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From: Albert Speer <meatbot777@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Impalement of Lord Snowdon (pedo, Mg)
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Date: Sat, 08 Aug 2015 10:10:02 -0400
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   Title : The Impalement of Lord Snowdon

   Author : MeatBot

   Keywords : Pedo, Mg

   Date : 20150804

   Mail : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

   http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

   A nobleman falls in love with a maid's daughter.

   Disclaimer :

   Copyright by the author.  Permission is granted to archive, repost, or
publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this
type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author.  This is a work
of fiction.  The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons
under 16 in real life.

   This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is accidental
and would be damn surprising.  Be warned that this story may involve
explicit descriptions of sexual activities, including some defined under
law as "Weird Shit".  Do not read this story if you believe that fictional
characters should not have fictional sex, or if you are less than the age
of consent in your social or legal group, or if you live under a
repressive, totalitarian regime in an out-of-the-way place such as the USA.
If you like it, I did it.  If you hate it, I didn't.  If it offends you, it
was a misprint.  If you want to sue me, I don't exist.  Sue the internet
instead.  Nobody's twisting your arm.  Leave if you don't like crap like
this.  These are just words, people.  Just words.

   Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and
depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of misspelled
words.  I am not an English major.  Deal with it.  This story is all made
up.  If you don't like it, read something else.  Don't bitch at me.  You
have been warned.

   This story is graded <TAME> compared to some of the shit I've read in
this group.

   This story is what happens when you have too much free time at work.





   --==+==-

   I stood in the dim stillness of the hallway, and waited on the maid.  I
had returned from my office early to my rooms, and caught her in process of
making the bed and doing all the little tasks she performed daily.  I knew
the woman, slightly at least, in addition to her pay I gave her a small
cash present on holidays for her services, and I felt that I treated her
fairly.  I knew of other residents of the castle that would have raised
holy hell if they caught her doing her duties, even if it was their fault,
by returning early.  Though it was not a popular sentiment, I tried to
respect the working classes, they performed valuable services for us
nobles, and, hell, they were people too.  My father had done this before
me, and I tried to follow his example.  I felt that it was a great benefit
to me, my people were faithful to me and loyal to a fault.

   The woman finished, exited the room and spoke to me, telling me she was
done.  I turned to her, and she stood in the hall, a small cart of supplies
in front of her.  Behind her a young girl stood silently, a beautiful young
girl.  I stopped for a moment and made small talk, inquiring about her
family and her life in general.  She seemed surprised that I cared, but
answered my questions readily.

   I knew her name was Nelia, and I think I surprised her by calling her by
name.  She turned to the girl at last, and introduced her.

   "This is my daughter, Gailia," she said, and I stepped forward and took
the girls hand for a moment, raising it to my lips and kissing it like she
was a fellow noblewoman.  She giggled, and I smiled.

   "She helps me, now that she is...  of age..." Nelia said, and I nodded.
The girl was delightful, young and fresh and full of life, I could see. 
She was dressed in a simple one-piece dress, and I could see her hard young
nipples almost piercing the thin cloth of her clothes.  My cock hardened
perceptibly.  The girl was charming.

   I'm not an old man, by any means.  Not for a nobleman.  We nobles last
longer than the working class, by virtue of our environment and the fact
that we don't have to destroy our bodies slaving away at hard physical
labor.  I'm barely out of my thirties, and I feel that I have taken good
care of my body, for a man in middle age.  I was a soldier as a youth, and
my body was lean and hard and muscular then, and I haven't totally lost
that, not yet.

   And...  I do like young girls, though I've never taken to one as young
as this one.  My last lover was barely twenty, and staggeringly beautiful,
a peasant girl, true, but a rare gem in a world of rocks.  To my great
disappointment she had allowed another noble to take her hand in marriage,
and elevate her status greatly, though most nobles would of course remember
her humble origins.  I wished at the time I could have done that for her,
but of course it was impossible, since I am locked in a loveless marriage.
I had foolishly married for wealth and status at a young age, and now
suffered the consequences.  My wife had benefited from my status as Knight
of the Empire, of course, but there was never any love between us, other
than a few months at the beginning.  Within a year she had taken a lover,
and after some agonizing I followed her lead, and began a series of lovers
and concubines that has taken me to the present.  I have been loveless for
many months now, a rare situation I am not used to.  Well, most of my
relationships have been loveless, but I have grown used to the physical
aspect of having a partner.  Grown used to it, and yearned for it.

   Anyway, all this passed through my mind in a moment as I stared at the
delectable young thing before me.  An idea struck me.

   "Can you read, darling?" I asked, and I was pleased that she nodded.

   "Yes, sir, my grandfather taught me," she replied.

   "Follow me," I said, and went into my apartment.  She did, leaving her
mother outside.  I knew that the woman wouldn't follow, since I hadn't
specifically told her to follow.  I went to a bookshelf and selected a
simple book of verses, one that I felt wouldn't be above the girl's level.

   "Please accept this," I told her, and gave it to her.  Her face lit up
with pleasure.  Books were still rare and valuable, though the printing
machine had been around a hundred years.

   "Thank you, my lord," she stammered, and I shushed her.

   "Darling," I said, "you are so beautiful, you deserve a thousand books.
I'm sorry I can give you but one.  But I will look through my collection
for more for you."

   She curtseyed, as well as she was able while holding the book carefully.
I could tell knew the value of books, and would take good care of it.  I
wished I had written my name in the front-piece for her.

