The Harlequin Pt. 04

This is a Fantasy, built upon a Fairy Tale conjured from a Legend and sparked by a single line written in a medieval town's chronicle. Do not imagine that any of it is real nor that I condone any of the activities in this fantasy. Adaliz is the storyteller and I, the mere recorder of her narrative.

The Harlequin stood at the top of the Town Hall steps and gazed down upon the townsfolk as they assembled below him. The Burgers stood, transfixed behind him. Two notes fluttered over the assembly. The crowds moved back until they were pressed against the walls of the surrounding buildings. Again the tune changed, light and jolly. Women worked their way through the throng of people with a jaunty step and took up position in the centre where they danced freely.

The Burghers stared in disbelief while the Harlequin smiled contentedly. The crowd of onlookers clapped and laughed.

The Harlequin smiled. They were all beautiful as would be expected of the women of the most powerful men in the town. He easily identified the Burghermiester's wife and his two mistresses, one of which was clearly pregnant. The Harlequin licked his lips lasciviously, he hadn't enjoyed a pregnant woman for far too long.

Turning to the Burghermiester the Harlequin simply said;

"1000 Gold Duckets."

"Go to hell," came the reply, "there's plenty of beautiful women in the town that will welcome me to their bed."

The Harlequin turned back to face the crowd again.

"These women," voiced the Harlequin clearly, "belong to the Burghers of this town. The Burghers have reneged on their promise to pay me for ridding this town of the rats. I am fulfilling my promise to them in taking these women with me. If I am not paid upon my return I shall take your women with me!"

A great roar of dissent arose from the assembled townsfolk. The Harlequin ignored them. Like the Burghers, the pipe had called them and bound them in their place. They could shout as loud as they wished, they still couldn't lay a finger on him.

With a flourish he raised the pipe to his lips and inserted a few extra notes into the music that filled the town. Each and every woman stripped, slowly and provocatively as she danced betwixt and between the assembled crowd. The Harlequin watched with great pleasure as he identified each female family member of each Burger.

He took particular pleasure in the beauty of the Burghermiester's women carefully watching as Burghermiester's wife stripped. She had a good body, he'd make her beg for his cock. The pregnant mistress in her swollen beauty distracted him briefly until he identified the naked daughter. He wondered idly if she might be as much the whore as her beautiful younger sister. He let them dance until they were all looking hot and full of desire for the local men before taking his pipe once more. He began to play a jaunty jig as he led them towards the town gate which again opened and closed smoothly and efficiently.

They danced and cavorted joyfully as they followed in the Harlequin's wake over hill and dale until they reached the magic paths. As the last naked wench stepped onto the magic paths he sent two single notes soaring upwards. They reached the peak of their trajectory and paused, orientating themselves before wandering off in the general direction of the town. They made no haste but dillied and dallied, stopping here and there to enjoy the smells of the flowers or tease a baby rabbit. In the fullness of time they reached the town where they hovered, just outside the town walls, for fully half an hour.

The Harlequin had reached the Enchanted Forest. He stood in the centre of a large clearing which was to be home for this collection of beautiful, naked, intoxicating and bewitched women, for as long as he decided. The women formed a large horseshoe around the Harlequin and, as the Burghermiester's wife stepped forward to stand before the him, the notes entered the town. One unlocked the gates making them old and squeaky again, the other freed the Burghers and the townsfolk from their trance. The Burghermiester's wife started to strip the Harlequin naked.

She stood back the better to see what she had unwrapped and to her great delight discovered the man of all her dreams standing before her. She drank in his height, towering above her petite 5'6" by at least a foot. His shoulders wide with arms akin to an oak's boughs. Each leg, it's trunk. A thick mat of dark hair covered his muscular chest below which his flat belly sported abdominal muscles a girl could wash her smalls on. And below that.... his cock, dangling out from a thick matt of dark hair. His balls hung low and full, each bollock the size of a duck egg and still the head of his thick, flaccid cock dangled a long way below the lowest point of his balls.

She stared at his cock as the man flexed it. It started to grow, thicker and longer and with each growth it rose steadily from its sleeping position, through to pointing straight at her dripping wet cunny then onwards until the massive member was pointing straight to the beautiful blue sky.

