To more fully enjoy this story in living, breathing HTML, please visit our website at: /~vivian Now offering over 140,000 words of pure prurience! -------------------------------------------------------- Sangrelysia by Vivian Darkbloom The Maid Assists with a Long-Overdue Housecleaning "I've always meant to ask where you got your door-knocker from," Gwendolyn (the elfin maid) inquired, looking up at me as she skillfully set to work. Knockers, I found myself repeating mentally, as my gaze lingered over the pale translucent softness revealed by her low-cut neckline as she knelt on the floor, the scrubbing motion generating a comfortable jiggle. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from her pleasantly curved bosom. I couldn't be certain, but it seemed like her smile turned up just a bit at the corners in response. "Portals with personality, A thin little volume by Montescue Frimpledoom, Professor Emeritus of wizardry at Cambridge," I replied. "Mail!" shouted the doorway, as the scroll came wafting in and landed on the table. The Princess sat on my lap as, breaking the seal, I unrolled it. "The expedition will convene at 7:30 A.M. sharp tomorrow morning," I read. Sylvia rolled her eyes, slowly and gently rotating her soft little buttocks on my lap. "That means noon." Shanon and Meredith, dark and light, the two ten-year-old girls-in-waiting ceased whispering in the corner, turning to approach solemnly where we sat. They addressed me: "We think the Princess needs a good wand in the rear." The Princess rolled her eyes. "You guys!" "The rear?" I asked, a bit startled. "You want me to give her a good paddling?" "Not on the rear, in the rear," said Meredith, golden blonde, eyes of autumn. "Not the very rear," emended Shanon, chocolate skinned with long dark curls. "It's just that, her best position for orgasm is face-down." "Hey!" protested Sylvia again. I stroked my beard. "Well let's see. There's the oak wand, but it's a bit oversized. Then there are the fir wands, but I don't want to get them all messy." Gwendolyn came up on the other side. "Wizard, you know damn well what they mean," she twinkled, with an elvish grin. "Only I've got one better." She slipped a hand behind her, and pulled a drawstring, allowing her bodice to release it's burden forward. "You could get the wand started, between these." Thin dark hands gently reached over to pull back the fabric, as Shanon stepped over to assist, with a knowing smile beneath lunar orbs. Dark hands stole up to release the wonders within, then to caress the graciously curved outline, interrupted by the growing dark-red nipples. My eyes were glued to the inviting crevice between. "The wand seems to be started already," commented Meredith, gently probing my lap beneath the Princess' soft, firm buns. "Hey!" again protested Sylvia, impulsively leaping up to turn and to face me. Her tiny, moist lips were inches from mine, dark and inviting, and I felt her breath brush warm against my face as she stood spread-legged over my seated thighs. I gazed into her eyes, emerald-green set in ivory. Faint wisps of her long dark hair fell gently, weaving apart and together as she turned slightly, lips barely touching, her breath increasing ever so subtly with a hint of passion. I watched as it languorously emerged into her awareness that her pretense of innocence had collapsed, and beheld an analogous descent, as she settled back to sitting on my lap. More like leaning perhaps, now with vertex between her legs an inverted `Y' pressed firmly against me, as she shifted and snuggled to establish our connection through layers of fabric. My mind I was tardily processing the remark about orgasm, as I wasn't even cognizant that a ten-year-old might be capable of one, let alone habitually, as the comment apparently indicated. Lost in thought, I next felt her soft, moist lips on mine, and I realized she was kissing me. I kissed back. Our tongues met and conversed with erudite eloquence. The other three, two girls, one of whom entwined with the breasts of the elf woman, watched with interest as Sylvia and I explored for the first time the delicious novelty of shared tactile pleasure. "It's about time you admitted that you love me," she said. "How about you?" I replied. "Were you going to keep me in the dark forever?" Again her lips found mine, and we kissed passionately. "It's so wonderful a gift to see such long-withheld love finally requited!" Gwendolyn