Grace and Favour ~ for saedo

[skeptomaniac]

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Eighteen old newlywed duchess Charlotte De Lacey had been travelling for weeks now to her husband's lands. Her father, Earl Baldwin Marshall retained control of what would one day be her dower lands on the eastern coast of Ireland but her new husband had no such restrictions on his power. Gilbert De Lacey was Baron of Whitehaven Castle on the British mainland and also the Isle of Avalon, a key strategic point between Norman ruled England and the celtic rebels on the Emerald Isle to the west.

Gilbert was a powerful Baron in his own right but he had only had the great good fortune to marry a duchess by virtue of services he had rendered King Henry as part of his retinue. The young King prized loyalty above all else and thought nothing of stripping lands away from families who had held them for generations, if their current overlords fell out of favour or were eclipsed by some rising star at court. Gilbert had been born a landless knight but now he held his own lands as well as hers. None of this came without price however. Henry was desperate to put an end to fermenting rebellion to the west and north that divided his attention from his lands in Normandy and relations with the king of France. De Lacey had been given the lands but now he had not only to hold them but to make inroads into firmly held celtic territory.

Avalon Castle was said to be impregnable, perched as it was on treacherous rocks between Avalon Island [modern day Isle of Man] and Whitehaven Port. The safe harbouring points and ways in were closely guarded secrets. Nobody left service at Avalon Keep, they were slain to protect its secrets. This policy had worked wonders to still the idle tongues of the servants and men-at-arms but it instilled far more fear than loyalty and Charlotte was dubious about the merits of such a practice.

Not that Gilbert was ever likely to ask her her thoughts on such matters. It had become more than clear during their honeymoon en route to Whitehaven that he saw her as nothing more than another trophy. Gilbert was an experienced knight of eight and thirty, a stocky, barrel chested and florid man who viewed women as an entirely different species. He treated Charlotte like a wayward child, except in the bedroom.

On their wedding knight, Charlotte had been understandably terrified and resigned about her duty. She had tried to find the balance between being relaxed with wine but not in her cups and nauseous. Her personal maid, Becca, had been the only person willing to explain what her new husband would do to her. It sounded revolting. Becca had said it was an act of pleasure, once the wedding night was done with. Gilbert had started off kissing her gently but had soon grown excited. He rubbed the apex of her thighs for a minute or two and Charlotte had been surprised by the squirmy feelings that began stirring in her. Before anything could build within her however, Gilbert was mounting her in the proscribed manner endorsed by the Catholic church and jabbing his penis into her. She felt herself tearing inside and struggled instinctively but he held her down and told her it wouldn't hurt much. It had. Gilbert had sawed in and out of her for ten minutes and then dumped his seed into her. Charlotte had curled away from him and cried silently while he snored loud enough to lift the rafters. She had ached for a couple of days after that.

Becca had been keen to hear about the wedding night but upon seeing the new bride's face the following morning she had held her peace. Charlotte had walked gingerly about the place and it was a full two days before she consented to ride anywhere on horseback. Gilbert was keen to sire heirs on her and made use of her every night. Charlotte went through the motions but she really had not the slightest shred of love for the man and nor did he command her respect. As a tactician he had merit but has a husband and the new lord of a vast estate he was lacking. Where he could have learned from the training Charlotte had had for years regarding the management of her birthright, he chose not to. Charlotte was left to mind her distaff and fume in silence.

Finally, after a week of wedded bliss, she finally confided in Becca, asking the other girl why she had mislead her about the act of love.

"You just need a man with more skill." Becca told her. "There are ways a man can pleasure a woman if he chooses to, if he has a mind to learn. Even the largest man will cause you no pain if he knows what he is about. It is a pity that Gilbert is too accustomed to whores, who are paid to flatter him. That's all he will have known all his years of fighting. Camp followers. There are things you could teach him my lady, if he..." Becca trailed off. Charlotte's face was enough to tell her Gilbert would not thank her for trying to do such a thing. In fact he would immediately question her morals and piety. It was a fundamentally bad idea.

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. There were some things she really wasn't sure she wanted to know. "You then, have experienced this?" She asked, knowing that it was supposed to be her Catholic duty to keep her servants from fornicating but not much caring.

