solstice_castle1-3^14

Archive-name: solstice_castle1-3^14

Subject: REPOST: Solstice Castle 1/14

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

SOLSTICE CASTLE AT SPEYSARD ___________________________
Of course, if I had tried to gain entry into the Princess' suite while she was at the Palace at the capital, the King's Guard would have slice me in half like one of the melons that Jenar serves to the monks. But, with the royal family on its annual visit to enjoy the cool air and the Solstice Festival here in Speysard, anything was possible.
The day began routinely. I rose early in my small cell in the back of the monastery, dressed in loose tunic and pants, and dashed to the kitchen to help fat old Jenar prepare the monks' breakfast. I quickly sliced the fruit and pulled the loaves from the old brick oven.
Jenar excused me from clean-up duties, knowing that Beseer had requested my help at the docks when the royal barge emerged from the river mouth and sidled up to the pier. Beseer's usual mead- sodden old helpers could handle the normal river traffic, but he appreciated both my youthful athleticism, when twenty or thirty mooring lines simultanously were being flung from the barge, and my cleverness with things mechanical, in the event a winch froze or a pulley broke. Being an orphan, I was not pledged to any one guild, and thus had developed skills from the dozens of tradesmen and craftsment whom I had helped during my seventeen years.
The crowd at the docks cheered as the huge dark barge with its gaily colored flags and flapping sails came into view around the point. As long as thirty grown men laid end-to-end, the barge was the technological marvel of all of Vorlan. Its huge deck held the green and white canopy in which the royal party itself was relaxing at the end of its two day journey.
My eyes swept the deck, for the King was known to bring dozens of yound maidens down for the festival, ostensibly as servants or companions for his daughters. Nonetheless, rumors abounded of the more salacious roles the slender nymphs played in the exclusive parties held at the Solstice Castle during the Festival's warm evenings.
"Jaze, you three-balled young whelp, get your skinny ass up to the main pier and catch those lines," came a gravelly voice behind me. I turned and grinned good-naturedly at Beseer's sun- wrinkled face. Along with two identical young boys - Beseer's twin grandsons - I stripped off my blouse and scampered to the edge of the longest pier just as the barge lumbered up, its twelve-foot high sides slamming into the dock's slats. Eight of the portly dock workers lined up several yards back of us. Heavy hemp ropes flew from the boat to be caught by the dockhands. When lines overlapped, as inevitably occurred, the twins and I shinnied up the lines and freed them, tossing them to the appropriate dockhand to secure.
With all lines down, I pulled myself hand-over-hand from rope to rope up to midship, where in a fit of energy I swung myself in two windmill-like revolutions and released from the rope, landing feet first on the dock with a graceful pirouette. Whistles broke out from both dockside and barge at my maneuver. Beseer cuffed me and pushed me toward the winch, where Beseer's brother-in-law Creen was starting to jockey the loading ramp into place. Since I had no immediate duties unless a mechanical problem developed, I could watch the royal party leave the elegant vessel not ten paces away.
Creen smoothly dropped the ramp in place, and the party started down the ramp to the waiting carriages, where the horses, hearing the crowd's din, pawed nervously. After the guards in their bright silk outfits and long sabers emerged, the tall, dark-browed King Abret and his consort, Queen Serjeena, stepped out of the canopy and, along with their retinue of elite Palace guards, paced down the plank, to the cheers of the crowd. I had seen them in their deeply-hued robes from a distance at prior Festivals, but now was dumbstruck at the sight of the Queen. In the heat, she had allowed her veil to slip and I saw her piercing dark eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and ivory smooth skin. I had heard that she was only sixteen when her father, the Prince of Fanjoer, had matched her with Abret in the year of my birth as part of a political alliance, but she did not know look to be thirty-three; she could have passed for a student at the Abbey academy. She turned and spoke briefly with a lumpish-looking young man, obviously the Crown Prince, Phenshraw.
Behind the royal couple and their son emerged a gaggle of young women, only a few in veils, and each wearing light, saffron robes. All were astonishingly beautiful, and my throat became dry. At the head of the pack was a tall, golden-haired vision, and I was entranced at the way her full breasts swayed under her gown. I knew her to be Lorena, the lady-in-waiting to Princess Paleem, the King's only daughter. Again, I had only seen Lorena from a distance, and never had imagined that she was such a beauty. Her walk reminded me of a mountain lynx, proud but alert.
The group of maidens was delayed as the King's party entered its carriages, and Lorena's eyes casually swept the dock. Her blue-eyed gaze alighted on me and stopped, scanning up and down my frame. She smiled slightly, and one eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly, then the tip of her pink tongue peeked out from between her perfect red lips. My face froze in surprise, my eyes growing. I felt the blood rush from my head and swell my manhood. Lorena noticed the effect she had on me and her smile widened almost to a leer. The tip of her tongue slid to the corner of her closed lips.
Before I could react, the carriages for the assembly of girls moved in front of them, and Lorena's eyes moved away. For the first time I noticed a small figure in the midst of the throng, heavily veiled in a brilliant blue robe. My heart leapt; this must be Princess Paleem herself, who reputedly had been seen unveiled by no man save her family and the priests who tutored her. I could see only her hazel eyes, fastened on Lorena, and a wisp of deep red hair peeking from beneath her hood. Paleem's head turned to follow that which had fascinated Lorena, and her gaze found me. She stared at me curiously, unabashedly. Again I found myself paralyzed. Paleem failed to notice the group move, and suddenly stumbled forward as the servant behind her jostled her.
In a trice, the girls were in their carriages, and I was left with a suddenly flushed face and a sore shoulder, where Creen had punched me to draw my attention. "Aye, lad, if you stand there drawing dung flies in your open maw I'll take the top of your crown off when I bring the ramp around." I skittered out of the way, and helped Creen bring the ramp down off the barge.