sighed as Shannon's dark, thin hands continued to trace the private curves and peaks of her body. Gwen reached up to reciprocally caress the other's mysterious velvety dark forehead and entrancing curls. My elfin maid kneeled down, then leaned back to sitting on the carpet, legs apart, knees skyward. Shannon followed her descent, adding a long, pink tongue to the fingers that explored breastwise, and Gwendolyn meanwhile drew up her white apron, green dress, and petticoats, to reveal the dark red lips below. Shannon paused in her sensuous suckling, considering this latest disclosure with a thoughtful smile. This I only glimpsed, as I was busy outlining the thin torso of my dear sweet Royal Princess with open palms and fingers running up and down lovingly her pale cotton blouse, yearning to embrace her deep inside of me. Our mutual sharing, so profound, unexpected, and completely new, seemed commonplace. It was almost as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. Ho hum, another day, another ray of sunlight streaming through the kitchen window over suds-covered half-washed dishes, another nudge from the tip of her tongue against mine as her pelvis fell into a slow, delicate rhythm pressing against me, steadying herself by pressing her hands on my shoulders and sides of my neck. Meredith, beside us, long brushed-back hair the earthen yellow color of leaves ready to fall, watched intently, kissing her Highness gently on the cheek as I felt her hand exploring below. Now glancing at the two on the floor, I saw my maid, pale Gwendolyn, lying full flat on her back, knees jerking and gutturally grunting in response to the bobbing of the dark curls between her legs, Shannon sprawled elegantly, her hands wrapped around the other's gyrating pelvis. Oh how I loved these girls, and trembled with anticipation and longing for the shared climaxes that I scarcely dreamed to be possible. "Princess," cried out Gwendolyn, "Over here!" Sylvia ended our latest kiss and drew back slightly, as she glanced over at the pair on the floor, then back at me, with inquiring eyes. I nodded. "So. You like a girl's tongue, down there?" I asked. Slowly, she nodded. "Once or twice I have. But. . ." she broke off. "What?" I asked. "I want you in there, too!" I laughed. "I think we can manage something along those lines. Now, Gwendolyn is quite good, I'm certain. Go." Slowly Sylvia stood above me, and Meredith, with experienced fingers, drew up the white dress over the Princess' head, carefully setting it down on the carpet beside us. Never before had I beheld the Sylvia's nudity, her thin frame in pale vulnerability, now warm and soft facing me, tiny twin aureolae like pennies on the backdrop of her smooth, flat chest. Still, Sylvia straddled my thighs, but stepped back as Meredith lowered her panties. The scent of her young, feminine warmth glowed passionately in my nostrils. Gently I traced almost imperceptible lines down her pale silkiness with my fingertips, triggering her into shivers of tingling delight. I inhaled sharply as white fabric fell away to reveal the smooth, hot, soft sweetness which, moments ago, and been so closely pressed against my urgent desire, the tiny hairless curls of flesh nestled in the mystery of her sex. I surged forth a millimetre from sheer molten magnetism. Then she lifted her legs over me and turned away. Pale, tight little receding buns faced me as the Princess went over, lowering her sensitive penetrability to the lips of the elfin maid. An agile tongue leapt up like a flame from below to meet the descending pearl, and the connection brought forth a cry, the likes of which I had never heard before. "Oh!" repeated Sylvia again and again in miniaturely high-pitched erotic abandon I barely would have imagined escaping the lips of a ten-year-old girl, as she threw her head back and gave in to the skillful probing. The ever attentive Meredith had located somewhere in the folds of her dress a vial of sweet-smelling lotion, which she smeared flower-scented between carelessly lolling breasts of the elfin handmaiden, who was now heavily occupied at both ends, the princess at her mouth and the dark-skinned one with beautiful black curls between her legs. I walked over to the whirring and purring organic machine, quiet motion punctuated with occasional sighs and moans of ecstasy. Meredith reached swiftly to untie the cord holding up my lower garments. They dropped with alarming