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The Impalement of Lord Snowdon (Pedo, Mg)

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on: August 06, 2015, 01:39:29 AM
Title         : The Impalement of Lord Snowdon  

Author     : MeatBot

Keywords : Pedo, Mg

Date        : 20150806

Mail         : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

This story :
     HTML - http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?topic=26330.0
     text - http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/ImpalementOfLordSnowdonThe%20-%20Pedo%20Mg.txt

My other stories :
     HTML - http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=26255
     text - http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

Synopsis : A nobleman falls in love with a maid's daughter.

Disclaimer : Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under 16 in real life.

These are just words, people. Just words. If you have a problem with words see a competent shrink or an English teacher. This story is all made up, and no attempt was made to make it historically accurate or to portray any particular time period.


                              --==+==--


I stood in the dim stillness of the hallway and waited on the maid. I had returned early from my office to my rooms and caught her in process of making the bed and doing all the little tasks she performed daily. I knew the woman, slightly at least, in addition to her pay I gave her a small cash present on holidays for her services, and I felt that I treated her fairly. I knew of other residents of the castle that would have raised holy hell if they caught her doing her duties, even if it was their fault by returning early. Though it was not a popular sentiment, I tried to respect the working classes, they performed valuable services for us nobles, and, hell, they were people too. My father had done this before me, and I tried to follow his example. I felt that it was a great benefit to me, my people were faithful to me and loyal to a fault.

The woman finished, exited the room and spoke to me, telling me she was done. I turned to her as she stood in the hall, a small cart of supplies in front of her. Behind her a young girl stood, a beautiful young girl. I stopped for a moment and made small talk, inquiring about her family and her life in general. She seemed surprised that I cared but answered my questions readily.

I knew her name was Nelia and I think I surprised her by calling her by name. She turned to the girl at last and introduced her.

"This is my daughter, Gailia," she said, and I stepped forward and took the girl's hand for a moment, raising it to my lips and kissing it like she was a fellow noblewoman. The girl giggled and I smiled.

"She helps me, now that she is... of age..." Nelia said, and I nodded. The girl was delightful, young and fresh and full of life, I could see. She was dressed in a simple one-piece dress and I could see her hard young nipples almost piercing the thin cloth of her blouse. My cock hardened perceptibly. The girl was charming.

I'm not an old man, by any means. Not for a nobleman. We nobles last longer than the working class, by virtue of our environment and the fact that we don't have to destroy our bodies slaving away at hard physical labor. I'm barely out of my thirties, and I feel that I have taken good care of my body, for a man in middle age. I was a soldier as a youth, and my body was lean and hard and muscular and I haven't totally lost that, not yet.

And... I do like young girls, though I'd never taken to one as young as this. My last lover
was barely twenty, and staggeringly beautiful, a peasant girl, true, but a rare gem in a world of rocks. To my great disappointment she had allowed another noble to take her hand in marriage and elevated her status greatly, though most nobles would of course remember her humble origins. I wished at the time I could have done that for her, but of course it was impossible since I am locked in a loveless marriage. I had foolishly married for wealth and status at a young age, and now suffered the consequences. My wife had benefited from my status as Knight of the Empire, of course, but there was never any love between us, other than a few months at the beginning. Within a year she had taken a lover, and after some agonizing I followed her lead, and began a series of lovers and concubines that has taken me to the present. I have been loveless for many months now, a rare situation I am not used to. Well, most of my relationships have been loveless, but I have grown used to the physical aspect of having a partner. Grown used to it, and yearned for it.

Anyway, all this passed through my mind in a moment as I stared at the delectable young thing before me. An idea struck me.

"Can you read, darling?" I asked, and I was pleased that she nodded.

"Yes, sir, my grandfather taught me," she replied.

"Follow me," I said, and went into my apartment. She did, leaving her mother outside. I knew that her mother wouldn't follow since I hadn't specifically told her to. I went to a bookshelf and selected a simple book of verses, one that I felt wouldn't be above the girl's level.

"Please accept this," I told her, and gave it to her. Her face lit up with pleasure. Books were still rare and valuable, though the printing machine had been around over a hundred years.

"Thank you, my lord," she stammered, and I shushed her.

"Darling," I said, "you are so beautiful you deserve a thousand books. I'm sorry I can give you but one. I will look through my collection for more for you."

She curtseyed, as well as she was able while holding the book carefully. I could tell she knew the value of books, and would take good care of it. I wished I had written my name in the front-piece for her.

"I will require but one thing of you," I said, smiling, hoping she would think I was joking if it offended her. "But you mustn't tell your mother."

"What, sir?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"Just a small kiss," I replied, and she actually giggled.

"I don't tell my momma everything," she said and stepped forward, almost eager, it seemed to me. I leaned down slightly and she pressed her lips against mine, in a fashion most un-littlegirlish. I tasted her saliva for a brief second as her lips were half-open and I felt my cock engorge furiously.

She pulled away and smiled shyly at me, blinking her long sensuous eyelashes. I was totally in love.

"Oh, my dear, that was delectable," I said, feigning a swoon. She giggled and leaned in yet again and we kissed one more time, this time much longer. I felt her little tongue against my lips, and I pushed mine into her mouth and tasted her sweetness. Oh, she was divine.

