The Dark Chronicles Ch. 07

My own prick was its own considerable size, and Em cleverly angled her arrangements, sliding herself back on me, leaning forward so both lovely breasts weighted down onto my hands. I thanked the wisdom of the carpenter who built this loft, for a handy rail was there for Em to lean on, and it was all quite structurally sound. We made no loud sound, but a gentle movement started and a faint slick slick of her wet juicy cunt could be heard, so faint. Afar, I heard a rustle of straw, and thought the Lady and her maid were truly enjoying the dumb show too.

Young Lancilet could not have spoke to save himself, his mouth and hands so full. Yet I thought Rednock a trusty man, looking to the boy who pleased him. The boy gazed up at Rednock looking down on him, and went back to his work. Even from up above, I could see Lancilet's eyes were closed, all in a dreamy place.

The groom pulled Lancilet's mouth from his prod, and he made the youth stand, pulling Lancilet's slim body tight against his own. He kissed him hard, and Rednock's big hands gripped the young man's ass. Emmy gasped, and was quicker with her hand.

"Go slow, Em," I whispered in her little ear. "I think there is an act two coming, a frolic more to see."

"I think it too, sire. Just the idea of it pleases me, and makes my cunt ache." She looked back at me with a red flame on her throat. "You might be quite older than I, Maer Maerlyn, yet certain you known how to fill it, my aching cunt."

"It pleases me, Em, that I please you, and all a filling up your cunt. But look, Lancilet drops his clothes," I observed; and Em clenched me with her wet dripping puss as she watched.

"Ah sire, see. His bottom is like two moons, round and strange in the sky, pale and white and all a round."

Below us, Lancilet was on his knees, his perfect, lovely ass up high, and his hands all gripping a rail. That carpenter, what a fellow! Lancilet was naked now, as naked as the day he was born. But I don't think his good mother would have quite expected this.

Lancilet's right hand moved to his own slender cock, rubbing it to and fro. He was making small mewling sounds, almost like a kitten, while behind the boy the big Rednock placed a hand on each round buttock, separating them to reveal the tidy pucker of the boy's ass-hole.

Slipping a spit wet finger from his mouth, Rednock applied his digit to that sweet place and pushed it carefully in. Lancilet bucked like a horse a twitched when a crop lands on its haunch, and I fancied Rednock about to pummel the boy full hard.

Emmy thought so too, and she whispered, "How is he to take that big prick in his ass? It will split him in two, it will." She wriggled wet and quick back against me, rotating her own bum and opening herself up to me. Sweet fuck, her lubricious cunt was the finest dark cleft and I deep in it. Oh Em.

But Rednock fixed the problem of his big thick cock and the youth's narrow channel, for he reached behind for a pot of natural made dubbin that he used to soften a saddle. He took a great glop between the palms of his hands and rubbed it quick, to make it warm and soft; then covered it all on his cock. What was left he fingered deep into Lancilet's tight back hole, popping two fingers in for good measure.

Incomprehensible noises were coming from Lancilet's mouth; the most I could make out was, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," and "now, now, now." Something like that, but I don't think the sense of the words really mattered.

The next big fuck mattered, that was clearly true. Rednock made sure that Lancilet's hands were gripping tight the rail, and his body could go no place. Rednock placed the head of his prick delicate against the young man's hole, and eased himself into the first thumb's length, where he stopped, leaving the boy gasping. Lancilet stroked himself quick to take in the pleasure, or ease the pain perhaps. I saw the great tight muscles of Rednock's strong ass clench, then he drove himself in all the way, 'till the boy's ass was right up against the thick hair of Rednock's groin.

Lancilet let cry a long moan, and Emmy answered, and the other girls too. A brace of barn owls would have made less noise, hoo, hoo.

Rednock grinned, and applied himself to the business of the fuck. The tight muscles of his ass were like thick ropes straining to pull a huge load, and he arched his back and thrust his solid thighs forward and back, and it was a long swathing fuck into Lancilet's tight hole.

'Twas magnificent to watch, to see how the youth thrashed back and called out all sorts of fuck slut words, urging Rednock to take him full hard, full in the ass and oh, sweet fuck, Rednock had his way, fucking Lancilet happy and hard.

All sorts of moans accompanied the two men in their heat. High girlish cries told me Miryamme and Elayne were inspired; and my Em was moaning for a fast fuck now, and I gave her one. Matching my thrusts to the same pulse as Rednock into Lancilet's best place, I fucked my Em and pressed her full breasts heavy and hot in the palms of my hands as I bent over her back. She turned her head back so her mouth could kiss mine, and we kissed, clumsily, for our bodies were every which way but sensible, in our rut.