"My life is yours lady, you know that. I would never leave you. But a life of servitude needs to have its moments of indulgence, lady, would you not agree? If you must know, your personal guard and I have been known to give one another comfort. We are careful not to sow any seeds that might bear illegitimate fruit but... there are other ways. Not that my lady would ever need such knowledge." Becca chuckled.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow but elected not to pry further. The less she knew, the less she could be held accountable if their trysts were ever discovered. She looked upon her bodyguard in a different light however, trying to imagine how it was possible such a towering great man could use a woman like Gilbert had without cleaving her in twain.

 

[saedo]

Corwin stood in the doorway and watched the rain splatter on the cobblestones. He had come to find that Avalon's weather tended towards such precipitation. Perhaps the farmers enjoyed day after day of drizzle. He found it rather boring.

Still, it at least kept Her Lady de Lacey indoors. His charge's fondness for horseriding and innate curiosity often drew her off the beaten path. As head of her personal guard, he naturally had to follow. Unfortunately, whereas the petite maiden could readily duck under low-hanging branches, Corwin's height generally meant he met such branches head on - quite literally.

Of course, Lady Charlotte was a maiden no more. She'd been married nearly a fortnight now to Lord Gilbert. It was somewhat hard to reconcile; when he'd started in her father's service, Lady Charlotte had been barely more than a girl. He still found it difficult not to think of her as such. Even though her prodigious bosom and rounded hips clearly proclaimed her a woman grown, he still remembered the redheaded child who'd first asked him to take her riding.

Her father had dispatched him and a small contingent of knights to serve as his daughter's personal guard. It was proving a somewhat dubious honor. Lord Gilbert's own knights took a dim view of outsiders. He suspected they also resented his martial skill. An early practice session demonstrated Corwin was a match for any two of them - and likely three or four of their less skilled - and the locals had become rather standoffish since.

Still, his time here was not without some pleasure. He'd discovered a new type of apple in the castle larder; the firm, sweet flesh made a delightful crunch when he bit into it. The wines here were also quite good; though Corwin tried not to be in his cups over often, he did enjoy the sensation.

And there was Becca. He had known Lady Charlotte's maid nearly as long as he'd known the Lady herself, but they'd had no significant interaction till recently. While Corwin was fond of women, he had always sought his carnal satisfaction outside the Earl's keep. Whereas his size might make a lady's maid balk, a whore eager to earn her coin would not readily refuse him. Moreover, he could count on some measure of secrecy in the brothels, whereas the castle servants were inveterate gossips; Corwin did not care for his sexual conquests to become fodder for their rumors and whispers.

But there was no brothel on the island, so seeking satisfaction required a boat ride to the mainland - not something that Corwin could do with great frequency. This dissatisfaction had turned his attention inside the castle walls, whereupon he chanced upon Becca. It seemed her departure from the Earl's keep had also left behind her own paramour, so she likewise was craving carnal stimulation. The buxom (next to anyone aside from Lady Charlotte) blonde had been sharing his bed periodically ever since.

Tonight would likely be such a night. Becca had intimated as much earlier today, so soon he would need to await her arrival in his chamber. At least this gray, rainy day would have a pleasant finish.

 

[skeptomaniac]

Becca hastened to wash after she had finished her duties, Lady Charlotte now cloistered once more with her new husband in their private chambers. It had grieved her to see the fresh fear and reluctance in her mistress's eyes but there was nought she could do about it. That was how wedlock worked in the aristocracy and Becca certainly wouldn't trade places with the young duchess, not for all the jewels in Christendom. Giles was quite clearly as much of a boar between the sheets as he was on the battlefield. Becca just hoped Charlotte's sharp tongue and quick wit didn't get her beaten into outward docility one day soon.

For herself, she was content to take her comfort where she found it and Charlotte's personal guard more than matched Becca's worldly expectations. He had enough skill to make the experience enjoyable for her and more than enough stamina to have brought Becca to clilmax numerous times before he found somewhere less risky to unload his seed. Becca often wished he would be rougher with her but the man was intensely aware of his own strength and the huge size of his member. He always proceeded with caution. Becca supposed that if she had a mind to exact some sort of revenge on him by crying rape to one such as Lady Charlotte would see the man hanged. Corwin had yet to learn that Becca was the last woman in England who would play him so false, in fact it was she who ached to fear him but Corwin had yet to read the signs in the way Becca yielded so completely when he upped the pace and force of his thrusts, the way she strove to take more of him in her mouth than would physically fit, lacking the nerve to force him into her throat herself, the way she responded when his battle calloused hands scraped painfully over her nipples. Corwin could make hard use of her if he ever had a mind to but Becca still hadn't known him intimately enough for long enough to feel able to ask for rougher sex.