   "I will require but one thing of you," I said, smiling, hoping she would
think I was joking if it offended her.  "But you mustn't tell your mother."

   "What, sir?" she asked, suddenly serious.

   "Just a small kiss," I replied, and she actually giggled.

   "I don't tell my momma everything," she said, and stepped forward,
almost eager, it seemed to me.  I leaned down slightly and she pressed her
lips against mine, in a fashion most un-littlegirlish.  I tasted her saliva
for a brief second, as her lips were half-open, and I felt my cock engorge
furiously.

   She pulled away, and smiled shyly at me, blinking her long sensuous
eyelashes.  I was totally in love.

   "Oh, my dear, that was delectable," I said, feigning a swoon.  She
giggled, and leaned in yet again, and we kissed one more time, this time
much longer.  I felt her little tongue against my lips, and I pushed mine
into her mouth, and tasted her sweetness.  Oh, she was divine.

   We separated after maybe twenty seconds, and she giggled, and turned for
the door.  I allowed her to leave, my mind spinning.  I hoped my excited
state wasn't noticeable to her mother.  I watched them walk down the hall
to the next apartment almost in a trance.  I loved the child completely by
then.  There was no long slow ramp up this mountain of love, I was at the
top, from day one.  I entered my apartment, locked the door, found a satin
handkerchief, and took my rigid organ in hand.  I came mightily,
remembering her taste in my mouth, and those nipples!  Those nipples were
simply to die for.  And the girl had smelled wonderful.  She smelled like a
magical potion of youth, of sweet flowers and even a hint of honest sweat,
and that excited me the most, for some reason.  I smelled her smells and
tasted her wonderful nipples in my dreams that night.



   --==+==-

   Several days passed before I saw the child again.  I thought of a
million excuses to be home at cleaning time, but it happened naturally when
it happened.  I had to find some important papers, and I puttered around,
watching her as she helped her mother.  When I finally left I caught her
eye and winked at her, and she giggled helplessly, causing her mother to
raise an eyebrow.  I smiled at the woman, and left.  Just seeing the girl
had made me happy.

   It was soon May-day, and on impulse I left two envelopes on my bed, one
with her mother's name on it, and one with Gailia's.  I put a few small
bills in Gailia's, and of course a larger sum in her mother's, but I felt
it would please the girl to get one of her own.  What tiny incidents
embrace our eventual dooms.

   The girl came to me, that night.  I heard a small knock, as I sat down
to eat my evening meal, and went to the door.  I opened it, and was
surprised to see Gailia, looking nervously down the hall.  I grabbed her
arm and pulled her in, shocked.  The guards and heavens, the major-domo
would have come down hard on a peasant child, unescorted, inside the
castle. I wondered how she'd ever made it this far.

   "My lord," she said, timidly.  My heart went out to her.  "I just wanted
to thank you...  for the...  letter, and for the money..." she said in a
small voice.  I knelt, and crushed her body to mine.  Gods, she smelled
good.  I wasted no breaths through my mouth when she was near.

   "Gailia...  child..." I said, almost tearing up.  What about this girl
affected me so?  What about her touched me in this fashion?

   "Darling," I said, standing her back a ways so I could talk to her.  I
didn't want to let her out of my arms, but I did.  The feeling of her small
soft body in my arms was exciting me to new levels of passion.  My cock was
so hard it hurt.

   "Darling," I said, "you must be very careful when coming to the castle.
If you wish to see me, tell a page I will give him a coin when he fetches
me, or escorts you to me.  It is dangerous here, for a..." I didn't want to
say "peasant" in front of her, out of respect for her dignity.  I finished
somewhat lamely.  "For a young girl."

   "I know..." she said, staring at me.  I was lost in her huge brown eyes.
I actually wanted to kiss her eyes, as foolish as that sounds.  "I just
wanted to say...  thank you..."

   "It was my pleasure," I said.

   "You are very kind to me," she said, and I could feel her breath in my
face.  It was sensual beyond words, for some reason.

   "My little darling, I love you dearly.  I will do anything you ask," I
said, meaning it.  She laughed, though.

   "How can you love me?  You just met me three days ago," she asked, and
it was my turn to laugh.

   "I cannot explain it," I said, "but I do.  Consider it a vagary of my
age.  And, I admit, I fall in love easily, especially with beautiful young
girls."

   She laughed then, and I laughed too, and squeezed her body to mine
again. She seemed pliant and willing, in my arms.  My imagination began to
speculate, furiously.  The child was alone, with me, in my apartment.  My
bitch wife was safely tucked away, in her own apartment, in another wing of
the castle.  We hadn't lived together in years, nor had we slept together
in decades.  What could I make of this opportunity?  What should I make of
it?

   I still have no idea why I loved the child so.  Something in her
satisfied a need I had, an almost overwhelming need that I'd had, but never
realized.  I barely knew her, I didn't know her personality, or what made
her laugh or cry, but I loved her fiercely, with a passion I'd never felt
for any other.  It was like she, of all the beings of this vast universe,
it was like only she was made for me.  Just holding her in my arms made me
happier than I ever remembered being.  It almost made me cry.

   I finally released her, and motioned her to the table with me.

   "I am preparing to eat my dinner," I said, "would you join me?"