Down below, I saw Rednock reach under his pinioned boy as he kept pounding in and out of Lancilet's plundered place, and Rednock's forearm went back and forth, back and forth, so I knew the lad's cock was quickly stroked.

I was getting close, and Em was squealing in her pleasure, and I hoped our rhythms were all the same, that we'd all come together; all a caterwauling in the stables, so folk might think it an animal not lust that they heard. Although truth told, I think we mostly be like animals in the barn.

Then Rednock led the final song, as he thrust full hard into Lancilet's body; and of a sudden his pumping stopped and his muscles were still. But his head arched back and his ass full tense, told me his juice jetted deep into Lancilet; then the boy cried out as if he were dead, or about to be, as that creaming pulse brought on his own spurting thrill. His body quivered in his ecstasy, all a shaking and quivering and spunking wet in the hay.

His screaming fuck brought Emmy all on, and she rippled and sighed, and her cunt clenched me so hard I gave up my juice and pumped it to her, three times and another one, two. Ah my, that was good, and I held her tight.

Rednock and Lancilet fell to the floor, still joined like dogs in their middle. Rednock held the boy firm, his big chest against Lancilet's back, and the youth seemed content to be there.

I softened, and reluctantly slid from Em's cunt, and smelled the thick scent of us both. She tidied down her skirts, and turned to me with a smile in her eyes and a laugh on her lips.

"Well, sire, there's an entertainment, sure, for all of us to see. Was a fine thing to watch, was it not?"

"Fine indeed, Em, and good fun; and a fine fuck, you and me. But look, there sneak away the queen and Elayne, both hot and red flushed. You must get Elayne to tell the queen's mood, 'twould be useful to know."

"Ah yes, I see it. A knot on my skirt, is all a secret?"

"Yeay, Emmy, another secret." I could make conspiracies with Emmy, every night. "But whisper it now; look, Lancilet goes."

In the stables below, Rednock tied up his britches and put on his shirt around his back. He kissed Lancilet full on the lips, and said a few words. Lancilet smiled, and hid behind his hair. The other man brushed the hair away from Lancilet's face, and I heard him say, "Don't hide."

Emmy and I stayed still, a tidying up our clothes. We heard a hinge creak shut on a gate, and guessed that Lancilet was gone, and the queen and her maid gone too. Below us, Rednock turned to the patient horse, who had served him well as a wall. He clapped his hand on the horse's rump to make him go forward to drink, then he latched the gate shut to the bay.

"Well, that was a bonny ride, a tight boy what likes a grooming, sure." Rednock spoke his words up loud, as if he meant us to hear. "A good sight, sire?" As he left the stable I thought his whole body grinned. Rednock whistled as he went on about his business, a swagger in his walk; an emptiness in his balls, perhaps, but not for long, I didn't doubt.

I turned to Emmelyne and said, "So much for well kept secrets, Em."

"Yeay sire, we not be much good at peeping."

"Still, we proved the capability of the railing design, didn't we, Em?" That carpenter, what a fellow.

"Didn't you build this stable, Maer, the last summer gone?"

Ah me, so I did! A good design, one of my best.

* * * *

"Elayne, how be the queen Miryamme, after the afternoon in the stables?"

I was keen to understand the Lady's reaction, knowledge being far better than a guess, and almost as good as making things up completely, in terms of usefulness and influence.

"She be fascinated, sire, and all a wondering at the rut of the men, of her beloved Lancilet and the splendid Rednock."

"She wants the big man, for herself?"

"Oh no, sire. You misunderstand it completely. 'Tis the animal rut up Lancilet's ass that fascinated her the most, and she wants it all herself. She not want the big man, no sire, she wants the slender boy. She wants Lancilet to love her, and take her in her darkest place."

"How do you know this so certain, Elayne? What be the clue?" I didn't doubt the maid's words, but sought the logic of it to support the truth. I could easily make up the lie.

"She whispers it, sire, over and over like she do, and all the while a brushing the doll's hair and pinning up its skirts and touching it, sire. 'I want it, I want it,' she says, all the time, over and over. 'In my bum, in my bum and I stay the virgin queen for Artur, and he always love me, love me, but the prince will love me too, he'll love my little tightness, just like his own, just like his own."

Elayne looked up at me, and she mimicked the queen. Naughty girl, so very cheeky, but she did it so real I couldn't stop a grin. Elayne tried a little smile back to be sure; and I smiled and tutted her on the cheek so she knew her naughtiness was safe with me.