She made her way to his chambers by a circuitous route that took in the servants midden and skirted around the stables. Becca had no desire to be branded a slut in a castle stuffed full of men at arms cut off from the brothels in the town. She had seen what happened to girls branded with reputations. There were too many red blooded men cooped up here who preferred to rape first and confess to the priest for absolution later.

She found the door to his small room unbarred and let herself in. Corwin was not there yet. Becca took the liberty of undressing and getting into his bed to warm it for him. The fact that in her mind this constituted a little act of servitude got her moist between the legs before Corwin even walked through the door. She didn't touch herself however. It was his touch she wanted and denying herself from beginning to pleasure herself in his absence just fuelled her further.

 

[saedo]

Corwin entered his room to find it already occupied. A familiar set of blonde curls rose from his bed. He grinned involuntarily.

"I suspect our Lady does not know how bold her favorite handmaiden is," he observed. "Or have you not just climbed naked into my bed again?"

Becca gave him an impish glance and beckoned him closer, which made Corwin chuckle. Aside from servicing his surging libido, he found the blonde maid to be a great source of lighthearted amusement. On even the dreariest day, she always seemed to be able to draw a smile from him.

Corwin shed the light armor he wore on days around the castle. His underclothes followed, leaving him naked. He stood beside his bed. He looked down his frame and saw his olive skin - a byproduct of his mother's southern heritage - stretched tight over corded muscle and marred by multiple and varied scars. Personally he though his visage woefully inferior to the smooth, pale skin and bountiful curves of Becca, but she always insisted that he was a delight to behold. The soft, squishy noises emanating from beneath the covers suggested that her fingers and pussy agreed.

" You have already started, dear Becca," Corwin observed as he stepped closer to the bed. "Perhaps you'd like to give me a hand so I could join in?"

Corwin was actually straining somewhat to restrain his own arousal. His flaccid cock swung heavily between his thighs, already thick as his wrist. While he was eager to send it on a throbbing climb skyward, he held back for Becca's sake. The blonde seemed to enjoy watching his manhood swell and harden till she couldn't contain its girth even with both hands. Corwin always tried to cater to her desires; he doubted he'd ever find a lover as willing as Becca.

"Best begin, my sweet," he advised. "Just seeing your luscious form in my bed stokes my desires."

 

[skeptomaniac]

Becca did not need telling twice, not where Corwin and his eye watering appendage were concerned. When she had first seen it, even submissive and masochistic Becca had been terrified of trying to accommodate it. Corwin was well used to women balking at his member however, so he was gentle and generous in winning her over. Becca had secretly hoped that now she had the measure of him and still came back for more, Corwin would let go a little and take her deeper than was comfortable. Her whole body ached for him to bottom out and just keep going. She was on a personal mission to persuade him that it wasn't just her pussy that could handle him but the few times he had lubed up with saliva and attempted to enter Becca's rear she had been unable to contain her whimpers and pleas as she clawed at his bedclothes. Instead of recognising them as the expressions of arousal they were, Corwin had simply taken her at her word and withdrawn. As yet nothing could persuade the man that sodomising Becca wouldn't maim her for life, however gently he went about it. Becca, for her part, fantasised often about the big soldier pinning her down and slamming everything he had into her arsehole, heedless of her cries. She retained optimism however that in time Corwin would be gradually persuaded that she wanted what she was asking for and wouldn't cry ravishment come the morning if she wasn't about to sit easily on a chair for some time.

Corwin's stoic determination to be a gentleman in the bedroom was bringing out the harlot in Becca. She couldn't seem to be able to help goading him these days. Becca knew on a deep and rational level that if Corwin ever snapped and used her up like an ale house whore it would be nobody's fault but her own. Corwin himself had yet to come to that conclusion however. You'd think she was Lady Charlotte herself the way he serviced her so gently and expertly.

