Right of First Night

Robyn stayed close to the Baron as they walked; it was surely not for fear of getting lost, as she must have knew the manor almost as well as the Baron. Perhaps it was fear of one of the Baron's servants emerging from one of the doorways or corridors and seeing her in this exposed state. Or maybe, and the Baron fervently hoped this was the reason, it was just because she wanted to be close to him, was desperate not to be an inch further away from him than she had to after their years of enforced separation.

The Baron kept his eyes ahead as they walked, determined not to betray his own desire for Robyn, at least not yet, not too obviously. The fantasy dictated that Robyn was simply a local peasant, rendering to the Baron what was lawfully his, and he was the dispassionate, all powerful baron, readying himself to deflower the latest in a long line of conquests.

Finally they arrived at their destination; the Midnight Balcony. From here there was a perfect view over the manor's extensive and immaculately kept gardens, illuminated in the light of the full moon. As Robyn steeped out, shivering slightly in the night air, the Baron turned to once again admire her bare bosom, which she made no attempt to hide from him. How he longed to touch them, to play with them, to never let go.

"You may now finish undressing, peasant," the Baron said, trying to strike the appropriate balance between keeping the fantasy going and not appearing rude.

"And as you do, I will tell you the story of why they call this the Midnight Balcony."

Robyn looked into the distance, over the garden, obviously feeling somewhat exposed up here on this balcony. But she had been down in those gardens herself, and would have never thought to look up here. Besides, who would be out there at this time of night? She started to slowly lower her dress further, exposing her lacy black knickers.

The Baron made no secret of watching her undress, but as promised started his story. Speaking in barely more than a whisper he said, "there is a story that, many years ago, one of my ancestors, my great-great-uncle, brought a young maiden up here onto this balcony to undress for him, so he could admire her body in the light of the full moon."

Robyn looked at the sky, comparing the conditions tonight to those in the myth. Whether or not the story was true, the Baron greatly appreciated knowing of the story, for in the soft moonlight Robyn's soft skin, her firm breasts, her bare, smooth legs, were a sight he would never forget.

"She was, understandably, nervous," the Baron continued. "After all, in those days people were much more private and conservative than they are today, and she did not really even fully understand what right of first night meant."

He looked at Robyn, eyes locked on his. The last time he had seen her she had been so much younger, and she still looked so innocent today, though it was quite obvious that she fully understood what right of first night meant. She stepped out of her dress.

"He asked her to undress and, despite her nerves, she did so, very slowly, hesitating over each item of clothing, blushing profusely as her most intimate parts were displayed to the entranced baron."

And now Robyn put her thumbs in the waistband of her knickers, preparing to expose herself just as her fellow peasant had done for the Baron's ancestor all those years ago. The Baron's eyes stared into her crotch, desperate to see that part of her that by legal decree belonged to him, for tonight at least.

Robyn took a deep breath, again looked out over the garden, perhaps remembering the enjoyable hours she had spent there with the Baron, then lowered her knickers. The Baron stared at Robyn's bare crotch, at the pubic hair that adorned it, thick, brown, curly hair. Taking a deep breath, running his eyes slowly up over her stomach, up over her breasts, up eventually to her own eyes, he finished the story:

"And it was the most beautiful sight the baron had ever seen. He said to her 'you are no peasant, you are a princess', and insisted that he had no jurisdiction over her. He asked her to get dressed again, and they stayed there, talking, laughing, enjoying each other's company for hours. Eventually, the clock struck midnight, and it was no longer her eighteenth birthday. The baron no longer had any right over her, and she left, still a virgin.

"That night she left the village and disappeared, never to be seen again. The baron spent his entire life seeking her, but never found her, and was eventually driven mad with despair."

Robyn had been listening to the story intently, captivated, her face lighting up at the Baron's ancestor's description of the peasant girl, obviously hoping that the Baron felt the same about her. But at the story reached its conclusion, her face fell further and further, until she appeared ready to strangle the Baron if that was what it took to stop the story.

"Um... that's an... um... lovely story," she said, raising her eyebrows. "But shouldn't we be heading to the bedroom now? After all, you don't want the clock to strike midnight with me left a virgin... do you?"

