"The Dead Raven" (closed)

[TiredFingers]

"The Dead Raven"

(CLOSED)​

Henry noticed the gradual but significant lowering of the din of the pub patrons before he noticed the small group of people who had entered the establishment and unwittingly caused the calming of the normally raucous crowd. It took a moment for all eyes to turn to the seven people standing just inside the door, but ultimately all attention was upon them. Women and children unaccompanied by male escorts simply did not enter The Dead Raven. Ever!

As the eyes of most of the small group surveyed the tavern and its occupants with expressions of concern or even fear, one of the group's members gestured toward an unoccupied table on the wall not far from the corner in which Henry sat. With hesitation, they all moved that direction; the patrons of The Dead Raven slowly returned to their drinking, laughing, and -- for those fortunate enough to have a wench at their side or in their lap -- groping and other such physical pleasures. The newcomers were not forgotten, though; while less obvious, there were still a great interest in them amongst the mostly male and mostly ill-thinking patronage of the tavern.

As the others in the group settled upon the two bench seats flanking the table, the member who had led them to the table pulled back the hood of a rain soaked cloak to reveal herself as a strikingly beautiful woman in perhaps her mid-thirties. Henry studied her as she herself surveyed the establishment. Soon enough, she made eye contact with Henry. They stared at one another for a moment before she turned away.

Did she recognize me? he wondered. The patrons of The Dead Raven didn't know Henry for Adam, but elsewhere in the Kingdom, his face -- and sometimes his name -- had been well known to many.

Little by little, the others in the group pulled back hoods or shed cloaks entirely as they settled around the table. Henry studied each of them for a moment: in addition to the older, still-standing woman, there was a young female perhaps 20 years of age; a young man of a similar age; a boy and girl who looked to be barely into double digit ages; and a girl whose age was certainly countable on one hand alone.

And the seventh of the group? Henry knew this person was female by her movement and build, and he suspected that she was young after getting the briefest of glimpses at the face that was otherwise still hidden beneath the oversized hood of her cloak. It didn't take a genius to imagine that she was concealing her identity intentionally. Why? Henry thought to himself. Who are you, and more importantly, why do you wish us not to know who you are?

Henry looked about the tavern and found a number of others looking to the woman as well. The patrons of The Dead Raven were often the most retched of individuals: thieves, murderers, rapists, slavers, assassins, mercenaries, and traitors. At various times in his life, Henry himself had fallen into each of these categories of lowlifes. And what about today? Today he was none of those things; today, he was just a man sitting in a tavern drinking, eating, and staying warm.

Little did he know that that was all going to change soon … and in a very dramatic, very unexpected way.

Henry spent a few minutes studying both the group of newcomers and the patrons whose interest in them was continuing and even intensifying. The Innkeeper eventually came to the group's table and engaged the eldest of the women in a conversation. What began as a polite inquiry into what they wanted in food and drink very quickly became a heated confrontation when it became obvious that the group had no coin with which to pay for what they'd ordered.

"If you can't pay, you can't stay," the Innkeeper said in a low voice, trying to be both firm and sympathetic at the same time. His gaze shifted between the woman of 30 or so and the woman of 20 or so before he told the former in a soft tone, "There are ways the pair of you can earn coin in a place like this, of course."

Then he looked to the young male and added, "Him, too. I know of at least one patron who'd like him just fine."

Henry couldn't hear the older woman's response, but he could see in the Innkeeper's face that it had been a negative one. The man once again made it clear that without coin, the group would have to leave. Suddenly, though, the younger woman said firmly, "I'll do it. If it will gain enough coin to feed us all … dinner and breakfast ... and a room for the night."

The Innkeeper laughed aloud, responding, "There ain't no slit worth that, even one 'tween the thighs of a pretty thing like you, Missy."

A trio of rough looking men who'd been eyeing the table's occupants interjected themselves into the conversation. They jingled coins out onto their own table and began haggling with the Innkeeper -- not with the newcomers -- over how much it would cost for all three of them to have the night with both the 20-something and the 30-something. One of the men added with an evil smile, "And the boy, too."

The clattering sound of another handful of coins changed the conversation in an instant, though. The Innkeeper looked to the silver Henry had dropped onto the table at which the newcomers sat, then to Henry himself. The proprietor's lips spread in a smirk as he quipped, "Looks like we have a new bidder."

"Feed these people," Henry said with a firm tone, adding, "And get them a room, one with a fireplace and bath. You have a vacancy, yes?"

The Innkeeper didn't immediately respond; his attention was shifting between Henry and the three men whose anger at being cut off by the stranger was beginning to appear threatening. When pressed by Henry again, though, he answered with a tone of rising concern, "Yes, m'lord. The one next to your room is empty. I'll have my girl make it ready."

Henry looked to the mysterious woman who was now peeking out from under her cloak's hood at him. They stared at one another for a moment before she turned her head to again hide her seemingly young and pretty face. Henry looked to the older woman, then to the other.

"My new friend and I will take a large platter of food and dessert, a flagon of ale, and two cups in my room," he said, speaking to the Innkeeper even while he was looking to and offering out a hand out toward the pretty thing who had offered up her body to feed and house the others for a day. Then to her Henry asked, "M'lady?"

Before she could respond in any way, though, the three men had risen to their feet, pushed the Innkeeper out of the way, and stepped up threateningly close to Henry. The one who had been doing most of the talking earlier growled, "You're not going anywhere when our women, asshole. Why don't you just go back to your table and--"

The man words instantly shifted to gurgles, though, when in a flash Henry's hand caught him in the Adams Apple with great quickness and force. As the man was stumbling backward, grasping at his throat, Henry pulled a short sword from under his own long cloak and put the tip of it to a second man's throat as the third man simply stared with wide eyes at the sudden turn of events.

"You can either die here and now," Henry said with a quiet but firm tone, "Or you can sit back down at your table … to drink and eat and forget you ever saw these people."

Without looking behind him to the group's table, Henry reached back to find one of the smaller silver coins upon it. He offered it out between two pinching fingers to the man whose neck was ever so slightly bleeding from the sharp point pressing into its flesh. He added, "I'll even pay."

The man hesitated but eventually raised a hand slowly to gingerly take the offered coin. He asked softly, "What people?"

Henry pulled the sword's tip away from the man's neck, then lowered the weapon to his side. Glancing to the first man he'd attacked, Henry found the gurgling had stopped and the man had gone quiet; the injury to his neck bones had likely cut into his neck's vessels, flooding his lungs with blood and drowning him.

"Take your friend outside," Henry told the second man, who was checking his own neck, finding nothing more than a few drops of blood. Before turning back to the group at the table, Henry told the man, "Dispose of him in whatever fashion you feel fit."

Looking down to the women at the table, Henry again offered a hand out to the 20-something. "Shall we, m'lady?"

 

[Alice2015]

Helen had been hesitant to enter the tavern. She knew the same thing the man named Henry knew. This was no place for women and children unaccompanied by armed male escorts.

What came next only reinforced that belief. When the excitement was over, a stranger with an ample amount of coin was offering his hand out to Charmaine, asking, "Shall we, m'lady?"

The 22 year old looked to Helen, who was a decade her senior. She glanced to the coins on the table, then up to the man. Then she laid her hand in his and let him help her out of her seat. "Yes, m'lord."

"You don't need to do this," Helen said barely above a whisper. "There are other ways for us to--"

"No," Charmaine interrupted. She looked to the man. "My friends will be fed? Given a warm room?"

He responded as she'd expected. Charmaine reassured Helen that she'd be okay. One last glance at the others and she headed for the stairs that led to the rooms on the second floor.

"Where's she going?" Lorraine asked innocently.

Helen looked to the 9 year old. In a sweet tone, she told the girl, "Do not worry, child. She is only checking on our rooms, making sure they are warm and dry, building a fire."

She looked to the inn keeper. With an expectant tone she asked, "May we have food and drink now, sir?"