Her eyes flickered over to the door, to make sure he had barred it. Then Becca tossed the covers aside and crawled across the bed with her round arse high in the air, her big tits swaying but still tight on her young, twenty-five year old body. Her pose couldn't have been more submissive and her gaze didn't climb higher than his heavy, twitching balls, his dick already throbbing lazily at half mast by the time she got to it. Becca lifted his cock and rubbed her face against it, inhaling the sharp, masculine and distinctive aroma that was Corwin. Learning all the tricks she had gleaned from hearing Gilbert's retinue exchanging stories when they were in their cups, Becca gently sucked one of Corwin's pendulous balls into her mouth and rolled it around, flickering her tongue over it. This process was repeated with the other one and then Becca went to town on his now erect cock, sucking it deep enough to bring thick saliva up from the back of her throat. Saliva spilled out of her stuffed mouth and dripped down onto her heaving tits. Becca pulled him out of her mouth, gasping. She knelt up and enfolded Corwin in her slick cleavage, moving her own body up and down him rather than waiting for him to thrust. Her big blue eyes gazed up at Corwin, glazed with lust and silent entreaty.

Surely he would have to be hewn from granite not to see what manner of lovemaking she was offering, if he would only take it. Not even a high class court whore could provide him with better service than her.

 

[saedo]

It still slightly amazed Corwin how eager Becca could be for him. Many of his other conquests were intimidated by his size. Even those that were not seemed to regard it as a burden to be endured. Only a few found it cause for delight and none so ebulliently as Becca.

Still, her eagerness was occasionally cause for concern. While he would sometimes plunge deep enough to bottom out, Becca still wanted more. She'd once vowed to let him penetrate her into her very womb if it would let her fully encompass those last remaining inches. Corwin wasn't even sure such a feat was physically possible, but he was quite sure that battering down that barrier would likely be severely painful for Becca. If her lust drove her to dangerous risks, he must protect her from herself.

Tonight her approach seemed more measured. She sucked his balls in turn, the large spheroids each a healthy mouthful in its own right. Soon his cock throbbed its way towards a stiffness she found pleasing.

She knelt before him so that she could wrap her glorious breasts around his shaft. Their flesh was remarkably firm and smooth. Aided by her saliva, his thick shaft slid along the narrow canyon as if greased.

This was a somewhat new trick in her repertoire. Her original attempts to stroke him off with her hands proved less successful. Her fingers couldn't even encircle his exceptional girth and maintaining control of the throbbing beast became difficult once she'd lubricated it. After some recent experiments, using her magnificent breasts had shown early promise.

Tonight proved no exception. In short order, her strokes were eliciting slick pearls of precum from the tip of his glans. Becca would promptly lick these clean, till the head of his cock glistened with moisture.

"I'm getting close, my sweet," Corwin grunted. "You should either slow down or prepare to receive my seed."

 

[skeptomaniac]

Becca was torn, not literally as she craved but between aching to pleasure Corwin to completion and trying to get him to hold back long enough to pleasure her as well. It was she who took the risk of coming to his chamber after all. Nobody would care who Corwin fucked, not unless it was the duchess herself. Men didn't have reputations made of spun glass that shattered at the merest aspersion.

Becca gently released Corwin's spectacular manhood and drew him down onto the bed with her. She kissed him fiercely, her mouth scented with the delicate aroma of his pre-cum. "Please." She moaned. "I beg you Corwin... give me some release." She was completely pliant in his arms, her eyes wide and beseeching.

@}-;--​

Charlotte waited in their chamber with a jug of wine and two chased silver goblets that had been a bride gift while her husband caroused downstairs with his retinue. He was far more at ease with other baseborn men than his wife. Since they were newlyweds, Cahrlotte was not deaf or daft enough to guess who most of the ribald jokes would be about. Last night she had earned his displeasure by going to bed early alone. What Gilbert could get riled about while in his cups changed daily. There was no right course. Gilbert continued to celebrate and the isolated keep's stocks were dwindling rapidly. They had to restock before the summer's end when there were weeks and even months when the narrow strip of sea between them and Whitehaven was impassable. They had also to look to the west, where the Irish would press any advantage. Charlotte had worked as much out for herself but she had also taken the time to consult with the former castellan, who Gilbert had instantly retired. Sure, he had his threescore years but nobody knew this place better or had survived more seasons of privation here. The man was a valuable resource the Gilbert had chosen to squander. Had it not been for Charlotte's quiet and amiable insistence that he stay a while as their guest, they would not even have gleaned what little she now knew. Like as nought Gilbert would be heedless.