With my duties finished, I retrieved my blouse and went into town to the market square, to help Madame Blaven set up her wooden framed booth to display her handmade pots. The square was bustling with pilgrims and tourists, who had come to Speysard for the festival. The craftspeople and food vendors had worked strenuously for weeks to build up their stocks, and booths were overflowing with garments, pots and utensils, jewelry, tapestries, and spices and dried fruits and meats. I walked through the market, cadging a morsel of vra fruit from a seller whose framework I re-tied, and a burnt loaf of dark rega bread from old Bekdray the baker, whose oven I often had patched.
"He looks rather tall for a monkey, don't you think you think, Rebca?" The soft voice behind me was unknown to me, and I turned only because I thought the comment an odd one. I found myself facing none other than Lorena herself, accompanied by smaller, slender young dark-haired beauty in simpler robes. A castle guard stood in the background, just out of earshot, fingering a ripe melon and trying to cajole its owner into passing it over as a courtesy to the King. I could find no words. "And, he doesn't talk; maybe he only chatters like a monkey, too."
My face flushed in embarassment and ire. "I am no monkey," I croaked. Her contemptuous grin annoyed me notwithstanding her beauty. A riposte came to mind. I could not resist. "Are you perhaps missing a family member?"
Lorena's companion - obviously Rebca - put her hand to her mouth in a stifled giggle. It was Lorena's turn to flush. She recovered nicely, though. "Well, he does look like one of the gypsies who appear in the traveling shows one sees at the Palace, spinning around a rope or leaping from one swinging bar to another. Are you perhaps a gypsy from the Rhona lands, imp Jaze?" I started.
"Oh yes," she continued, "your little flying stunt caught the attention of Bishop Paddon, who boasted to us that you were a multi-gifted product of his Order's monastery here in Speysard. He said that Jaze could best any man in Speysard in the grappling ring, could fix any device the Guilds make, and yet recite his devotions as well as any priest." My eyes fell to my feet. Lorena stepped as close to me as propriety would permit and drew my eyes to her azure stare by the strength of its intensity. She smiled, "Perhaps we shall have need of one of your gifts, Jaze. Would you come if young Rebca brought you my message?"
"You mock me by your teasing, Milady. You have no call for one such as me and I have no pass for entry into the castle."
Lorena's guard headed towards us, his ruffy face scowling. A commoner as I had no business conversing with women of such standing. "Perhaps, perhaps not," Lorena muttered drily, as she slipped away with Rebca, the guard following in her wake.
I returned to the monastery with my head swimming. Never had I conversed with a woman such as Lorena. While she was no more than one or two years my senior, her regal bearing and overpowering beauty marked her in my eyes as woman to match any. I stumbled my way through the evening meal, almost spilling Brother Adelbert's soup in his lap.
I retired to my cell early, to read by candlelight a tract left at the monastery by the Bishop. Before I could commence, I heard scratching at my door. I opened it to find one of Beseer's grandsons standing erect, his fist clutched to his chest. "Jaze," he cried breathlessly, "a girl gave me a whole silver tren" - which he opened his fist to display - "to bring you to her." He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. I slipped out of his grip but followed him down the hall and out the small door carved in the stone building's back side. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from earning a tren." I was curious but wary; perhaps a suitor of a young woman I had wooed was setting me up for vengeance. I had been careful and had suffered no such attack before, but had heard of it occurring.
Perhaps forty paces down the path we came upon a small hooded figure, and I sighed in relief. I patted the boy and shooed him away; "You have done well, but pat the tren in a pocket before you lose it."
The figure lowered the hood and in the fading twilight I could just make out the features of Rebca. She handed me a scrap of linen, dubiously as though not expecting me to be able to read it. I snatched it, and read, "Master Jaze, your services indeed are required at Solstice Palace. Please follow Rebca, silently. L". I snorted, "Tell me, Rebca. What joke is your mistress playing upon me? Will I find a legion of the King's finest guards awaiting me somewhere?"
Her dark eyes looked at me beseechingly, and then she shrugged. I realized that she would not or could not speak to me, and that she probably would be punished if she failed in her mission. I could not think of any reason that Lorena would go to the effort to craft a hoax which would lead me to arrest, so I mimicked Rebca's shrug - at which she silently tittered - and followed her along the hillside toward the side of the Solstice Castle.
The enormous castle had been carved over scores of years into the side of the soft grenha stone cliffs. All had heard rumors of many secret passageways behind the castle, and I in my earlied days had myself explored a few, only to be shooed away by the few guards stationed year round at the King's summer palace.
We were met at a side opening by a scruffy, ill-clad young boy of perhaps eight. I recognized him as the only son of fat old Mayva, one of the village's better cooks who the king's own cook hired each summer to assist in finding and preparing the local produce. Without speaking, the boy turned and led us into a side corridors. Moving at almost a trot, he weaved us through a series of passages until we emerged next to what I recognized to be the castle's giant kitchen. I assumed I had been called to tinker with a vent on one of the large brick ovens, but we tarried only so long as necessary to be assured that no one was near, and then he motioned us to follow him up a narrow stairwell.
I was mystified. Why hide if I was there on a legitimate repair request? Then it occurred to me that there would be no reason that the Princess' lady would be beckoning repair men. By this time, however, I could not be assured of tracing my way back outside, and certainly had no excuse to offer when I ran into a guard, as I certainly would do. I tried to whisper a query to Rebca, but she quickly spun her head and, with a severe admonishing glance, silenced me with a slender finger to my lips.
We climbed several flights, and then waited again for the boy to check for guards. He led us down two passages to another stairwell. Without a word, he fled back the way he brought us, leaving Rebca and me to fend for ourselves. We quietly crept up the dark stairwell, and I suddenly was conscious of her fresh young smell and the sibilant rhythm of her gauzy robe brushing over the steps, propelled by her slim thighs.