But the queen turning to her back hole to be another tight cunt when her usual one was closed up and forbidden in her mind? A curiosity, sure, but I saw the strange sense of it, Miryamme's eyes opened on a high, cloudless day, and her body all a pleasured? A virgin queen no less, but a fuck ass be?

Well, that's a pretty notion, and I liked the idea of it. Many a man's been trapped by a woman's tight ass, and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm partial to a bit of bum myself, when the wind blows right and it's a nice plump rump. Even a prick round the front can be fine, with a boy on a ship coming with vinegar and salt from the islands.

"Encourage her to it, Elayne, whisper it into her ear. Lancilet sleeps on the queen's bed, you've told me that, so it wouldn't be much for Miryamme's hands to find his young prick one day."

I warmed to the idea, and my cock did a little bit too, as I spoke it out loud. I'd argue it a thing of state, an intrigue to know and control, but I suspected myself wanting it for my own curiosity. Still, sow a seed, and people only reap what they water. If the Lady didn't want Lancilet's cock, she wouldn't hold it in her hand, let alone crouch before it, her rump up-turned and her twinkling eye all pretty and pink.

* * * *

Artur the king had matters of state on his mind and defending to do. Men in long boats, with false dragens on their prows made of wood, were beginning to annoy the east. Artur was often away, marching soldiers and horse to the beaches till the foam ran red with blood on the tide, fighting the boats back.

Miryamme looked down from a high tower at Artur circlng restlessly at the van of fifty horses, saddled up with the full dragen of Britten bannered and fluttering high. At the sound of a horn he raised his fist into the sky, a salute to his queen; and he rode on fast to the east.

The queen watched as the dust settled, and she watched as the high banners disappeared over the brow of a far off hill. Below, she saw Maer Maerlyn standing motionless, his long cloak trailing all his knotted cords, the folds of the sleeves twisted and wrapped about his body. He too followed the king's cavalry with his eyes. Miryamme saw his shoulders drop, and wondered what burden was on him.

She turned her doll's sightless face to the window. "Maerlyn watches, he always watches, but I hope he won't watch me. I don't like it when he watches." Miryamme whispered her stuttering words, nervously fretting her fingers and turning, turning, turning her restless hands.

Whenever Artur rode away and left her alone, Miryamme's madness crept higher and her walking dreams returned. Elayne and Emmelyne worried, and kept Maerlyn informed.

"The queen walks, sire, her eyes all open but she doesn't see a thing." Elayne explained her duty. "I follow silent and creep on my toes, so she doesn't hear and startle too. Often the Lady will return to her chamber and sleep all night in her bed until the sun rises. She doesn't remember her walking, sire, which I think is a good thing, because then she doesn't fret."

Elayne paused in her telling of the Lady's walking. "But sometimes, sire, she calls out, and the poor soul, she sounds so lost and frightened. 'I want him, I want him, I want him, to hold me in his strong arms and make the dreams all stop.' It breaks my heart in two, sire, when the king is gone and the queen gets so scared."

Emmelyne looked at Maerlyn and said, "I wonder, Maer, if the prince Lancilet might calm her, when the king is gone? He comforts her, I know he does, I've seen them together. Lancilet is a gentle man, and he holds the queen's hands still. She doesn't fuss with him, and might sleep if he calmed her."

"I think you might be right, Em. The queen is a precious thing, and the king would want her peaceful when he's gone, fighting wars."

Maerlyn pondered the suggestion, and thought it wise. Artur, in his usual practical way, had said the very same thing only a week or two previously, before he rode south, alone.

"The kingdom matters more, Maer, than my happiness with the queen. If Lancilet can calm poor Miryamme's restless hands and soften her dreams, then perhaps it's for the best."

Artur had looked at his loyal friend. "Miryamme's madness is not her own making, and I owe her quietness, at least."

So Maerlyn conspired. He enlisted the groom Rednock to promise the young prince a regular pleasure, yet encouraged him to visit the queen, all allowed. Elayne left a door open at night, and lay facing the wall as footsteps crept silently past.

"Lady, are you woke?" Lancilet's voice was a low whisper. Long curtains shifted slowly in a light breeze through the window, and a rising moon was cloud braided and bright.

"Cousin, is that you? Quietly, quietly, don't make a sound. Little mice creep, they creep so lightly, their tiny feet on the floor. Oh Lancilet, is that you, is it you?"

"Hush, Lady, don't worry. Let me look after your hair, let me brush it."