As the inn keeper went off to get their meal, Charmaine was entering a door on the second floor. It was a simple room with a bed, small table and chair, and a wardrobe that contained a few abandoned items of clothing. She paced slowly about the room before finally turning to face the man. Pulling the bow loose at her neckline, she let her still wet cloak fall to the floor. She unhooked the front of her gown and let it fall away, too. Her shift revealed the curves of her bosom and hips. Her nipples hardened to the cool air of the room.

"My name is Charmaine," she told him. She looked to the bed, then back to the man. She said with a soft tone, "You may have your way with me, m'lord. I only ask that you don't hurt me."

 

[TiredFingers]

"My friends will be fed?" the young woman asked. "Given a warm room?"

"Yes, they will," Henry reassured her. He looked to the Innkeeper, telling him, "Meat and the trimmings. Ale, wine, clean water. Dessert ... bring them one of those pies ... no ... two. And send your girl to the room ... to stoke a fire."

The Innkeeper agreed to all emphatically, then headed for the kitchen. Henry followed the young woman to and up the stairs, then took the lead on the second level to get them to his room. Inside, he watched her walk around the room casually before beginning to undress.

"My name is Charmaine," she told him. "You may have your way with me, m'lord. I only ask that you don't hurt me."

"I will not hurt you," he reassured the young woman as he walked slowly up to her. "My name is Henry."

He let his eyes take a walk over her womanly curves, then looked Charmaine in the eyes for a long moment before saying, "Tell me who the woman in the cloak is … and you will not need to serve me."

 

[Alice2015]

The man who'd paid to fuck her told Charmaine, "Tell me who the woman in the cloak is … and you will not need to serve me."

Her stomach rolled anxiously and the blood rushed from her face. Charmaine hadn't expected this request. Though, now she realized maybe she should have. Eleanor's shading of her face hadn't been very subtle after all.

The others had protected the younger woman's identity for nearly half a year now. Charmaine couldn't tell Henry, of course. But to not tell him would likely only impress upon him that the girl's identity was in fact a significant secret. So, what to do...?

"Perhaps I am not serving you," Charmaine said with a flirty tone as she reached to her shoulders to begin loosing her shift from them. "Perhaps you are serving me."

The shift fell past Charmaine's arms and waist to the floor. A pull at the bow-tied string about her waist dropped the slip from her waist, too. With the exception of her knee high stockings, she was very quickly naked before Henry.

Charmaine wasn't a whore. This was why Helen had attempted to prevent what was happening now. But, as she'd told the elder female, she was no maiden either. And this was something she could easily do for the sake of the others.

She felt a bit self conscious, standing here like this. Oh, it wasn't because she naked before a stranger who'd paid to fuck her. She been here before, thrice if anyone was counting. No, Charmaine's concern was more about not having been able to properly care for her body over the past half a year of flight and hiding. Although she'd cleaned her pits streamside this morning, her last rag-bath with hot water had been almost a week ago. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd actually been in a hot tub with a bar of soap in her hands.

And the hair she had once regularly shaved from her form had long since grown back. Oh, it wasn't as though she appeared to be half bear. Charmaine's body hair was thin, short, soft, and an almost invisible blonde. With the exception of the small patch of it at the meeting of her thighs, it was hardly noticeable.

But that didn't prevent Charmaine from fearing that Henry would be repelled by her natural appearance. Would he turn away now, retrieve his money, and leave her to the likely ravages of such men as those he'd attacked earlier?

She moved closer to Henry and began unfastening his belt, not wanting him to have time to chose a path less beneficial to her and her fellow travelers...

 

[Alice2015]

Downstairs in the tavern, Charmaine's six traveling partners were eagerly devouring the food and drink that now filled their table. Helen couldn't help but smile at the delight in the other's faces. She couldn't remember the last time the group had finished a meal without most of them still being hungry. Tonight, bellies would be filled.

Delight wasn't the only emotion she was seeing, though. Eleanor's face showed the concern and even fear that had overwhelmed her for the past six months. The group had faced many dangers in their quest to protect Eleanor from her enemies. This tavern was likely full of men who fell into that category. Looking about the establishment, Helen still found many sets of eyes gazing upon them.

She looked back to the young woman, met her gaze, smiled, and winked. Even though she didn't -- couldn't -- confidently believe it herself, Helen whispered, "We're safe here. You're safe here. Trust me. Enjoy your meal."

Helen looked directly across the table to Connor. The face of the recently turned 18 year old was filled with a much different emotion: disappointment. Helen understood its source, of course. He'd been a transient, a boy wandering the world without direction, much as the others had been for four months at that point.

From the moment he'd found them, a lust had burned within him for the young woman now upstairs with a stranger. Helen couldn't blame Connor for his feelings. After all, the first time he'd laid eyes upon Charmaine, she's been standing knee deep in a stream bathing her naked body. And the young beauty had done nothing to hide her womanly form from his widely opened eyes. Instead, she'd only smiled, asked him his name, and continued wiping a cloth over her young, firm curves.

Helen had learned about the encounter later when Charmaine led Connor to the nearby camp. She'd chastised the girl with such venom as to nearly make Charmaine cry. The teasing had ceased with that first meeting on the bank. But the lust for Charmaine still lived deep within Connor, Helen knew. And knowing that the four years older young woman was now upstairs giving herself to a stranger so that the others could eat and sleep in warm, dry, soft beds had to be hard for him.

The platters, bowls, and pitchers were soon empty and, in some cases, licked clean. The inn keeper appeared again with a large platter. On it were a dozen small metal saucers, each containing a slice of pie. Helen raised an eyebrow at the inn keeper, who diverted his eyes in shame.

Henry had told the man to bring the group two pies. The implication had been that they were to receive two full pies. Instead, he'd brought out the remaining slices of several already cut pies. It was still dessert, though. And to be honest, there was likely more than two pies now being distributed about the table.

When the inn keeper made eye contact with Helen again, she asked, "Perhaps you have a pitcher of cold milk to go with the five flavors in which our two pies come?"

The inn keeper's face went red. He nodded politely and rushed off. He returned with two half filled pitchers, explaining, "Cow … and goat?"

The six gobbled up their desserts and easily finished off the pitchers of milk. Helen directed, "Upstairs now."

As directed, the inn keeper had sent a girl up to prepare the room. She was in her late teens and immediately introduced herself as Rosalee. She had stoked the coals in the fireplace, creating what was now nearly a raging inferno. Over it, a large kettle of water was near to boiling. She'd already begun filling a half-barrel tub sitting behind a screen nearby.

"We can bring in a second tub," Rosalee offered after seeing just how many were to stay here tonight. Looking to the two beds that each would barely serve two adults or perhaps three children, she said, "And there are straw mattresses unused in another room if you wish more beds on the floor."

Helen and Connor assisted the inn keeper's daughter in moving the additional furnishings to the room. As they worked, Helen couldn't help but notice Connor's ogling of the beautiful and dramatically shaped girl. At one point she leaned to perform a task, putting her bountiful bosom and its deep cleavage on display. Connor simply froze before Rosalee, his eyes wide and mouth both open wide.

Helen gave the lusting young man an inconspicuous slap across the shoulder. As he stood upright with a shocked expression of embarrassment, Helen quietly demanded he get back to work.

Soon, both tubs were filled with giggling, splashing children. The older members of the group scrubbed them raw in an attempt to remove weeks worth of dirt, grime, and smell. Rosalee produced several night gowns from the laundry downstairs. They were all adult size and too big for the little ones, of course. They were intended for overnight guests whose clothes would be washed and dried and returned the next morning for their departures.

"We do not get many children here as you can probably guess," Rosalee explained. To one of the little girls she said, "You must lift it to walk or you will fall on your face."

"It matters not," Helen told her as she snatched up the girl and laid her out on a bed. "No one's going to be walking anywhere this evening. Go to sleep, child. All of you, go to sleep."

Rosalee set about other tasks, such as refilling the firewood bin and replacing the fresh water pitchers. She asked Helen if there was more she could do. Told no, she half-bowed in respect and excused herself, finishing, "My room is at the end of the landing if you need anything more."

