, she would be better able to help them.

They had to wait for a few minutes for her to arrive, but when she did, Evan found her, and her lusciously displayed slit, stunning.

"Welcome to the city of Quim," Kenra told them. It was barely intelligible in her thick accent.

Evan shot Victoria a look, but there was no reaction. Maybe it was the accent or maybe Victoria was tired -- she didn't seem to get it.

Their translator went on to explain, with frequent gesticulations to her own prominently displayed, and mouth wateringly beautiful Evan thought, cleft, that they were visiting at an especially auspicious time. This weekend was the famous Festival of Quim. Theirs had been the last train of the night. The drawbridge was up, the city was now closed for the weekend.

The festival celebrated pussies. Unabashedly, it seemed to Victoria, who immediately wanted to leave. If they hurried, they could return to the safety of their previously scheduled itinerary.

"There must be a way to escape."

Laughing, the concierge's niece told them there was no escape, but trying was often quite fun. A specially appointed force garrisoned the town during the festival. They enforced the blockade and the rules of the festival quite strictly, she giggled. Every year, a few people intentionally attempted escapes for the sheer adventure of it.

Later, when they had gained access to the internet, Evan and Victoria would learn that the town was situated on a unique geological formation, which, like Kent in England, lent the town its name, or rather, which since ancient times had lent its name to the feminine organ we have all come to love. The ancients has long recognized the town as a sacred location, nestled in a deep valley that had been formed by the flow of a stream sourced from a mysterious cave that had never been fully explored. Its waters flowed always warm, at times hot, which had fed speculation that it's source was the planet's core.

Pointing at Victoria's crotch, Kenra's advice to Victoria was to take off her pants, and to enjoy the festival weekend, adding, with a giggle that they would not regret it. She would even lend her some scissors and thread if she wanted to try to alter her clothes.

Evan thanked Kenra as together they made their way to the dining room. Victoria was fuming. As they tried to enter the dining room, the hostess stopped them, making it clear that she would not be able to seat them if Victoria did not expose herself.

"No fucking way, I'm out of here!" And with that, Victoria bolted.

Thinking that Victoria needed some space, being desperate for a cup of hot coffee himself, and seizinging the opportunity to admire the pussies on display around him, Evan enjoyed a break in the ornate dining room.

Just as he was finishing his latte, the square erupted in a loud ringing of bells. An excited commotion swept across the dining room. Seeing that the other people in the room responded with laughter and smiles, Evan read it as a minor event. Kenra was walking by, and trying not to stare at her brazenly displayed snatch, he asked her about the bells. She told him it was a signal to the garrison, it seemed that someone was attempting an escape. She winked.

It couldn't be Victoria. She didn't have it in her. When Evan checked the room, he found it empty. She wasn't there.

Evan searched the streets around their hotel, and the square. No sign of Victoria, but there was a wondrous variety of female genitalia on display. Under different circumstances, he might be able to while away an entire day here.

As he was just about to search a dark church, the column began entering the square from the Eastern corner. He was able to recognize their general shape from the night before, but in the dark he hadn't noticed that they were all women -- beautiful ones. Each uniformed in the sexiest ways, like Viking queens. Some of them carried long pikes which, bizarrely, were tipped with dildos.

All activity in the square ceased as the unit made its way into the center, everyone making way for the procession as they admired the warrior goddesses on their mounts.

Temporarily pausing his search for Victoria, Evan stopped too. Until, there she was, on the final horse.

Her clothes were gone. Victoria naked in public was something Evan thought he would never see, but here she was -- and she was magnificent. She now wore a rope harness, tied artfully in an asian style that accentuated her lovely breasts. Her nipples, the thick nubs that Evan so loved to lick and suck, were hard and prominent. Her hands were bound behind her back, as she rode tall in the saddle, defiantly stable and solid. Her hips rolled with the motion of the horse, while her chest remained level and smooth. Though there was a hint of defeat about her, somehow she seemed entranced.

The column formed a line in the square, with Victoria's horse being led so that Victoria was facing away from the assembled crowd. Evan watched as the two nearest amazons flanked her with their horses. With the flash of a knife blade they cut her ropes, and the two of them lifted Victoria up by the arms. As they did so, Evan watched Victoria's stretched cunt disgorge a bulbous dildo that jutted up from the saddle. Victoria moaned, and Evan's cock grew hard as she was pulled free of the thick spike, which gleamed in the sunlight, slick with her juices. She had made a puddle on the top part of the saddle as well.

He later learned that the feared amazonian warriors of Quim were famous for the saddles, which kept them stable atop their mounts. With both their hands free, they were able to attack lethally with a variety of weapons. In the histories of Quim, they had never been defeated by armies of either sex. For obvious reasons the warriors were also prized across the continent as spectacular partners. Not only due to their vise-like vaginal grip, but also because the constant sexual stimulation made them insatiable lovers.

Victoria's nipples stood out hard, as she was led onto a stage and fastened into a large byzantine device. She was unusually docile as they lashed her in place, facing the crowd. From what Evan could gather, she was resigned to punishment for her attempted escape. The people were electric, as citizens -- men and women, gathered to watch.