   I was happy to see her nod.  I fetched a plate and cup from my small
cupboard, and served her from the covered bowls the kitchen had delivered
me.  I poured her some wine, and she tasted it carefully, then nodded and
gulped it down.  I laughed and poured her some more.  We ate, and I was
pleased to see her eat daintily, in a mannered fashion that would almost
befit a noblewoman.

   We made small talk, and she giggled a lot.  That really endeared her to
me, the bubbly sound of laughter filled my rooms, for the first time in
forever.  Her company was so pleasurable, I hated to think of the silence
that would descend when she finally left.

   "Darling," I said, "does your mother know where you are?  How long can
you stay out?"

   She was silent for a moment.  Finally she spoke.  "Yes," she said, "she
knows.  She told me I could come.  But I need to be home before dark."

   "Yes, you do," I said.  It wasn't safe after dark, not even this close
to the castle.  Brigands and footpads roamed the streets, and a soft sweet
young girl would be a prize indeed.  I promised myself to get her home
safely.

   Before dark, she'd said.  That still gave us a few hours, if she planned
on staying that long.  A lot could happen, in a few hours.  I reigned
myself back, though.  This was just a sweet innocent young child.  I
couldn't take advantage of her, I just couldn't.  Could I?  Would I?

   I am not the only one, I know now, and I knew it at the time.  Children
were cheap, in our time.  And, there were child-lovers.  The Baron Dulcimer
van Houke was the most obvious, he was infamous for his dalliances with
young girls, and he had even married one of them, the beautiful Roxanne,
when she was barely twelve.  She was sixteen now, and as wonderful as ever,
I'd even looked at her many times, and speculated on what her charms might
taste like.  I wondered if he'd divorce her when she grew up, or if she'd
still be enough for him.  I knew he paid an awful amount to the church for
his little affairs, and an astounding amount to be allowed to marry her in
the church.  Every sin has its price, it seems, and the church must keep a
master list of them somewhere, along with their bags of money.

   The church.  I harbored several grudges, myself, against the church, and
I am proud to say I am now listed as an "enemy of the church" due to some
off-handed comments I'd once made.  I'd been at my monthly dinner with the
King, and several Cardinals were there, and the Bishop.  The King was
speculating, as usual, about new ways to raise capital, and I pointed out
to him the benefits of removing the church's tax-free status.  I'd said it
originally as a joke, but the reaction was so satisfying I pretended to be
serious.  The Bishop puffed up like a toad, and the Cardinals shot bolts of
fire at me from their eyes.  It was great fun, and I think the King
understood, at least, and he seemed to play along, acting like the was
thinking deeply about it.  The church has never forgiven me, and now I
thumb my nose at them every chance I get.

   Anyway.  A child-lover?  Me?  I'd never thought of myself as a
child-lover.  Sure, I'd had affairs with sweet young girls, the youngest
fifteen, I think, when I was in my twenties.  But where did this one come
from?  I wondered.  What about this girl had burned into my heart so?  I
still don't know that answer.

   We finished, and she drank the last of her wine.  I could tell it had
affected her slightly, she was more giggly than ever, and sweeter than
ever. I stood, and motioned her to follow.

   I had a small music box, and I wound it, and we sat on the couch and
listened to it play several times.  I looked at her, speculating.  Why had
she come?  And why, most of all, had her mother allowed her to come,
unescorted, to a nobleman's room?  What did her mother think would happen?
What did she plan on happening?  Would I be accused of unsavory acts?  What
could a peasant woman think to gain?  Financial recompense, of course. 
What would it be worth to me?  What, and...  how far, how far would I go?
How far would she allow?  I realized I would pay almost any price within my
capacity for unrestricted access to her beauty.

   I asked her if she had a father, and she shook her head sadly.  He had
been lost in the war.  She lived with her mother and two brothers, in her
grandfather's house.  And, surprise, I knew the man.  He was a master of
guardsmen.  That complicated matters slightly.  My heart was sad.

   Still...  there was a few things we could do...  without going over the
edge of the cliff totally.

   I leaned back on my couch, and held my arms out.  Just like it was the
most natural thing in the world, she came to me, and I wrapped my arms
around her soft body.  I wondered why she was like this, so affectionate,
so ready.  I wondered about her grandfather, and the potentialities of his
relationship with her.  I'd ask, gently.  That could wait.  Right now I was
happy just to hold her, and breathe in her wonderful scent.

   "Darling..." I said, smiling at her.  She smiled back.  What a happy,
joyous child she was.  "May...  once again, may I steal a kiss from you?"

   She laughed, and nodded her head.  "You can kiss me anytime," she said.
She seemed eager.  Our lips crushed together, and soon I felt her clever
little tongue in my mouth.  Oh, she was sweet.  Her hot saliva excited me
past all reason.  How could I control myself, with this in my arms?  What
would happen now?

   We kissed and kissed, that evening.  I wanted to touch her badly, over
her dress, and most of all beneath it, but I didn't want to rush.  I had
hopes she'd come see me, again.  I wanted the progression to seem natural
to her.  I held her and kissed her that day, that's all I did.  It was
almost enough.  I had a hunger for her by now that almost could not be
denied.  I would have gladly died for her, for a taste of this.