Soon, the room was very quiet and still. The youngest ones were out almost as soon as they were laid down upon the straw mattresses. Helen found Connor standing near one of the walls with a distant expression on his face. She studied him a moment, wondering what thoughts filled his mind.

Then she heard the sound that was likely filling the young man's own ears: the sound of energetic lovemaking. Helen knew, of course, that the adjacent room was that of the benevolent stranger. Which meant...

Well...

"Connor," Helen said softly, repeating the young man's name a second time to gain his attention. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Why don't you bathe, then sleep. Do you want me to change out the water?"

She hoped he could ignore what he was hearing and settle down for the night. Either way, Helen herself would lay down in one of the beds, sleep, and with any luck get in her own bath in the morning before they once again began their trek to no where in particular.

 

[TiredFingers]

"Perhaps I am not serving you," the young woman told Henry as she began to disrobe. "Perhaps you are serving me."

It only took seconds for Charmaine body to become exposed to him. His cock had already come to life, but seeing her incredible naked form caused his semi-hard member to become fully erect in a flash. Charmaine was indeed a very beautiful young woman: perfect, firm breasts; a gentle hourglass figure; shapely hips; long, lean legs. Henry didn't think twice about the muff of kinky blonde curls where her thighs met her belly; he'd been with all sorts of women from all sorts of classes -- including the give me coin and you can do anything you want to me class, so he'd seen women who didn't shave, women who did, and women who did in very interesting and unique ways.

Charmaine began to unfasten his clothes when a knock sounded at the door. A female voice announced, "M'lord, my father asked me to bring you and your guest food and drink."

Henry refastened his belt as he made his way to the door. It opened in such a way that Charmaine wasn't in view of the girl outside, the Innkeeper's daughter, Rosalee. Henry took the platter of food from the girl, set it on a small table behind him, then waited as she rushed off and then returned with two pitchers, one of which was filled with wine, the other with goat milk, which Rosalee already knew the man preferred over cow milk.

"Thank you," Henry said as he took a copper coin from a pocket pouch and pressed into her palm. "Do not tell your father I gave you this. Buy yourself something pretty … like yourself."

She blushed, giggled, curtseyed, thanked Henry, and then rushed away. She had another room to tend to, of course. Henry closed the door, moved the food to the larger table near the window that looked out upon the river, and returned to the pitchers with two empty metal cups. He filled them with wine and crossed to Charmaine, still standing nearly naked by the bed. He offered her a cup; if she didn't take it, he would drain it after his own.

He set the cups aside and urged the young woman to the bed before beginning strip himself. It took longer for Henry to undress than it had Charmaine, but soon enough he was naked and on the straw mattress bed with her. He maneuvered to between her parted knees, sitting with his haunches upon his ankles as he looked down upon her bared, pink folds.

"You're beautiful," Henry whispered as he reached a hand out to her pussy, touching it gently, wetting his fingers, massaging her folds, then manipulating her swollen clitoris. He watched her reaction for a long while, continuing to pleasure her with a soft touch. Once she began to writhe upon the bed, Henry rolled his hand over and carefully worked three fingers inside her; ultimately they were sunk deep into her warm, wet hole as far as possible. He asked her with a devilish smirk, "Do you like that?"

Henry continued to finger fuck her for a minute or so. He could have continued with this until Charmaine orgasmed, but Henry's cock was twitching with excitement and he couldn't deny it the pleasure of being inside the young woman any longer. He took hold of one of Charmaine's legs and rolled her to her front side. Grasping her hips and raising her to her knees, Henry laid his larger than average sized, now fully stiffened cock between her ass cheeks, stroked it to and fro a couple of times, then pulled it back until it slipped down to find wetness.

"This might hurt a bit," he warned softly before shoving half of its length inside Charmaine in a forceful intrusion. He waited for her reaction to subside, pulled back a bit, repeated the in and out a couple of times to better wet himself, then shoved nearly his full length inside her. He held there for a bit, withdrew almost entirely … then set to fucking the young woman hard, fast, and deep. She felt so good to him, and it didn't seem to matter to his cock that it had been inside another woman just two nights before. After fewer than two dozen slams against her backside, Henry's cock leapt inside Charmaine's womanhood as he groaned out, "Fu-u-u-u-u-ck … girl … that feels … o-o-o-h … so good."

Henry's grasp on Charmaine's hips remained tight as he maintained his extreme depth within her, his balls emptying their contents within her as the Gods had designed. When the last spasm of his cock had revealed itself, He leaned forward and ultimately was laying atop her, pressing her with his weight into the mattress. He outweighed Charmaine by a good 70 pounds and, after chuckling at a sound she made from being squished beneath him, rolled off to one side, feeling his cock exit her with a wet suctioning sound.

"Clean me off," he whispered to her after they'd simply laid there for a long few minutes. Henry reached one hand to Charmaine's head while the other manipulated her body; his intent was clear, to reposition the young woman so that her head was in his groin and, ultimately, her mouth was on his cock.



A jealous fury was burning inside Connor as he leaned close to the wall and listened to the couple fucking in the next room. He's wanted Charmaine from the moment he'd seen her there bathing in the river. And he'd been sure that she wanted him as well as she'd made no effort to hide her naked body from him. She'd stepped out of the water, slipped into a simple dress, and gestured for him to follow her. And Connor had been sure she was going to take him to a soft bit of grassy ground where she would claim his virginity, making him a man as his older brothers and friends had become already.

Instead, he'd found himself being introduced to a small band of travelers: men, women, children who had at the time totaled a dozen and a half. He'd been uncertain of Charmaine's goal for him then; she'd convinced their leader, Helen, to permit him to join the group, which Connor had thought was prelude to the two of them becoming lovers. It hadn't been. Connor had left his family and home without a word, trekking off into the unknown, hoping to begin a new life as a man, in love and lust with a beautiful young siren who was as pure and yearning as he was. He found himself wondering sometimes about what bothered him most: not having had Charmaine after all these months or knowing that other men had had her not just before they met but since as well.

This man who'd saved them from the undoubtedly savage beasts of the tavern was now the third man to find pleasure between Charmaine's thighs since Connor had joined the group. Connor understood why she serviced these men; she did it for the rest of them and even for Connor himself. She'd prevented them from starving the first time by sleeping with a well to do widower farmer; the second time she'd given herself to a pair of armed men who might otherwise have brutalized one or more or all of them. Tonight, she'd done both: got the group what they needed and prevented the villainous patrons from taking what Henry had paid for.

That didn't mean Connor had to like it. Charmaine was supposed to be his girl … his lover. It was why he'd left his home in the first place. It was why he'd stuck with the group all this time. It was his fate and had been from that moment at the river bank. But as he listened to the mixing sounds of male and female sexual delight, Connor found himself close to running out the door, down the stairs, and out the tavern door for home. No! Not for home. Charmaine hadn't been the only reason he's left home. No, he'd go anywhere else but there if he couldn't stay here.

"Connor … Connor!"

He flinched at the second use of his name and turned to find Helen looking to him with a sympathetic smile. He blushed with shame as he realized she'd been watching him listening to Charmaine and that other man. She asked, "Why don't you bathe, then sleep. Do you want me to change out the water?"

Connor shook his head, telling her he'd take care of it. He thought he caught Helen's gaze shifting downward for a moment before she turned away, and he realized with horror that he was fully erect and pushing the front of his trousers noticeably forward. He turned his back to Helen, though, a bit too late, then headed to behind the screen. He stood there for a long moment, fuming inside from all that was taking place around him. He willed his cock to soften, which it did only after several minutes; he could still here occasional bouts of erotic delight through the wall, and each time he heard it his cock did, too.

