“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 i
nch 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.
Lord Verdigris might be a heartless, time-traveling, kidnapping bastard. But he knows how to eat pussy.
Sometimes you just have to learn to take the good with the bad.
I throw my head back and buck some more as Lord Verdigris’ tongue sends my whole body into another incredible spasm. I feel the walls of my sheath pulsing and clenching, clenching and releasing, sending an undulating vibration up and out from the deepest recesses of my body through every pore of my skin, saturating all my senses. I can smell the sweet scent of my pussy, taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth as I bite down on my tongue in ecstasy.
This is an orgasm that literally spans centuries.
And we haven’t even gotten started on the actual fucking yet.
But I can do something about that in a hurry. I’m in total control, while Lord Verdigris is in total submission to my will. And his cock is as big as a castle turret.
I lift myself up off his face, leaving my pussy juice decorating the sandy blonde stubble of his beard like a thin gossamer curtain. I slide down his chest, leaving a trail of my nectar on his skin, until my cunt runs into the base of his cock. I lift my hips, take a deep breath, and lower my sheath down over it, letting his huge member ease into me a little at a time. The walls of my vag stretch to their breaking point to accommodate his long, thick, throbbing mass, and when the tip of his cock finally hits my cervix, I instantly have a deep, hard, rollicking vaginal orgasm that rocks me from the top of my head all the way down to my pinky toes.
Once the spasms from that orgasm begin to ease, I settle into a slow, easy rhythm to start out what I hope will be a long, hard, earth-shattering fuck for the ages. Since Lord Verdigris is tied down and prostate against the cross, it’s hard for him to buck or thrust into me—giving me total and complete control over his pleasure and mine. I keep the fuck slow and soft for a long time, building up another fantastic slow burn in my clit and vag, but nearly driving Lord Verdigris crazy. His whole body is a tightly wound spring waiting to explode, but I won’t let him. Not yet. My satisfaction must come first.
I ride him slow and steady for almost half an hour, until my entire lower half has turned to jelly from a countless string of nonstop orgasms. My head is spinning and every pore of my sweat-soaked skin feels electrified, burning, awash in interstellar explosive pleasure. The walls of my vag vibrate and pulse at warp speed, and my labia are so swollen that they make a drumlike sound as they slap up and down against the length of Lord Verdigris’ cock. He’s begging me for release now, crying and sniveling like a child who’s been sent to bed without any dessert.
“Oh, dear Lord Jesus Christ in Heaven, milady, please, give me release!” he cries. “Please! I shall die! I shall die!”
Finally, I take pity on him. After all, I’ve just had the most incredible fuck of my life—and I’ve done it as a captured, imprisoned sex slave.
I am one badass bitch.
I suppose that means Lord Verdigris can finally have some fun now, too.
I spin myself around on his cock until I’m in a perfect reverse-cowgirl position. Once there, I pick up the pace, feeling the sensations multiplied tenfold since I’m now taking it from behind and ramming him into my G-spot at maximum velocity. Lord Verdigris starts to
moan and grunt as his long-awaited orgasm approaches, while I explode into my umpteenth orgasm of the evening. Just as I finish coming one last, wild, teeth-clattering time, Lord Verdigris explodes into me with the force of a rocket leaving the launchpad. I can almost taste his come in my mouth, it spurts into me with such force. His seed spills out of me and onto his groin. It slips off his skin and down onto the rough-hewn wood of the Cross of the Crossroads, where it is absorbed.
The Cross has now been christened.
Lord Verdigris lets out a long, low sigh, then collapses into unconsciousness. I have rendered him helpless, a slave to my incredible, sensual mixture of pleasure and pain. He is now mine, all mine.
I pull myself off of him and go to relax in the afterglow among my satin sheets and cushions in my four-poster bed. I watch Lord Verdigris sleep for awhile, surprised that I feel something like tenderness towards him as his sweaty and sated body snores, still tied down with leather straps upon my newly built instrument of sexual power and control. Lord Verdigris got more than he bargained for tonight, that’s for damn sure.
Hell, so did I.
And if the dopey, smug expression on Lord Verdigris’ sleeping face is any indication, tonight is the happiest night of his long, immortal life.
In a way, it’s the happiest night of my own life, too. Because even though I’m trapped in an unthinkable situation hundreds of years from my own time, I’ve discovered something new about myself this evening. Something powerful, something wonderful. Something that will sustain me throughout my sure-to-be very long imprisonment here in this strange time and place.
Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set Page 27