Message-ID: <6398eli$9802251447@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: apuleius@poboxes.com (Apuleius of Madaura)
Subject: RP: Solstice Castle by Trane Ch. 8-14 (MF+ FF con hist)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
X-No-Archive: yes
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <34f37386.3979843@news.labyrinth.net.au>



                            SOLSTICE CASTLE PART VIII

  (In which our hero, teenaged orphan Jaze, seeking to find the
mysterious green-cloaked stranger who clubbed the Prime Minister
and stole some of the magical royal gemstones, finds himself a
guest at a royal debauch. Having enjoyed the combined favors of
two nubile young cousins and peering at Princess Paleem while
trying to avoid the mysterious assailant, Jaze now stumbles upon
an old acquaintance.)

    [...At that moment, the rousing frenzied music slowed and
then ended, with the dark-curled dancer who was swaying in front
of the band slumping to her knees. Few of the revelers took
notice of the change, so caught up were they in their lustful
activities. I took my eyes from the stage and circled around
toward the back of the grassy ampitheatre, hoping to find another
willing beauty who might wish to share in the stiffness that my
observation of Paleem and Rebca had brought on. In doing so, I
failed to notice the tall slim blind-folded woman with a long
linen sack move to the stage....]  [End of Part VII]
--------------------

   My eyes made contact with those of Jenfeer, the stunning,
high-breasted young woman with the long, blond braid who had
introduced me to the smoking of the ritual aphrodisiac herbs. The
fair creature was now seated at the edge of the pool, still clad
only in the string of thin chains that cascaded across her hips.
Her long legs were stretched in front of her to allow her feet to
dangle in the warm water, and I now marveled at their absolutely
perfect shape.  She glanced at me and rolled onto her side,
braced on one elbow, and she raised her topmost knee, exposing
her inner flesh to me. Her broad smile to me completed the
unambiguous invitation.
   Two high-pitched blasts from the grassy "stage" drew my
glance, as well as at least a quick glance from others who were
not too deeply engaged in their lustful couplings. Phenshraw
himself stepped forward and I noticed for the first time the
woman with the blindfold standing quietly to his right. Could
that be .... ???!!
   "My dear friends," the Prince intoned jovially, "we have a
treat tonight beyond all expectations. We have after no little
pleading from my family been able to persuade the Goddess of
Music herself to join in our celebration of the Solstice here in
our summer home and her adopted town of Speysard. She of course
must wear one of our finest silken scarves to protect her eyes
from the glare of the torches" - with that the crowd of nobles
laughed - "oh, and perhaps some of you are not sufficiently
attired that it would be proper for such an honored lady to be
assaulted by the visage of your flabby, white .... uh, rear
ends."  The laughter grew. "Please enjoy the offerings from our
most honored guest, Madame Jeara!"
   My jaw dropped to my chest. Madame Jeara! The most famous
floutist in all the land, a reclusive woman whose gifts with the
flute could bring armies to tears and priests to the point of
savagery. Beyond that, she was my own flute instructor. And, yes,
she was my lover, a relationship borne of my adolescent innocence
and her pain at the loss of her husband, whose death in the wars
in the East had sent her into refuge at Speysard. Her earnings
had permitted her to acquire and live at a home out on the
cliffs, where she spent her days playing dirgelike paens to her
lost husband, but would play no further performances.
   When Madame Jeara's friends had implored her to work through
her grief by resuming some contact with the world, she
compromised by agreeing to give flute lessons to the two best of
the flute students in the local schools. With all modesty, I must
concede that I had shown considerable aptitude for the flute, and
few boys could challenge my skills as music was not considered to
be the most masculine of pursuits by most young men. When I
arrived for my first lesson with my slender, bookish classmate
Linna, I was surprised to discover that the legendary figure was
not a middle-aged matron, but a tall, grey-eyed woman in her late
twenties, with long, straight hair with naturally alternating
streaks of ash blonde and light brown.
  Jeara (as she insisted we call her) carried herself with quiet
solemnitude, and Linna and I at first felt reluctant to continue
with the lessons, feeling that they were little more than the
product of Jeara's sense of obligation to carry out the wishes of
her concerned friends.  The two of us practiced madly between
lessons in order to please her, much to the dismay of Brother
Bartone, whose cell at the monastery was above my quarters. After
a few weeks, Jeara's attitudes toward Linna and me began to warm,
as she discovered, as do many, that in teaching one must
articulate the basis of one's craft and can often enhance one's
own skills in that discipline.
