Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (48 page)

Pembroke has gone purple. Whatever his original plan
was at making the “exclusive” suggestion to Lord Verdigris, this
obviously wasn’t the outcome he was hoping for. And Trenton looks
about three seconds away from exacting his long-sought vengeance
against Lord Verdigris on the spot. If I don’t do something drastic
pretty quick, I could very well be splattered with blood when
Trenton decapitates him.

I reach out and take both of Lord Verdigris’ huge
hands in my own. “Stay, stay, milord,” I coo, doing my best to play
to his fragile ego. “Surely you recall that ‘tis not yet midnight,
and by your own merciful and generous order, all the Harlots are
free to roam and make merry until midnight, when the Harlot’s Ball
comes to an end. And if I know you well, my lord, I know that yours
is a merciful and generous heart, one that would not go back on his
word to anyone, least of all his favorite Harlot. Am I right?”

My words seem to have the desired effect, because
Lord Verdigris immediately balks and frowns. “Yea, ye speak true,
my lady Louisa. Forgive me my impertinence. I am just so enamored
with ye, I quite lost my head.”

Great. I’ve got the lord of the manor apologizing to
me—and in public. I’m beginning to sense our old
dominant-submissive relationship falling right back into place.

My plan is working perfectly. “I shall forgive you,
my lord, on one condition.”

“And what’s that, my lady?”

“That you shall now obey my orders of sensual
sorcery here on your very own embattled roof, in the presence of
these other lords and one lady,” I declare in my best
medieval-dominatrix-extraordinaire voice. “I promise, my lord, that
if you pay my heed and do my bidding forthwith, I shall not only
forgive your impertinence, I shall also grant you the most
unparalleled satisfaction of your sensual desires that you have
ever encountered in all your many travels.”

Well,
that
got his attention, all right.
Before I can say another word, Lord Verdigris is groveling at my
feet. Literally.

Jaclyn’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “How did
you do that?” she mouths at me silently.

I just tap a silent finger to my nose, and
smile.

When you’ve got it, you’ve got it. And I’ve got it,
big-time.

“Good, my lord,” I tell the groveling Lord
Verdigris. “You are a fine and obedient slave.”

Now it’s Pembroke’s turn to be stunned.
“Slave?”
he whispers. I motion for him to be silent; he is.
And Trenton’s expression has gone from anger and revulsion at Lord
Verdigris to pure awe and admiration of me.

I’m in charge here now. And it’s high time I started
putting my master plan in motion.

“My lord Verdigris, please call off your guard. Send
him away. He has no place in what we are about to do.”

Without a word, Lord Verdigris gestures for his
hulking armored guard to leave. With a look of bitter
disappointment, he does, dragging his steel-encased feet all the
way.

“Good, my lord. Now you will go stand on the far end
of the battlement, over by the north tower.” (The very same tower
where he first took me, I might add.)

He silently obeys without question. Pembroke,
Trenton, and Jaclyn all stare, open-mouthed.

“Don’t be so surprised, boys,” I coo at the two men.
“After all, I’ve had the two of you eating out of my hand often
enough.”

I head over to the far side of the battlement and
motion for the rest of the assembled group to follow me. Lord
Verdigris cowers against the wall, obviously in fear of my sensual
power—but also quaking with desire.

“Pray, what is your next command, my lady?” he
begs.

“You will disrobe, Slave. And then you will be
silent.”

Without a word, Lord Verdigris begins unlacing his
tunic.

Now that I have His Lordship under my complete
control, I turn my attentions to the rest of my comrades. “Folks, I
think we have a golden opportunity here to enjoy a little of my
sensual sorcery. A golden opportunity that might just lead to the
ultimate opportunity that all of us have been searching for.” I
raise my eyebrows at Pembroke, Trenton, and Jaclyn, hoping they’ll
get my meaning. “Are you game to participate?”

They all smile and nod.

“All right. Boys, I think I know you both want to be
bottoms, right?” They nod. “Jaclyn, tops or bottoms?”

Jaclyn grins, and straightens her Egyptian snake
headdress. “Tops, if you don’t mind. We’ll tag-team it. And call me
Madam Jasphet for the time being.”