We separated after maybe twenty seconds and she giggled and turned for the door. I allowed her to leave, my mind spinning. I hoped my excited state wasn't noticeable to her mother. I watched them walk down the hall to the next apartment almost in a trance. I loved the child completely by then. There was no long slow ramp up this mountain of love, I was at the top from day one. I entered my apartment, locked the door, found a satin handkerchief and took my rigid organ in hand. I came mightily, remembering her taste in my mouth, and those nipples! Those nipples were simply to die for. And the girl had smelled wonderful. She smelled like a magical potion of youth, of sweet flowers and even a hint of honest sweat, and that excited me the most, for some reason. I smelled her smells and carressed her wonderful nipples in my dreams that night.


                              --==+==--


Several days passed before I saw the child again. I thought of a million excuses to be home at cleaning time but it happened naturally when it happened. I had to find some important papers but I puttered around, watching her as she helped her mother. I finally caught her eye and winked at her, and she giggled helplessly, causing her mother to raise an eyebrow. I smiled at the woman and left. Just seeing the girl had made me happy.

It was soon May-day and on impulse I left two envelopes on my bed, one with her mother's name on it and one with Gailia's. I put a few small bills in Gailia's, and of course a larger sum in her mother's, but I felt it would please the girl to get one of her own. With such tiny incidents we embrace our doom.

The girl came to me, that night. I heard a small knock, as I sat down to eat my evening meal, and went to the door. I opened it, and was surprised to see Gailia, looking nervously down the hall. I grabbed her arm and pulled her in, shocked. The guards and worst of all the major-domo would have reacted angrily to a peasant child unescorted this deep in the castle. I wondered how she'd ever made it this far.

"My lord," she said, timidly. My heart went out to her. "I just wanted to thank you... for the... letter, and for the money..." she said in a small voice. I knelt, and crushed her body to mine. Gods, she smelled good. I wasted no breaths through my mouth when she was near.

"Gailia... child..." I said, almost tearing up. What was it about this girl that affected me so? What about her touched me in this fashion?

"Darling," I said, standing her back a ways so I could talk to her. I didn't want to let her out of my arms but I did. The feeling of her small soft body in my arms was exciting me to new levels of passion. My cock was so hard it hurt.

"Darling," I said, "you must be very careful when coming to the castle. If you wish to see me, tell a page I will give him a coin when he fetches me or escorts you to me. It is dangerous here for a..." I didn't want to say "peasant" in front of her, out of respect for her dignity. I finished somewhat lamely. "For a young girl."

"I know..." she said, staring at me. I was lost in her huge brown eyes. I actually wanted to kiss her eyes, as foolish as that sounds. "I just wanted to say... thank you..."

"It was my pleasure," I said.

"You are very kind to me," she said, and I could feel her breath in my face. It was sensual beyond words, for some reason.

"My little darling, I love you dearly. I will do anything you ask," I said, meaning it. She laughed, though.

"How can you love me? You just met me a week ago," she asked, and it was my turn to laugh.

"I cannot explain it," I said, "but I do. Consider it a vagary of my age. And, I admit, I fall in love easily, especially with beautiful young girls."

She laughed then, and I laughed too, and squeezed her body to mine again. She seemed pliant and willing, in my arms. My imagination began to speculate furiously. The child was alone with me, locked in my apartment. My bitch wife was safely tucked away in her own apartment in another wing of the castle. We hadn't lived together in years nor had we slept together in decades. What could I make of this opportunity? What should I make of it?

I still have no idea why I loved the child so. Something in her satisfied a need I had, an almost overwhelming need that I had never realized. I barely knew her, I didn't know her personality, or what made her laugh or cry, but I loved her fiercely, with a passion I'd never felt for any other. It was like she, of all the beings of this vast universe, it was like only she was made for me. Just holding her in my arms made me happier than I ever remembered being. It almost made me cry with happiness.

I finally released her, and motioned her to the table with me.

"I am preparing to eat my dinner," I said, "would you join me?"

I was happy to see her nod. I fetched a plate and wineglass from my small cupboard, and served her from the covered bowls the kitchen had delivered to me. I poured her some wine, and she tasted it carefully, then nodded and gulped it down. I laughed and poured her some more. We ate, and I was pleased to see her eat daintily, in a mannered fashion that would almost befit a noblewoman.

We made small talk, and she giggled a lot. That really endeared her to me, and the bubbly sound of girlish laughter filled my rooms for the first time in ages. Her company was so pleasurable I hated to think of the dull silence that would descend when she finally left.

"Darling," I said, "does your mother know where you are? How long can you stay?"

She was silent for a moment. Finally she spoke. "Yes," she said, "she knows. She told me I could come. But I need to be home before dark."

"Yes, you do," I said. It wasn't safe after dark, not even this close to the castle. Brigands and footpads roamed the streets and a soft sweet young girl like her would be a prize indeed. I promised myself to get her home safely.

Before dark, she'd said. That still gave us a few hours, if she planned on staying that long. A lot could happen, in a few hours. I reigned myself back, though. This was just a sweet innocent young child. I couldn't take advantage of her, I just couldn't. Could I? Would I?