Lancilet sat behind Miryamme on her bed, and took up her brush, rhythmically combing it through her hair. As he did so, her fingers that so nervously clutched at the sheet became still, and she took in a long, shuddering breath. Lancilet brushed her hair some more, and he laid his hand over hers.

After a moment, their fingers entwined, and after another moment, Miryamme turned her head to his, and they kissed. It was a slow gentle kiss, but before long she turned her body some more, and wriggled up closer to him, and the kiss became hungrier, her tongue darting, tasting his lips.

Lancilet's arms wrapped around Miryamme's delicate body, and she was fragile like a flower whose seeds blow away on a breeze. Lancilet was not as strong and solid as Artur, but he was there. Miryamme began her restless stroke of Lancilet's skin, but he held her hands firmly, and calmed her.

"Miryamme, my Lady, what do you desire, what is your wish?"

"Do you want me, want me, Lancilet? Oh, you can't take me, take me; not where I save myself for my king, not there." She pushed back away from Lancilet on her bed, and her eyes grew big and wide. "Oh, Lancilet, Lancilet, if I kneel before you, will you want my other place, my other place?"

She looked over her shoulder at the youth, and made it so sweet, so every day, to offer her sweet bottom to him.

"You've taken Rednock's big thing inside yourself, I saw you, I saw you. I saw you scream and beg, you wanted him so much, so much."

Miryamme looked at the man on her bed, and saw how his cheeks were flushed. She bent down and brushed her hand against his rising cock. "I want it, I want it. She shall not have it, not this lovely boy. She won't. His filthy sister. He doesn't want me, doesn't want me."

She turned to Lancilet and said, as if it were just a bird flying by, or the morning rain hiding the hills, "He just wants to fuck his sister. It's all he wants to do. But I'm his virgin queen, he can't have me." She smiled her beautiful smile. "Oh Lancilet. Can we play?"

Miryamme undid the buttons on her shift and it fell away from her body, revealing her little high breasts and her pale skin.

"Come touch, Lancilet, come close. See how the skin of my breasts is so soft, so very, very soft? My king spills his seed all over my breasts and I rub it all in and I smell of him. But he only does it when I call for his sister. He doesn't do it for me, not for me. No, not me, ohh no, not me." She caught herself, and made herself stop.

Miryamme held Lancilet's head to her breast, stroking his long silken hair like a cat purrs to be stroked, and his hair fell soft like gentle rain on her skin. Lancilet touched the shallow valley between her breasts with his lips, breathing her in. He tasted her with his tongue, wanting to find a trace of the king, but all he found was her faint perfume, a delicate taste left like pollen from a wandering bee.

"Take of your clothes, Lancilet, let me see. I'll kiss you too, lovely Lancilet."

As her arousal grew, and as the prince took off his clothes to show her his slim body, Miryamme's eyes grew big but her breath grew slow, and she fell into a calm place where her restless mind rested, her nervous flutter stilled, and her torment slowed and stopped.

Lancilet took her in his arms and they held each other, gently, softly, lying side by side on the bed. Miryamme closed her eyes and found a quiet place.

Lancilet was gentle with her, and she was still in his arms, her frantic mind calm for a moment, her nervous fingers quiet, holding his. Miryamme's arousal grew, and she rolled on to her belly, offering up her slim haunches to his eyes. She kneeled before Lancilet, as she had seen him kneel before Rednock the groom.

"Do you like it cousin, my cunny all pretty and fair? Come kiss it and taste it with your tongue."

Miryamme pushed herself back, opening her legs and revealing the glistening folds and lips of her sex. Lancilet licked her sweet cunt, placing his hot mouth over her centre. She pushed back against him with a low moan. He sucked her lips into his mouth and Miryamme sighed, a long shuddering sigh. "More, oh more, sweet Lancilet."

She reached back between her legs with two fingers, pulling the folds back from her clit, stroking herself with her own special pace, building up her arousal. "Ooo yes, ooo, more, yes, more."

Lancilet took her sticky wet fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, biting little nibbles on her flesh. Pulling back, Miryamme swirled her fingers to her clit again. "Hmmm, uunh, uunh, more, more."

As she pushed back against Lancilet's mouth, Miryamme widened the spread of her legs, and as she did so the enticing star of her anus was exposed. Lancilet licked across the tight pucker, and Miryamme gasped. The sound encouraged him, and Lancilet licked again, followed by a quick point of his tongue, thrusting in. Miryamme moaned with slow pleasure, and Lancilet pressed once more, forcing the tip of his tongue into her body. She arched back against him, wanting the sensation deeper, inside her, sweeter and full.