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Castle Nursery
If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else. This material is Copyright, 1997, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous permission. All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. |
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Castle Nursery
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"'When the troopship's on the tide my boy,'" Uther chanted to Tommy, "'the troopships on the tide, O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.'" Julie had been right, these two enjoyed each other's attention. Even Keda, who usually gave her Aunt Julie all her attention when she was in her lap, was watching this stranger with the deep voice. Uther had followed her into the nursery dressed in a preacher-black suit still buttoned after an hour in the Great Hall. The instant Tommy raised his arms, Uther had shed the coat. "Don't want wool scratching you, do we?" he'd said. Since then he had swung Tommy, and chanted to him. Now he pulled his attention off the babies and back to Julie. "This looks like a young man who is about to decide that he is hungry. Is there something we should do?" She turned the baby-monitor back up. "Pat, I think your son needs you." "'Why single men in barracks don't grow into plaster saints; While it's Tommy this, an Tommy that, an ...'" Uther swung Tommy up in the air and then down to a soft landing on the changing table. "Let's see if we can get you back to Mommy dry." "You didn't have to do that," Pat said when she saw what he was doing. "When I play with a baby, My Lady, I give him back dry. Call it rent..." Tommy swooped through the air to be held an inch above his mother's lap. Seeing his mother, he decided that he was hungry. He gave a single cry to complain about their starving him. Pat settled him on her breast. Unfortunately, Keda was deciding that she was as hungry as her brother had sounded. Uther reached for her. "And are you as wet as your brother?" he asked. After a brief check, he turned toward the changing table. "K K K Keda, B B B Beautiful Keda," he sang. Pat looked at him and waggled her eyebrows at Julie. She shook her head "no." Pat smirked. Damn it, sometimes Pat was totally obtuse. Julie liked Uther well enough, except for his continual pretense that he was more than a thousand years old. Even ignoring the impossibility, and impossibility was easy to ignore in this castle, the beard gave him away. The long white hair might have marked an ancient, but the grey of the beard was obviously transitional. Uther was very GWK, a category which had become important to her since the twins were born; but not even Pat-the-mink could go to bed with every man she met who was good with kids. Julie liked a little Tabasco in her bed; she wasn't inviting the most notoriously vanilla author on alt.sex.stories there. She had just decided that Uther and the kids would enjoy each other, and she'd been right. "That's right, lass. Aunt Julie is soft and smooth and smells pretty, but she doesn't have a beard to play with. 'When the M M M Moon shines over the C C C Cow shed, I'll be waiting at the K K K K K K Kitchen door.' Leave a few whiskers for the next babe ... Pshaw, that lusty cry was quite superfluous, we were heading motherwards anyway." Julie and Uther watched the first gluttonous nuzzle. Pat, oblivious to her audience, hummed to the babies. "I think," Uther told Julie, "that we have been dismissed. I shall follow wherever M'lady leads." Julie considered the two doors, one led back toward the crowd, the other into a bedroom. To her own surprise, she went into the bedroom. He was right behind. Lord Malinov hadn't assigned any beds to adults, but the Allens' diaper bag laid claim to one next to the nursery. The room contained four king-size beds, as long as Pat had the one closest to the nursery door, the rest of the family could use what beds others weren't using, or join Pat. Uther used both hands on her cheeks to tilt her head back. "I was right," he said. "You are marvelously soft and smooth." He, on the other hand was all ticklish beard. His kiss was gentle until she opened her mouth, and then demanding. She tangled both hands in the beard, and pulled him into the kiss. When they broke from the kiss, his eyes were dancing. "Aren't the twins the cutest babies in the whole world?" she asked. "In this world, certainly." "You know, you're much too diplomatic to have begun life as an absolute monarch." She wondered if she could persuade him to drop persona. Mostly, she wondered what Julie Allen, who preferred a frisson of danger and more than a touch of kink in most of her relationships, was doing with him. "Everyone in a democracy exaggerates the power of a high king," he