Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (36 page)

“The good fairy took Apple aside. ‘Since I have no
money to pay,’ she said, ‘And since I also dislike your King,
perhaps you and I can make another arrangement.’ The fairy waved
her wand, and a magical screen appeared in the air that showed many
images of Apple’s own life. ‘I know you are unhappy and lonely,
Apple,” the fairy went on. ‘But I possess magical knowledge and
magic powers that can change your humdrum, dull and lonely life
into one filled with love, laughter and excitement.’ The fairy
waved her wand again, and a magical image of a happy, beautiful
Apple surrounded by fawning lovers and piles of gold appeared. ‘If
you let me pass, I’ll share that magic knowledge and those magic
powers with you, and you shall never want for anything again.’

“Apple took a few minutes to think things over. If
she took the magic fairy up on her proposal, Apple might get into
trouble with the King’s royal guard herself. But on the other hand,
if what the fairy said was true, Apple would have the magic powers
to make sure the King’s royal guard—even the wrath of the King
himself—didn’t matter.

“So Apple agreed. The magic fairy waved her wand
twice, and suddenly Apple found herself spirited away to another
time and place—the mythical Land of the Fairies, who dwell outside
of time. Apple spent what seemed to be an eternity there, learning
all there was to know about magic fairy powers and sensual
sorcery.”

Lord Verdigris perks right up. “Sensual
sorcery?
Pray, milady, what is that? I hope you don’t mean
witchcraft. We burn witches at the stake here at Bellweather
Castle.”

I laugh. “Oh, no, not at all,” I say. “Everyone
knows that witches are evil. Magic fairies are all good, and use
only good, Christian white magic.”

A total load of crap, of course. But I know I need
to tread lightly where magic is concerned—not just because people
in medieval times are afraid of it, but also because I know Lord
Verdigris himself is a magic-user. I don’t want to burst his male
ego bubble by stepping too far into his territory.

I tap Lord Verdigris lightly on the shoulder with my
paddle and continue my tale. “Apple soon learned how to use good
white magic to make any lover she sought fawn and fan over her.
Soon almost every eligible man in the realm sought out Apple’s
affections, and brought her gifts of gold, silver, and jewels. Soon
thanks to the good white fairy magic, Apple was the richest, most
desirable, and most powerful woman in the realm. That good white
magic didn’t just serve Apple, either. Being good white magic and
not witchcraft, it benefitted whomever and whatever it
touched—Apple’s lovers most of all.”

I take a pause in my story to see how Lord Verdigris
is faring on the Cross. Just as I planned, my storytelling has
lulled him into a state of relaxation—he has settled back onto the
Cross, his arms and legs limp, his eyes closed, his breathing deep
and even. I lightly run a fingertip up and down the side of his
neck. “Would you like to know just how the good white fairy magic
benefitted Apple’s lovers, Your Lordship?”

A slow smile tugs at Lord Verdigris’ features. He
nods.

“Very well,” I reply, my voice low. “Then I shall
show you.”

I start by running my fingertips lightly up and down
the inside of Lord Verdigris’ forearms. My touch is soft, feathery,
almost non-existent at first. Then I work the pads of my fingertips
harder against the skin. Soon I use almost all my fingers together,
then my entire hand, until I’m stroking and massaging the rippled
muscles of his arms. He sinks deeper into relaxation, and his
breathing deepens even more.

I move from massaging his arms to his firm, chiseled
chest. I can feel his rock-hard, defined pecs through his silk
tunic as I knead and massage him, throwing my whole body weight
into the deep, hard strokes. I move from his chest to his sides,
then work my way down each leg, rubbing and loosening the knotted,
tense muscles of his calves, then giving careful attention to each
ankle. I rotate each foot on the ankle, feeling the bones shift
under my fingers. Then I tug off his tall leather boots and wool
stockings, and work on giving each of his feet the most sensual
massage imaginable. Once I finish, I stand back and admire my
handiwork. Lord Verdigris’ entire body is in a state of extreme
relaxation. He’s on the verge of becoming unconscious, in fact.

Except there’s one very important part of his
anatomy that is very much awake.

Lord Verdigris’ cock is standing at attention. The
tent in his pants is big enough to house an elephant. Maybe even a
herd
of elephants.