At the top of the stairwell we waited as servants passed. As casually as I could, I pressed up behind her and lightly placed a hand on her hip, knowing that she could not betray us by reproaching me. Rebca stiffened and placed her hand on my own. Rather than pulling mine away, however, she gave it a quick squeeze and clutched it. She pulled me across the hallway into a large antechamber.
Beyond it was a heavy oak door, which Rebca pushed open, then she pulled me through. We traversed a short hallway, which ended at another door guarded by a heavy, ornate brocade tapestry. Rebca tapped lightly on the jamb. The door was unbolted from the inside and opened by none other than Lorena herself. Lorena quickly yanked at our arms, drawing us into a large chamber, brightly lit by scented yole oil lamps.
A held my arm over my eyes to let them adjust to the light. As they did, I marveled at the astonishing colors of the silk- covered walls and equally bright satin pillows littering the floor. A mammoth bed overwhelmed the far end of the room. Next to it stood a huge basin built in the very floor. I had seen bathing tins before, but it took me a moment to recognize that this basin was nothing other than such a tin, but at least as far across as a man is tall, made of Rhonan marble. On each side of the sunken tub were two large lamps resting on frames, and behind it was a portal of some sort, covered by a gauzy screen.
I turned to Lorena and realized that she was not dressed in the traveling robes in which I had seen here. She was in a stark white robe made of a thin, clinging fabric. I did not realize how thin it was until she moved with a smile targeted at me, purposefully stopping in front of a floor lamp and casually turning in place. Her voluptuous form was silhouetted by the light; it was almost as though she were as bare as a newborn! I could make out every one of her magnificent curves. As she stopped briefly to face to my right, I could even make out the shape and size of the nipple distended from an abundant breast.
"Milady?" I stammered. "Was there some repair or...?" God, I felt like a perfect ass. There was no repair in this wench's mind this eve.
Her mocking laugh burned my cheeks for the second time this day. "Repair? Why yes, I believe there is some task for you tonight. Perhaps you can hammer in a dowel, for me... unless you forgot to bring your hammer with you." She strode up to me, staring into my eyes with a nearly contemptuous grin. "You did bring a hammer, didn't you, my gypsy boy?" A stray blonde lock fell over her face, and she girlishly caught it between her teeth. I remained speechless, my wits traveling somewhere below my blouse.
Lorena turned to the raven-tressed Rebca and asked innocently. "My dear friend, out visitor doesn't know if he brought his tool. We must help him search." When Rebca hesitated in confusion, Lorena grabbed the shorter girl by her shoulders and swung her toward me. Lorena stepped behind Rebca and pulled the hooded robe off her shoulders, throwing it in the corner. Rebca, now clad in a shorter version of Lorena's gossamer robe, whirled to the blonde, but Lorena firmly planted her hands on Rebca's shoulders and turned her back to me.
Lorena planted herself directly up against Rebca's back, and reached around to grasp the yound girl's small hands. "Now Rebca, let's see if his tools are under his fine blouse." She guided the slender fingers to my waist and up under the shirt. The soft palms were guided to my slim waist, then gently up my stomach to my broad, lightly furred chest. Rebca stared at my chest, as though watching a contest of a pair of two-handed creatures fighting beneath the soft cloth. She allowed Lorena's larger hands to move hers over the hair on my chest, her mouth slightly agape.
Lorena sighed in mock impatience. "Oh, this is so inefficient." She suddenly jerked the joined hands to my shoulders. Unthinking, I raised my arms, and the two pulled the material over my head and off me, casting it in the corner with Rebca's traveling robe.
Now it was Lorena's turn to be mesmerized. I take great pride at the breadth and muscularity of my chest and shoulders from the lifting I do and the grappling training that I receive from Mard Hegran, a former King's guard himself. Again absently biting a golden curl, she reached over Rebca and stroked my chest. She clutched my upper arm and turned me slightly, as though to get a better angle of the lamps' rays.
Lorena released me, and placed her hands on Rebca's shoulders. "I do not see any tool there. Could it be hidden elsewhere on his person? Yes, that's it. Rebca, you must complete the search." Quickly, she pushed the girl to her knees before me, her ebony tresses falling forward to brush my calves. "See if there is an adz or awl strapped near his ankles, my sweet Rebca," Lorena continued. With that instruction, Rebca darted her hands under my cuffs and up slowly to my knees. Leaving her slightly damp palms pressed to the sides of my legs, the young girl looked over her shoulder with a look that I could only describe as devilish and shook her head.
As though absorbed by this troublesome puzzle, Lorena worked at the clasp holding the front of her robe together. Suddenly, the twin halves parted, opening the robe perhaps a handsbreadth all the way below her heavy breasts to her navel. My re-awakened organ again began to engorge. Pretending not to notice the exposing of the inside swell of her alabaster breasts, the blonde leaned over Rebca's head, baring each tit almost to the nipple.
"Yes, Rebca, I believe you're getting close," she uttered in a husky tone. She then straightened and stared at me. Her hands rose to straddle her long, smooth neck, and then slid together down past the hollow of her throat. The fingers arched in their descent, and then lightly rested at the peak of her hilly mounds, the edges held in the tips of her fingers. She slowly pulled the material apart, baring more of her flesh in agonizingly small paces.
In the meantime, Rebca's hands had traveled to the backs of my thighs, creeping up to cup the join of my ass and upper leg. My aching prick expanded to nearly full dimensions down my upper leg, just inches from the porcelain beauty features of the servant girl.
With an impatient jerk, Lorena swept open the top of her gown, exposing in full her high, lusciously round breasts. Never had I seen mounds that even approached her heavenly hills in perfection. Capping each was a pale pink circle, topped by broad, red-hued nipples, now almost angry in their arousal. Seeing my mouth drop in astonishment, Lorena grinned in triumph and stroked the fiery tips with the ends of her smooth fingers.
Rebca's hands suddenly descended my thighs and withdrew altogether. She again looked up at her mistress, then meaningfully jerked her head toward my crotch. Lorena clasped her mouth in glee. "Why I believe we've found just the tool. But can you be sure it is the right size? I believe 'caliber' is the artillerymen's term." The blonde lady-in-waiting dropped to her knees behind Rebca. "Oh do check, won't you?"