Now was not the time to try however, not when he was intoxicated. The morrow would be different however.

There was a loud clatter as Gilbert collided with the bottom of the stairs to their chamber. He wasn't incapacitated - a great pity - but he was definitely halfway there. He burst through the door and barred it behind him, shutting out some boisterous cheers. Charlotte sipped her own wine and neglected to pour him any. Gilbert sat down in his chair and tugged inexpertly at his boots.

"Get over here woman and bring the wine with you." He snapped, yanking a bootlace into a hideous knot and scowling at it.

"It would appear that my Lord husband is replete." Charlotte replied with acid sweetness. She set down her own goblet and knelt beside him to work upon the knot.

Gilbert glared down at the top of his wife's copper haired head. He leaned over the chair to pull her hair out of its bindings. She favoured her Irish rather than Norman lineage and Gilbert hated the Irish. His fist bunched dangerously into her curls. "I'll decide when I'm replete." He hissed. He knew she was only calling him 'lord' as a goad, since he had had no lands or titles until he had been given Charlotte in marriage by the King. Everyone else acknowledged it as his due except this spoiled bitch and he wasn't going to stand for it in his own marital bed. When she didn't immediately move to fill his goblet he kicked her in the ribs, his manhood twitching as she srawled across the floor and finally did his bidding.

Charlotte poured Gilbert his wine and wished heartily that she could contrive to void her bladder into it. She had known he was tiring of having a wife with wits but she did not have it within her to simper or to pretend he was always in the right. She was supposed to be his helpmeet, not a sycophant. He was steering them both into strife and only she could see it.

Gilbert pulled her down onto his lap and unlaced her gown. Charlotte was not accustomed to sitting with her breasts out like an ale house slattern. His touch on them was possessive and assessing and not really aimed at coaxing desire from her. Gilbert lifted his gaze from her bosom and saw how unmoved Charlotte was, which irritated him. He groped her harder.

"I see old Rhys is still with us, I had thought he would take the boat home today."

"There is much we can learn from him." Charlotte said quietly. "He is also one of the few here who know all the castle's secrets. Perhaps it is unwise to let him leave."

He shoved her off of his lap and watched her fall to the floor. "I'll decide what is unwise." When Charlotte would have protested he backhanded her across the face. "There are better things you can be doing with that sharp tongue of yours. It's time you learned your place." Gilbert stood over her and unfastened his braies with surprising dexterity. "You may be of high birth but you've been sold to me. The King gave you... to me." He grabbed and handful of her hair when she would have tried to evade him and used his other hand to free his thick, eight inch cock. "So now you're mine. Like a brood mare at market." He knelt down and ripped her dress open, stripping Charlotte naked on the rush strewn floor. Gilbert then stood again and seized a riding crop from his coffer. "If I have to whip you into your bit and bridle, so be it. You'll wear it all the same." He jammed his cock into her mouth dragged her head up and down it so the got the idea. "Suck me. Suck me like the court whore King Henry made you when he gave you away."

Charlotte was forced to kneel there as Gilbert snarled instructions at her, bidding her suck harder, move her head more, cup his balls. He motivated her by attacking her alabaster pale backside with the riding crop, raising welts all over her. She had never been subjected to anything so unnatural or cruel. When he tired of that, Gilbert denounced her efforts as 'useless' and moved behind her.

"Dry as dust." He snarled. Gilbert spat into his hand, coating himself in saliva and slapping a fair amount onto Charlotte's pussylips. He pressed her back into a deep arch and rammed his shaft into her. She was still sore from last night, her pussy almost swollen shut. He had never felt anything so tight. Gilbert shoved her face down in the rushes and angled his thrusts downwards, taking her bruised pussy as hard, deep and fast as he could. Charlotte could only cry out in anguish. His hips slammed into her welt covered bottom again and again. Charlotte began crying.