   I did, and I tried to make it seem natural, but I did get a feel of
those hard little tits.  She had almost no noticeable breast, though I felt
they were beginning to form, but her little nipples were stiff and hard.  I
rubbed her stomach and chest, and finally allowed my fingers to wander over
her nipples.  The feeling of their hardness through the soft supple cloth
of her dress was astounding.  I felt my cock ooze liquid, that slippery
stuff that comes out at times.  My breeches were soon almost wet, inside. I
finally squeezed and pinched her hard little titties, and she moaned and
writhed beneath me.  It was all I could do not to plunge my hand between
her legs.

   I finally looked out the window, and was sad to see twilight.  I finally
sat up, and we untangled ourselves.  We stood, and talked for a moment.  I
selected yet another book, and gave to her.  At this rate I would run out
of books quickly.

   I went to my desk and picked out some bills and a few coins.  I gave her
the bills, and told her to give that to her mother, I said to tell her I
had forgotten to include the correct amount the other day in the letter.  I
assumed her mother would understand and appreciate it.  Gailia then
followed me out the apartment and down to the servant's exit of the castle.
I went to the guardhouse, and selected a page, a boy I trusted, and gave
him a coin.

   "Deliver this girl safely to her home, and there will be more for you,"
I told him, and saw them out the gate.  She turned and waved, and smiled
shyly at me.  I blew her a kiss, and she giggled.  I returned to my room,
my heart singing with joy.  I was happier than I'd been in a long time. 
And this might just be the start, I told myself.



   --==+==-

   A week passed.  As more time passed, I grew morose, and wondered if it
had just been a one-time occurrence.  Had her mother been offended about
the money?  Did she think I was simply trying to buy time with the child?
And why, I asked myself for the millionth time, had her mother allowed her
to come to me in the first place?  A sweet young girl, alone with a
middle-aged man?  Her mother knew I lived alone, she cleaned my rooms, she
probably knew intimate things about me that would make me blush.  Why had
she let her daughter come to me?  And how much did she know about what went
on?

   I made myself a promise to do more for the girl than just taste her
sweetness, if she ever came back again.  I would help her read, introduce
her to more cerebral subjects than simple verses.  I would try to make
something of her.  I saw promise in her, promise and potential.

   One night, as I pored over lists of inventory, a heavy knock thudded on
my door.  I knew it wasn't Gailia, from the knock, and was sad.  My sadness
turned to joy when I opened the door and she stood there clutching a book,
escorted by a page.  I gave him a coin, telling him to return at nine to
escort her home.  I had heard the church bell ring a few minutes ago, and I
knew it was just a little past five.  Oh, I though, four glorious hours,
four wonderful hours with the girl I love.

   The fun started almost immediately.  After a stuttering little speech
about her curiosities about some passages in the book she'd brought, we
suddenly found ourselves on the couch, our mouths glued together.  She
seemed eager and hot-blooded tonight...  and she was hot, her little body
almost glowed.  It's usually pretty warm in the castle in spring and
summer, and she just burned me up as I wrapped my arms around her.  I could
see drops of sweat on her upper lip, and I licked them off, glorying in the
salty taste of it.  She tasted salty, but sweeter than the sweetest candy
I'd ever eaten.  The intensity of her tastes were unreal, to me.  I could
only imagine, at this stage, what the other parts of her body would taste
like.

   As we kissed I finally ran my hands over her body, rubbing her back, and
finally descending, until I held her sweet little bottom.  I rubbed and
squeezed, loving the feeling of the hard muscles beneath her soft skin.  I
slowly descended further, as she lay face-down in my lap, until I rubbed
the backs of her bare legs.  Then, my fingers carefully rose.

   As I suspected, and I'm sure as is the case with most young girls her
age, she had on no undergarments.  My fingers caressed the sweetness of her
bare young ass, and I almost ejaculated.  I was excited to an extreme that
I'd never felt.  She moaned and gasped in my arms, panting.  I was panting
too, I realized.  I cupped her ass in my hands, and squeezed.  It was too
much.

   At last, I crept a questing finger into the space between her buttocks.
Her crack was hot and sweaty, and it made me insane with lust.  I finally
pushed in, and touched her sweet little asshole.  I cannot describe the
feeling.  I rubbed and caressed her anus, in a frenzy of joy and lust.  I
sniffed, licked and then pushed my finger into her bottom slowly, and she
sighed, her tongue in my mouth, breathing like a racehorse.  My finger
disappeared inside her, and I felt her body push against it, and oh, it was
sweet.  I wiggled it, and she giggled.  I finally pulled it out, and
brought it to my nose.  Her scent excited me even more.  I did not know it
was possible to be so sexually aroused.  I grabbed her buttocks and spread
them apart, and rubbed her puckered sweetness with a passion.

   At last, almost like a little wild thing, she pulled away from me and
sat up, struggling with her clothes.  I yanked her dress over her head, and
she stood before me, naked.  I seized her again, and squeezed her against
me, our mouths crushing together.  I could feel her giggling.  I was a bit
giddy, myself, at this stage.

   I laid her down, at last, on the couch before me.  I crouched before
her, and surveyed her beauty.  I do love cunts.  I have seen many, in my
time.  But this one took my breath away.  Probably half-way to maturity, I
guessed, it beckoned to me, and I answered.  Her little lips were slightly
protruding, and I could see her tiny clit peeking out.  Her slit was open
slightly, since her legs were spread, and I knew my tongue would be in
there, before long.  Very quickly, at this point.  I leaned down and
sniffed her.  It was incredible.  I assumed the girl took baths
occasionally, but I was sure it had been a while, she was strong and
aromatic, and it took my breath away.  There is just something about the
odors of a young girl's body, something sweet and intense.  I love odors,
and I love the scent of a woman's body.  But this girl surpassed them all.
Just my nose alone loved her more than the rest of me had ever loved
anything.  She was just too much.