Eventually, though, Connor was able to bathe. He dumped several pails of water from the cleanest of tubs onto a chute which led to some point outside the building. He warmed the tub with water from the kettle, stripped, and sunk into the tub up to his chest. If felt incredible, his first real hot bath since joining the group. He just soaked for the longest time before finally locating the soap on the bottom of the tub to begin scrubbing his body. His hands and the bar found his cock, and in very short order it was once again stiff as a rod. Connor listened for Helen for a moment; she had been milling about the room beyond the screen earlier. Hearing nothing from her -- but still hearing the horrid sound from beyond the wall -- Connor took hold of his shaft with a slick, soapy hand and began stroking its full length. Only seconds passed before he erupted in orgasm and found himself having to stifle a moan. His heart pounded in his chest; he could hear it in his ears. He waited until the euphoria had fully waned before finishing his bath, drying, dressing in a clean gown, and slipping into the bedding of a straw mattress on the floor.

He fell asleep to the sound of Charmaine crying out in ecstasy for the umpteenth time.

 

[Alice2015]

After helping bathe and dress the children, Eleanor laid down in the bed farthest from the door. She hadn't picked it for herself. Helen had. Helen had wanted the rest of the group between the Eleanor and the room's entrance. The Matriarch of the group clearly wasn't sure they were entirely safe from the patrons of the still raucous tavern.

Helen had been protecting Eleanor since the latter's birth almost 19 years ago. Helen would give her life for the young woman. Eleanor knew that. Sometimes she felt honored by that commitment. Other times she felt burdened by it.

Charmaine had made a somewhat similar commitment to Eleanor. The former had often given her all to serve the latter. As Eleanor snuggled into the bedding, she couldn't help but smile in amazement. She, like Connor, could hear Charmaine giving her all right now next door.

Could I do that? she wondered to herself. Could I let a stranger do that to me, to provide food and drink and shelter and safety to those for whom I have care and concern?

Eleanor wanted to believe she could do as Charmaine was if the need arose. But could she, honestly? She was still a virgin. She didn't know what it meant to be with a man. She didn't know what it meant to be with a stranger. She was, as Helen called it, pure as the driven snow.

Eleanor's chastity was of utmost importance to a great many people. But was it of importance to Eleanor herself? She lay there for a long while listening to Charmaine's soft moans and sharp cries. She tried to imagine just what the pair were doing to cause such obvious joy. What position were they in? How were they moving? Where were their hands and mouths and, well, the man's manhood?

Eleanor might never have been touched by a man, but that didn't mean she'd never seen a woman touched. Unbeknownst to Helen, a 16 year old Eleanor had discovered that a small shack on the family's property was often used by the estate's servants for sexual encounters. When she'd suspected a rendezvous was imminent, she'd often raced to the shed to hide and watch.

Over two years, Eleanor had watched a variety of couplings between four female and nine male servants. Then she got caught by a more alert pair of lovers. Word reached her father of the shenanigans, and he had the shed burned to the ground. Eleanor knew that the sex wasn't going to simply end. But before she could learn of the new rendezvous location, the Collapse occurred and she, Helen, and the others fled for their lives.

Now, with utmost silence and slow movement, Eleanor again found, wetted, and softly manipulated her sensitive button of joy. She wished she could drive herself to explosion, but that wasn't going to happen. Not here, not now.

She was exhausted, as were most of the others. And despite how good it felt to pleasure herself in this way, Eleanor drifted off into peaceful slumber with her fingers still within the folds of her wet pussy...



Charmaine understood what Henry wanted from her the moment he began guiding her head his torso. She moved willingly, down to between his parted thighs. Without hesitation, she leaned down and began licking her own vaginal lubricant from his shaft. She gripped his shaft at the bottom and milked upward the last drops of cum that hadn't been pumped out of him during orgasm. She licked that from his cock as well, swallowing it.

She'd never really liked performing oral sex on a man. On a woman, sure. She enjoyed the taste of a woman's pussy. But a man's cum? Well, the few drops she'd just gotten from Henry was enough for her. Charmaine lapped at Henry's flesh and sucked on his cock's head until he was beginning to writhe about.

Then, she moved forward and mounted him. Charmaine groaned deep once again, as she had when Henry had earlier forced his way into her with such force. She'd been very close to orgasm when he'd been fucking her earlier. She wanted what Henry had already gotten: satisfaction.

Charmaine went to work with great energy. He felt so good inside her. He was bigger than most of her previous lovers, in both length and girth. At times it hurt a bit, having him so deep inside her, filling her up. But it was worth it.

In only a minute or so, Charmaine's head fell back, her breasts and belly pushed forward, and she cried out in ecstasy. Her entire body trembled down to the core, and her skin erupted in goose flesh.

When the last wave of euphoria had passed, she fell forward to lay upon Henry's muscular torso. After a few minutes, her breathing returned close to normal. Charmaine urged Henry, "Sit up. I want something from you."

She directed him to the middle of the bed, facing the headboard. She moved Henry more forward, crawling into his lap, her legs outside his. After leaning forward and helping him back inside her, Charmaine grasped the headboard in both hands and ordered, "Hard and fast."

Henry grasped her hips as he had earlier, and the two of them fucked until Charmaine was crying out in orgasm and Henry was moaning at yet more ejaculations. They weren't done, though. Charmaine was full of energy, surprising considering her current life. She would direct them to three more positions, each of which had a different feel for Charmaine. Only after she erupted her five or sixth time did she collapsed upon the man's body.

"Enough," she begged. "I have no more service in me."

She couldn't help but let out an exhausted giggle as Henry had serviced her as much as she had him. Actually, if anyone was counting, Henry had serviced Charmaine more than she had him.

 

[TiredFingers]

Henry hadn't expected the raw passion Charmaine provided. She went far above and beyond what he would have expected from a whore or accommodating tavern wench. She pleasured him to three wonderful orgasms before she herself came yet again and begged, "Enough ... I have no more service in me."

He laid her back on the bed, laying down between her quivering legs, his stiff cock still deep inside her. With his elbows pressing into the mattress beneath her shoulders, he took handfuls of her long, blonde hair and manipulated her head to allow his mouth to find her neck, kissing and sucking on her for several minutes while his cock softened in her warmth and wetness. Finally, Henry withdrew from Charmaine's pussy, rolled away, and rose to his feet. He retrieved the platter of food and brought it to the bed, along with a full glass of wine.

"Eat," he commanded as he ripped a piece of tender beef from a bone and held it before her lips. "I can hear your stomach rolling."

They ate and drank for a while, kissing romantically occasionally as if long time lovers. Henry liked this girl, and he could see them being together again and often. When it was obvious that sleep was needed, he rose to put the food aside and pulled the pushed-away bedding up over her body.

"I need to pee," he told her bluntly. There was a chamber pot in the room, but Henry told Charmaine he preferred to go outside. He slipped into his trousers and shirt, slipped his dagger into his buckled belt, and stepped into his boots. He leaned over the bed, kissed Charmaine again, and whispered, "Go to sleep my beautiful golden tigress."

He exited the room quietly and surveyed the tavern below. It had quieted down somewhat despite there still being more than a dozen and a half patrons scattered about the main floor. In one corner, a bulk of a man Henry knew as Gregory was getting a blowjob from a wench on her knees. Henry wanted to discuss business with him, but he was reluctant to interrupt. Three newly arrived patrons sat in the opposite corner drinking ale while picking at a plate of shredded pork and sliced, fried potatoes. The men were knew to the tavern but not at all unknown to Henry. He waited until one of them looked up to him before casually making his way down to join them at their table.

"It's her," he said softly even as he stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth. "It's Lady Eleanor."

"You're certain of this?" one of the men asked with obvious doubt. His name was Kendall, and while he had once been in the employ of the Kingdom of Holloway Green, he and his band -- there were others beside just the two with him now -- made their livings now as a bounty hunter, highwaymen, and all around rogues. When Henry nodded his certainty, Kendall began to rise as he said without hesitation, "Let's go get her."

"No," Henry countered, grasping Kendall's hand and gesturing him to sit. After the band's leader returned to his place on the bench seat, Henry explained, "I think there is an incredible opportunity at hand that we need to consider."