Once she was restrained, the entire apparatus cranked, ground, rotated, and scraped. Through some ingenious design it gently lifted her until her ass was raised to a convenient level, and her legs spread open wide. Her wet and surprisingly aroused pussy was put on full display to what must have been the entire town.

A tall priestess approached Victoria on the stage, walking with a majestic dignity. She was dressed in a burgundy robe, fastened at the neck, but otherwise open such that as she walked it exposed her spectacular, muscular, naked body.

A person appeared next to him, asking in very accented English, if he was "Evan." He confirmed, and was led to the edge of the stage where he had a front row view of what was to transpire. He expected to somehow need to give Victoria support, but as he took a position on the edge of the stage, he saw that Victoria and the priestess were engaged deeply, gazing into each other's eyes. The priestess's fingers of one hand held open wide her labia, as if they were pages in a manuscript, while with her other hand the priestess gently slid her smallest finger in and out of Victoria's vagina.

As Victoria lubricated the finger, the priestess's committed a second, almost unregistered by Victoria. The Priestess's third finger slipped in with the others, her tattoo'd bicep now bulging as she held pressure up against Victoria's pelvis. Victoria began making a barely audible, drawn out rumble as her resistance melted.

As the priestess continued, Victoria rose as if partly from a slumber, as each of the Priestess's strokes wore away at the dam Victoria was struggling to hold back. The Priestess's other hand journeyed over Victoria's belly, brushing under her breasts, then back down to close in around the shaft of Victoria's now unsheathed clit. Her outer labia stretched even wider as a fourth finger was added. The Priestess's motion now became more careful as she accommodated not only Victoria's inner channel, but so too her pleasure, finding the points of resistance to coax, rub, and open.

Victoria tried to raise her legs high and open in the restraints, her mouth frozen in an expression of ecstasy. With her eyes the Priestess directed her assistants to release Victoria.

The priestess nodded to the audience. The crowd erupted. A drum now began a jungle rhythm, as the priestess worked her spells in Victoria's depths.

Her juices coated the Priestess's hand as gradually with the beat of the drum, and her attempts to push down, Victoria opened to engulf the entire hand. The gates of her vagina closed in on the Priestess's wrist as again, all around, the crowd erupted in cheers.

They now clapped to the rhythm of the priestess, her hand fully held by Victoria's strong core, drew imperceptibly inward and outward, each motion driving Victoria to a higher plane. Desperately, she drew her breath in, then out in ripples with the motion. Her low growl suddenly accelerated into a scream as from her pussy sprang a stream of clear fluid, arching out into the crowd -- it stained the stone dark where it landed.

The square round him exploded in cheering, everyone hugging and dancing. Evan would later learn that this ritual had presaged the health of the town's economy, and that Victoria's near record squirt foretold fertility and wealth in Quim for at least the following four seasons. Victoria thought she had lost it and peed in front of an entire town. Months from now, she would succeed in guiding Evan to that same place in her vagina so she would do so regularly .

After kissing Victoria so passionately that it made Evan uncomfortable, the Priestess and her entourage exited, taking the crowd with them, and leaving Evan and Victoria to journey back to their hotel room. They navigated their way through the growing masses, Victoria naked, leading the way and garnering bows and accolades along the way.

She was voracious when they finally got to their room, pushing Evan onto the bed, removing his pants, and underwear, she had his cock in her mouth before he was erect, and she relished it as it grew. Once she had him up, she climbed on top of him, and took his shaft up deep, riding it like a good cowgirl. She came twice before she rolled off his very aroused cock, and lie still reveling in the sheen of satisfaction.

Just as suddenly she was up, and famished. She went ahead to the dining room, now that she was entirely, appropriately, nude.

Evan realized that he too was famished. After having made his way past the well appointed buffet, he joined her.

"You'll want this seat," she said, pushing out a chair next to him as he arrived.

"What's special about this seat, beside that fact that it's next to you?"

"Pull out the one across from me," she told him, a sly smile on her face.

He couldn't quite yet put his finger on it, but something was up with Victoria. She had used her foot to push out the chair across from her, and he saw nothing particularly special about it, until he glanced down to notice, mounted on the seat was a dildo.

Victoria smiled widely when Evans eyes then darted to hers.

He was searching for words when, with a wiggle of her sweet hips, she said; "Yep, I think we'll have to adopt this at home, it's a nice breakfast tradition."

Smiling devilishly, Evan offered her a kiss, pausing just before his lips reached her, which forced Victoria to rise up to meet him. Once they made contact he pushed her back, her eyes widening.

Evan discreetly scanned the room as he ate his breakfast. Whispering to Victoria; "That's crazy, do you think all the women here are, ah...", he paused to find the word. "Stuck? Stuffed?

Impaled?" offered Victoria. "They all seem pretty happy to me. The waitress even lubed it for me, not that I needed it. I'm beginning to like this town."

She devoured her breakfast with an enthusiasm Evan had never previously witnessed. Once they were done, they set out to explore.

Victoria was enjoying a particular celebrity, kissing her was said to bestow upon people certain luck for the coming season. A kiss on her clit was especially sought after. She didn't realize this at first. Though the townspeople, men and women, were quite polite about it, the language barrier made it awkward until they had a moment with Kenra who helped to clear up the misunderstanding.

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