   I touched it, and her softness was fabulous beneath my fingers.  Nowhere
on a girl's body is the skin more soft than her cunt.  I pinched it closed,
and then pulled it open.  I pressed my finger into her slightly, trying to
feel a hymen, but I couldn't tell.  I wondered if she'd been probed,
before, and by whom.  I had accidentally torn a girl's hymen once, long
ago, finger-fucking her, I hadn't believed she was a virgin until then,
until I saw the blood.  This girl was tight, but I got my finger a little
ways inside her without difficulty or pain.  I smelled my finger, and just
about fainted.  The scent from inside her body was incredible.

   I could wait no longer.  I leaned down.  When my tongue touched her, my
poor cock gave up, and I ejaculated, filling my breeches with sperm.  I
didn't care, I was lost between her legs.  Her taste was fabulous, and
overpowering.  I knew no one would ever satisfy me again, after this. 
After this taste of her.  She tasted strongly of cunt, and mildly of sweat,
and slightly of piss.

   I'm sure that we passed an hour, with my face in her groin, and my
fingers pinching and squeezing her little nipples.  I gave her pleasure,
and to my surprise, she had a nice orgasm as I sucked and licked her clit.
The tiny bud of flesh felt stiff on my tongue, and I alternately sucked it
and pressed it against her body, and she came nicely.  Her legs and arms
twitched and drew up, chill bumps ran up the inside of her thighs, and her
breathing became irregular and labored.  I could tell she was cumming, and
it pleased me.  I hoped that she'd grow used to the feeling, and desire it
all the time.

   "Darling," I finally said, sitting up and pulling her into my lap, "have
you ever done anything like that before?  Have you ever had that good
feeling before?"

   "Yes," she said shyly, looking down, "my grandpa...  my grandpa does it
sometimes, with his finger...  he says he used to do that to me when I was
a baby, to stop me from crying..."

   I laughed softly.  That was another thing I'd seen, women masturbating
their infants, to keep them docile and happy.  I was sure that by now her
grandpa did it for his pleasure, as well as hers.  I felt a little more
confident about the things I did to her, after I knew that about the man.

   "So did you like it?" I asked, and she smiled.

   "Yes, my lord," she said, and I laughed.

   "Darling..." I said.  "When we are alone, stop the lord stuff please. 
You may call me Alek, short for Aleksey, my given name.  Please, darling."

   "Yes, my..." she paused and I laughed softly.  "Yes, Lord Alek."

   I gave up.  That was good enough for now.  I was happy to sit there for
a while, and hold her in my lap.  She was soft and warm, and gods, her
smell...  she just made me happy.  I was the happiest I've ever been, in
all my life, holding her.



   --==+==-

   The spring passed, and summer began.  I saw the girl every few days, at
least.  Our times together seemed to get longer and more intense.  It was,
like I said, a natural progression.  I got a little shyer about seeing her
mother, and carefully made sure that I wasn't home when she did her duties.
I was glad of the freedom she seemed to give me with her daughter, but I
didn't want to answer any embarrassing questions.  Surely, I thought, by
now she had to have some suspicions of what goes on.  Why does she allow
it? Is she fixing to blackmail me?  Why hasn't she done it yet, if so?  Or,
I speculated, does she have hopes of me elevating her daughter's eventual
status, by her associations with me?  I had lots of ideas, but nothing
except ideas.  Not yet, at least.

   I still sent money home with her occasionally, to help with "expenses",
as I asked her to tell her mother.  Maybe that was enough.  What a polite,
gentle way of whoring her daughter out, if that's all it was.  Was that
enough?  The amount I gave her was probably pretty exorbitant, by today's
standards, probably more than she made being a maid...  but was that all
there was to it?  I shook my head in puzzlement.

   One afternoon I'd just gotten home when a page named Boris brought her
to my apartment.  I gave him a coin, slammed and locked the door, and
welcomed her with open arms.  We retired to the couch, as we usually did.

   "Lord Alek," she whispered, her breath hot and sweet in my face. 
"Show...  show it to me.  You know!" She motioned to my crotch.

   I was surprised, but pleased.  I had been waiting for this, feeling like
it was inevitable.  I wanted it to happen at her speed, though.  But I had
waited for this moment for the longest time.  I wondered what had suddenly
sparked her interest in my organ.  With trembling hands I unlaced my
breeches, and drew my rigid manhood out for her inspection.

   She giggled, looked at it, looked at me, and then back at it.  "Go
ahead, darling," I said, "touch it.  Play with it."

   She did, and we sat there for the longest time as she pulled and tugged
and played with my cock.  I was ready to cum almost immediately, but I
somehow held back.  I had plans for that, later.  The feeling of her hot
little hands on my manhood was wonderful, and I loved it, and I loved her
for it.  I just leaned back on the couch, laughing, and let her play.

   The strings of liquid leaking from it fascinated her, and she drew them
out until they broke time and time again.  Finally she rubbed her fingers
in it, in the pre-cum as some call it, and brought the finger to her mouth
for a taste.  I knew from experience it had no taste, and I laughed at her
puzzled look.  She smiled back at me.  I loved her more that moment than I
thought I could stand.