The Burghermiester's wife moaned with pure lust, reached between her parted legs and slid two fingers easily into her wet cunny. She fell to her knees and in a totally ungainly manner shuffled towards the object of her utter desire, the Harlequin's throbbing, pre-cum dripping cock. Wrapping her arms around the Harlequin's massive thighs she sucked first one then the other ball into her slavering mouth. The Harlequin sighed contentedly with a delicious inner smile. The whore was already his to do with as he pleased without the use of his magical essence.

Releasing his balls she commenced licking his cock shaft from the root, buried deep in the dark curls to the very tip of the bulbous, throbbing, dripping head. Using her tongue tip she probed into the eye. To her great delight it opened allowing her tongue to penetrate far more than she'd ever experienced. Eagerly she lapped up the delicious juices that seemed to flow unending from his cock's eye and down her willing throat. Such was the stiffness of his rod she couldn't bend it down so as to feed it deep into her mouth and down her waiting throat. She wanted it all. She looked up at him hoping the eagerness in her eyes conveyed her deepest desire to take him deep into her throat and feel him fill her belly with his spunk. The Harlequin fully understood what she needed, he had created the need himself. Slowly, almost reluctantly his massive pole eased a little whilst somehow retaining all of its girth, length and rigidity until it was almost horizontal.

The Burghermiester's wife's eyes sparkled with joy as she opened her mouth and worked the glorious cock to the back of her mouth and down her throat. She didn't gag nor did she choke just took the entire length until the curly dark hairs at the root tickled her nose. She chuckled and the movement sent shivers of pleasure up the Harlequins cock. It throbbed in gratitude which made her chuckle more. She came up twice for air, each time forcing just a little more cock into her throat upon her return. The Harlequin thrust his hips forward. The Burghermiester's wife pulled him tight with her arms around his thighs and her fingers stroking his perfect arse. He jerked. His essence flowed from his full balls, up his throbbing length and burst from the eye of his cock, to flood down her greedy throat and into her waiting belly. She swallowed hungrily as pulse after pulse poured out of his cock and into her belly. She knew in her heart that nothing should be wasted.

With his essence deep in the Burghermiester's wife he reveled in the knowledge that never again would the Burghermiester enjoy the pleasure of feeling his wife's expert mouth wrapped around his cock. Many other men would and the Burghermiester would suffer as he watched them fill her face with their spunk. But all he would ever be able to do was watch and wank uselessly for no matter how much he watched his wife suck other men's cocks and no matter how hard he wanked he would never obtain the climax he needed.

The wife demanded more but the Harlequin, having sowed the seeds he wanted, sent her back to join the circle with the promise she'd get more when her turn came around again.

The Burghermiester's eldest daughter stepped from the line and approached the Harlequin. He knew she was in her mid to late 20's because that was what his magic had stipulated. Even so she didn't look as if she was old enough to know what a cock was, much less fuck. She smiled sweetly at him. He returned her sweet smile with one of his own. Angelic, he decided. How delightful it would be to make her the devil incarnate with her own angelic demeanor?

The Burghermiester's eldest daughter saw before her, her fairy tale Prince. Tall, at least 4" taller than her 5'2", slim, fair skinned, blue eyed, delicate and caring. Like her his pubic area was lightly covered with the first hints of pubic hair. There was no other hair on his body other than his head where it flowed in soft, golden curls down to his shoulders. She didn't look at his cock initially. Having no experience at all she had no image in her mind as to what it should look like, thus giving her no reason to look other than from curiosity.

Curiosity came upon her when she thought she caught a glimpse of it jerking upwards suddenly. She looked at it carefully, hoping to confirm that it had moved, seemingly of it's own accord. She noted that it was long, slim and virtually white, just as she was 'down there'. It was just dangling and with nothing to judge it by, only saw that the tip extended just a little below the strange bag that hung beneath. She was almost bored with waiting when it clearly twitched. She grinned and looked straight at the Harlequin.

"Do it again," she begged.

The Harlequin laughed at her delight and made his long, slim, white cock dance for her pleasure. As it grew it became stiffer and he ended his little display with it jutting out straight in front, pointing directly at her flat belly. From the end dribbled a thin string of his essence.