"The incredible opportunity at hand," Kendall stressed with a hard growl, "is turning Lady Eleanor over to Prince Theron and collecting the promised chest of gold and silver."

"I think there is a better opportunity available to us," Henry said with a bit of pleading in his voice. He looked between the three as if surprised they didn't understand what he meant. In a low voice he explained, "She is the heir to the Holloway Green throne … the dead King's only living child, and if she is--"

"And if she is turned over to Theron," Kendall cut in, waiting for Henry to give way before continuing. "If we do as we are being paid, she will quickly become the dead King's last living child … and the Kingdom of Holloway Green will cease to exist … and the war that is continuing between Theron and the surviving members of the Crown Guard will end … and peace will return to the Land."

Henry couldn't help but burst out in laughter that was loud enough to draw attention from all about the bar. He half glanced about the tavern, waited for most of the eyes to turn away, then growled at Kendall, "Theron will never allow peace to exist in the Land, let alone in Kingdom of Holloway Green. Every sovereign nation he has conquered has been ravaged by his forces for his benefit and his benefit alone. Thousands of men killed simply because Theron feared they may one day take up arms against him. Women raped and disappeared into sexual slavery in distant lands, to serve those forces engaged in combat there. Villages robbed of their children … sold into slavery both at home and abroad."

"What choice is there?" Kendall spat back. "Lady Eleanor will be caught … if not today than tomorrow or a day soon after. She will be caught by someone else in Prince Theron's employ … and they they will get the offered treasure, not us. There is no other choice for us."

Henry hesitated a long moment before he offered what he thought was the other and better choice. "We serve her. We serve Lady Eleanor. We protect her and her entourage..."

Kendall was smiling by this point, then started laughing. But Henry continued, "You served her father. You were a Captain in the Guard. Four of the men under you now were Guard. Another was the Sheriff … another a Constable. Most of the others were loyal citizens of Holloway Green … farmers, smithies, teamsters … men who worked hard to serve the Kingdom and, in return, were treated well for their service by a Crown that treasured their loyalty."

Kendall's continued laughter slowed and then ended as he rose from his seat. Looking down at Henry he simply said, "Get up … and take me to her." As Henry rose, Kendall continued, "We'll leave the others here under guard, to ensure they speak to no one … but … Lady Eleanor is coming with us." Kendall laid his hand upon the hilt of his sword and asked, "The only question is … does us include you, Henry?"

As Henry contemplated his answer, the other two men rose from the bench seats and reached for their own blades' handles. Henry smiled politely, shrugged his shoulders, and said with a disappointed tone, "I tried. I had to."

He turned and told the men to follow him. They ascended the stairs with Henry lifting a finger to his lips to signal a need for quiet. They crossed the landing to the room's door where Henry pulled his dagger. He whispered, "There are seven of them but only one man with them, and he is a boy and isn't even armed. We take them by surprise, and no one gets hurt. Agreed?"

After getting a nod from Kendall, Henry raised three fingers of his free hand, and lowered one digit after another until his hand was in a fist. He turned the knob on the door and rushed inside, stepping out of the way of the other three as they surged in behind him. Kendall was the last of the men to enter, and upon quickly surveying the room his face filled with an expression of surprise, then anger at seeing just one person, a young woman laying passed out in a bed with the bedding pushed down to her flat belly, the nipples of her firm breasts pointing to the heavens.

Before he could turn to confront Henry about the situation, the latter's blade sunk deep into neck and upwards into his skull. Henry jerked the blade outward, sending a stream of blood out across the room's floor and wall. One of the two men turned, also aware that they'd fallen into a trap. But a slash of Henry's blade opened that man's neck, and like Kendall before him, he simply collapsed to the hardwood floor.

"Wait!" the third man cried out as he held his hands out and up. "Wait! I'm on your side." A moment passed with Henry threatening the man with his blood covered blade. The man slowly slipped his own dagger back into his belt and swore with a sincere tone, "I am loyal to the Holloway Green throne, Henry. I agree with you. The Lady Eleanor should be protected … and she should be returned to the throne. Please, Henry … please … I want to help you. I want to serve Lady Eleanor."

Henry studied the man for a long moment. Trevor was young, barely 22, but he had been a member of Guard who'd fought valiantly against Prince Theron's forces in a vain attempt to save the Capital City. The two of them had talked a great deal about the future of the Kingdom, and at times Henry had contemplated bringing the young man in on his plan not to turn Lady Eleanor over to the illegitimate ruler of Holloway Green.

"I'll cut off your balls, roast them before you, and feed them to you if ever I sense betrayal," Henry growled, again threatening with the blade in his hand. After Trevor vowed his honesty and loyalty, Henry looked to the bed to find Charmaine sitting up staring at the pair. He smiled weakly, looked at the two men bleeding all over the floor, and said softly, "I should explain."

 

[Alice2015]

Rosalee had always been skilled at moving about the tavern inconspicuously. Her father had taught her that the patrons often had more to offer than just coin. They had information. Numerous times Rosalee had overheard something that either she or her father had been able to use later for their benefit.

But what she was hearing from the four men in the corner shocked her. She'd been cleaning a table that was out of sight of their own but well within eavesdropping distance.

"It's her," said the man who'd hours earlier given her the silver coin and told her to keep it a secret from her father. He added, "It's Lady Eleanor."

Now, Rosalee was little more than a peasant working her father's tavern. But she knew who the Lady Eleanor was. Or had been, she'd thought until now. The story floating about the Kingdom was that along with the rest of her family, Lady Eleanor had been executed. Others claimed she'd been taken away to Prince Theron's castle, where she would one day be wedded to him to legally join the two kingdoms as one.

Rosalee couldn't imagine that Henry was correct. But then she thought of how the young woman at the table earlier this evening had so diligently hidden her identity. Had Henry recognized her? Or had the whore traveling with the Lady told Henry the young noble's identity after their marathon session of sex?

Either way, Rosalee knew without hesitation what she had to do. She backed away from the men and slipped to and out the tavern's front door. She circled the establishment to reenter via the back door. From there, she took the back stairs up to the group's room.

She knocked softly just as the four men were only just heading for the main stairs. She rapped again and begged, "Please, please open the door. Your lives are in danger. Please."

The door cracked open, revealing Helen's concerned face. "Please, you are in danger. Lady Eleanor is in danger. Please, let me come inside."

The door flew open, and Helen pulled the young woman inside. Looking outside but only hearing the sound of men ascending the stairs, she asked Rosalee, "What are you saying? Speak, child."

Rosalee quickly explained what she'd heard. Helen's face was filled with obvious concern. She'd feared the possibility that the man Henry might betray them. But after two hours next door with Charmaine, Helen had actually come to believe they were safe from him.

Connor had heard the knock at the door, too, and he moved to the door as the pair of women spoke.

"How do they know it is me," a female voice inquired. Both Helen and Rosalee turned to find Eleanor standing at the end of the nearest bed. Her face was filled with fear. "How do they know?"

Rosalee explained a portion of what she'd told Helen. But the older woman interrupted the pair. "We must get the children ready to leave."

"Too late," Connor said after closing the door. He looked to Helen, telling her, "They're here."

Helen hurried to her bed, reached under the mattress, and pulled out a dagger. She waved the others back, then waited.

There was silence for a long moment, with only the hint of voices beyond the door. Then, suddenly, there was the sound of a door flying open and boots scuffling across the floor. But, those feet weren't entering this room. Helen was confused, as were the others. She gestured them to stay quiet.

Once again, sounds penetrated the wall between the two rooms. Instead of the cries and moans of ecstasy, though, this time it was a man pleading very clearly, "Wait! Wait! I'm on your side.[/I]"



It wasn't the deadly knife work or even the falling bodies that awoke a very exhausted Charmaine. It was Trevor's pleas for mercy. She jerked back to consciousness, then sat up quickly. The nakedness of her upper body didn't dawn on her as she found Henry and an unknown man, both armed, facing off.