The dark-tressed lovely brought her unsteady hands up to the hasp of my belt. As she did, I dumbfoundedly noted that Lorena's hands were snaking around the girl, and gently kneading the youngster's small breasts through the satin covering. Determinedly, Rebca unloosed my belt and pulled at the buttons down the front, randomly brushing the side of her hand against my fully tumescent sword. Suddenly, the loose trousers fell, baring my ass in the back. They surely would have dropped to my ankles but for being engaged on my pride and joy, which now was jutting straight out.
Rebca's hands dropped away, and she stared at the cloth covered pole as though uncertain what her next task would be. She barely noticed as Lorena drew the straps of her gown over her shoulders and down her sides, pulling her willowy arms through. The small, pear shaped breasts impetuouse poked out, the pale nipples as hard as Lorena's. Lorena whispered in Rebca's ear, and then she glanced over to the gauze-blocke vestibule. Rebca nodded, and grasped my pants at the sides, near the front, and slowly worked them down - past the tip of my cock - and down to the floor. The rod bobbed in front of them, and I could have sworn I heard a sharp drawing of breath elsewhere in the room. The two maids' faces momentarily were frozen; Lorena's in the open-mouthed smile of a child who has just discovered cocoa-based candy, and Rebca's in an indescipherable, mesmerized stare.
I have had but a few lovers, but those in a position to know - such as my renowned flute instructor Mademoiselle Jeara and Countess Fedragon (more of whom I will relate later) - tell me that the length and breadth of my jewel is rarely matched by even the largest of grown men. It must be true, for I fairly can say that the two young women on their knees before me were suffering from the sort of astonishment one normally would associate with a great surprise.
Lorena pushed her face forward, gently biting the back of Rebca's shoulder, but her eyes never left my loins. Rebca as though jolted brought a hand to my groin, resting it next to the base of my member. She raised her ass slightly as Lorena pushed her robe over her hips, and then her knees and, finally her feet, as Lorena fully disrobed her. Lorena's right hand slid over the swell of Rebca's hip and then dove forward and down, obviously exploring in the dark down of the younger girl's loins.
Lorena must have reached the servant's sex, for Rebca's jet eyes snapped shut. Her fingers tried to curl around the base of my manhood. Failing in that, Rebca brought her left hand up to the other side, and slowly started pulling on the loose skin of my cock, her hips lightly swaying to the pleasant torture of Lorena's fingers.
Rebca's eyes again opened and focussed on the pole before her. Her fingers tightened around me, and her strokes increased in length. I could feel her quick, warm breaths on the tip of my phallus and the small drop of my fluid that she had harvested.
Lorena's free hand went to the back of Rebca's neck, and slowly pushed it forward. The girl's barely parted red lips collided softly with my red-capped tip, resting there without moving. I felt the young maid's tongue tip lightly probe at the small slit at the end, dipping at the milky substnace. Opening her mouth further, the young girl lapped lightly, pulling her tongue back into her mouth to savor my essence, and then emerging again.
Rebca required no further prodding. Hungrily, her mouth captured more of the cap, dragging her sweet lips back to the tip in a steady motion. Soon, she was capturing the full cap and drawing part of my broad shaft into her warm, wet maw.
Lorena continued her right hand's prodding of Rebca's young pussy, but now had moved her left down the front of her own robe, and was stroking herself out of my vision.
I reached down and, as tenderly as I could manage in my aroused state, cupped the raven lovely's cheeks in my hand. She lovingly peered up into my eyes, and then without warning threw her hed forward, impaling her mouth on almost two-thirds of my sturdy lance with an audible sound. She lightly shook her head from side-to-side, commanding me to hold her face tighter in my hands. Honoring her request, I moved my hands almost back to her ears, and then firmly pulled her lips down my cock. She groaned in pleasure and nodded. I repeated the motion more urgently, pulling her lips almost to the base of my heated shaft, and felt the tip enter her throat.
I expected her protest, but encountered even more passion, as her hips bucked out of control under Lorena's touch. I repeated my joining of her mouth and my sword, and, in my passion, I fear I was not gentle. Still, she flung her mouth forward, and cupped both hands behind my thighs. My hips jerked to meet her slavering maw, as each stroke brought the angry tip of my cock from just outside her flecked, parted lips to the depths of her throat. We continued our dance, with Rebca taking me in deeply, her tongu flashing, again and again, deeper than seemed possible. Her firm breasts swayed forward and back as her hips rose off the backs of her feet and then descended, her flowing pussy clutching at Lorena's fingers.
"Rebca, you sorceress," I cried in my passion, "I cannot hold back!"
In a breathy pant, Lorena insisted, "Not there.... You must... We must be able to... I want to be able to see you spend."
My first blast shot into the slender servant's mouth just as the tip was emerging, and a stream trickled out to the side of her mouth and down her chin. Her hands left my thighs to wrap around the stalk, her open-mouthed face just clear of the tip. The next stream struck her upper lip and cheek, dripping down onto her tongue. The next two shots hit her extended tongue, striking it as though with a whip. She continued to stroke me, and two more strings coated each cheek, with drops reaching her ebony hair. As my emissions began to subside, her lips again captured the tip and her eyes shut tightly, followed by a quiet shriek. I realized she too was achieving her ultimate pleasure, as was the jerking Lorena behind her.
Our passions slowly waned. Rebca continued to milk me with her lips, her cum-spattered cheeks hollowed with suction. As she pulled off, Lorena clutched the girl's head and turned it toward the curtained door. The blonde then extended her tongue to clean the seed from the maid's marble-smooth skin, loudly savoring each spattered drop.
Suddenly, Lorena leapt to her feet, causing her robe to finally descend her thighs and drop to the floor. She pulled Rebca up with her, and, to my astonishment, drew her past the tub and lamps and throught the gauze screen and into the dark chamber behind it. I heard giggles just beyond the screen.
I knew not what was occurring. Having been sexually attacked by two of the princess' companions was startling enough. Why had they suddenly abandoned me? Was I to feel insulted?
Just as I had engaged the resolve to follow them through the curtain, Lorena emerged from it. Still, I heard giggling beyond it, leaving the mystery no more solved....