responded. "It is all persuasion. The question is whether I can persuade you?" The weird thing is that he had persuaded her, or she had persuaded herself. She trusted her instincts, she just wanted to understand them. He was such vanilla guy, she was sort of a Rocky-Road gal. "Another question," she said, "is why The Kitten and her parents are not in this world. Surely the invitation included them." "This is hardly their sort of party." Suddenly the smile was gone from his voice and from his eyes. That it remained on his lips merely added menace to his manner. She saw what the hardness was under his soft demeanor. He was a guard-dog, a great shaggy mastiff of a man. He was perfectly willing to play, even to play fetch; but it was unwise to threaten those whom he considered under his protection. Then his expression eased. "Besides," he said, "you are an aunt. Would you deny Catherine Angelique's aunt and grandparents a Christmas visit from her? I really think my question was more germane." She nodded. "And how would you go about persuading me?" She was happier now. A mastiff was more to her taste than a lap dog. "Well, I would start like this." The kiss was deep and satisfying, and longer than the last one. He followed it with kisses to her face and neck and ear. The combination of the beard on her neck and the lips on her earlobe was ticklish, but deliciously so. Uther stood back to unbutton her blouse and bare her to the waist. She knew better than to wear a brassiere to an orgy; they were always so hard to sort out afterwards. He helped her off with the blouse like a gentleman. Then he picked her up by her back and legs. "Is the far bed yours?" he asked. She nodded. Before taking her there, he lifted her high enough to tickle her breasts with his beard. "Don't." She kicked. He started walking. "Do you want my kisses to make them feel better?" he asked. She did, but she was damned if she were going to ask him for them. So he ambled and tickled while she kicked and, the last half of the journey, giggled. He set her on the bed, but she bounced right back up. "You," she said, "are overdressed." He was wearing the suit pants and a white shirt. The tie appeared to be of precisely the same material as the suit. He hung his coat and her blouse over the back of a chair, before turning to her. He took the shirt and tie from her hands and placed them on the chair with the rest of the clothes. "Is there a hyphen in 'anal-retentive?" she asked. "Why, yes. There is. But did you really lead me here to discuss punctuation?" She reached for his buckle, but he caught her hands. A brief struggle later, they were on the bed. Each of her wrists was clamped in one of his hands. "But I want you naked," she said. "Actually, I had figured that out; but thanks for telling me anyway." The spread of her arms left her almost no maneuvering room, but he had a fair amount for himself. He tickled her breasts with his beard again, concentrating on her nipples. Then they had a long kiss during which he explored all of her mouth that his tongue could reach. After he had sucked each of her nipples into aching rigidity, he sat back up without letting go of her wrists. "This is going to be a problem," he said. "Oh, I think I see." He covered one of her legs with both of his, and then rolled so that he was between her thighs. She started kicking, but he ignored that. He pulled both of her wrists down to her waist and held them in one hand. The other arm snaked under a kicking leg and grasped the two wrists from that side. After repeating the maneuver, he lay between her legs with his head and shoulders on her lower torso. He had each of her wrists in one of his hands again, but now his arms reached under her legs. "Let's see if this works," he said. He raised himself and moved her skirt up with his mouth. "A garter belt! You're almost as anachronistic as I." (She wasn't going to wear panty hose to an orgy, was she?) Then "Great, I don't much care for the taste of panties." (Well, as a student counting her pennies, she wasn't going to wear panties anywhere they were likely to get lost.) Her kicking had become pro-forma by this time. He began kissing her just above the knee, but reached the stocking tops quite rapidly. There he slowed down. He also tickled. His beard reached places his tongue didn't. She struggled a little more sincerely, but his grip wasn't going to be broken. Where she had hair, oddly enough, his beard wasn't ticklish. When he finally settled down to the serious business of cunnilingus, only her bottom cheeks were tickled. He pushed her thighs upward and apart with his shoulders, and he used the access that gave him to part her outer lips with his nose. It took him some time to work her inner lips apart with just his tongue, but Julie enjoyed