"I'll cut off your balls, roast them before you, and feed them to you if ever I sense betrayal," Henry growled.

It was then that Charmaine caught sight of a body on the floor. Blood was gushing out from the man's neck, spreading across the floor and likely dripping through the boards to the space below.

When she looked back up, Henry said in a surprisingly soft and calm tone, "I should explain."

Only now as she realized that the second man was staring at her bosom did Charmaine lift the bedding to hide her nakedness. "Were these men here to rob you?"

Charmaine asked the question knowing that it was not the situation. She and the others had been living with the fear that Eleanor's identity would be discovered for months now. It had only been a matter of time before some coin-greedy rogues came after her.

Henry began to explain, but Charmaine cut him off. Still naked, she slipped from the bed, pulled her shift over her head, and snatched up the rest of her cothes. "I should return to the others."

 

[TiredFingers]

Charmaine asked, "Were these men here to rob you?"

Henry didn't immediately answer. He knew that answering yes would be the easier response, but if he was to gain the trust of those in the adjacent room, he knew he had to be honest with the woman in his bed first. He glanced at the dagger in his hand; it was stained with blood and brain matter. He turned to the table to snag a rag with which he wiped it relatively clean, returned it to his belt, then stepped closer to the bed and Charmaine.

He explained that he was a member of a band of men -- mercenaries, former soldiers, lawmen, and others -- who had been tasked with an important mission: locating Lady Eleanor and delivering her to Prince Theron. Charmaine was up and out of the bed in an instant, telling him, "I should return to the others."

"But we're not!" he told the young woman, stepping directly between her and the door. As Charmaine straightened to look up into his eyes, Henry explained, "I never intended to turn over Lady Eleanor to Theron. You must believe me. I only needed Kendall and his men to search the area. Finding you … finding the lot of you with your Lady … it was not an easy task, as you very well know. It's been six months since the fall of the Capital, and only now have we located you. If I had been on my own, I could never have succeeded."

Henry looked to the other man, intending to introduce him to Charmaine. He found the man's eyes glued to Charmaine's body. He backhanded the man in the chest, causing Trevor to flinch out of his ogling before very quickly explaining who he was and where his loyalties lay: with Lady Eleanor and the Crown.

"Get dressed," Henry told Charmaine with a polite tone. "Take me to the other room, so I can speak with Lady Eleanor. Please."

Henry stepped quietly out onto the second floor landing. The crowd was much smaller now, with only a handful of men still drinking and chatting while a smaller number of them were passed out at their tables. He looked to Trevor, ordering, "Open the window and drop these men out to the ground. Then, make your way down the back stairs and drag them to the river. Don't forget to empty their pockets."

Trevor's mouth fell open at the orders, leading Henry to question, "Do you want these bodies to be found here, after the Innkeeper and his daughter saw us lead them up here?"

The younger man quickly returned to the room, closing the door behind him. Charmaine led Henry to the other door, knocked lightly, whispered, and waited. The door cracked open, and Charmaine had a short, whispered conversation with a person Henry couldn't see, presumably Helen. After a moment, the door opened wider, and Charmaine led Henry inside. He checked the landing behind him, as well as what portion of the first floor he could see from here, before entering. He closed the door behind him, turned, and froze in place at the sight of Lady Eleanor. She stood there wrapped in a cloak, looking a bit disheveled, as Henry would later consider was expected seeing how she'd been rousted from her bed in the wee hours of the morning.

Henry just stared at the young beauty for a long moment. He'd seen her often in the days before the fall of the Crown, her father's and now her kingdom. He'd even had the pleasure of meeting her once, though, he would never expect her to remember him. He'd been impersonating a wealthy Nobleman's son to gain entry into a ball being held at the castle. He hadn't been there do dance, dine, or mingle, though. He'd been there to kill a despicable, ruthless, and violent Nobleman who had been kidnapping, raping, sodomizing, and then brutally murdering young women, girls, and even boys. Henry's escort had lured the man off to a dark, isolated location for promised oral sex, where Henry captured him and subsequently delivered him to a group comprised of the murdered peasants' family members. As Henry took payment, mounted his horse, and rode away, he could hear the man screaming in agony as the fathers, brothers, and husbands of the dead tore his body apart.

Finally, remembering who the young woman before him had been and still was, Henry removed his hat, bowed low, and said with a sincere tone, "M'Lady Eleanor, my name is Henry of Wallingfordshire … I am a loyal subject of the Crown of Holloway Green … and I am here to protect and serve you in which ever way you will permit me."

He waited for her response, still bent over with his gaze on the floor … or more specifically, her bared feet with their unkept nails and dried skin as they protruded from a simple and miss-sized night gown. Henry had wondered often in the past and he found himself wondering now, too, just what horrors, inconveniences, and degradations the Royal had had to endure during her six months in flight.

 

[Alice2015]

Helen realized she was trembling. She was standing before the door with a dagger in her hand with no idea of what was to come. There was an argument taking place in the adjacent room but between whom? And was that disagreement about to come to this room next.

She flinched in fear as a soft tapping knock sounded at the door. A moment later she heard, "Helen. Helen, it's me, Charmaine. Open up. Helen?"

She looked to Eleanor, who was, of course, her charge. The young woman stood near the end of the bed in an undersized nightgown that showed off her womanly curves and legs from just below her knees.

"Cover yourself, my lady," Helen told her, gesturing toward Eleanor's cloak, drying near the fireplace. "Hood up."

Helen was concerned more about propriety at this moment than hiding the noblewoman's identity. Eleanor's presence here was certainly already known. Rosalee had heard enough to make that known. But Eleanor's body didn't need to be known as well.

Once Eleanor was hidden, Helen went to the door and cracked it open. Charmaine's face practically pushed into the slight space. Beyond her stood the man whose benevolence had gotten them out of the wild and elements and into this room, dry and fed. According to Rosalee, though, this man was also the reason Lady Eleanor's identity was known to others.

Where are the others? Helen wondered as she peered beyond the even more disheveled woman in the hall.

"Let us in, Helen," Charmaine begged. "Henry is here to help. He knows about Lady Eleanor, and he has vowed to protect her."

Helen was doubtful and, in truth, frightened for her charge. But as Charmaine continued to attest that she was telling the truth, Helen backed away from the door. She held the dagger behind her thigh, ready to use it as necessary.

What came next surprised her. Henry entered, caught sight of Eleanor, froze a moment, then bowed.

"M'Lady Eleanor, my name is Henry of Wallingfordshire … I am a loyal subject of the Crown of Holloway Green … and I am here to protect and serve you in which ever way you will permit me."

"What happened next door?" Helen asked Charmaine. "We heard a man pleading for his life."

Before the younger woman could answer, Helen looked to Henry and asked, "Did you tell those men downstairs who my lady is?"

She listened to Henry's reply, which was backed by Charmaine. There were a lot of voices talking over and around one another. Helen's grip on the dagger tightened. Honestly, though, she didn't know whether or not she could use it if she needed.

"I will let you serve me," a female voice through the clutter of voices.

The room went silent, and all eyes turned to Eleanor as she stepped nearer Henry. She lowered her cloak's hood to her back as she stood tall and stared into the man's eyes.

"I need a Captain, sir," Eleanor went on. "I need a protector, to keep me safe, to keep my friends safe. Will you be that man?"

Helen's eyes widened with a combination of surprise and delight. For so long, the young noblewoman had been lost in a wild world. Suddenly, it seemed, she was back.

 

[TiredFingers]

Connor had watched all that was happening in the room in silence, unsure of what to do. He was currently the only adult male in Lady Eleanor's entourage, which in most situations would have meant he was responsible for the safety and security of the group. But he was no warrior or guardsman; he was a simple farm boy who hadn't held anything closer to a true weapon than an ax and even then the only thing he'd killed had been saplings for construction of a new chicken coop.

The man who'd been causing Charmaine so much pleasure over the past hours bowed to Eleanor, introduced himself, and swore his allegiance to her. This was followed by a back and forth between Helen, Charmaine, and Henry which ended when the heir to the Crown of Holloway Green announced, "I will let you serve me."