rapidity, as she gently guided my wand between erect twin buttons to the now sweetly lubricated soft valley. "I've never done this before," she confided in a whisper, as she reached around to press the maid's breasts together beautifully around me. Good thing she was available, as Gwendolyn's hands were well immersed in the activity of the Princess. "It's perfect," I assured her, as I too fell into rhythm behind the Princess' inspiringly round buttocks, leaning forward gently so Sylvia could feel my cuddling and caring warmth in back of her. Sunlight crept across the wall as we enjoyed the iterations, repetitious but hardly monotonous, the smaller circles within the larger circles, epicycles within the orbits. The clock ticked in its own rhythm and chimed, the last grains of sand fell from the upper chamber of the hourglass, collapsing ever so slightly the tiny mountain built by their predecessors. Our pleasure rose and fell, surged and subsided, increasing gradually upward as we settled in and shifted to get comfortable. I was sure I felt the familiar tremble of climax several times, earthquakes below me from from maid and Princess alike, possibly both at once. Then came a moment when I found myself feeling chilly and forlorn, apart from the soft crevice that had so perfectly been embracing me. I opened my eyes, to meet Meredith's impartial gaze across from me. She reached out and kissed me on the lips, briefly, with just a hint of tongue. Then bent over to kiss my wand, just a peck. But down to business -- she took firm grasp of the rod, and guided it to the rear of the Princess. Like she promised, not the very rear (brushing against it), but the seed-receptacle (or proto-receptacle) right to the front of it. I was so stiff and sensitive I worried lest she might be too rough, but she was ever so gentle, as she placed the very point into the heart of the valley, the sensation-nexus of the Princess' opening. Gwendolyn had seen what was coming, and so withdrawn her fingers, but the Princess hadn't immediately grasped that it wasn't just the Maid's finger being reinserted. Her cries of lustful passion grew as the realization dawned, and her pelvic motion renewed in vigor with welcoming of my entry into her sacred chamber. Gwen's hand, not one to be idle, took its place caressing my sack beneath, and vicinity. "Mare!" cried out Sylvia. "Over here!" Meredith silently let go of me, having erected the machinery in accordance with the grand plan, and crawled over to kneel on the carpet in front of the Princess, lifting her skirt to reveal the bare smooth folds within. Sylvia greedily clutched her friend's thighs, and plunged her face into the awaiting opening. Now it was Meredith's turn to throw her head back in blissfully moaning abandon. So we served the Princess, Gwen below, from the front, I above, from behind, and Meredith to her face, as we worked in tight synchronization as a team, to tease higher and higher, draw tighter and tighter the tension, until the bow released, and Sylvia's cries lengthened as she lost complete control to and ecstatic trembling dance. I felt chains of pulses squeezing up and down me, but dutifully I held back, ever Milady's servant, while Eros' arrows thus released buried itself so deeply in my heart. But she was not to be fooled. Her desperate-sounding cries of orgasm softened into devilish giggles as she twisted and turned her little tush. My turn, now, to cry out, as the unexpected goading dangerously threatened the agonized hairline cracks in the dam, treading carelessly the vein of weakness, now heavily burdened with the swollen waters of torrential rains of built-up anticipation and longing, until finally Meredith's straw-colored locks flew up as I heard her cry out in release, and with that hair-trigger the brittle barrier could withstand no more, and overloaded with the strain, cracked and burst into a million drops of releasing evanescent stars of feverish fluidity raining fertility into the deep realms of tiny youth below me, as I pushed and drove my loving intensity into the shared beauty of our combined orgasms as -- yes, unbelievably -- Sylvia came yet again. Gradually, the machinery ground to a halt, and we collapsed in each other's arms, drawing up a downy quilt against the refreshing breeze that ventured in from the kitchen window. Chapter 8 _______________________________________________________ For more stories, please visit our site: /~vivian