every minute of it. When he settled down to licking her valley, she stopped struggling. The first touch on her clitoris thrilled her, and she pushed up to hint that she wanted more. Uther took his time before returning there, however. Soon, this roving around her vulva began to frustrate her. "Uther," she said, "I need ..." He lifted his face from her to make his response. "No, lass," he said. "You want a climax now. You need a little more time to charge your capacitors." She realized that the bastard was doing it deliberately. She struggled in earnest for a minute, but she couldn't free her hands and jostling her groin was counterproductive. Then she lay quiet, willing his tongue to touch her bud, willing it to stay there long enough. In the end, it didn't. Uther attached himself to the top of her valley despite the motions which, by then, she couldn't possible control. He sucked her gently until she began spasming. Then he sucked more firmly until she stopped screaming. He gave a farewell kiss to the top of her mound, but he didn't go far and didn't release her arms. When she caught her breath, she tried to jerk her right wrist loose. That didn't work. "Come on Uther, it is my turn this time," she said. "I don't see it that way. You have an absolutely beautiful quim. I can't decide whether the sight, the odor, or the taste is best. I have already eliminated sound, but getting it down to one sense might take several more trials. The other problem is that touch hasn't had a fair chance. I'm thinking about that one." "Don't I get a vote?" "Democracy? It's a passing fad. But If you raise your hand, I might recognize you." She tried, he held her down. "I bet I give better head than you have ever experienced," she said. He had the muscle mass on her; men had the advantage there. If he didn't play fair, she needn't either. She would use her wits. "I'll bet you do. But I'm an author." "I know that." "A character," he continued while she was still speaking, "can come all night and dance all the next day. As an author, an orally-induced orgasm now would mean that I couldn't swive anybody for hours. I was hoping that a little more fanning of your flames like we did just now would get you eager for my swiving." "I'm eager enough already." "You said the same thing a few minutes ago. You keep forgetting whose wrists are in whose hands. But I'll make a wager with you." "What sort of wager?" she asked. "You have nice wrists, but I want to hold other parts of you. I'll let you go. For one hour, I make the decisions while you keep quiet. If you can get through the hour without saying an intelligible word, you can control me from the end of that hour until midnight. Unless you throw me out first. Moaning or screaming like you did a few minutes ago is quite acceptable, but you can't say a word, even in orgasm. You're still wearing a watch. If you agree, say 'agree,' look at your watch and state the time. Those will be the last words that you say." She thought that sounded easy. Uther was projecting. He was the author; he was the one who couldn't go for an hour without giving a speech, much less without saying a word. Besides, it was a new sort of bondage game, really. "Agree," she said. Instantly, he freed her wrists. "Nine twenty three." Uther unhooked her right stocking and peeled it off. He turned it right-side-out before laying it on the chair back. He repeated the process with her left stocking. He sat on the chair to unlace his shoes. Why did such an anal personality concentrate on oral sex? "Turn over," he said. When she did, he lay over her legs with his head close to her feet. He began to kiss her left leg at the Achilles tendon. By the time he had worked his way up the calf to the inside of her knee, she was writhing and whimpering. She, however, wasn't even tempted to speak. "Little sister," called a voice from the door, "have you been enjoying yourself?" Oh shit! This would be a little hard to explain. Maybe Uther'd tell them about the bet. Yeah! Right! The tooth fairy appearing to deliver the message was more likely. "She certainly sounded like she was enjoying herself," Pat called from the other room. Sisters! And she had absolutely worshiped Pat all through grade school. "This is Susan," he continued. From her position, she couldn't see; but she waved toward the door. "The name is Uther Pendragon," Uther said. "Susan and I have met." "Nice to meet you. But, Julie, you didn't answer. Are you having fun yet?" "Not yet," said Uther, "but she will." |
The end Castle Nursery Uther Pendragon 1997/12/21 2001/08/01 2002/01/21 For another story where childcare is mixed in with the sex, see: "Resumption" This story is indexed in the subdirectory: Games The directory to all my stories can be found at: Index to Uther Pendragon's Website |