   At last I drew her dress over her head.  I lay her naked body on the
couch, and crouched over her, and rubbed her cunt with my hard cock until
she came.  She was very good at cumming by now, better than some adult
women I had known even.  She knew how to relax and let go, and cum.  I was
proud of her ability to cum, I felt responsible for it, for teaching it to
her.  I loved her for it.

   After she recovered, I flipped her over, and rubbed her little bottom
with the head of my cock, reveling in the feeling of her hot puckered anus
against the head of my cock.  At last I rolled her back over, and rubbed
her cunt again, at last relaxing and allowing myself to cum.  I think that
surprised her, and she laughed aloud as I moaned and shot strings of semen
across her cunt and stomach.  At last I was finished, and I encouraged her
to taste it.  She finally dipped her finger in a blob of it, and raised it
to her mouth, tasted, and looked thoughtful.  We both giggled, and she ate
a few more strings of it, finally announcing that it tasted funny, but
good. I kissed her, and tasted my semen on her lips.

   A few nights later, yet another of my dreams came true.  She arrived
early, we read for an hour, and I explained some things to her.

   "Lord Alek," she announced.  I gave her my attention.  "My mother
said... I could spend the night, if it's convenient...  that maybe I could
sleep on your couch, if you might allow."

   Oh yes, that was a good idea, I thought, though there was no danger of
her being banished to the couch.  Tomorrow was the holy day, and I did not
have to work if I didn't wish to.  And after an offer like that?  I
certainly didn't wish.

   We had a fun night, with lots of kissing and rubbing and licking.  And,
I have to say in my defense, we did other things too, non-sexual things. 
I'd even taken her about the castle at times, making sure she had a book or
two in her arms, and introducing her as one of my students.  I actually had
a reputation for this, for teaching the arts and sciences to other children
in the past.  I kept an ear out for rumors about the castle concerning her
and myself, but I never heard any.  I have no idea what I would have done
if I had heard any, I was way to far gone with her to ever give her up
voluntarily.

   That night...  that night turned out to be very special, to me.  The
night she, at her tender young age, became a woman.  We retired early to my
bed, both of us delightfully naked.  We giggled and rubbed and I licked her
to an orgasm, to warm her up.  At last I reached over to my bed-stand, to a
saucer of lard I had obtained from the kitchen.  I smeared some of it on
the head of my hard cock, and smeared some more into her little cunt.

   "Darling," I said, holding her to me.  "If you don't wish to do this, I
will understand.  I want to make love to you, like a we are man and woman.
You are still a girl, true, but please let's try, at least.  I'll stop if
it hurts you.  You must let me know, I don't want to cause you any pain. 
There may be discomfort, but if it really hurts, please let me know."

   She was uncharacteristically serious, and finally she nodded her head.
"What you want to do," she said, "is what you want to do to me called
fucking?"

   I snorted involuntarily.  "Yes, darling, the less erudite among us refer
to it as that.  I prefer to say making love."

   "Yes," she said, and I felt her breath in my face.  "Yes, let's call it
that.  Yes, I want to try it."

   I smiled and kissed her.  I lay her back among the pillows, and
positioned my body over her.  I probed for her cunt, and felt my slippery
cock finally enter the mouth of it.

   I am not a giant, where my cock is concerned.  This was the first time
in my life I was glad of that.  I have seen giant cocks on men, in the
barracks, or when they urinated.  I had seen giant cocks in a hardened
state, at parties I had been to, or when I had chased women and fucked them
with friends.  The King, it was rumored, had a monster that would shame a
stallion, though I knew that was just the work of his clever publicity
agent.  I had once fucked a girl at a party who had pleasured the king
orally, and she told me he was only "slightly over average."

   I hoped I would not hurt the girl, because I really wanted this to
happen.  I wanted the pleasure for myself, but most of all I wanted it for
her.  And I wanted to be her first.  I wanted her to remember me forever.
And I wanted her to cum like a little madwoman.

   I pushed in, gently but insistently.  I watched her face for any sign of
pain, and I did see it flash across her a time or two.  I always stopped,
and waited, and at last she would nod.  It seemed to take forever to get
all the way inside her, and the feelings from my cock were intense.  I
loved how long it took.

   At last I was all the way in.  "Are you okay, darling?" I asked, and she
nodded up at me.  I was satisfied.  I pulled out slightly, and pushed back
in.  She sighed, and hiccuped, and then looked at me and laughed.

   "How does that feel, baby?" I asked, and she laughed again.

   "I feel full of you," she finally said, and we smiled at each other.  I
began to moved against her, in and out, in and out.

   She seemed to be enjoying it.  She sighed, and closed her eyes, and I
felt her body jerk and twitch at times.  At last her hands began to curl
up, and I knew she was getting close.  I pumped a little faster.  My hands
were buried in her buttocks, pulling her against me, my finger probing her
anus.  My cock could not have been harder, had it been made of iron.

   When it happened, I was pleased with her orgasm, and I hope she was,
too. She just exploded, cumming with an intensity that I hadn't seen
before. My finger was inside her little rump by now, also pumping in and
out of her body, and I hoped that would help.  I could feel her whole body
tremble and jerk beneath me, as she gasped for breath.  She sighed and
moaned, and I could tell she was enjoying it.  I certainly was.

   I was so excited that I kept going.  I wanted it to happen again for
her. After another minute I whispered to her.

