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Fetters of Velvet
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, 2003, 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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Fetters of Velvet
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They disappeared up the ladder. The floor was at least two manheights above him, and the trap about four fingerbreadths thick. If he got up there, and they'd remove the ladder soon, he'd confront at least two guards, armed, armored, and probably experienced in war for longer than the fourteen years he'd been alive. And they'd stripped him of weapons and armor. After that, he'd be in the great hall of a castle. It would be occupied by armed knights unless there were an attack on the walls at that precise time. And how was he supposed to know when an attack occurred? On the other hand, the walls around him were stone -- solid enough to support the entire weight of a keep. Yards thick, and he had no tool for excavation. The chimney had to be a weak point. He checked. It was hard to see, but it narrowed to about the width of his head well before it reached the next level. Certainly, it was narrower than either his hips or his shoulders and had to be a longer climb than ten manheights. There was a noise from the ladder. A servant girl was descending with some clothes over her arms. Her skirt was long enough to be decent, but his vantage from below as she backed down the ladder let him see her thighs almost to where they joined. When she reached the floor, the guards raised the ladder. Then they lowered several cauldrons of water and closed the trap door. "Highness," she said, and dropped a pretty curtsy. Now that he looked at her face, that was pretty, too. "'Highness,'" he mocked. "I'm a captive." "And, highness, I am a slave. But thou art the son of a king and I am the daughter of a slave." "Very well, what wouldst thou have me do?" "I was ordered to bathe highness, and obey thy orders." "Which is it?" "I shall obey thy orders. Does highness not wish to bathe?" "If thou wouldst obey my orders, get me out of here." "I shall obey thy orders, so far as I can. Does highness not wish to bathe? I have a clean guest robe as well." Refusing the bath would be silly. She poured much of the water into a bath, put one cauldron over the fire, and helped him off with his clothes. She handed him a linen cloth and used another to scrub his back. When he stood, she scrubbed his legs. Her hands went much higher than his servants', even his men servants', had. As she rinsed him off with the hotter water from the last cauldron, it splashed on her, revealing the shape of her breasts. When he stepped out of the bath, she dried him with yet another cloth, rubbing his face, his hair, his torso. When she'd got low on the torso, instead of handing him the cloth, she knelt. Looking down, he could see the outline of her breasts -- her very nipples -- through the wet cloth of her tunic. She patted his raging erection as though it had been his arm. Then her hair brushed over it while she wiped off his legs. Loyal Sir Robert had always made sure that he didn't annoy his father's servants. His enemies certainly wouldn't give him access to this woman. Oh, how he wanted her, though -- wanted someone. "Wilt thou obey my orders?" he asked. "In so far as I can." "Comest with me." The bed was standing not too far from the fire. "As Highness orders. Dost thou wish me without this tunic?" Could he? "Yes." At his bedside, she removed the tunic and dropped it on the floor. Her only remaining clothing was a loincloth. He stared at her breasts until she drew his head to them. So much for being under his orders, but he was not about to object. He'd wanted to taste a woman's breast for so long, and the taste was sweeter than he could have imagined. When she lay down, he lay down beside her, leaning over to continue the kisses. When he stroked her leg, she removed the loincloth. Suddenly, he clasped her between the legs. "Gently," she said. Gently, he stroked her there, just where he'd wanted to feel some woman for months. She was damp, and she opened her legs so his hand could feel more of her dampness. Suddenly, his erection was so hard it hurt. "Kneelest between my legs, highness," she said. He climbed between her legs, knelt there. "Liest on me," she said reaching between their bodies with both hands. When her fingers grasped him, he almost exploded. Before he did, though, she'd guided him against her dampness. He entered that damp warmth. It closed all about him as he slid smoothly inside. When he was so far inside that his groin pressed against her hands, he moved back. This felt even better, but his lust was rising. When he pressed forwards again, he met not her hands but her belly. He couldn't control himself. He thrust forward again, though he was completely inside, and spewed and spewed. She tightened her thighs around his and her arms around his torso. "Liest on me," she said. This order was as easy to follow as her earlier ones. The experience had been bliss, paradise. And sometime, sometime soon, he'd like to do it again. |
The end Fetters of Velvet Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net 2003/09/03 2004/04/15 Thanks to Denny for editing this. This story is indexed under: Etc, stories not indexed elsewhere This story is coded (mF m1st). The code, mF, means: a teenage boy having sex with an adult woman. For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the sorts of stories to interest you: "Story codes for readers" The directory to all my stories can be found at: Index to Uther Pendragon's Website |