“Tag team it is, Madam Jasphet,” I say, and clap my
hands to call things to order. “Pembroke, you shall also be my
slave for today. Trenton, you belong to Madam Jasphet. Do you
accept these assignments?”

They both nod in the affirmative.

“Good. Pembroke, you will disrobe and go stand
beside your fellow Slave, Lord Verdigris.” I nod at Jaclyn—Madam
Jasphet, I mean—giving her the cue to begin her own domination
game.

Instead of giving orders, Madam Jasphet unwraps a
long knotted cord from her waist and uses it to tie Trenton’s arms
behind his back. Then she removes the golden eagle from her
headdress, flips open a hidden lid at its top, and takes out a tiny
golden needle, which she waves underneath Trenton’s nose. “You are
The Rose Knight, are you not?”

He nods, eyes lowered.

“Then surely you know that roses have thorns.”

He nods again, and smiles.

“Do you wish to have a little romance with me, a
rose with thorns, my lord?” Madam Jasphet asks, gently running the
sharp point of the needle up and down the inside of Trenton’s
arm.

“Yes, milady,” he whispers, breathless.

“And so it shall be done, Slave,” she declares, then
uses the dangling end of the knotted cord around his wrists to flip
him up against the wall. When his body hits the wall flagstones
with a
thud
, Trenton utters a sigh of ecstasy.

This is about to get interesting.
Very
interesting.

I watch with relish as Pembroke and Lord Verdigris
both strip naked before me. His Lordship is quite a bit further
along since he had a head start—he’s down to nothing but his linen
loincloth and tall leather boots. Pembroke, on the other hand, is
taking his sweet time getting out of his Regency finery, turning it
into a sexy nineteenth-century striptease. First goes the silk
cravat, which as far as I can tell, involves at least nine layers
of intricate knots, ties, and folds. That accomplished, Pembroke’s
silvery waistcoat is next—which takes quite a while, because
removing it involves unfastening at least thirty silver buttons,
every one of which Pembroke fingers, flips, and caresses as
tenderly as he will soon use on the tender button between my legs.
Once that task is complete, he leaves the waistcoat hanging open,
and pulls off his aquamarine satin frock coat one sleeve at a time,
tossing it over the shoulder runway-model style before casting it
aside. He sashays the waistcoat off in the same saucy fashion,
twirling it around on one finger before tossing it at my feet.The
bulge at his crotch growing bigger by the second, Pembroke makes
swift work of relieving himself of his flowing silk poet’s blouse,
then gets started on the inverted triangle of silver buttons at his
groin.

One button, then two, then three, then four—until
Pembroke’s luscious equipment pops out of its silken prison into
the open air. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the tip of his
beautiful cock was smiling at me.

Pembroke peels off his tighter-than-tight breeches,
then kicks off his tall leather boots. He stands before me in
glorious nakedness, ready to put his beautiful Regency body to the
purpose God created for it—namely, fucking me like there’s no
tomorrow.

Lord Verdigris, who has been staring open-mouthed at
Pembroke’s ravishing display, takes his cue to finish up his own
disrobing business. He loosens the end of his linen loincloth,
slowly unwrapping the many layers from his waist until his giant
cock finally breaks free. Then he makes a motion to unlace his tall
leather boots.

“No, Slave,” I order him. “Leave them on.”

He does. What’s a little leather among friends,
after all?

Madam Jasphet is continuing to tease the
still-clothed Rose Knight with her golden needle, leaving a bunch
of tiny red marks up and down his arm, neck, and cheekbones—a sexy
torture treatment that he obviously loves every second of. Lacking
any separate instrument of dominance myself, I rely on my own bare
hands.

Slap! Slap! Slap!
The sound of my open palms
falling down hard on naked skin fills my ears. Almost of their own
volition, those open palms just simultaneously flipped Pembroke and
Lord Verdigris over so that their bare backsides face me, and then
began raining down stinging hard slaps onto the smooth white skin
of their buttocks. That smooth white skin gets deliciously redder
and redder with each blow, and with each unmistakable sound of skin
hitting skin, there immediately follows the sound of two deep male
voices groaning in primal, guttural pleasure.