   "Can I keep going, darling?" I asked.  She nodded, and said, "Yes,
please..." I was happy to continue.  I wanted her to cum at least twice,
before I did.  I wanted her first time to be special.  Every girl deserves
that, even a poor little peasant girl.

   At last, after a fairly exhausting time period, I felt her begin to
orgasm again.  This time, as it built and crested, I allowed myself to cum,
and filled her young cunt with my seed.  My cock almost sighed with relief,
and damn, it felt good.  My legs almost cramped, and my own asshole pinched
shut so hard it almost hurt.  I was pleased with the whole experience, I
felt it had been good for her, and it certainly had for me.

   We lay in each other's arms, and I whispered sweet things to her, and
she giggled.  Her beauty and desirability had me hard again within half an
hour, but I didn't want to over-do it, the first day.  I hoped for many
more times like this.  I wanted her to expect it, each time she visited me.


   At last I crawled down her body, and tasted my sperm on her cunt.  I
licked her clit until she came again, and raised her body so I could caress
her bottom with my tongue.  At last I masturbated myself over her body,
spraying what little cum I had left onto her.  Altogether, it was a fun
evening.

   Sometime in the middle of the night she awoke me crying, and I held her
tightly and asked her what was wrong.  Just a dream, she said, and giggled
when I kissed her.  Soon I was licking her between the legs, and at last I
rolled over her and reached for the lard.  Once again we made love, slow
and peaceful this time, until she came, at least.  To wake up with her body
in my arms that next morning was sweet beyond my wildest dreams.



   --==+==-

   There was a knock at the door.  I was puzzled, it wasn't Gailia's usual
time, and she had just been here last night.  I went to the door, and
opened it.  To my supreme surprise and disgust, there stood my wife.

   "Well, well," she said.  "What a surprise."

   "Hardly," I replied.  "I live here, after all."

   "No," she said.  "It's a surprise you are alone." She peered around the
door frame, seemingly wanting to insure that I really was alone.

   "Hardly again," I said, "I live alone, after all."

   "Oh, it's my turn to say hardly," she said, her trademark wicked grin on
her face.  "The whole castle is abuzz, about you and your little... 
toy..."

   My face burned.  I was angry, angry at her and what I knew was a lie. 
Just a day or two ago, I'd paid a page handsomely to tell me all the latest
rumors sweeping the castle, and I'd insisted he tell me all, even if it
concerned me.  He'd been able to come up with nothing.  I knew that Luba
was just fishing.  Either she'd seen me with the girl, or one of her spies
had reported it.  She was just making a fuss, I felt.

   "Luba," I said, slowly and calmly.  I wanted to scream "Bitch!" at her,
but I didn't.  "Luba, the heat has gotten the better of you.  You need to
go lie down.  I have a student I'm teaching, but we have a proper
relationship.  You, even you, are better than this."

   She smiled wickedly.  "Oh, I hardly think so.  Proper?  We'll see.  And
Aleksey...  I'm offended that you haven't invited me inside.  This is so
petty, making me stand in the hall.  What will your neighbors think?"

   "They know the truth, Luba," I said.  "You should return to your floor.
This wing is not friendly towards you." I turned back inside and slowly
shut the door, resisting the urge to slam it in her face.  Her last mocking
words sounded, as the door shut.

   "We'll see, Aleksey, we'll see what little boys do when their toys are
taken away."

   I gritted my teeth and cursed the woman.  And I'd married her!  How
frustrating life is, at times.  I knew she was just trying to irritate me.
She'd done things like this before.  It was a probably both a cry for a
little attention, and a way to show me her higher status.  That was hard to
deny, though I wished to, her closeness to the Queen gave her the King's
ear, in a way I couldn't duplicate.  I sat on my couch, and fumed.  I
wished Gailia was there to comfort me.  I had high hopes for the morrow.



   --==+==-

   In the end, I have no idea what really brought about my downfall.  Was
it just my albeit improper relationship with a young girl?  Many, in the
past had gotten away with more flagrant affairs than mine.  Was it a
lifetime of bitterness and hatred from my harpy wife?  That she had a big
part in it, I know.  And I know the church was my enemy...  and in the end,
the King?  I felt no friendship from him, in spite of the youth we had
spent together.  I'd saved the man's life once, on the battlefield, when he
fell in combat.  In the end, he did not lift a finger to help me, though.
And Nelia...  I really wondered about Nelia, if she had a part in this. 
How would my fall benefit her?  The opposite, really, she would no longer
receive payments from me.

   So many questions, and so few answers.  Ultimately, it all mattered
little.  Our lives are brief moments of pain and torment, and end in
squalor and indignity.  I don't care what the church says.  We are worms,
squirming in torment on a stovetop.

   We lay in my bed, and I hugged her to my body.  Just the feel of her
made me happy.  Outside, the winds blew and leaves scurried and whirled. 
Fall was in the air.  I was happy, as happy as I'd ever been in my life.  I
knew worries lurked around the corner, but when I held Gailia in my arms,
the world seemed right with me.  I did not know what our future held, I
speculated about it, but there were too many unknowns.  I had no idea how
long our affair could last, but I hoped for forever.  I loved her that
much. I refused to see the foolishness of an old man and a young girl, ten
years from now.  I admit, I was just living for the moment.  Our
happinesses are so rare that we must seize them when we can.  We can worry
about the future tomorrow.