Suddenly Connor's lack of manly confidence and self worth plummeted again. Eleanor had been polite to him over the past four months that he'd been part of her entourage and had thanked him often when he performed tasks for her. But not once in that time had he ever felt as though he was serving her as he knew Henry would now. Captain...? Really...? You don't even know this man, Connor thought to himself. How can you trust him. Later, Connor would wonder whether his immediate dislike for Henry was more about what he'd been doing next door to Charmaine's body, things that he himself had never been allowed to do. But right now, he honestly was only looking out for Lady Eleanor and the others.

Someone suggested that the group should leave and put distance between them and the tavern-inn. But Henry cut in quickly, telling them, "No! This is the safest place for her Ladyship to be at the moment." He looked to the beds in which the youngsters were still sound asleep and explained, "The men who came here tonight, the men--"

He hesitated a moment, realizing what he was about to say and wondering how it would be taken before continuing, "The men I killed tonight in the next room..." He saw the reactions of the others, then saw Helen look to Charmaine for confirmation. After his new lover nodded and explained what she'd seen, Henry continued, "They didn't come here specifically to take hostage Lady Eleanor. They were only stopping here to sleep over during the storm. Their destination was the Capital City. Kendall, the leader … he will not be missed by the rest of his band for several days. By that time, Trevor and I will have--"

"Who's Trevor?" was asked.

Without details, Henry explained that Trevor was a trusted friend who was dealing with something in the other room. But Charmaine filled in the holes, saying, "He's tossing the two dead bodies of the men who were coming after Lady Eleanor out the window so that no one will know they died here."

"Thank you for the help," Henry said to Charmaine in a whispered growl. He continued his explanation of how the tavern was the safest place, "Trevor and I will return to our camp in the morning and recruit men we know can be trusted. There are four, perhaps five or six, that I can count on … and who your Ladyship can trust. We will return here … and then we can figure out what to do next."

Henry looked to Helen for her approval of his idea. Would she be the one to make the decision, or would she indicate Henry's need to look to Lady Eleanor for her okay?

 

[Alice2015]

Helen studied Henry for a moment. He seemed entirely sincere in what he was offering. She looked to Eleanor, who herself had looked to the matriarch of the group. "I think we should do as Henry says, my lady. I believe his advice is sound."

"I do, too," Eleanor said without hesitation. She looked to Henry once more, asking him, "What shall we do now, sir?"

There was movement outside the room, followed by a soft knock. Rosalee announced herself and asked to come in. They cracked the door to find the girl and her father. The pair were allowed inside.

"I hope it was okay," Rosalee began, speaking first to Helen. She turned to Eleanor. "I told my father who you are, m'lady, and he wishes to help. We were loyal to your father--"

"And we are loyal to you, Lady Eleanor," Rosalee's father said with a well performed bow. His daughter joined him in the gesture, waiting to be gestured to rise to height. "Anything you need that we can provide, which I must admit is not much more than what you have already seen, if yours, my lady. My name is Charles. You know my daughter, Rosalee. I have two sons, Michael and Jordan. They are away to the Capital buying supplies and should be back midday."

"We need continued and safe shelter, Charles," Eleanor told him with a smile. "The Captain of my guard, Henry--"

She gestured toward the named man and continued without hesitation, "--believes that your inn is the best place for us to remain for a while. A day. Perhaps more."

Charles bowed again, telling Eleanor, "My tavern is yours for as long as you need, my Lady."

"Thank you, Charles, you are a good man, and you will be repaid for your goodness and kindness."

Helen couldn't help but smile a bit in delight. It had been a long time since she'd seen the young Royal act as she was now. The long trek had been hard and sometimes cruel, and Helen had feared that the girl had been broken beyond repair.

"I fear that we can not pay you for your kindness, though, Charles," Eleanor confessed.

"I would not take your coin, my lady," the inn keeper said with yet another bow.

"Thank you, Charles, you will be rewarded for your kindness," the former Princess said. She looked to Henry and asked, "Captain, what next?"

There was a quick but fruitful discussion that resulted in all of those currently awake jumping into action. Henry and Connor went to the back of the inn and helped Trevor dispose of the bodies. Charles had suggested that they be put in the back of his cart rather than tossed into the lake. "We can take them to the woods for burial."

Helen and Charmaine set to cleaning up the bloody mess in the adjacent room. Some of the blood had dripped through the floor as suspected. It, too, was cleaned up.

Eleanor remained with the youngsters, actually curling up with one of them that had awoken. She had faded away to a badly needed sleep when the others finished their tasks and returned to the room.

Before sunrise, Henry rode off for Kendall's camp. He was going to spend a day or two quietly recruiting more men to the cause. Trevor would join him a day from now with a story that he, Kendall, and the other man had been set upon by Prince Theron's troops. Trevor would claim to be the only one who hadn't been captured.

As the sun was finally rising, Charles set about shooing the hungover stragglers out of the tavern. Some partook of breakfast, which the now very exhausted Charles and Rosalee served with few frills.

Once the last man was gone, Charles made the ultimate sacrifice for his meager but steady income. He posted a sign out front of the tavern stating that the inn had been closed by the local Sheriff for a Fever outbreak. The plague had played out in the Kingdom more than a year ago. But it had killed hundreds of people, and most around here still feared it. A simple pair of signs at the road near each end of the establishment would be enough to keep most of the locals and travelers away for a while.

Inside, one and all took to their beds for badly needed rest. All but Helen, that was. She couldn't sleep if she'd wanted. She spent the next four hours alone in the tavern, watching for unwanted visitors. Several locals and nearly as many travelers came into view on the road. Each time, though, they saw one of the two signs and continued onward.

A couple of hours before high noon, Rosalee emerged from her little first floor bedroom. She prepared mugs of a stimulant drink called Black Root, then put some meat in a pan over the fire. She tried to talk an obviously exhausted Helen into going to bed. The older woman only shook her head, telling her, "Soon."

They talked in length about what the group had been through since the fall of the Capital City to Prince Theron. Rosalee was shocked at the tales. After some time she asked, "What will happen now do you think? What I mean is, will Lady Eleanor ever be returned to the throne?"

The chatted further on that topic. Helen couldn't know what might happen in the near or distant future. She only knew that Lady Eleanor had to be protected. She smiled, recalling what had happened over the past day.

"The future is brighter now, Rosalee, now that we have you and your father," Helen said as she reached a hand over to pat that of the younger woman. She continued, "Now that we have Henry and Trevor and their friends."

Helen finally retired to one of the other vacant rooms upstairs. The children were coming back to life in the room they'd all originally shared. Helen would get no sleep there. In truth, she was so tired she could have slept through a battle taking place within a thunderstorm. But Rosalee found her a quiet room with fresh bedding anyway.

One by one, the members of the group rose, dressed, and came downstairs. They ate and talked about the past hours and the future days. Charmaine took charge as she often did when Helen was busy with other things. She put all of the children to work, helping Rosalee with chores.

One good thing had come out the past six months: each of Eleanor's entourage members had learned to pull their weight, even the little ones. The children often foraged for berries or nuts under adult supervision. Or they prepared beds with grasses or tree boughs. Today, they helped Rosalee in the kitchen, with the word help being a questionable description at times.

Late in the afternoon, Helen awoke and joined the others. She'd planned on stressing to each of them that they needed to pay their way here by working for the proprietor. Image her surprise when she found they had spent most of the morning and afternoon doing just that.

"Where is Lady Eleanor?" she asked Charmaine after having already found and greeted all the others. The answer made her smile. Helen went to the kitchen and found the Royal in an apron with flour covering her hands, arms, and even her face in spots. Helen laughed, asking, "What are you making, my lady?"

"A mess," Eleanor said, laughing as well. "It's going to bread, I think."

Rosalee passed through the kitchen from one entrance to the other. She said with encouragement, "My Lady is doing very well. And it's pie crust."