I am not the only one, I know now, and I knew it at the time. Children were cheap, in our time. And, there were child-lovers. The Baron Dulcimer van Houke was the most obvious, he was infamous for his dalliances with young girls, and he had even married one of them, the beautiful Roxanne, when she was barely twelve. She was sixteen now, and as wonderful as ever. I'd looked at her many times and speculated on what her charms might taste like. I wondered if he'd divorce her when she grew up, or if she'd still be enough to suit him. I knew he paid an awful amount to the church in penance for his little affairs, and an astounding figure to be allowed to marry her in the church. Every sin has its price, it seems, and the church must keep a master list of them somewhere, along with all their bags of money.  

The church. I harbored several grudges, myself, against the church, and I am proud to say I am now listed as an "enemy of the church" due to some off-handed comments I'd once made. I had been at my monthly dinner with the King and the Bishop was there along with several Cardinals. The King was speculating as usual about new ways to raise capital and I pointed out to him the benefits of removing the church's tax-free status. I'd said it originally as a joke but the reaction was so satisfying I pretended to be serious. The Bishop puffed up like a toad, and the Cardinals shot bolts of fire at me from their eyes. It was great fun and I think the King understood the joke because he seemed to play along, acting like he was thinking deeply about it. The church has never forgiven me and now I thumb my nose at them every chance I get.

Anyway. A child-lover? Me? I'd never thought of myself as a child-lover. Sure, I'd had affairs with sweet young girls, the youngest fifteen when I was in my twenties. But where did this one come from? I wondered. What about this girl had burned into my heart so? I still don't know that answer.

We finished, and she drank the last of her wine. I could tell it had affected her slightly, she was more giggly and sweeter than ever. I stood, and motioned her to follow.

I found my music box and wound it, and we sat on the couch and listened to it play several times. I looked at her, speculating. Why had she come? And why, most of all, had her mother allowed her to visit, unescorted, a nobleman's room? What did she think would happen? What did she plan on happening? Would I be accused of unsavory acts? What could a peasant woman think to gain? Financial recompense, of course. What would it be worth to me? What, and... how far, how far would I go? How far would the girl allow? I realized I would pay almost any price within my capacity for unrestricted access to her beauty.

I asked her if she had a father, and she shook her head sadly. He had been lost in the war. She lived with her mother and two brothers in her grandfather's house. And, surprise, I knew the man. He was a master of guardsmen. That complicated matters slightly. My heart saddened somewhat.

Still... there was a few things we could do... without going over the edge of the cliff totally.

I leaned back on my couch, and held my arms out. Just like it was the most natural thing in the world, she came to me and I wrapped my arms around her soft body. I wondered why she was like this, so affectionate, so ready. I wondered about her grandfather and the potentialities of his relationship with her. I'd ask, gently. That could wait. Right now I was happy just to hold her and breathe in her wonderful scent.

"Darling..." I said, smiling at her. She smiled back. What a happy, joyous child she was. "May I... once again, may I steal a kiss from you?"

She laughed, and nodded her head. "You can kiss me anytime," she said. She seemed eager. Our lips crushed together, and soon I felt her clever little tongue in my mouth. Oh, she was sweet. Her hot saliva excited me past all reason. How could I control myself, with this in my arms? What would happen now?

We kissed and kissed, that evening. I wanted to touch her badly, over her dress, and most of all beneath it, but I didn't want to rush. I had hopes she'd come and see me again. I wanted the progression to seem natural to her. I held her and kissed her that day, that's mostly all I did. It was almost enough. I had a hunger for her by now that just about could not be denied. I would have gladly died for her, for a taste of her.

I did get a feel, and I tried to make it seem natural, but I did get a feel of those hard little tits. She had almost no noticeable breast, though I felt a slight swelling, but her little nipples were stiff and hard. I rubbed her stomach and chest, and finally allowed my fingers to wander over her nipples. The feeling of their hardness through the soft supple cloth of her dress was astounding. I felt my cock ooze liquid, that slippery stuff that comes out at times. My breeches were soon wet inside. I finally squeezed and pinched her hard little titties, and she moaned and writhed above me. It was all I could do not to plunge my hand between her legs.

I finally looked out the window, and was sad to see twilight. I finally sat up and we untangled ourselves. We stood, and talked for a moment. I selected yet another book and gave to her. At this rate I would run out of books quickly.

I went to my desk and picked out some bills and a few coins. I gave her the bills, and told her to give that to her mother, I said to tell her I had forgotten to include the correct amount the other day in the letter. I assumed her mother would understand and appreciate it. Gailia then followed me out the apartment and down to the servant's exit of the castle. I went to the guardhouse, and selected a page, a large strapping boy that I trusted, and gave him a coin.

"Deliver this girl safely to her home and there will be more for you," I told him and saw them out the gate. She turned and waved and smiled shyly at me. I blew her a kiss and she giggled. I returned to my room, my heart singing with joy. I was happier than I'd been in a long time. And this might just be the start, I told myself.


                              --==+==--


The week passed. As more time went by, I grew morose, and wondered if it had just been a one-time occurrence. Had her mother been offended by the money? Did she think I was simply trying to buy time with her child? And why, I asked myself for the millionth time, why had her mother allowed her to come to me in the first place? A sweet young girl, alone with a middle-aged man? Her mother knew I lived alone, she cleaned my rooms, she probably knew intimate things about me that would make me blush. Why had she let her daughter come to me? And how much did she know about what had gone on?