[End of Part I] *Trane*

Path: bull.hkstar.net!imci3!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.zeitgeist.net!news1.slip.net!news From: Trane@TeamHbbs.com Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Solstice Castle 2/14 Date: Mon, 12 Aug 1996 18:35:56 GMT Organization: Slip.Net Lines: 224 Message-ID: <4untei$luo@kiwi.slip.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: sf-pm6-16-80.dialup.slip.net X-Newsreader: Forte Free Agent 1.0.82

(Part II)

(Where teenage orphan Jaze finds himself in the chambers of Prince Paleem's blonde lady-in-waiting Lorena, having just spent in the mouth of Lorena's maidservant Rebca, after which both beauties disappeared behind a gauze screen in the corner of the chamber.)

Just as I had engaged the resolve to follow them through the curtain, Lorena emerged from it. Still, I heard giggling beyond it, leaving the mystery no more solved.... [End of Part I]

The tall blonde could not resist a grin as she strode toward me, her high, round breasts swaying slightly. "You have pleased us all, Jaze. Perhaps on your next visit I will deign to let you dip your magnificent sword..." - at that her eyes dropped to my spit-soaked, re-awakening cock - "into my own pot of treasures." She continued huskily, "Yes, I would like that." My rod lurched at the prospect of a return to this magnificent summer palace and the soft flesh of these two young beauties.

Sensing dismissal, my eyes cast around for my tunic and trousers, but she stopped me by sliding her hand up my chest to the back of my neck. "Oh, no; you're not done yet. Not a young, virile man like you." She leaned toward me, and I grasped a perfect, bare ass cheek and pulled her to me. Her heavy tits pressed against my muscled check, and her mouth leapt to mind. Her full lips opened wide, allowing her tongue to dive into my mouth and parry with my own. My thick staff immediately rose to almost full rigor, sliding between her alabaster thighs, to press up against the wet, puffy lips of that very cavern of joy that she promised I might soon visit. She lightly rose on her toes and descended, so that the thick shaft might rub against her swollen clit, the tip of my phallus peeking out between the taut moons of her ass.

My free hand reached up and tweaked Lorena's nipple; she moaned passionately into my hungry mouth. Suddenly, I felt an unexpained wetness engulf the end of my phallus. My lips slipped from Lorena's and I looked over her shoulder and down her long, slim back. Slender, youthful Rebca had returned from behind the curtain and again was on her knees, softly mouthing my pink helmeted tip she had devoured only moments before. Sliding her tender lips away, she tongued down my shaft and began laving Lorena's exposed cheeks in langorous circles. Rebca looked up at me with with a wanton smile, tinged with an pure innocent joy. With her eyes still linked with mine, the raven-haired maidservant brought her thumbs to the insides of Lorena's buttocks, and pulled them apart. Her faced dipped forward, forcing the young girl's lips up against the older blonde's brown rear entrance. Lorena stiffened as if struck by lightning; "Yes, you little wench. Suuuck my assss!!" Lorena stiffened; "Yes, you little wench. Suuuck my assss!!"
Rebca noisily continued the pleasuring of her lady's ass, while fondling and stroking my fully erect cock. Just as it seemed that Lorena might try to force the rod into her own sopping hole, she pushed away from me, momentarily forcing Rebca's tongue even further into her ass. The blonde reached down and pulled Rebca to her feet by the nymph's long, dark tresses. The two women kissed briefly, but hungrily, Lorena tasting the traces of her own nether passage on Rebca's tongue. Lorena then clutched Rebca's hand and pulled her to the huge bed and its gloriously colored silk sheets and blankets.
Her golden hair streaming around her, Lorena flung herself back onto the bed, her shoulders and head resting against the ornately carved headboard. Splaying her knees wide, she pulled Rebca onto her heaving form, and moaned aloud as the girl clamped her lips onto the blonde's erect right nipple and started sucking vigorously. Lorena placed both hands on the girl's dark hair, and pushed her down toward the end of the bed. Rebca's red lips trailed down her stomach as her slim form rose back onto her knees, her lean ass jutting into the air. The sight of their wanton, lesbian lust and Rebca's youthful buttocks almost caused me to spend again.

Lorena moaned as Rebca's tongue began swirling around her engorged clit, and her fingers clenched at the the silk comforter. Lorena looked over at me through slitted eyes, almost laughing at my frustration, evidenced by my prominent hard manhood. Lorena looked down at the younger girl burrowing at her loins and whispered, "Rebca, darling, do you want Jaze's huge cock in you? Bigger than any you've ever tried? Maybe he'll split you in two; can you think of a better way to go than with your pussy filled to the breaking point?"

Rebca responded by involuntarily diving her head and ravenous lips even further into Lorena's cunt, forcing her ass even higher - flaring her rosebud- like pussy lips toward me. Lorena nodded at me.

I kneeled on the bed behind the maidservant's raised ass and placed the engorged head of my manhood against her wet, dark-fringed young labia. The tip slipped inside, and I heard Rebca's audible gasp, muffled by Lorena's firm thighs. I retreated slightly and pressed forward once more. Despite the girl's swampy wetness, I could only enter a third of the way into her joyous velvet vice. After two more tentative stabs, I drew back and pushed forward - to the hilt. Rebca's moan increased to a high-pitched keening, and in her passion she must have sucked too hard on Lorena's primed pussy, for the blonde's eyes shot open. Lorena's hips then rose from the luxurious sheets, jerking and circling. She cried though gritted teeth, "God, yes! The little slut has never sucked like this. Keep fucking her. Fuck her harder!"

In my own passion, I did not stop to contemplate the inappropriateness of such language from a princess' lady-in-waiting, but rather did as she commanded, stroking my meaty pole into the sparsely-trimmed pussy from behind, my hips smacking again and again into her buttocks. Moments later, Lorena wailed out her completion, her hips churning and her ass still free of the sheets. As Lorena's passion flooded her mouth, Rebca joined her, the spasms of her orgasm squeezing my nearly bursting rod. As I shouted that I too was about to cum, Lorena shouted, "Yes - let me see it again!"
Lorena scissored her legs around Rebca's head and dove toward the foot of the bed, resting her cheek in the small of Rebca's back. She pushed at my hips, disengaging me from the girl, and grasped my surging cock with long strong fingers. Three strokes sent me over the edge, and my passion spilled in a long stream into the cleft of Rebca's tight ass. A second eruption shot onto Rebca's heaving back, and splashed against Lorena's pursed lips. She flinched, then smiled, her tongue capturing the seed I had deposited on her mouth. Her stroking continued as my explosion began to wane, my cum pooling on Rebca's back.
Lorena frowned as though repelled by the gooey mess clinging to her lips, but I could see her tongue quickly unfurl and retrieve the stray streams clinging to her pink cheeks. She then dropped to her back next to Rebca's still form, her lightly-furred, reddened pussy lips still wet and swollen from the younger maid's oral ministrations. Slowly, Lorena rose to her feet and padded off toward the screened off anteroom, explaining with a giggle, "I've got to return some .... thing to its rightful place, if I it's able to even move."
As she left, I turned to Rebca for some sort of explanation,but her face was covered with her long ebony hair, and her prone form was still. I sat up to leave, but her sleepy arm reach back and cupped my hip, pressing it up against her slim buttocks, which she wiggled back against my slimy, slumbering cock.
"No, my little vixen, Jaze has nothing more for you now. Well, at least not for a few minutes." She raised one leg slightly and, reaching down between her luscious thighs, contented herself with pulling my sleepy organ up to the entrance to her pussy and lightly rubbing the tip against her clit. My hand cupped her tender young breast, kneading it gently.