Many minutes passed, during which Helen noticed a pattern in the movements of some of the young adults. She asked Eleanor quietly, "Is it my imagination? Or is Connor following Rosalee like a puppy following his mistress with a pocket full of treats?"



Helen wasn't wrong at all. The lone male of their group had earlier offered to help the inn keeper's daughter with one task. That one task had turned into another, which had turned into yet another. Rosalee appreciated the assistance. More than that, though, she appreciated the attention.

Growing up the younger sister to two manly boys, Rosalee had always been protected by her brothers. But then she reached womanhood and began developing her very well rounded figure. She began to attract attention she hadn't as a girl. And that attention generally came from older men who were fantasizing spending time between her parted thighs.

Rosalee still had her father and brothers to watch over her, of course. But her siblings were present at the tavern far less than in past years. They'd become teamsters, which took them away for days at a time.

And Rosalee's service on the tavern floor had exposed her to an increasing amount of time around men, both locals and travelers. She suffered more than any woman's share of groping and lewd suggestions. Often, coin was pressed into her palm with explicit demands for how she could keep it.

The hard times were only getting harder, and the value of the coins being offered her were increasing. Rosalee had taken a liking to a local man who ate at the tavern quite often. He'd begun consistently giving her larger tips that was seen from other patrons.

Rosalee had begun flirting with him a bit, and the inevitable happened. The man asked Rosalee to take a walk with him to the lake's shore. A kiss turned into an embrace, which turned into groping, which turned into the pulling upward of Rosalee's dress and the insertion of the man's cock into her virgin pussy.

Rosalee cried through all of it, of course. The man hadn't cared as he'd felt he'd paid for this with an accumulation of copper coins. It should have ended here but it didn't. The man continued his patronage of the tavern. And he continued his over-tipping of the beautiful young tavern wench. And, threatening to expose Rosalee's sinfulness to her father, he continued to fuck her once a week or so down on the lake's bank. He'd been relatively polite and gentlemanly in the beginning. But as time went on, he'd become more demanding and hard and brutal. Sometimes he'd left Rosalee with bruises, on her buttocks, her thighs, her arms.

Then, he simply stopped coming to the Dead Raven. Rosalee couldn't know what happened to the man. Perhaps he'd been killed. Perhaps he'd simply tired of her. She didn't care. She only cared that she didn't have to endure him any more. Ironically, Rosalee did miss the actual intercourse, less the violence. She'd actually come to enjoy it and one a couple of occasions had orgasmed.

Having the rather shy and very polite Connor following her around was a joy for Rosalee. It made her happy to have the attention of the young man. Truth was, she was as attracted to him and she believed he was to her. Oh, he might have simply been helping her out of kindness, with no thoughts of anything personal.

But Rosalee caught Connor ogling her plentiful bosom on several occasions. A few times he'd offered to take heavy things from her hands and carry them for her. And most of those times, it seemed to her that their hands touched a bit more than was necessary.

After Helen agreed to take over supervision of Eleanor in the kitchen, Rosalee excused herself for some personal time. As she passed by Connor, she whispered "Will you help me with something?"

He went with her, of course. They hauled buckets of hot water from a pair of kettles on the first floor to fill the barrel tub in her own room. Then they refilled the kettles with fresh water from the well. Rosalee tried to keep Connor's mind busy with more questions about his life before and after Eleanor.

Then, on a last trip into her room, Rosalee closed the door with Connor on the bedroom side of it. She pulled at a bowed string in the middle of her ample bosom, then pulled her dress off her shoulders. It fell away, leaving her in only her shift and skirt.

"Would you like to share my bath with me, Connor?" Rosalee asked in barely more than a whisper. She walked to him, pressing her mouth to his in a long soft kiss. She backed away only slightly, telling him, "Would you like me to help you take your clothes off?"

 

[TiredFingers]

Charles had been shocked at the revelation that the heir to the Crown of Holloway Green was sleeping in his inn. Subsequently, he was furious that men for whom he'd provided food, drink, and lodging had had the intent of capturing Lady Eleanor and turning her over to that retched Prince Theron.

He was so relieved when he learned Henry had instead sworn his loyalty and service to the Royal. Standing before Eleanor was a great honor, and he, too, bowed to the young woman and pledges his and his family's service. "My tavern is yours for as long as you need, my Lady."

"Thank you, Charles, you are a good man," Eleanor told him, "and you will be repaid for your goodness and kindness."

He wondered how much silver and gold would be filling his coin box for his service. When he learned there wouldn't be any up front, he was initially disappointed. But that regret faded quickly. He would eat the losses gladly. Presuming the usurper didn't kill them all and prevent Lady Eleanor's rise to the throne, there would be plenty of coin coming his way down the road. For now, his pledge to her wasn't about money, it was about doing the right thing.



Henry slowed his horse near a turn in the river, threw one leg over the saddle, and leaped off into the water. He sank under the surface, contacting the muddy bottom, where he dug his hands into the thick goo and lifted it to smear his clothes. Pushing upwards, he broke the surface and exhaled in a rush, laughing afterward. He turned and half swam, half walked back to and up the bank, shook off some of the residual water, and walked to the nearest tree. He carefully smacked his cheek against the trunk, repeated the gesture with his forehead, then tightened the muscles of his torso and punched his belly and chest several times. Then he mounted his horse and once again rode forward for another three hours, long enough for the bruises and cuts to appear as if suffered hours earlier, as they had been.

"Stop!" a voice from within the trees hollered. "Announce yourself!"

Henry continued forward without response, now leaning over the front of his saddle as if about to fall off to the ground. The warning came his way again, but before the sentry could even contemplate putting an arrow into the stranger's body, he recognized the rider. A few minutes later, Henry was being stripped from his wet, muddied clothes and laid out in a lean-to next to a fire that was stoked and fed to better warm him. He only murmured to the questions being put to him, letting the others in Kendall's band of outlaws manipulate his body around until he was stripped down, wrapped in a blanket, and drying before the now tall flames.

He would feign sleep initially, but in the end he would actually fall to sleep; he hadn't slept for almost 30 hours after all. He would show signs of consciousness every so often, to be given water or a piece of meat or potato to cure his hunger, but other than that he stuck to the story he'd told that he'd been attacked on the trail and only escaped death by leaping into the river.

It wasn't until almost dark, when two men he knew he could trust were the only ears within hearing distance, that he revealed his plans. Kendall had been planning the robbery of a tax collector on his rounds tomorrow, and Henry had wanted an excuse not to participate, thus the faked attack. Henry told the two men that their former leader was dead and not returning, but that Henry himself had a new mission for them. They asked for specifics, but he told them it was better not to divulge the details until after they had gone their separate way from the others. Two other men eagerly accepted Henry's invitation to something new, particularly when he told them it would gain them honor and coin in the end.



Connor knew that he was helping Rosalee prepare her bath, and he found himself getting stiff below his belt line at the imagining of her naked and slipping into the hot water. But he had no idea at all that once the tub was ready for her, that she was going to turn to him and suggest, "Would you like to share my bath with me, Connor?"

His eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open as she shed her dress, walked up to him, and kissed him on the mouth. He'd never been kissed like Rosalee kissed him now; this wasn't a flirty kiss on the cheek or even on the lips like he'd gotten from the girls in his village who did such so that he would give them his apple or carry something through the village for them. This was a long, soft, romantic kiss that made Connor tremble inside … and grow to a hardness that he doubted he'd ever enjoyed before.

She asked him, "Would you like me to help you take your clothes off?"

Henry didn't know what to say; he only stared at her in shock, his gaze shifting from her big brown eyes to her big, dark skinned tits. In the end, he didn't need to answer as Rosalee began unfastening his belt, then his trouser string. She sat him on a chair, removed his boots, his pants, and then his shirt. Soon, Connor stood before Rosalee in the same thing she stood before him in: underwear.

 

[Alice2015]

(We are taking a break from this role play to work on another one. This could be a short term disruption or longer one, we don't yet know.)