The Baron took the point. It was all well and good honouring tradition, but here was a beautiful naked girl - no, woman - who was offering herself unconditionally to him. He had waited years for this moment, and now he was stood here, with Robyn, he knew that his wait was over.

Even that slightly reproachful expression, that slight uncertainty as to the Baron's commitment to his task, that was part of what he loved about Robyn - she was the only person who would come here and stand up to him like that, even in that subtle way, yet she was also prepared to lie down for him, and he knew that neither of them should wait any longer.

Robyn followed the Baron back through the maze of corridors, towards the one room in the manor that she had never been inside. Though she had been given pretty much a free run of the place when she was younger, the Baron's bedroom had always been off limits.

As the Baron opened the door to his room, for a second he was full of nerves. Though the room was of a size befitting his status, and a huge four poster bed would be very much in line with a young maiden's expectations, the rest of the room was somewhat devoid of opulent trappings. After all, these days much of the grandeur was just for show, keeping up appearances, and nobody ever entered the Baron's bedroom except him.

As Robyn followed him in, her eyes explored the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Her eyes fell on the declaration above the bed, ostensibly the legal authority for what was about to happen. She let out an involuntary giggle.

"Have you ever fantasised about actually..." she read from the declaration: "exercising your right to claim her maidenhood?"

The Baron blushed. Yes, he'd fantasised about it, of course he had, but he didn't want to tell Robyn, admit that he had fantasised about sleeping with other girls. It seemed stupid now; it was so obvious that it should only ever have been Robyn, but he'd never realised until now. It felt like he'd let her down, cheated on her, even if only in his mind.

Robyn giggled. She'd always known him so well: he was sure she could sense his unease at the question.

"It's OK Barry," she said, still giggling slightly, looking impossibly cute. "It's me that's here, isn't it? That's all the matters." His tone was calm, but firm, certain, telling him that she knew this was right, how it was supposed to be. She'd known it long before he had. Everyone had known it long before he had.

The Baron looked into her eyes, her return stare filling him with reassurance. For many centuries his ancestors had brought peasants into this room with one intention in mind. But never a peasant as special as this one. He was a red blooded male, the same as they had been, and he had the same urges towards Robyn that they had had towards their maidens, but he was feeling so much more besides. Without even meaning to, without realising he had until he heard the words escape his lips, he said those words that would never have even crossed the minds of his forefathers: "I love you."

And that face, that stunningly beautiful face, looks that made him feel like a blind man being given the gift of sight for the first time, slowly lit up, so, so slowly. A smile that made him know that, whatever he did for the rest of his life, he wanted to do it with Robyn.

So breathed the words, as if they were part of her fibre, her soul: "I love you too."

Robyn stepped forwards, and as he saw her body move, her fair skin lit by the flickering lamps which bathed the room in a low light, he remembered she was naked, and his eyes ran downwards, thrilling at the sight of her exposed body yet again, savouring every second.

Robyn reached out towards him, touching him lightly, sending electricity through his body. He was already aroused, and was sure it would be obvious to Robyn if she looked down. For some reason he was embarrassed about the fact, still uncomfortable about the unfamiliar experience.

Robyn gently helped him out of his robe, showing the ancient garment the respect it deserved, folding it carefully before depositing it. As she removed his formal garments she showed a patience that was beyond what he could have managed. He cursed himself for dressing so formally: the costume was so impractical for the task, he just wanted to rip it off and get into bed with Robyn.

Finally when he was down to just his underwear, those long, itchy pants which reached down to his knees, he couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, feeling her bosom squashed against his chest, the warmth exuding from her body. She tilted her head up towards him, and he pressed his lips to hers, feeling her soft lips against his, forming a bond he never wanted to break.

It felt so natural, so right, and as necessary as breathing. She closed her eyes, so he did too, focussing just on the feel of her, the scent of her body. Without breaking the kiss she gently stepped backwards, and the Baron held her tightly, determined not to release her.