I smile and chuckle to myself. This is exactly what
I wanted. Lord Verdigris is completely under my power. Now, the
tables are turned.

Now, I am the mistress and he is the slave. I am the
lord, and he is the vassal. I have rendered the dashing,
powerful—and immortal—Lord Verdigris powerless by my touch
alone.

Makes me wonder if there really
is
some
“sensual sorcery” going on here.

I loosen the straps around Lord Verdigris’ wrists
enough for me to slip off his tunic. His breeches are next. Now the
powerful man is lying naked and prostrate before me, and loosely
affixed to a suspension instrument.

It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen.

Maybe being imprisoned in the Hall of Harlots won’t
be so bad after all.

I pick up my cat-o-nine tails. I’ve never actually
used one before, but I read plenty about them in my Medieval
History seminars back in college. I know that ship’s captains
frequently used them to motivate their slave crews to row faster.
And I know that Roman centurions used them to beat prisoners on
their way to execution in the lion’s den, too. But the history buff
in me knows far best of all that the cat-o-nine-tails has had
another popular use going all the way back to ancient times—a tool
for sensuality. Used in the right way (and in the right set of
hands), the cat-o-nine-tails can become the most erotic invention
ever.

The only question is, do I have the right set of
hands to turn some wisps of braided leather and metal studs into
something capable of sending Lord Verdigris’ mind and body into
another dimension of bliss?

I guess I’m about to find out.

I’ve never actually used a paddle on someone before.
Let alone a naked, prostate, tied-up someone. I close my eyes, take
a deep breath, and begin.

In my mind’s eye, I can see the well-worn pages of
the dog-eared copy of
The Story of O
I read over and over
again as a teenager, poring over the pages until the covers fell
off and the book fell apart. I remember how O described the
sensations all her masters evoked in her submissive body, and try
to transfer my memories of O’s story onto Lord Verdigris’ body. An
unseen force takes over my own body and mind, and guides me as I
start to land gentle blows on Lord Verdigris’ chest and arms with
the paddle.

Thanks to the work of the master carpenter who made
it for me, the surface of the paddle is smooth, almost buttery. It
makes a soft
thwack
sound as it slaps against Lord
Verdigris’ firm, rippled flesh, leaving delectable red marks behind
in its wake, like a trail of dry love-kisses. My blows are light at
first, but as I observe Lord Verdigris becoming more and more
aroused, I strengthen them, little by little. By the time I’ve
worked my way from one end of his chest to the other and back
again, he is breathing hard, his body writhing violently, his arms
straining against the restraints. His erection is enormous—pointing
at an almost 180-degree angle up towards his chin—and his glans is
sweating buckets of happy juice.The musky scent of sex is in the
air, and even though he won’t say so out loud, Lord Verdigris is
begging me to straddle him, take in his whole length, ride him
hard, and relieve his agony.

But I won’t be doing that just yet. I’m not finished
turning him on. Not by a long shot.

I give Lord Verdigris the deluxe paddle treatment
over his whole body. I work my way up the inside of one powerful
arm, then the other, building a little highway of paddle-slaps that
pave a deep red trail in his skin. With each and every blow, his
whole body shudders in ecstasy.

Once his arms are reddened and stinging in that
delightful way only a very light and loving beating can provide, I
revisit his chest, which is still pink from its first
paddle-treatment. I start building new roads there, crisscrossing
the original paddle trails with new paths that are deeper and
redder as I strengthen my blows. Lord Verdigris is crying out his
pleasure now, groaning, moaning, and writhing as each strike of my
paddle sends him closer and closer to the edge.

Now I have the man completely under my power. I am
the master, he is the slave. And now I know that no matter how many
harlots he has kidnapped, no matter how many knights and vassals he
controls, no matter how much power and magic he has outside of this
bedchamber, Lord Verdigris is at heart one thing and one thing
alone—a passive, submissive love-slave who loves to be
dominated.

And dominate him I will.

I withhold the paddle for a moment, holding it an
inch or so over Lord Verdigris’ skin just inside his line of sight.
But I don’t hit him with it. I tease him, making slapping motions
that stop just short of making contact. His body grows more and
more tense with each tease, until he’s practically weeping.
“Please, milady,” he begs. “Please, give me more of your sensuous
punishment. I desire it so.”