"What's that?" she whispered curiously.

"That, My Angle is the most delicious substance you will ever taste. Try a little," he coaxed gently.

She knelt obediently and stuck out her tongue. The Harlequin waited. Closing her eyes she leaned forward and passed her tongue through the thin string of essence. It broke and draped over her tongue. Scooping it up with a finger she placed it all on her tongue and pulled it back into her mouth...

She trembled uncontrollably as slivers of fire sped through her naked body. Her fingers and toes tingled with excitement. Her small breasts ached to be touched and her nipples were so hard and erect they hurt. In total surprise she touched them and immediately more of the fire spread, across her flat belly, down through the sparse, fair hair on her mons and down to that place at the top of her legs that felt nice when she accidentally touched it every night before sleep.

Looking up quickly into the Harlequin's eyes she saw him smile happily. She took this a sign that there was more of the delicious juice if she should wish. She didn't ask nor did she hesitate. Her lips wrapped around the man's cock and she sucked and stroked for all she was worth. The Harlequin allowed her to enjoy his cock longer than her Mother had before opening the flood gates and pouring copious quantities deep into the maiden's mouth. She didn't loose a single drop and ensured none was left on the man's shaft without instruction or indication as to what was required of her.

She stood, licked her lips lustfully, kissed the Harlequin firmly on the lips, said a polite 'Thank you' and returned to her place in the line without any words of instruction from the man whatsoever.

And so it went on until all the females, young and old, had tasted the Harlequin's essence, drunk copiously of his nectar and returned happy and carefree to their place in the line.

The Burghermiester's wife came to stand before the Harlequin once more. To his great surprise she saw not the dark swarthy man that her mind created on her first visit but that of a far slighter man, slim, pale and light of hair and manner. A blacksmith AND a candle-maker? asked the Harlequin of himself. He chuckled silently, the two men had one thing in common. A beautiful cock, different but nonetheless both beautiful.

The woman knelt without instruction and leaned towards the throbbing cock before her. Just as she was about to slip the beautiful cock into her mouth the Harlequin stopped her with these words.

"Your Daughter is not the Daughter of your husband?" he asked quietly.

Her head jerked backwards, her face a picture of horror and fear.

"Do not be alarmed," his mind told hers, "your secret is perfectly safe with me, I promise and I always keep my promises."

The woman instantly relaxed. Despite not hearing one word she knew that the man had told her the truth. The Harlequin waited patiently. The woman started to speak, stopped and looked around worriedly.

"Speak the words in your head," the Harlequin's mind said to hers, "only I shall hear and only you shall hear my voice in return."

The woman paused to gather her thoughts.

"My husband," she started, "is a pig! An arrogant, self-centered, bullying pig! To make matters even worse his silly little willy is no bigger than your little finger and that's when it's erect! I couldn't deep throat him even if I wanted to and I don't. His piddly little cock doesn't even reach the back of my mouth much less enter my throat. You've seen all the Burghers, not one is remotely good looking. Never were, even in their youth. The rich kids of rich parents. Look at their Mothers, Wives, Daughters and Sisters, every one beautiful. Why? Because in today's world a girl has to make her own way in life and the best way is to find a rich man and open her legs and mouth and anything else he wants and just pretend it's the greatest thing ever. Never mind that he is a pig, just lay back, open wide, do whatever he wishes and think of the wealth and power it brings."

"He doesn't suspect?"

"None of them do! They think that they are so very important that nobody would dare touch their women. They are full of themselves and believe that they are the best lovers a woman could ever want. Ergo we wouldn't dream of taking lovers. In a way it makes it a lot easier. They don't suspect so we can behave quite normally, most of the time."

"And the pregnancies?"

The woman chuckled in her mind.

"Take the candle maker. He makes excellent candles. We purchase all our candles from him. He calls when my husband is home and he calls when he is not. On his second visit, many years ago, he happened to call when my husband was away for four nights. He went through his stock of candles and I selected those that we wished to purchase. The staff left us to it. After I'd made my choices he brought in a large box from his covered cart and set it upon the table. I was intrigued.