The two of them fell onto the bed, the Baron on top of Robyn, astride her, hands exploring her naked body. Robyn moaned gently at the pleasure of his hands finally on her body, and the Baron's touch became firmer, more confident. He was the Baron: this was his birthright, his entitlement. He'd denied himself for so long, but no longer.

The Baron's hand slipped down between Robyn's legs, which parted willingly. His fingers ran through her curly pubes, on to the unfamiliar territory of her lady parts, a mystery of which the Baron knew little. He explored her gently with his fingers, her face lighting up at the thrill of his touch, encouraging him to experiment by rubbing his hand up and down her lips.

Robyn wriggled and moaned softly.

"Your Lordship..." she whispered to him, running her hands down his bare back, digging her nails in gently, just enough to arouse the skin, not enough to hurt.

"My peasant," the Baron replied, exploring her body with his free hand, running it up her stomach, up to her firm, warm breasts, touching them, squeezing them, experimenting.

Robyn's hand found the Baron's cock, and she started to rub her hand gently up and down his shaft, giving the Baron a feeling of pleasure he'd never felt from his own touch. Her hand was soft and warm and lovely, her inexperience serving to tease him. She was holding too gently, thrusting too slowly, and it was driving him crazy.

"You can... harder..." he sighed.

Robyn's hand held a little tighter, her thrusting became a little faster, more confident. But she was too low on his shaft, missing the incredibly sensitive head.

"Just a bit... higher," he said, and she moved her hand higher, and that was good, that was right. The pleasure was now much more intense, almost unbearable.

"You can... harder and higher with me too," she said softly, nervously.

The Baron moved his hand further up her soft lips, feeling the hard nub at the top, wondering if that was where he was supposed to touch. He experimented by rubbing her, firmly but tenderly, hoping he could return to her what she was giving to him. Robyn's face contorted in a way that told him this was exactly what he was doing, that he had found the magic button.

The two kissed passionately, knowing nothing of the technique, but determined to learn. She smelled, felt, tasted so good. Their eyes were locked on each other, all secrets surrendered, the two of them united in body and soul.

The Baron's cock was now fully erect, and he could feel that Robyn's lady parts were moist with her juices. He could wait no longer for what his body craved.

"Peasant," he breathed heavily. "You are requested to surrender your maidenhood to your Baron."

"My Baron," Robyn replied, continuing to look him straight in the eyes. "It is yours."

The Baron took hold of his erect cock from Robyn, and moved it towards Robyn's womanhood, hoping that he would be able to work out where it went.

The exposed head slipped easily over her moist lips, and the lips opened for him, her warm, tight, moist passage welcoming him in. The head of his cock made itself at home, and he gently pushed in further, exploring.

"Slowly Barry," Robyn said gently, her nerves breaking her out of the fantasy and into the role in which she felt comfortable.

"Sorry," he said tenderly, even in his excitement determined not to hurt her.

"I want it," she told him, "it's just... new."

"Yeah," he said, his body desperately urging him to enter her fully, but his mind determined not to do it until she was ready.

He held her and he kissed her and he felt her body relax, melt into his. Naturally, as if it was meant to be, his cock slid further inside her, entering his tight, unexplored passage. As she tensed up, he stopped again, kissing her mouth gently now, his hands softly stroking her skin.

As she relaxed his cock slid further in, until eventually he felt his balls touch against her skin, and knew he had claimed her fully. Robyn, as unfamiliar with the male anatomy as he was with the female, looked surprised, perhaps wondering what was resting against her.

The Baron did not know what to do beyond what his body told him, and his body was telling him to thrust, to rub his sensitive cock against the welcoming folds of her passage, to take and retake her. And that's what he did, slowly at first, then quicker, more firmly, more confidently. Her face contorted with pleasure, and he knew his must be too, but he didn't care. Nothing felt more right than this.

He could feel himself being pushed closer and closer to the point of no return, the thrusts becoming more urgent now, the desire becoming unbearable. Robyn was breathing heavily, moaning, rocking her hips to increase the sensation, the pleasure. He thrust and he thrust and he...