I made myself a promise to do more for the girl than just taste her sweetness, if she ever came back again. I would help her read, introduce her to more cerebral subjects than simple verses. I would try to make something of her. I saw promise in her, promise and potential. I saw the seed of a beautiful flower, needing only encouragement and guidance to grow into something fabulous.

One night as I pored over lists of inventory, a heavy knock thudded on my door. I knew it wasn't Gailia from the heaviness of the knock and was sad. My sadness turned to joy when I opened the door and she stood there clutching a book, escorted by a page. I gave him a coin, telling him to return at nine to escort her home. I had heard the church bells ring a few minutes ago and I knew it was just a little past five. Oh, I though, four glorious hours, four wonderful hours with the girl I loved.

The fun started almost immediately. After a stuttering little speech about her curiosity about some passages in the book she'd brought we suddenly found ourselves on the couch, our mouths glued together. She seemed eager and hot-blooded tonight... and she was hot, her little body almost glowed. It's usually pretty warm in the castle in spring and summer, and she just burned me up as I wrapped my arms around her. I could see drops of sweat on her upper lip, and I licked them off, glorying in the salty taste of it. She tasted salty, but sweeter than the sweetest candy I'd ever eaten. The intensity of her tastes were unreal, to me. I could only imagine, at this stage, what the other parts of her body would taste like.

As we kissed I finally ran my hands over her body, rubbing her back, and finally descending, until I held her sweet little bottom. I rubbed and squeezed her through her dress, loving the feeling of the hard muscles beneath her soft skin. I slowly descended further, as she lay face-down in my lap, until I rubbed the backs of her bare legs. Then, my fingers carefully rose.

As I suspected and I'm sure is the case with most girls her age, she wore no undergarments. My fingers caressed the sweetness of her bare young ass, and I almost ejaculated. I was excited to an extreme that I'd never felt. She moaned and gasped in my arms, panting. I was panting too, I realized. I cupped her ass in my hands, and squeezed. It was too much.

At last, I crept a questing finger into the space between her buttocks. Her crack was hot and sweaty and it made me insane with lust. I finally pushed into it and touched her sweet little asshole. I cannot describe the feeling. I rubbed and caressed her anus in a frenzy of joy and lust. I sniffed, licked and then pushed my finger into her bottom slowly and she sighed, her tongue in my mouth, breathing like a racehorse. My finger disappeared inside her and I felt her body push against it, and oh, it was sweet. I wiggled it, and she giggled. I finally pulled it out, and brought it to my nose. Her scent excited me even more. I did not know it was possible to be so sexually aroused. I grabbed her buttocks and spread them apart, and rubbed her puckered sweetness with a mad passion.

At last, almost like a little wild thing, she pulled away from me and sat up, struggling with her clothes. I yanked her dress over her head, and she stood before me, naked. I seized her again, and squeezed her against me, our mouths crushing together. I could feel her giggling. I was a bit giddy myself, at this stage.

I laid her down on the couch before me. I crouched before her, and surveyed her beauty. I do love cunts. I have seen many, in my time. But this one took my breath away. Probably half-way to maturity, I guessed, it beckoned to me and I yearned for it. Her little lips were slightly protruding and I could see her tiny clit peeking out. Her slit was open slightly since her legs were spread, and I knew my tongue would soon be in there. Very quickly, at this point. I leaned down and sniffed her. She was incredible. I assumed the girl took baths occasionally, but I was sure it had been a while. She was strong and aromatic and it took my breath away. There is just something about the odors of a young girl's body, something sweet and intense. I love odors and I love the scent of a woman's body. But this girl surpassed them all. Just my nose alone loved her more than the rest of me had ever loved anyone else. She was just too much.

I touched her, and her softness was fabulous beneath my fingers. Nowhere on a girl's body is the skin more soft than her cunt. I pinched it closed, and then pulled it open. I pressed my finger into her slightly, trying to feel a hymen, but I couldn't tell. I wondered if she'd been probed, before, and by whom. I had accidentally torn a girl's hymen once, long ago, finger-fucking her, I hadn't believed she was a virgin until then, until I saw the blood. This girl was tight, but I got my finger a little ways inside her without difficulty or pain. I smelled my finger, and just about fainted. The scent from inside her body was incredible.

I could wait no longer. I leaned down. When my tongue touched her, my poor cock gave up and I ejaculated, filling my breeches with sperm. I didn't care, I was lost between her legs. Her taste was fabulous and overpowering. I knew no one would ever satisfy me again, after this, after this taste of heaven. She tasted strongly of cunt and mildly of sweat and even slightly of piss.

I'm sure that we passed an hour with my face in her groin and my fingers pinching and squeezing her little nipples or buried in her ass. I gave her pleasure, and to my surprise she had a nice orgasm as I sucked and licked her clit. The tiny bud of flesh felt stiff on my tongue, and I alternately sucked it and pressed it against her body and she came nicely. Her legs and arms twitched and drew up, chill bumps ran up the inside of her thighs, and her breathing became irregular and labored. I could tell she was cumming and it pleased me. I hoped that she'd grow used to the feeling and desire it all the time.

"Darling," I finally said, sitting up and pulling her into my lap, "have you ever done anything like that before? Have you ever had that good feeling before?"