Having satisfied myself that their buttocks are red
and ripe enough, I move down their legs—my left hand working
Pembroke’s calves, my right working Lord Verdigris’ thighs—until
they are both quaking, shaking, and unsteady on their feet from the
sheer burning delight my slaps have brought to the entire lower
half of their bodies.

I’ve worked my way down to both men’s ankles, and am
now sitting on my haunches on the castle roof’s flagstone floor. I
poke my head into the space between the two men’s legs, then crane
my head upward from my perch until my eyes rest on their bulging,
dripping cocks.

Time for the real fun to begin.

I decide that my two boys have had enough dominance
for the time being, and have earned themselves a little reward—a
reward I’ll thoroughly enjoy giving. Because there’s almost nothing
in this world I like to taste better than the taste of a hot and
throbbing cock that’s dripping with happy juice.

I take Lord Verdigris’ cock into my mouth first,
savoring the salty, musky flavor that hits my tongue like a savory
delicacy. I run my tongue up and down along the thick, pulsating
vein that runs along its bottom, relishing its bumpy feel against
the tip of my tongue. Then I focus on the glans, using the tip of
my tongue like a paintbrush, outlining its knobby, symmetrical
shape, tasting more of his musky flavor. Then at last I take the
whole member into my mouth, sucking up and down its full length,
moving my head in perfect counterpoint to his thrusting hips.

Just before he reaches the point of no return, I
squeeze Lord Verdigris’ balls, stopping his climax. I pull myself
off his cock, and then leave him high, dry, blueballed and
trembling. “Stay right where you are, Slave,” I order him. “Don’t
move a muscle.”

A slight whimper escapes Lord Verdigris’ throat as
my only answer. But he’s not sad—no, not by a long shot. His face
is plastered with a huge shit-eating grin.

Now I turn my attentions to Pembroke, who has been
waiting patiently and obediently for my touch—just as I knew my
lover and heart’s desire would.I decide to spend a little more time
on him, apple of my dominatrix’s eye that he is. I take a moment
just to admire his beautiful cock, long and pale and with a slight
curve to the left, its uncircumcised glans like an overripe plum
bursting through its skin in the summer sun. I trace the outline of
his cock, up one side, around the tip, and down the other, ending
by playing a bit with each of his balls. I roll them back and forth
in my hands, enjoying their weight, getting off on hearing Pembroke
groan as I pass them back and forth over my palms and fingers. Once
I’ve got him shaking and quaking all over, I slowly, steadily take
his beautiful cock into my mouth.
All
the way into my mouth.
So far, so deep that before I know it, its tip is tapping against
the back of my throat.

I keep deep-throating Pembroke, sucking him hard,
then harder, until his whole body thrusts up against my mouth. The
back-and-forth of my mouth and tongue on his cock and his wildly
gyrating body becomes a sensual delight in and of itself, a kind of
modern-medieval dance.We dance together for what seems like hours,
until he is nanoseconds away from exploding his seed down my
throat.

As much as my heart wants to give my beloved
Pembroke satisfaction, my head tells me to break it off. After all,
I have a master plan. Namely, to create a level of sexual energy so
powerful that there’s no time-portal I can’t open, no century,
continent, or universe I can’t explore.

After all, it’s freedom I seek. And not just my own.
Pembroke’s, Trenton’s, and Jaclyn’s freedom all depend on me
succeeding at my master plan, too.

And me succeeding also means one final, essential
thing—that Lord Verdigris must fail.

Fail at what, exactly, I haven’t quite figured out
yet.

But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters now
is, I somehow need to get three men and two women to have massive,
ear-splitting orgasms all at the same time.

Time to get busy.

I glance over to my left and check out what Madam
Jasphet and Trenton are up to. I see that the Egyptian poison
temptress has managed to get The Rose Knight’s breeches loose and
the neckline of his tunic unlaced, exposing his cock and chest
while the rest of him remains clothed. And she’s still peppering
away at him with her needle, tracing exotic hieroglyphics into his
exposed skin. Trenton’s obviously enjoying the attention, too—his
mouth his hanging open, he’s breathing heavily, and his eyes are
rolled back into his head so far that only the whites are
showing.

But even though she’s got his fully erect cock out
of his pants and pointing skyward in the open air, Madam Jasphet
isn’t doing anything with that beautiful piece of machinery.