"These are very special candles. You don't light them, they light you and the fires within. They allow you to keep them stoked and burning bright for as long as you desire," he explained as he lifted the lid.

I looked inside eagerly. There, covered by a soft, burgundy coloured, velvet cloth were the most delicious phallic artifacts a woman could imagine. I lifted one reverently, held it in my hands and stroked it across my face until it was against my lips. I licked the knob end and parted my lips automatically taking it until my mouth was full. Totally careless of the fact that it was only a candle.

"You like?" he asked proudly.

"I love," I told him after releasing the beautiful thing from my mouth.

He smiled at me.

"I modeled it upon my own device,' he said rather grandly.

I looked at him. Tall, slim and pale of complexion. Well, the candle was certainly the right colour, a delicious translucent pale pink with a big, bulbous dark purple head. I looked from the candle to the young man and back. It didn't seem that he would have enough blood in his body to fill such a device.

"You may judge for yourself m'Lady," he invited.

I instantly dropped to my knees, unfastened his buckle and dropped his pantaloons to the floor. There it was, before me, dangling so very invitingly with a little dribble of pleasure dangling off the very end well beyond the bottom of his big ball sac.

He passed me a candle in the form of a soft dangling cock. The candle was firm and totally usable as a phallus. It was also the image of the cock before me. Reaching forward I took the cock into my hand and stroked it tenderly. It grew and the next candle passed to me was yet another replica of the beautiful cock in my hand. By the time I took the real cock into my mouth for the first time I had the replica between my legs and sliding in and out of my wet pussy.

I suggested that the candle-maker could use one of the empty stables to manufacture the candles for my order during the day if he was prepared to use his device on me each night. He accepted. We fucked all night and in the morning, before the staff arose, he was in his bed, alone. My husband liked the candles and suggested that we always purchased the man's wares and that he used the stables and slept and ate with the staff while he was doing so. And fucking me senseless when my husband was absent.

If the candle-maker had visited while my husband was away I made sure that my husband's cock was close enough to my pussy to have at least a chance of impregnating me when he shot his tiny load out the end of the feeble excuse for a cock. Otherwise, if the candle-maker hadn't visited I did whatever my husband required after his return, as always. Nothing needed to change.

I recommended the candle-maker's wares to all the other Burghers wives. We stick together, always. Giselle's Father, the blacksmith, was recommended to me by a Burghers wife. You will find as you go through all your women that none have borne their husband's child, even my husband's mistress is carrying the baker's child, and many have a child or children by the same man."

Once she'd finished her story she looked up at the Harlequin lovingly.

"Fuck me! Please," she begged naughtily.

And so it proved to be. Not one woman had had any regard for her husband. The Mothers had no regard for their Fathers. Sisters and Daughters were no different. When the Harlequin had taken his pleasure of each of the women and they were all contentedly well fucked he sought out the Burghermiester's wife once more.

He fucked her long and slow while his magic filled her mind with his ideas for the future of the town.

"We shall all help you," she whispered as she left to return to her own kind.

=== === ===

Dusk fell and the Harlequin bid goodnight to the women knowing that the Enchanted Forest would attend their needs with the exception of cock, of course. They would need to find their own solution to that need and he had every confidence that it would not pose a serious problem.

He set off back into the forest. After a few strides he sent his notes high into the darkening sky and Adaliz, Stefan, Anne, Giselle and Rudolph met him at the pool. He told them of his findings and Giselle smiled a 'I told you so' type of smile. Giselle slept with Stefan that night while Rudolph and Anne shared a bed. Adaliz and the Harlequin slept together, reaffirming their love for each other.

For the next three full days the Harlequin circulated through all his charges. With the smallest children he played silly, childish games, sang with them and played 'ordinary' tunes on his pipes, purely for their pleasure. In the evening he told them happy stories, made them laugh and sent them to sleep happy and content.

With the young adults he encouraged them to explore their pleasures allowing those that wished, to avail themselves of his body. Others he pleasured simply for the gratification of seeing them go away full of joy and happiness. He used no magic music, elixirs nor potions nor did he find the need to refresh the original potions. They were, to a one, utterly content with their situation.