   Between us, Linna and I had plotted to further bring Jeara out
of her melancholy. Beyond our efforts to please her by constant
practice, my  brown-haired classmate and I would compose silly
parodies of popular tunes, taking off wildly in flights of
whimsy, while showing sufficient respect for each melody's
structure to demonstrate some virtuosity. From these rehearsals,
a warm, platonic friendship developed between Linna and I, and I
looked forward to our practice sessions and the opportunity to
make her freckled nose crinkle in mock disgust at my sometimes
crude attempts at composition.  Linna clearly was the far more
accomplished musician and envisioned herself a professional
musician in a few years. Although from her shyness she was
considered by our classmates to be aloof, she was bright beyond
measure. Linna was fully aware what an extraordinary gift had
been handed to her in the lessons from Jeara, who she worshipped
to the point of emulating her clothing style.
    I thought back to that magical, warm afternoon only a few
months earlier where so much changed among the three of us. I had
completed my chores at the monastery early and scampered up the
dusty road to Jeara's cliffside home to arrive early, in the hope
that she might assist me in some of the more difficult passages
she had taught us so that I might catch up to Linna's skills.  My
light knock on Jeara's door went unanswered, but I could hear her
flute wafting from beyond the thin wood. I slipped inside and
headed through her main parlor to her back deck overlooking the
open sea. The back door was pushed open to permit the breeze to
cool the home, and through it I could see Jeara seated and
leaning against a balustrade, her eyes closed, and her flute in
hand.
   She was playing a melody the beauty of which my simple talents
cannot begin to describe. Her improvised melody captured the
breeze, and the sea - and her loneliness at the loss of someone
dear. The dirge shifted into almost a military cadence, evoking
images of her lost husband. One could almost see him in his
uniform, tall and commanding.
   The melody then softened, grew more intimate, as the man came
to her - yes, there was a melody by which she described herself:
sure and gifted, but still open and submissive.  The two of them
jousted playfully, then more seriously. The pitch then lowered in
pitch and volume, and my own loins stirred with the aural image
of the soldier stroking the bare flesh of his lover, Jeara.
   Sadly, the music started to fade, as though the two years
since his death had started to unravel the fabric of her memory
of him. I saw a tear of frustration bead at the corner of one of
her closed eyes. I do not know what possessed me at my moment,
but I somehow decided to pull my own flute from my belt and
respond with a simple melody of my own, crafted on the spot. I
tried to mimic her own smoky capture of the soldier's strength
and grace, but unsurprisingly re-made him into an earnest but
somewhat gawky young footsoldier.
   Upon hearing my notes in my characteristic style, Jeara merely
smiled wryly, and let her instrument fall from her lips. As my
own playing began to flag in embarassment, her eyes opened and
looked warmly toward mine, encouraging me to continue. She
recognized that however limited might be my skills, I was truly
beginning to feel the beckonings of the muse, and the powers of
the music to capture and explore human emotions. With her eyes,
Jeara beckoned me to recline behind her, while continuing my
playing. As I lay back, she rested her head on my shoulder and
joined in my tune.
   With her wonderful tone, she guided me further into our tale,
reassuring the young footsoldier to not be shy with the older
widow. She replayed the sensual tone that had drawn me outside,
and I nearly recoiled in shock at the intimacies suggested by the
melody line. I suddently became aware that the softness of her
slim flank was resting against my hip, and that the fragrance of
her long, silken tresses gathered at the swell of my throat and
wafted around me. I tentatively responded to her musical
invitation, and she playfully teased me with snippets of sexy,
ribald musical cliches.  I grew more forceful with the sexual
energy of the young, and she dared me to proceed further. I
pressed on, with an almost cacaphonous fervor, my own young cock
beginning to swell in my breeches. I began a salacious cadence,
strong firm. She matched my own, hotly, and we lunged together
harder and harder, higher and higher in pitch. I went on,
synchronously stroking in a furious glissando, when I suddenly
realized where I was and with whom I was engaged in this musical
lovematch. Ideas fled from my young, amateurish lyrical heart,
and I could only crash with the hellish heat of climax, spurting
out blast after blast. Her flute soared while mine dipped, as we
went on for what seemed like minutes. Playfully, as if to
complete the story, we slowly descended with ever softer pulses
and nips, and finally stopped and lay our flutes aside.
   We sat there for a long moment, she looking out to sea; I
gazing in the same direction over her shoulder. Our breath came
out in surprised pants. My mouth dropped open in stunned
exhaltation. Never had I experienced such a musical epiphany, and
I expected that I never would again. Jeara slowly turned her head
and shoulders to me, bracing herself with a hand on my thigh. I
saw the first unabashed smile I had ever seen from her:
"Welcome," her eyes seemed to say, "to this new place where magic
is created from music."