"This is how dogs fuck, duchess. Is that base enough for you?"

A few minutes later Gilbert blasted his seed into her. When he was finally spent he withdrew slowly and brought one large hand down hard on Charlotte's swollen buttock in a resounding smack that he repeated on the other cheek.

"Give me less than my due again my lady and I will take great pleasure in making you wish you had not. It's that simple."

He used the chamberpot, drained his glass and fell straight into bed.

"Now I'm replete." He chuckled.

 

[saedo]

Corwin lay with Becca a few minutes as they locked lips. Corwin's experience in this area was somewhat limited - one doesn't kiss a whore - but Becca seemed quite skilled. She seemed capable of the most interesting maneuvers with her tongue.

The temporary sojourn also gave his ardor time to cool. The thick pillar between their bellies remained hard as iron, but no longer throbbed with quite the same intensity. Becca had rather swiftly learned how to manage his lust so that it didn't expend itself too rapidly.

When the time came, the busty blonde rolled on her back and beckoned him to proceed. Corwin pushed her thighs apart and let her hands guide the helmet-shaped tip to her entrance. As always, the plump lips of her pussy seemed far too small a portal to admit him. He consequently enjoyed watching her flesh stretch and distort as he pushed inside.

Becca was moist and warm, her wondrous flesh enveloping him. Corwin took his time proceeding. Instinct urged him to plunge into her, but he knew that rapid insertion could be very painful for her. Becca had assured him on prior occasions that she didn't mind, but the high pitched squeals that she uttered moved him towards caution. He forced himself to go slowly, giving her time to adjust to his girth.

 

[skeptomaniac]

Charlotte lay in bed beside her husband refusing to cry. Her backside stung and would be covered in welts come the morrow. She could not believe that Gilbert had dared to assault her so but even if she could bring herself to... who could she tell? His authority on this rock was absolute. Now she knew what manner of man he was, Charlotte was going to have to be a lot more careful around him.

She was not going to endure abuse like this for the rest of her life however. Charlotte silently swore it to herself.

@}-;--​

Corwin was such a clumsy kisser, it always oddly endeared him to Becca. As usual, she gave up after a moment or two and focused her full attention on the matter in hand.

She loved it when Corwin first filled her, it always stretched her out like a virgin bride. She lay back and guided him with passionate haste. Corwin was always determined to be gentle and cautious but Becca pulled his weight down onto her and his cock punched deep into her. Predictably, Corwin hesitated and would even have pulled back but Becca was not to be thwarted. She groaned lustily and wrapper her arms as far around his broad back as they would go. Becca spread her legs wide, until her knees were beside her ears and ground her sex upwards.

"Yes!"

She had learned that Corwin could not endure her squealing in protest at his size within her, however much she tried to reassure him and convey that it was what she wanted. This time Becca covered her internal discomfort with deep, guttural gasps of the word 'yes.' It hurt so good that it was a real challenge to behave as though it didn't but Becca did her absolute best. The wait for Corwin to be satisfied that it was safe to start thrusting always drove her insane.

"Please Corwin!" She cried desperately.

 

[saedo]

"Please Corwin!"

Corwin could hear the plaintive note in Becca's voice. She had insisted on multiple occasions that she was quite capable of determining when she was ready. Despite his usual misgivings, he pulled his hips out and began to thrust into her.

He kept his pace slow, but the buxom blonde was soon urging him onward. Corwin complied somewhat. He was reluctant to endure another post-coital lecture from her accusing him of torturing her with his methodical pace; however, he still didn't trust Becca to know her own limits. Already her body shook with every plunge into her.

The matter soon became moot. Corwin's lust - already primed with Becca's lengthy breast foreplay - soon crested. Becca squealed as his girth swelled within her. Shortly thereafter, the first thick jet of his seed rocketed into her.

 

[skeptomaniac]

Even when he was holding back, Corwin's lovemaking turned Becca inside out. She clung to him desperately and bit her lips to keep her cries from becoming too pained. Corwin was sufficiently roused now though that his baser instincts were taking over. Becca came on his thick shaft and was almost out of her mind when Corwin's own climax hit.

Almost.

Suddenly she was squirming out from under him, writhing to dislodge him even as he came.