   I kissed her hot lips, and felt my cock touch the mouth of her cunt.  We
no longer need lard, we had done this enough times.  She was wet, down
there.  It seemed natural now.  I hungered for the sensations of her
tightness, but even more than that, the simple pleasure of holding her in
my arms.  I loved her with a passion I will not even begin to describe.

   She sighed as I entered her body, and I felt her shake beneath me. 
Every feeling was magnified.  I seemed to see myself from a distance as I
penetrated her.  A peculiar lightness possessed my brain, and the noises I
began to hear didn't register for a moment.  My bedroom door exploded
inwards with a loud crash, and a deep roar of rage rang in my ears.



   --==+==-

   I looked out over the crowd.  Bloodthirsty savages, the peasants.  Men
circulated through the crowd, selling food, looking for friends, picking
pockets.  The peasants loved a show.  Especially when it was one of the
higher classes on the podium.  The executioner on my right shifted, and put
his mouth to my ear.

   "You're a popular man," he said, and I nodded.  I appreciated his kind
manner, if nothing else.  He had been slow and gentle with me, so far.

   "They just want to see blood.  They don't care who it is," I replied to
him, and he smiled.

   "I'm sorry, sir.  Your family was kind to mine, once.  It is not
unappreciated.  I'm sorry to have to do this to you."

   "I understand," I said.  "I bear no ill will towards you." I wondered
who he was, and what memories he carried.

   "It's the top of the hour," said the lead executioner, striding up to
me. "Let's get this show on the road."

   Oddly, he too apologized to me.  What a job, to have to give your
condolences to the man you were about to kill.  The three of them stood the
rough wooden cross behind me, and unlocked the manacles around my hands. 
The guards below us came to attention, ready for any tricks on my part.  I
was past that point, though.  I peacefully raised my arms and placed my
legs together, feeling the cross behind me.  The similarities between my
plight to the last moments of the Christian god struck me as humorous, and
I laughed.

   "Yes, my lord?" said the executioner that had first spoken to me.  I
shook my head.  "Nothing," I said.  "Just thinking."

   They bound my arms, feet and head to the cross.  I looked down at the
crowd again.  I saw Nelia at that moment, a serious look on her face.  I
wondered what part she might have had in this little drama.  I wondered
what penance she might be required to do, if it became known that she
willingly gave her daughter over to me, in exchange for money.  I
mean-spiritedly hoped it was severe.  Though I didn't totally understand my
betrayal, I wondered if she had a part in it, and if she had helped to kill
me.

   And there my darling stood.  I saw her tear-streaked face, peering at me
from behind her mother.  She looked so beautiful in the morning sun, she
looked as beautiful to me as she ever had.  I hungered to hold her in my
arms, once again.  How unsatisfying that last moment had been, as the
guards pried us apart, her screaming, me shouting in anger and surprise. 
My last glimpse of my bitch wife's face had been of her peering at me from
the doorway, an evil smile on her face.  I had never struck the woman.  In
all our disagreements over the years, I had never struck her.  I yearned
for the satisfaction of that memory, though now it was too late.  I had no
doubt she was in the crowd somewhere, or, more likely, watching from a
window of the castle.

   I looked again at Gailia.  Tears streamed down her cheeks.  She stared
at me, imploringly.  I mouthed "Go!" to her.  "Go!  Go away!" I did not
want her to see this.  This is not how I wanted her to remember me.  I
wanted her to remember the small happinesses we shared, as she grew up and
this receded from her memory.  But I was sorry this had made her cry. 
That's what I hated most about dying, that it caused her pain.  There is
something about the tears of a child, something that surpasses all the
grief and pains of the adult world.  So sincere, so honest.  So unbearable.
Yet another example of the things she had taught me, I realized.  I had
taken so much more from her than I'd given.  I felt ashamed.

   I stared intensely at her, as I felt the executioners grasp the cross
and lift me into the air.  I saw her mother turn, and guide her away, back
into the crowd.  I was pleased that she would not see the end.  There was
one last hurried meeting of our gazes, and I winked at her, and mouthed "I
love you!" I saw her mouth move, and she replied in same, and then I
believe she added, "Goodbye!" I wasn't really sure.

   They lifted me into the air over the spike.  The pointed tip of it,
sharpened with a file while we waited, gleamed in the morning sun.  The
head executioner placed his hands on my stomach, and ripped my shirt open,
exposing my belly.  The crowd roared.  Give them a show, I thought.  Give
them a fucking show.

   Ribbons streamed gaily from the ends of the cross.  Children would be
selected from the crowd, and would grasp the ribbons and merrily march in a
circle.  The cross would spin, and I would probably scream in agony, and
then finally die.  It might take hours, I'd seen it take that long before.
I was sure I'd get tired of staring down at the wooden planks of the
podium, before it was over.  What a spectacle I had become.  A real
crowd-pleaser.

   I thought of Gailia again.  I wanted to die with her on my mind.  I
thought of her beauty, her long soft hair, and the sensual feeling of her
firm smooth body beneath mine.  Weirdly, and to my discomfort, I felt my
cock begin to harden.  I then thought on less sexual subjects.  I didn't
want to make that much of a spectacle of myself.

   I felt the spike touch me on my belly as they lowered me.  Someone began
reading a statement from the king...  or maybe the Bishop, who knows.  I
didn't listen.  I turned my head and saw birds flying over the castle. 
What a beautiful autumn day it was.  What a beautiful day to die.



   --==+==-



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