"Yes," she said shyly, looking down, "my grandpa... my grandpa does it sometimes with his finger... he says he used to do that to me when I was a baby, to stop me from crying..."

I laughed softly. That was another thing I'd seen out in the villages, women masturbating their infants, to keep them docile and happy. I was sure that by now her grandpa did it for his pleasure as well as hers. I felt a little more confident about the things I did to her after I knew that about the man.

"So did you like it?" I asked, and she smiled.

"Yes, my lord," she said, and I laughed.

"Darling..." I said. "When we are alone, stop the lord stuff please. You may call me Alek, short for Aleksey, my given name. Please, darling."

"Yes, my..." she paused and I laughed softly. "Yes, Lord Alek."

I gave up. That was good enough for now. I was happy to sit there for a while, and hold her in my lap. She was soft and warm, and gods, her smell... she just made me happy. I was the happiest I've ever been in all my life, holding her.


                              --==+==--


The spring passed, and summer began. I saw the girl every few days, at least. Our times together seemed to get longer and more intense. It was, like I said, a natural progression. I got a little shyer about seeing her mother, and tried to make sure that I wasn't home when she did her duties. I was glad of the freedom she seemed to give me with her daughter, but I didn't want to answer any embarrassing questions. Surely, I thought, by now she had to have some suspicions of what goes on. Why does she allow it? Is she fixing to blackmail me? Why hasn't she done it yet, if so? Or, I speculated, does she have hopes of me elevating her daughter's eventual status by her associations with me? I had lots of ideas, but nothing except ideas. Not yet, at least.

I still sent money home with her occasionally, to help with "expenses", as I asked her to tell her mother. Maybe that was enough. What a polite, gentle way of whoring her daughter out, if that's all it was. Was that enough? The amount I gave her was probably pretty exorbitant by today's standards, probably more than she made being a maid... but was that all there was to it? I shook my head in puzzlement.

One afternoon I'd just gotten home when a page named Boris brought her to my apartment. I gave him a coin, slammed and locked the door, and welcomed her with open arms. We retired to the couch, as we usually did.

"Lord Alek," she whispered, her breath hot and sweet in my face. "Show it... show it to me. You know!" She motioned to my crotch.

I was surprised, but pleased. I had been waiting for this, feeling like it was inevitable. I wanted it to happen at her speed, though. But I had waited for this moment for the longest time. I wondered what had suddenly sparked her interest in my organ. With trembling hands I unlaced my breeches, and drew my rigid manhood out for her inspection.

She giggled, looked at it, looked at me, and then back at it. "Go ahead, darling," I said, "touch it. Play with it."

She did, and we sat there for the longest time as she pulled and tugged and played with my cock. I was ready to cum almost immediately, but I somehow held back. I had plans for that, later. The feeling of her hot little hands on my manhood was wonderful, and I loved it, and I loved her for it. I just leaned back on the couch, laughing, and let her play.

The strings of liquid leaking from it fascinated her, and she drew them out until they broke time and time again. Finally she rubbed her fingers in it, in the pre-cum as some call it, and brought the finger to her mouth for a taste. I knew from experience it had no taste, and I laughed at her puzzled look. She smiled back at me. I loved her more that moment than I thought I could stand.

At last I drew her dress over her head. I lay her naked body on the couch, and crouched over her and rubbed her cunt with my hard cock until she came. She was very good at cumming by now, better than some adult women I had known. She knew how to relax and let go and cum. I was proud of her ability to cum, I felt responsible for it, for teaching it to her. I loved her all the more for it.

After she recovered I flipped her over and rubbed her little bottom with the head of my cock, reveling in the feeling of her hot puckered anus against the head of my cock. At last I rolled her back over and rubbed her cunt again, finally relaxing and allowing myself to cum. That surprised her and she laughed aloud as I moaned and shot string after string of semen across her cunt and stomach. At last I was finished, and I encouraged her to taste it. She finally dipped her finger in a blob, raised it to her mouth, tasted, and looked thoughtful. We both giggled, and she ate a few more strings of it, finally announcing that it tasted funny, but good. I kissed her, and tasted my semen on her lips.

A few nights later, yet another of my dreams came true. She arrived early, we read for an hour, and I asked her some questions to test her comprehension of what we had read.

"Lord Alek," she announced. I gave her my attention. "My mother said... she said I could spend the night, if it's convenient... that maybe I could sleep on your couch, if you might allow. If I happen to stay too late to walk home."

Oh yes, that was a good idea, I thought, although there was no danger of her being banished to the couch. Tomorrow was the holy day and I did not have to work if I didn't wish to. After an offer like that? I certainly didn't wish to.

We had a fun night, with lots of kissing and rubbing and licking. And I have to say again in my defense that we did other things, non-sexual things. I'd even taken her about the castle at times, making sure she had a book or two in her arms, and introducing her as one of my students. I actually had a reputation for this, for teaching the arts and sciences to other children in the past. I kept an ear out for rumors about the castle concerning her and myself, but I never heard any. I have no idea what I would have done if I had heard any, I was too far entranced with her to ever give her up voluntarily.

That night... that night turned out to be very special, to me. The night she, at her tender age, became a woman. We retired early to my bed, both of us delightfully naked. We giggled and rubbed and I licked her to orgasm to warm her up. At last I reached over to my bed-stand for a saucer of lard I had obtained from the kitchen. I smeared some of it on the head of my hard cock and smeared some more into her little cunt.