"What are you doing!?" She cried as loudly as she dared to given that she wasn't supposed to be in his room. "You cannot use me thus!"

Once she was out of his grasp, Becca flung her gown over her head, heedless of the rivulets of Corwin's seed running down her inner thighs.

"How could you forget yourself like that?" She remonstrated, eyeing Corwin's deflating member with open hostility now. "Well I will not lose my place here to bear a bastard babe to a selfish lackwit!"

She knew full well that Corwin's nature was not one of selfishness but it wounded her to know that she was the only one taking a risk here. The consequences for Corwin if he were discovered rutting with a lady's maid would be a mild reprimand tempered with male camaraderie. She had seen it countless times in others.

Becca hastily bound up her hair and threw her shawl about herself. It would suffice. She set her hand to the door.

"I will have to spend coin with the herbwife and after that I'll be a vestal for at least a moon. You will have ample time to think on your conduct, Corwin."

Resisting the urge to flounce, Becca went from the room as unobtrusively as she could and retraced her route. En route to her quarters she visited the female servants wash hut. There was just enough moonlight to allow her to see without a candle. Becca hitched up her skirts and then braced herself while she washed herself out with ice cold water.

"Damn you Corwin!" She hissed.

The cold lanced upwards through her as though she had been speared with an icicle. The shock of it on her freshly fucked womanhood was indescribable. Her bullet hard clitoris ached so hard it felt like it would freeze solid and simply fall away from her body. Becca began to shiver violently, her hips juddering as she forced herself to wipe herself with a clean rag.

Then the cold began ebbing away, blood rushing to her genitals once more. What she experienced as sensation returned to her caused Becca's knees to unlock. She gasped quietly at the way her pussy throbbed, the cool night air lapping against it. Despite sluicing herself of her natural fluids along with Corwin's, Becca could feel herself beginning to moisten again. She sighed at the unexpected shock of it, her hand drifting absently towards her vulva.

A dog barked somewhere on the keep's perimeter, wrenching her from her reverie. Before she forgot herself completely and somebody came upon her, Becca dropped her skirts and endeavoured to walk in a straight line.

Corwin had never before forgotten the conditions of their little arrangement. He had not been drunk or angry (oh, how she would love to have him drunk and angry) and the knowledge that he could so forget himself without any extenuating circumstances had shocked her greatly.

She would not conceive. Becca was a veteran of the herbwife's contraceptive measures, she just could not harvest the ingredients she needed here on this isolated rock.

She would wait a month to be safe but whether it would be Corwin she lured to her bed next time remained to be seen. Maybe someone with the self control to use her as she wanted to be used but still not impregnate her with his seed. Oh there were at least a hundred such men in Avalon but she dare trust a one of them with her body and her reputation? Corwin would have plenty of time to make amends and restore her good favour and maybe if she toyed with him enough, she could finally goad him into the savage coupling she truly craved. The onus was upon him now. Becca had never chased after a man in her young life and she had little enough reason now.

 

[saedo]

Corwin heaved an empty stein from his bedside table at the blonde's fleeing form and bellowed angrily as it bounced off the door frame. Probably just as well. Angry as he was now, he'd feel regretful in the morning if he had connected.

Moreover, he'd set all the castle gossips to twittering if a knight killed a maid in the middle of the night. Lord Gilbert would probably have a few questions. His Lordship wasn't particularly fond of the lower classes, but he did strive to maintain a certain reputation. Gilbert would probably make him apologize for the transgression. Corwin could imagine the other house guard sniggering behind their gauntlets about that for days.

He rolled over and cursed the fickle female. He'd fucked enough whores to know that Becca took her precautions far too seriously. After all, their livelihood depended on spreading their legs without acquiring a child, so they ought to know. But one time he'd suggested he heed their advice, she'd turned a furious pink and refused to speak to him for a week. Apparently it was a great indignity to suggest a lady's maid should heed the advice of a whore.

Well, he'd likely soon be paying for it soon enough. No doubt Becca would be shunning his bed for a time. He expected that she'd eventually forgive him. Becca's passion was too great to permanently cool, so she'd welcome him back when her own desires overcame her anger. But since that might mean many days from now, he'd have to plan some visits outside the keep to sate his needs.

Corwin closed his eyes, but sleep was slow to come. He'd rest poorly this night.