I had almost drifted off to sleep when I heard a shouted "No!" just outside the heavy chamber door that I had earlier entered. It was a man's voice, middle-aged; fear mixed with surprise. Rebca and I leapt up and ran down the short hallway to the door. She pushed my chest to motion me to stay out of sight, and then pulled back the iron bar and slid the door back a few inches. Over the girl's shoulder I could see a grey-bearded man in a dark tunic: old Lermin, the King's prime minister. Lermin was struggling with a figure in a green, hooded cloak, his antagonist's face hidden in its deep folds. Each was clutching an end of an ornately carved wooden chest about four handbreadths square, trying to wrest it from the other.

Suddenly, the cloaked-figure relinquished his grip, reached into the wide folds of his sleeve, and pulled out a short, stout oak club. Lermin's skinny forearm came up too late; the club whistled in a short arc and struck him in the temple. The minister dropped to the floor, the box clattering to the tile beside him. The lid sprang open, and several large gemstones and strings of jewels slipped onto the floor. I pushed the door further open, not knowing what instinct of foolhardiness compelled me to think I in my nakedness could challenge a club-laden foe.

The figure bent over to pick up the box. The sounds of heavy feet pounding up the staircase spurred alacrity. Grasping the chest and re-engaging its hasp, the minister's attacker glided to the stairway entrance almost like a green apparition. A young, grey-tunic clad guard rushed up, staff at the ready. His glance took in the sprawled royal official on the ground, then his eyes widened further as he saw Rebca and I peering out of the chamber door, our upper torsos fully exposed. I tried to call out a warning, but the club struck again, and the guard too slumped to the castle floor from a blow to his head. The assailant for the first time turned toward us, but I could make out no features beneath the deep green hood. Without a word, the figure thrust the chest and the club in the folds of the robe and dashed away.
I started to rush out, but Rebca pulled me back. I recognized the folly of starting a chase where I had no business being. She returned to the chamber and quickly donned her own robe, and slid out to the hallway to kneel beside the fallen Lermin. Instinctively ever the tidy maidservant, she pulled the stray gems from the floor and stuffed them in her robe.

At that moment, three guards, led by a huge, steel-armored captain rushed up. Taking in the scene at a glance, the captain grabbed Rebca by her upper arms and pulled her face to his own, his dark scraggly beard almost touching her chin. "Wench! What happened here? What happened to the prime minister and the private?" The young brunette remained frozen in fear, biting her lower lip. He shook her like a straw doll, and the gemstones fell from her robe and clattered loudly on the tile.

The captain's face grew red with anger. "What have we found? A scheme of a common wench to steal royal jewels from the minister? Where are your accomplices, you slut?!" Still, Rebca could say nothing. Suddenly it occurred to me that the beautiful maidservant had not said a word at any time during the day, and perhaps was incapable of doing so. The guard captain obviously had no such knowledge, and he threw her to the floor at the feet of the remaining two guards.

"Take this bitch down to the cells, where we can question her with a bit more persuasion," he ordered. "Beckon the royal physician to minister to these two men. I must report to the King and Queen of this treachery."

I remained stunned, still peering through the slightly ajar door that I had been hiding behind. My new lover was accused of conspiring to steal royal jewels! Moreover, if I was caught, I surely would be prosecuted as one of her accomplices - and, I had no way of leaving the now fully alerted castle...

[End of Part II.] *Trane*

Path: bull.hkstar.net!imci3!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.zeitgeist.net!news1.slip.net!news From: Trane@TeamHbbs.com Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Solstice Castle 3/14 Date: Mon, 12 Aug 1996 18:36:05 GMT Organization: Slip.Net Lines: 277 Message-ID: <4untes$luo@kiwi.slip.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: sf-pm6-16-80.dialup.slip.net X-Newsreader: Forte Free Agent 1.0.82

(Part III)
(Where teenage orphan Jaze finds himself hiding in the chambers of Princess Paleem's blonde lady-in-waiting Lorena, who disappeared just before Jaze and her maidservant Rebca saw a green-hooded figure attack the Prime Minister and steal the royal jewels, with Rebca now accused as an accomplice.)