"Darling," I said, holding her against me. "If you don't wish to do this, I will understand. I want to make love to you, like man and woman. You are still a girl, true, but please let's try, at least. I'll stop if it hurts you. You must let me know, I don't want to cause you any pain. There may be discomfort, but if it really hurts, please let me know."

She was uncharacteristically serious, and finally she nodded her head. "What you want to do," she said, "is what you want to do to me called fucking?"

I snorted involuntarily. "Yes, darling, the less erudite among us refer to it as that. I prefer to say making love."

"Yes," she said, and I felt her breath in my face. "Yes, let's call it that. Yes, I want to try it."

I smiled and kissed her. I lay her back among the pillows, and positioned my body over her. I probed for her cunt, and felt my slippery cock finally enter the mouth of it.

I am not a giant, where my cock is concerned. This was the first time in my life I was glad of that. I have seen giant cocks on men, in the barracks, or when they urinated. I had seen giant cocks in a hardened state, at parties I had been to, or when I had chased women and fucked them with friends. The King, it was rumored, had a monster that would shame a stallion, though I knew that was just the work of his clever publicity agent. I had once fucked a girl at a party who had pleasured the king orally, and she told me he was only "slightly over average."

I hoped I would not hurt the girl, because I really wanted this to happen. I wanted the pleasure for myself, but most of all I wanted it for her. And I wanted to be her first. I wanted her to remember me forever. And I wanted her to cum like a little wild thing.

I pushed in gently but insistently. I watched her face for any sign of pain and I did see it flash across her a time or two. I always stopped and waited, and at last she would nod. It seemed to take forever to get all the way inside her, and the feelings from my cock were intense. I loved how long it took.

At last I was all the way in. "Are you okay, darling?" I asked, and she nodded up at me. I was satisfied. I pulled out slightly, and pushed back in. She sighed, and hiccuped, and then looked at me and laughed.

"How does that feel, baby?" I asked, and she laughed again.

"I feel full of you," she finally said, and we smiled at each other. I began to moved against her, in and out, in and out.

She seemed to be enjoying it. She sighed, and closed her eyes, and I felt her body jerk and twitch at times. At last her hands began to curl up, and I knew she was getting close. I pumped a little faster. My hands were buried in her buttocks, pulling her against me, my finger probing her anus. My cock could not have been harder had it been made of iron.

When it happened I was pleased with her orgasm, and I hope she was, too. She just exploded, cumming with an intensity that I hadn't seen before. My finger was inside her little rump by now, also pumping in and out of her body and I hoped that would intensefy her orgasm. I could almost touch my finger to my cock through the thin layer of flesh that lay between them. It was erotic beyond words. I could feel her whole body tremble and jerk beneath me as she gasped for breath. She sighed and moaned and I could tell she was enjoying it. I certainly was.

I was so excited that I kept going. I wanted it to happen again for her. After another minute I whispered to her.

"Can I keep going, darling?" I asked. She nodded, and said, "Yes, please..." I was happy to continue. I wanted her to cum at least twice, before I did. I wanted her first time to be special. Every girl deserves that, even a poor little peasant girl.

At last, after a fairly exhausting time period, I felt her begin to orgasm again. This time, as it built and crested, I allowed myself to cum, and filled her young cunt with my seed. My cock almost sighed with relief, and damn, it felt good. My legs almost cramped, and my own asshole pinched so tight it hurt. I was pleased with the whole experience, I felt it had been good for her, and it certainly had for me.

We lay in each other's arms, my cock still inside her. I whispered sweet things to her, and she giggled. Her beauty and desirability had me hard again within half an hour, but I didn't want to over-do it the first day. I hoped for many more times like this. I wanted her to expect it and hunger for it each time she visited me.

At last I crawled down her body, and tasted my sperm in her cunt. I licked her clit until she came again, and then raised her body so I could caress her bottom with my tongue. At last I masturbated myself over her body, spraying what little sperm I had left onto her. Altogether, it was a fun evening.

Sometime in the middle of the night she awoke me crying, and I held her tightly and asked her what was wrong. Just a dream, she said, and giggled when I kissed her. Soon I was licking her between the legs, and at last I rolled over her and reached for the lard. Once again we made love, slow and peaceful this time, until she came. To wake up with her body in my arms that next morning was sweet beyond my wildest dreams.


                              --==+==--


There was a knock at the door. I was puzzled, it wasn't Gailia's usual time, and she had just been here last night. I went to the door and opened it. To my surprise and disgust there stood my wife.

"Well, well," she said. "What a surprise."

"Hardly," I replied. "I live here, after all."

"No," she said. "It's a surprise you are alone." She peered around the door frame, seemingly wanting to insure that I really was alone.

"Hardly again," I said, "I live alone, after all."

"Oh, it's my turn to say hardly," she said, her trademark wicked grin on her face. "The whole castle is abuzz about you, you and your little... toy..."

My face burned. I was angry, angry at her and what I knew was a lie. Just a few days ago I'd paid a page handsomely to tell me all the latest rumors sweeping the castle, and I'd insisted he tell me everything, even if it concerned me. He'd been able to come up with nothing. I knew that Luba was just fishing. Either she'd seen me with the girl or one of her spies had reported it. She was just making a fuss, I felt.