   She laughed aloud at the stunned expression on my face, and
her free hand cupped my cheek in friendly greeting. Her other
hand patted the thigh on which it rested.  Alas, on that spot was
the tip of my now fully-erect young staff, still stimulated to
the brink by our sensual concert.
   A range of emotions swept across her beautiful face then:
surprise, embarrassment, and flattered pleasure. Our eyes locked
for a moment and her breath seemed to catch, and then Jeara
leaned forward and locked her arms around my neck. She pressed
her lips sweetly to mine, and then pressed her body to me firmly.
   I hesitated for only a moment, and then I pressed my arms
around her waist and returned her kiss, communicating not only my
adolescent, ever-present lusts, but my love and affection for
this stunning woman who had opened this new territory to me. As
the tender kiss continued, her hands began to explore me, to
reacquaint herself with the body of a man. Emboldened, I allowed
my own hands to drift over her torso, and I became enflamed by
each slender swell and dip of her magnificence. Her loins pressed
against mine, grinding her soft mons against my straining
hardness.
   Opening her eyes, Jeara broke the kiss but moved her face only
inches from mine. Her unwavering stare probed me; I answered with
hope, affection, confidence, and not a little lust. Seemingly
satisfied with my response, Jeara pushed herself up off my
shoulder and rose to her feet. Wordlessly, she dropped a hand to
me, and I stood up, the front of my breeches now fully tented.
   Taking my hand in hers, she led me into the house, through the
parlor, and down the hall to a large bedroom that also opened
onto a deck facing the sea. It was simply furnished, with only a
large but simple bed, a nightstand with basin and candle, and a
dresser.
   Turning to face me, Jeara took hold of the hem of my shirt and
drew it quickly over my head, cocking her head and smiling in
acknowledgment at my slim but muscular form. My stupor at the
series of events that led me to her bed chamber could not keep
from me the realization that I had never seen Jeara so happy, so
playful -- so *alive*. Her hands then quickly undid my belt and
tugged my breeches to the floor. As my feet stepped out of them,
her slim fingers drew up my thighs and then swirled around my
throbbing, exposed member, measuring me, toying with me,
enrapturing me.
   As I groaned in pleasure, Jeara gently let go and turned her
back to me. I picked up her hint and unfastened the drawstring at
her neck which held up her linen robe. When she paused, I drew
the garment over her shoulders and down her dangling arms. I
leaned forward and kissed the sloping valley between neck and
shoulder, then drew my lips down the middle of her back, taking
the robe further down ahead of me. Her generous but taut ass came
into view, and I dropped to one knee and rubbed my cheek against
one soft buttock as the robe finally pooled at her feet.
   I turned the standing woman to face me, and found my eyes no
more than an inch from her downy valley. I pressed my lips to the
center of her soft, light-colored pubic locks in tribute. My
pursed lips descended to the opening of her fleshy folds, and the
aroma of her arousal ascended to greet me. I kissed, I chewed, I
worshipped those lips. My tongue stroked along the edge of the
cleft, and then hungily slid inside, savoring her intimate
juices. My hands, which were gently stroking her thighs, felt
them quiver with tension and anticipation.
   After long moments where her murmered endearments rose to
muffled groans, she brought her fingers to opposite sides of my
cheek and bid me to rise to my feet. As I did, her mouth again
clamped onto mine, and her teeth nibbled at my lower lip.  My
hands brushed against the small, light-pink nipples that capped
her modest but perfectly shaped breasts.
   Together, we descended to the bed, and she pushed at my
shoulders to have me lay on my back, as she knelt next to my
hips. Her slender fingers again clutched at my stalk, but now
firmly. She slowly drew her hand up and down several times, and I
feared that I might spend if she were to continue too long.
   A bead of my seed gathered at the tip. She leaned over as
thought to examine my emission, and then barely parted her lips
and took the reddened tip inside her mouth. I almost exploded as
I felt her soft tongue tap at the pre-cum, and then slide over
the lust-moistened end. After laving my rod for a moment, she
slowly glided her wonderful lips back to the tip with slight
suction, drawing the substance inside her. In my adolescence, I
must confess, I could not help but think of what magic that this
woman, the most accomplished floutist of our time, might bring to
such oral ministrations upon my straining cock.