I quickly donned my clothes and hid behind the large bed, covering myselfwith the silk bedclothes. Within moments, Lorena rushed in, looking wildly about. "Jaze", she whispered loudly, "are you still here?" Satisfied that she was alone, I emerged. The blonde beauty ran over and buried her face in my chest. She looked up, her beautiful blue eyes brimming with tears, and questions.
"What happened?" she demanded. I explained the mysterious attack on the Prime Minister and a young guard just outside the chamber door, with slight, dark-haired young Rebca arrested while trying to tend to the injured official, the late-arriving guards mistaking her tidiness at picking up a few jewels scattered in the robbery as an attempt at thievery.
Lorena pushed me away and began pacing. "Oh, dear! Rebca is my servant and at the very least my position with the princess is in jeopardy if I am found to have permitted a common thief to serve me." She froze and whirled to me, "And if you are found here, I will be sent back to my family in shame, if not arrested as one of the den of conspirators." She resumed pacing.
"Your concern for Rebca's welfare is touching," I replied drily. Lorena's golden curls whirled toward me as she started to snarl a reply. I held her by the shoulders, still distracted by her swaying bosom beneath the thin robe.
"Look, the only way to clear you completely is to convince the castle officials that Rebca was not involved. We need to find the attacker in the green cloak and determine who his conspirators are." Lorena nodded. "Whoeve rit was, the thief must have had connections in the castle to have been given access to it. So, we must be careful; we do not know who this enemy and his sponsor is."
I could see her thoughts speeding up to catch mine, her brilliant blue eyes dancing back and forth. "They tell me that both the Prime Minister and the guard who were struck by the villain are still senseless and likely to remain so for a few days." I breathed with relief, as the guard had seen both Rebca and I peering out of the chamber door, perhaps we had some time to seek the hooded assailant before I was identified as a by-stander in a place where I had no business being. "I will find out more information and meet with you in the mid-afternoon at the market square. For now, we need to rid this place of you."
My libido was returning, and my hands slid around her slender waist. "But I cannot think of a more idyllic hiding place," I protested. Her long slender fingers briefly rubbed along the front of my crotch, feeling my awakening hardness. "Listen, you randy young fool. The guards certainly will return soon to search the area. If we get this mess straightened out, you can hide yourself - and this", giving my rod an affectionate squeeze, "wherever you choose."
She walked to the heavy oak door to her chamber and peeked out. "Now, Jaze, all is quiet for the moment. All I can figure for your escape is to go down the laundry shaft into the laundry room, and escape out there." She said this casually, as though suggesting I step off of a wooden walk onto the street.
"Are you crazy!?" I sputtered. "That drop must be five landings of the stairs. Surely, I'll break every limb I have. That would be convenient for you; no one would know from which suite I came, and I would languish a cripple in the dungeons until I'm an old man!"
Her voice grew husky in an effort to persuade me. "Honestly, I saw a huge pile of laundry at the bottom of the shaft this afternoon. You could land in it and fall as though into a cloud."
"And if they have washed that laundry....?" She shrugged. Still, I knew she was right; I had no choice.
We crept out of her room and down a short hallway, into an alcove. She pulled open a small wooden door, and I pushed my feet and torso halfway through, my wide shoulders catching in the jamb. I started to protest that perhaps the shaft was too narrow for me, when we heard synchronous footsteps of guards approaching. She hastily whispered, "Then lose some weight," kissed me quickly but soundly, and pushed down on the top of my head, casting me into the shaft.
I barely noticed the sound of the small door slamming, for I was falling into utter blackness, the only sound that of my tunic brushing the rough stone sides of the shaft. The descent seemed to continue forever, as I desperately fought to keep my legs beneath me, but relaxed for such time as my fall terminated.
Abruptly I found myself enveloped in white, and abruptly I hit feet first and pitched into a mass of sheets and robes. The laundry was still there, and I was intact! My relief was short lived, as I felt a foot blindly strike my back, and a muttered oath in a male voice. I righted myself and looked out, seeing only a pair of wide nude male buttocks, as the owner lurched out of the pile, grasped a small stack of clothes, and darted out of room. His dark-maned head never looked back at me. My first thought was again one of panic. The man certainly would beckon the guards.
"Oh, fuck!" A young contralto voice behind me, slightly accented with the dialect of the gypsies of Bertrain. I whirled, and found myself looking into the dusky features and huge dark eyes of Lindea. The rest of here remained hidden in the sheets which covered us both, a mound perhaps four paces across.
I nearly jumped straight into the air. Lindea was the dark beauty of Speysard. Her family, like many of the gypsies, ran a laundry in the east end, where Lindea always could be found sweating over tubs and tables. I, along with all young men of the town, looked forward to dropping off clothes, merely for the opportunity to glimpse the tops of her heavy sweat-soaked breasts exposed as she leaned over the steaming laundry tubs, her nipples visible 'neath the flimsy top made almost transparent by the steam and perspiration. I always imagined that she had a special smile for me as I brought the cassocks of the monks. Yet, no man had been known to spend time alone with the beauty; rumor had it that her family was a deposed royal family of the Bertrain gypsies, and that her father would permit her to see no man who was not himself of royal blood. She always carried herself with regal disdain notwithstanding the menial nature of her work, giving only a curt greeting to each customer, and then returning to her scrubbing.
I could not decide which of us was the more starled, or frightened. She recognized me. "Master Jaze! What are you doing here?" she hissed. Her glance drifted up to the end of the chute out of which I had dropped. One brown arm pushed away from her head a mass of sheets that threatened to topple on her. I realized that the shoulder attached to that arm was bare, and suddenly I reasoned why she might be scared. The bare man's ass I had seen explained much.
I could not keep the grin from my face. "I could ask you the same. I don't think this is a way to get the laundry clean; in fact, you'll soil it in that fashion." I stretched toward her and pushed to one side a wad of white sheetsshe clutched before her, exposing a bare right side of her voluptuous form. I glimpsed a large round breast, floating in defiance of gravity, its dark nipple taut. She angrily pulled the sheet back in front of her.
"It is not your business what I do. Besides, he is royalty, like Lindea." Her pout broke; she threw her hand in front of her face as she realized what she had disclosed. Yes, I recognized the fleeing form now. It was Phenshraw, the oafish crown prince. No wonder he had bolted, afraid of being caught in the arms of a common laundress. I smiled and shrugged to assure her I had no desire to give away her secret. Her regal manner returned. "Lindea has so little opportunity to be with a man. My father, he will not let me see anyone, saying I must wait for one worthy of our family. And now, when I have an opportunityto lie with not just any man, but the future king of our country, Lindea is interrupted by someone who is in training to be a priest!" She spat out the last phrase. Her sheet carelessly slipped, exposing the better part of oneperfect breast and the swell of her womanly hip. Despite my two interludes with Lorena and Rebca, my loins suddenly stirred at the sight of the flesh that for so long had been the object of my fantasies.