"Luba," I said, slowly and calmly. I wanted to scream "Bitch!" at her, but I didn't. "Luba, the heat has gotten the better of you. You need to go lie down. I have a student I'm teaching, but we have a proper relationship. You, even you, are better than this."

She smiled wickedly. "Proper? Oh, I don't think so. We'll see. And Aleksey... I'm offended that you haven't invited me inside. This is so petty, making me stand in the hall. What will your neighbors think?"

"They know the truth about you, Luba," I said. "You should return to your floor. This wing is not friendly towards you." I turned back inside and slowly shut the door, resisting the urge to slam it in her face. Her last mocking words sounded before the door shut.

"We'll see, Aleksey, we'll see what little boys do when their toys are taken away."

I gritted my teeth and cursed the woman. And I'd married her! How frustrating life is at times. I knew she was just trying to irritate me. She'd done things like this before. It was a probably both a cry for a little attention and also a way to show me her higher status. That was hard to deny although I wished to, her closeness to the Queen gave her the King's ear in a way I couldn't duplicate. I sat on my couch and fumed. I wished Gailia was there to comfort me. I had high hopes for the morrow.


                              --==+==--


In the end, I have no idea what really brought about my downfall. Was it just my albeit improper relationship with a young girl? Many in the past had gotten away with more flagrant affairs than mine, and possibly even with girls younger. Was it simply a lifetime of bitterness and hatred from my harpy wife? I know that she had a big part in my fall. And I know the church was my enemy. In the end, was it the King? Recently I had felt no friendship from him, in spite of the youth we had spent together. I had saved the man's life once on the battlefield when he had fallen in combat. I had opposed him politically on several occasions, but so had many others without dying for it. In the end he was my doom, via royal decree. I was not even given the privilege of defending myself at a trial. And Nelia... I really wondered about Nelia, if she had a part in this. How would my fall benefit her? The opposite, really, she would no longer receive payments from me.

So many questions, and so few answers. Ultimately, it all matters little. Our lives are brief moments of pain and torment, and end in squalor and indignity. I don't care what the church says, we are worms, squirming in agony on a stovetop.

We lay in my bed, and I hugged her to my body. Just the feel of her made me happy. Outside, the chilly winds blew and leaves scurried and whirled. Fall was in the air. I was happy, as happy as I'd ever been in my life. I knew worries lurked around the corner, but when I held Gailia in my arms the world seemed right with me. I did not know what our future together held, I speculated about it, but there were too many unknowns. I had no idea how long our affair could last but I hoped it was forever. I loved her that much. I refused to see the foolishness of an old man and a young girl ten years from now. I admit I was just living for the moment. Our happinesses are so rare that we must seize them when we can. We can worry about the future tomorrow.

I kissed her hot lips, and felt my cock touch the mouth of her cunt. We no longer need lard, we had done this enough times. She was wet down there. It seemed natural now. I hungered for the sensations of her tightness, but even more than that, the simple pleasure of holding her in my arms. I loved her with a passion I cannot even begin to describe.

She sighed as I entered her body and I felt her shake beneath me. Every feeling was magnified. I seemed to see myself from a great distance as I penetrated her. A peculiar lightness possessed my brain and the noises I began to hear didn't register for a moment. My bedroom door exploded inwards with a loud crash and a deep roar of rage rang in my ears.


                              --==+==--


I looked out over the crowd. Bloodthirsty savages, the peasants. Men circulated through the crowd, selling food, looking for friends, picking pockets. The peasants love a show, especially when it is one of the higher classes on the podium. The executioner on my right shifted and put his mouth to my ear.

"You're a popular man," he said, and I nodded. I appreciated his kind manner, if nothing else. He had been slow and gentle with me so far.

"They just want to see blood. They don't care who it is," I replied to him and he smiled.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your family was kind to mine once. It is not unappreciated. I'm sorry to have to do this to you."

"I understand," I said. "I bear no ill will towards you." I wondered who he was and what memories he bore.

"It's the top of the hour," said the lead executioner, striding up to us. "Let's get this show on the road."

Oddly, then he too apologized to me. What a job, to have to give your condolences to the man you were about to kill. The three of them stood the rough wooden cross behind me and unlocked the manacles around my hands. The guards below us came to attention, ready for any tricks on my part. I was past that point, though. I was at peace. I slowly raised my arms and placed my legs together, feeling the cross behind me. The similarities between my position and the last moments of the Christian god struck me as humorous and I laughed.

"Yes, my lord?" said the executioner that had first spoken to me. I shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "Just a thought."

They bound my arms, feet and head to the cross. I looked down at the crowd again. I saw Nelia at that moment, a serious look on her face. Though I didn't totally understand my betrayal, I wondered again what part she might have had in this little drama. I could hardly help but wonder if she had helped to kill me. I wondered what penance she might be required to do if it became known that she willingly gave her daughter over to me in exchange for money. I mean-spiritedly hoped it was severe.