I draw back my arm, as if to send the paddle down on
his chest in a crushing, sensual blow. I bring the paddle down, and
Lord Verdigris closes his eyes and sucks in his breath in
anticipation of the pleasure-pain sensations it will bring. But I
stop short at the last second, hovering the paddle mere millimeters
from his skin. “Slave,” I boom, shocked at how deep and powerful my
voice has become. “If you desire to be punished, first you must do
something that merits punishment.”

Lord Verdigris groans, his body straining under the
restraints. “What shall I do, milady? Name it, please! I will do
anything,
anything
at all to receive more blows from your
magical paddle! Just please, please milady Louisa,
don’t
stop
!”

I chuckle to myself. I’ve managed to reduce a
powerful, time-traveling immortal knight and medieval nobleman to
begging and sniveling at my will in a matter of minutes. Not bad
for my first attempt at being a medieval dominatrix. Not bad at
all.

I think I’ve just discovered my purpose in life.

Since today is my first session with Lord Verdigris,
I decide to keep his slave tasks rather simple. I have to save
something for the future, don’t I? And if I remember my Human
Sexuality 101 class sophomore year, masochists need ever-escalating
amounts of pain and fear sensations to stay aroused. I can’t
exactly start with Chinese water torture and go from there. And
Lord Verdigris
is
immortal, so there’s no telling how long
he can withstand the sensual torture I’m capable of giving him.

So I almost have to stifle a giggle when I think up
his slave task for the day. “Recite the Greek alphabet backwards,
Slave. Twice. While singing. You may now begin.”

Lord Verdigris gives me a stunned look, but obeys.
“Omega, psi, chi, phi,” he sings, to the tune of
Greensleeves.
“Upsilon, tau, sigma, rho. . .”

I lean back against the wall and enjoy the show.
Despite the extreme state of his arousal and sexual frustration,
Lord Verdigris makes it through the Greek alphabet two whole times,
never missing a letter and all the time carrying the entire melody
of
Greensleeves
, followed by a tune I don’t recognize. When
he finally makes it back to the final “Alpha” he collapses against
my cross, chest heaving and dripping sweat.

“Please, milady,” he begs, his cock bouncing up and
down in time to his heavy breathing. “Satisfy me now. Bring your
lady-softness to me and carry me over the edge of the precipice
into your beautiful Fairy Land of Love. Cast your spells of good
white Christian magic on me, milady Louisa. Make me your servant of
the body.”

Damn it, Lord Verdigris
really
makes it hard
for me to hate him when he talks like that—even if he is a
heartless, kidnapping, slave-keeping bastard. After laying out a
gorgeous medieval pickup line like that one, I have to fight to
keep from throwing myself at him. I’ve reached my own state of peak
arousal, and it’s taking everything I have to keep my desire in
check long enough to finish the task at hand.

There’s just one more thing I want my slave to do
before I have my way with him.

“
Now
, milady?” he begs. “
Please!”

I cross one foot over the other and tighten my
groins to keep my now-flaming crotch in check for just a moment or
two more. As much as my sheath wants that nice luscious codpiece
shoved up it right now, I’ve got another assignment for my love
slave. “No, Slave,” I chirp, my voice cold and calculated. “First
you must give pleasure to my lady-softness.With your tongue.
Without moving from your place on the Cross.”

Lord Verdigris shoots me an incredulous look. “And
how, milady, shall I do that? I’m tied down.”

“Allow me to show you, Slave,” I bark. I hitch up my
skirts, straddle my bare cunt over Lord Verdigris’ face, and take a
seat.

He’s shocked at first, but soon Lord Verdigris gives
me exactly what I’m looking for. Once he gets his bearings, my
knight and captor’s tongue probes all my folds and crevices until
it finds my clit.

And what a tongue it is! My knight and captor is so
skilled with that tongue of his, he could probably paint the
Sistine Chapel ceiling with it. It darts, dashes, licks, slips, and
pokes all the right parts in all the right ways. Within seconds, my
clit is buzzing and my vulva are sweating a sea of slick salt
water. I feel the tension build in a delicious slow burn at first,
then relish the feeling as it spreads out over my vulva, deep into
my vag, and up my spine and into my lower belly, growing hotter and
hotter, meltier and meltier, until I buck and thrash and vibrate
into the most intense orgasm ever.