"Wait, a djarr," I interjected. I sat up boastfully, knowing my physique would match up to any prince. "Just because my abode is with the priests does not mean their path is my own. If you were but minutes ago in the room of a certain lady-in-waiting, you would see how unlike a priest I am." Now it was my turn to bite my tongue. By conceding I was on the wing where the ladies-in-waiting resided, I in one swoop had placed myself at the scene of the Prime Minister's attack, not to mention in a compromising situation in the boudoir of a high lady.
Lindea's glare softened, as her eyes swept me as though for the first time. Her eyes stopped at my crotch, noting my renewed swelling. She glanced up at me, and - her eyes remaining locked onto mine - she began dropping the clutch of sheets down the front of her smooth skin. She paused at the tips of her full breasts and gently kneaded the full orbs with fabric covered fingers. Her hands dropped further, displaying for the first time the magnificence of the fabulous breasts whose shape I had reconstructed in my mind so many times in the past. Her dark nipples and large areoles stood proudly, the heavy tits sagging not at all. She again espied my crotch, which now was fully tented in my excitement. She smiled for the first time, an uncharacteristic wantonness to her visage.
"Yes, Jaze, I see you are a failure as a priest novitiate. It is not your calling." She swept the sheets aside, showing her to be kneeling amidst the soiled linens, her thick forest drawing my eye and my passion. "I, however, am calling you. You owe me that which your ill-timed arrival deprived." With that, the auburn-tressed voluptuary rose onto her knees, leaving all of her glories to explore. Suddenly, I found myself pushed onto my back, with theraven beauty groping at my breeches' drawstring. Before I could move, the trousers were pulled down to my knees, and Lindea was straddling my midquarters, her strong fingers wrapped around my tumescence. Her eyes grew wide as I continued to grow as a result of her fondling, and she muttered, "No priest at all... not this one." I felt wetness cover the tip of my cock, as she slowly sat back, taking me inside her.
Patiently, but firmly, she gyrated as she forced herself down on me. Her thick, lustrous dark hair fell forward, tickling my chest, her head bowed andbrow furrowed in concentration. She rose slightly, then dropped her full weight down, taking my entire length into her with a sibilant sigh. Her head snapped up and eyes sprang open. Her lascivious smile returned. Her hips began rocking forward and back, her balance maintained by spreading her long arms out to her sides, her fists balled with the sweet tension of our coupling.
She then leaned forward, bracing herself with strong splayed fingers on my chest. She hastened both her pace and the length of her strokes. My hands found her dangling tits, barely able to encompass their fullness. My thumbs teased the already erect nipples, to her murmured approval.
Her passion escalating, she caught her lower lip with her teeth and closed her eyes. I could not resist the tease; "Is it some prince you now dream is beneath you, my wonderful Lindea?" Her gaze returned to my face, with surprising fondness. She shook her head.
"No, Master Jaze. No royalty bears a scepter such as yours," she giggled. Her features stiffened as she continued to ride me. "Besides, I question whether you are as common as you think. Such things are among those my people can detect, and I feel that..."
Her surmise was cut off by a sliding sound above us. We both looked up just as a huge mass of sheets, a good half the size of our sexual bed, dropped from the shaft I had traveled myself. The force knocked us over, still entwined, but now I was on top, in the gauzy light of the fabric imprisoning us. Lindea did not falter, but locked her strong legs around my hips and drew me to her. I began deep strokes into her. Her fingers captured my face and drew her to her own, and we shared our first kiss, one of astonishing tenderness in view of the abrupt manner of our meeting. She sustained it, her sweet tongue shyly probing the inner edges of my lips, and then seeking my own. I returned her kiss with as much passion as I knew. Our eyes locked and smiled. We knew that in this castle filled with royalty, no two lovers had every been enveloped in a tryst as worthy of being called regal as that which we now enjoyed. I slid my lips off hers and down the sides of her throat. I nipped with quivering lips at her breasts and nipples. Her hands stroked up and down my back.
Our frenzy caused the sheets to shift, flinging us onto our sides. We laughed aloud and began to roll to and fro, as children rolling down a clover-laden hillside. One would be on top for a bare instant, and then with a twist or thrust we would reverse positions. Finally, we found a firm oasis in the shifting fabric, with me in virtually a sitting position and Lindea astride me, still joined at our loins. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and mine at her hips. Our lurching passion increased, and I knew she was but moments from her peak of joy, as was I. She came to it not with a shriek, but a long, low-pitched wail. With a jerk she pushed down onto me, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I could feel the pulsations of her inner walls as her moment arrived, sending me into my own paroxysms. I jetted my release into her as my hips rose. It seemed our spending would be without end. Soon, of course, it did, and we slumped back - Lindea outstretched atop me - in the near-darknessof our fabric tomb.
She tented her fingers on my chest and rested her chin on them. The dark pools of her eyes scanned my face. "Master Jaze," she uttered but then caught herself, laughing at her own formality. "Lover Jaze, I sense we may have much of an interesting future - at least in part together." Her features clouded,"But I suspect that future will be short if you are found here. Why are you in the castle, and why did you come down the laundry shaft?"
I already had alluded to a liason in Princess Paleema's suite. Still, Gypsy women are notorious for jealously removing an appendage or two of a lover who lies with another, and I suspected that she would grant me little allowance for the fact that the rendezvous upstairs had preceded my interlude with Lindea. Still, Lindea's knowledge of the castle and gypsy gifts might be of great aid. I told her as much truth as I could, that I was asked to assist on some errand upstairs and - before I could commence it - I saw the Prime Minister attacked and some poor maidservant unjustly accused. She did not ask for details of my alleged romantic tryst, and I volunteered none.
Lindea grew thoughtful. The gypsies are noted partisans of the wrongly accused, and I could see her heart go out to young Rebca, even though she knew the smaller girl only slightly. "The King's Guard will probably bring her to the storage catacomb down the hall from here," she said. "Perhaps if you are close enough, you can discover their plans for her." I nodded, and retrieved my clothes that had been flung off in our passionate frenzy.
When we both were dressed, she kissed me again. She tied her full thick hair back with a ribbon. "You must be careful, my love. I sense great intrigue and deceit in the castle. Those who would attack a Prime Minister would not hesitate to take a blade to one such as you." She kissed me again, and I slipped out of the room and headed down the hall....

*Trane*

Last modified (12/24/96 14:06:56) by Eli-the-Bearded.

Go back to the main erotica page.