His orgasm was intense, a strong jet of cum making its way into Robyn's body, and with the next thrust another, and the next another. Eventually the pleasure subsided into satisfaction, and his cock shrank to its usual size, softening inside Robyn as his thrusts became more gentle, eventually just resting there, feeling so at home, as if it was where it was made to be.

As the two of them cuddled up, so content in each other's arms, the Baron thought about the fact that he could have done this before, with the other girls who had volunteered. That... what had Robyn called her? Laurel. She would have willingly got naked and let him thrust his cock inside her.

But lying here with Robyn, the idea seemed even more ridiculous than it had when Laurel had volunteered. Even thinking of another girl seemed wrong. There had only ever been one girl for him, even if he'd never realised.

***

When the Baron awoke, Robyn was still asleep, a look of contentment on her face. So last night had not been a dream after all. Robyn really had been the first girl to stay the night. The Baron did not want to disturb her by getting up, so he lay reliving the previous night in his head as he waited for her to awake.

Not long afterwards, Robyn rolled over, finding herself on top of the Baron, and opened her eyes in surprise.

"Oh," she said.

"Oh," he replied, smiling.

"Good morning, your Lordship," she said, sleepily.

The Baron wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, enjoying the feel of her body against his.

They lay there cuddled up for some time, before Robyn spoke again.

"I need to be going," she sighed reluctantly. "My family will be expecting me."

The Baron suddenly panicked.

"Oh - you didn't call them to tell them you were staying! They must be frantic wondering where you are!"

Robyn giggled.

"I think they'll guess what's happened," she smiled.

"Really?" the Baron asked, surprised.

"The whole village will have been round by now, checking I didn't come home," she said, rolling her eyes.

The Baron didn't really like the idea of the whole village knowing that Robyn and he had lost their virginity to each other the previous night.

"Do you think... they'll be pleased?" he asked. A good baron always thinks about making his people happy. Doesn't always do anything about it, but thinks about it. Much better than them turning up at the manor with burning torches.

"Of course," Robyn responded, looking a little coy, clearly herself a bit embarrassed about her sex life being the main subject of discussion in the village.

"For you or for me?" the Baron asked.

"For me, of course," Robyn replied, a little bit too quickly.

"And for you!" she quickly added. "They were getting a bit worried about whether you'd ever... you know..."

The Baron lay there in silence, contemplating the implications of Robyn's revelation. What did the townsfolk worry about? That he'd never sleep with a girl? Or that he'd never find a wife? Would they consider both problems solved now? He needed some time to think about it.

"OK, well, we need to get you your certificate," the Baron said, changing the subject.

Even female peasant had to get her certificate proving she'd offered her virginity to the Baron. It was written into law. Despite the fact that the offer was just a tradition now, the certificate was important, as a woman could not get a job, a travel permit, or even get married unless she could present such a certificate amongst her identity papers.

"Yeah," Robyn sighed, looking a bit disappointed at the change of subject.

"I have to be 'presented' to Arnold, don't I?" she said, a little reluctantly.

The Baron gave her a look of surprise. How did she know about that?

In the days of the Baron's ancestors, peasants would not stay the night. Instead, after the peasant had given her maidenhood to the baron, he would parade her naked through his manor, taking her to his chief official. Officially this was intended to provide a witness to the fact that the maiden had complied with her legal obligations, but in reality it was an opportunity for the baron to show off his conquest, as well as one of the few perks of working as chief official.

The Baron did not want to embarrass Robyn, nor did he really want to let his chief official see her body. But tradition was tradition, and Robyn had specifically asked.

The Baron stood up and headed for the door. Robyn, still covered up in the bed, gave him a quizzical look.

"I don't think he'll want to see you naked!" she exclaimed.

As the Baron walked back to get some clothes, he noticed Robyn looking him up and down, enjoying seeing his nakedness. It felt weird for her to be able to see him naked when she was keeping her body covered up. But he knew that the roles would be reversed soon.

Having thrown on some relatively casual clothes as quickly as he could, he looked over to Robyn, who reluctantly disentangled herself from the sheets and revealed her beautiful body again. Robyn kept her hands by her side, leaving her body completely exposed for the Baron's eyes to explore.