And there my darling stood. I saw her tear-streaked face, peering at me from behind her mother. She looked so beautiful in the morning sun, she looked as beautiful to me as she had the first day I saw her. I hungered to hold her in my arms, once again. How unsatisfying that last moment had been, as the guards pried us apart, her screaming, me shouting in anger and surprise. My last glimpse of my bitch wife's face had been of her peering at me from the doorway, a satisfied smirk on her face. I had never struck the woman. In all our disagreements over the years, I had never struck her. I yearned for the satisfaction of that memory, now that it was too late. I had no doubt she was in the crowd somewhere, or, more likely watching from a window of the castle.

The head executioner placed his hands on my stomach and ripped my shirt open, exposing my belly. The crowd roared. Give them a show, I thought. Give them a fucking show.

I still gazed at Gailia. My eyes had not left hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She stared at me imploringly, like she wanted me to stop this foolishness and come down to her. I mouthed "Go!" to her. "Go! Go away!" I did not want her to see this. This is not how I wanted her to remember me. I wanted her to remember the pleasure and small happinesses we had shared, as she grew up and this scene receded from her memory. But I was sorry this had made her cry. That's what I hated most about dying, that it caused her grief. There is something about the tears of a child, something that surpasses all the grief and pains of the adult world. So sincere, so honest... and so unbearable. Yet another example of the things she had taught me, I realized. I had taken so much more from her than I'd given. I felt ashamed.

I stared intensely at her, as I felt the executioners grasp the cross and lift me into the air. I saw her mother turn, and guide her away, back into the crowd. I was pleased that she would not see the end. There was one last hurried meeting of our gazes, and I winked at her, and mouthed "I love you!" I saw her mouth move, and she replied in same, and then I believe she added, "Goodbye!" I wasn't really sure.

They lifted me into the air over the spike. The pointed tip of it, sharpened with a stone while we waited, gleamed in the morning sun. Ribbons streamed gaily from the ends of the cross. Children would be selected from the crowd and would grasp the ribbons and merrily march in a circle. The cross would spin, and I would probably scream in agony and then finally die. It might take hours, I'd seen it take that long before. I was sure I'd get tired of staring down at the wooden planks of the podium before it was over. What a spectacle I had become... a real crowd-pleaser.

I thought of Gailia again. I wanted to die with her on my mind. I thought of her beauty, her long soft hair, and the sensous feeling of her firm smooth body beneath mine. Weirdly, and to my discomfort, I felt my cock begin to harden. I then thought on less sexual subjects; I didn't want to make that much of a spectacle of myself.

I felt the spike touch my belly as they lowered me. Someone began reading a statement from the king or maybe the Bishop, I don't know because I didn't listen. I turned my head and saw birds flying over the castle. What a beautiful autumn day it was. What a beautiful day to die.


                              --==+==--


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« Last Edit: December 19, 2016, 01:05:32 AM by Meatbot »

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Offline Dgan

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Reply #1 on: August 06, 2015, 04:31:37 AM
You had me reading it and envisioning everything with the imagery and the way you set the pace. It was fantastic right up until you started 'fingering her asshole' (which there are better ways to phrase it) and completely lost me at the piss fetish. I kind of felt cheated a guess. It was going so well, building up the teasing, the enticement, the wonder and worry, even setting the time period nicely and then... Well, yeah. Different strokes and such but at least what I read of it was good.

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Offline Meatbot

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Reply #2 on: August 07, 2015, 01:37:40 AM
It was fantastic right up until you started 'fingering her asshole' (which there are better ways to phrase it)

Okay, I agree, that was a bit gauche... sometimes it's difficult where to go with this shit. I'd already said "bottom" a few times, and even "anus", though "rectum" and "anus" sound so clinical. "Asshole" is a word that's been around since the 1400's (Arsehole, actually), although this isn't an attempt at a real "period piece", it's a made-up time period. Anyway, I'll agree on that one, though it's too late to change it.

and completely lost me at the piss fetish.

The things we show about ourself when we write this stuff... almost embarrassing...

I kind of felt cheated a guess.

Sorry! I do appreciate your honest comments, though! And thanks for reading what of it you did. If pee and asshole fingering offend you, though, you might want to avoid my stuff in the future.

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Offline Dgan

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Reply #3 on: August 07, 2015, 02:54:25 AM
Playing with and teasing the rump, buttocks, auns, etc. (I'm sure we could find someone in Jr. High that would give us at least 50 good names for it) isn't bad at all. Hell, that's part of good foreplay and if done right can make a difference between a good orgasm and an explosive one (not going to say for who, but just yes).

It's something about having the word in there that threw the rhythm and feelings out the window. You had a good soft moving scene, a genuine building of trust and emotion then out of nowhere 'asshole' which kind of brings images of people you tend to think of as being, well, assholes. lol  I think even simply cutting it to ass would have been so much better and kept with the mood. It's like watching a great movie and having random bright flashes with loud noises happen randomly. I have to triple-check some of my stuff to make sure it doesn't do that and yes, there are only so many words. Thankfully you, like me, go out of your way not to use the same ones over and over. I appreciate that.

Somehow I'd almost like to take the first part of the story and give it a different direction or maybe tame a bit from the fetish side but again, it is your story. You definitely have talent to draw a reader in without over-explaining the scene. It's a hard balance to make and one you have a good knack with. It's very rare that I find something that has me wanting to go back and tweak it a bit so please take that as the compliment it is intended to be.


The trouble with reality is the lack of background music!