   However, Jeara then pulled her mouth away altogether, and rose
up onto her knees. The ash-blonde woman threw her legs over my
hips so that her pussy rested just above my erection, and she
guided me inside her with a sure hand. With only two firm pushes,
I was completely inside her wet, tight glove. She rested her
hands on my shoulders and then began to rock her loins on my
hips, drawing me out of and then into her center of passions. I,
on my back, clutched her hips and moved my own hips up to meet
her fevered pushes. I gloried in the heated pressure of her tight
walls on my burgeoning sword, as we continued our dance.
   Her eyes flickered open and her mouth drew into an ecstatic
rictus of pleasure as I further lunged up. She began to hum
lightly, using her pitch, as well as the pace of her own hips to
guide my tempo. She soon began to ride me faster, and I
concentrated on postponing my own release until I was sure hers
had come. I finally was rewarded with a muffled, shrill hum and
felt her cunt muscles contract with pulsating jerks. I then cried
out my own release, gasping as the seed spurted from me and
filled the older woman's chamber. I lurched up again and again,
spending deep into her each time.
   As our ecstacy subsided, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the
gentle sensations of Jeara's hugging moist channel on my
deflating manhood. Long moments of such ecstacy accompanied by
the warmth of the late afternoon sun completed my reverie.
   Without warning, I felt her tense, and my eyes shot open. I
looked up and saw her eyes dart in horror toward the door. My
eyes followed, and saw standing in the doorway the slender Linna,
flute bag in hand, her brown eyes welling with tears. Her lips
quivered, and she barely blubbered, "No - not the two of you; not
together!" With a wail, she disappeared from the doorway.
    Jeara slid off my now soft member, and we both quickly stood.
Jeara threw on her robe and went after the young student, while I
wrestled with my shirt and breeches. I came out to the main
parlor, where I found the two women huddled on the couch. Linna's
face was buried in Jeara's chest, and I could see the girl's
light-brown curls and shoulders heave with her sobs. I crept by
and motioned to Jeara that I would leave, but she instead
motioned me to sit in a chair opposite them.
    Through her sobs, Linna somehow explained that in coming up
the hills she heard the sensual, and ultimately sexual, duets
between Jeara and me. Realizing that I somehow had been elevated
to some sphere of musical awareness that she, Linna - considered
the more musical of the two of us - had not yet grasped. She
crept into the house in curiosity, and saw the two of us embrace
and then retire to Jeara's bedchamber for a lustful tryst. Crying
into Jeara's chest, Linna now conceded that her despondency had
at that point become complete, as she saw the two people who she
most admired and loved - musically, spiritually and physically -
were now locked into a union that could only exclude her.
    As Linna finished her confession, Jeara and I sat in stunned
silence. Suddenly, I realized how much my affection for the
brilliant talents of this quiet, button-nosed girl really meant
to me, and how much I physically cherished her as well. Jeara
rocked the young girl in her arms, and Linna's tears finally
subsided. Jeara then quietly explained how I had come upon her
grieving playing and had joined the performance, which had led to
our out-of-control joining. Jeara explained, "Linna, dear, there
is nothing to prevent you from performing with me in such a duet
as well." She suddenly blushed as she realized the potential
double meaning of her words.
   Linna looked into her face with serious, red-brimmed eyes and
protested, "But that's the point. How can I match the passion of
your playing, and Jaze's, when the lust you can feel for him is
what I feel for you and" - there, Linna turned to me - "and I've
felt for the longest time for Jaze but you two don't for me?"
Again, we sat in silence. Linna closed her eyes, as she could not
bear to watch us after admitting such dual loves.
    Jeara commended me to her with a soft, "Jaze." As I came
over, she beckoned me to pick up the slender Linna, and led me
back to her bedroom, with the girl in my arms. I gently dropped
Linna's feet to the floor while holding her shoulders. The girl's
eyes remained close until she felt the kiss on her lips, and,
upon opening her eyes, was openly startled to discover that the
lips were not mine, but those of Jeara.
   Together then, Jeara and I stripped the flower-embroidered
blouse from Linna's form and her full skirt from around her
waist. We then disrobed each other and softly laid Linna back
onto the bed. The older woman and I knelt beside her and took
turns kissing the girl while allowing our hands to gently roam
over her torse, lightly tweaking at the small, barely ripe
breasts and lightly-furred mound of her loins. Our lips soon
followed our hands, nipping and caressing her soft skin. She soon
began to smile in raw pleasure at the sensualness of the
pampering. Before long, however, the girl's sexual urges took
over, and she began to almost wildly swing her head and legs
about, finally shrieking as Jeara took the girl's virginal pussy
lips between her teeth and began tugging at licking at Linna's
sex.
   One of Linna's flailing arms finally descended upon my re-
swollen organ as I knelt beside her, and then her hand twisted
around to grasp its thickness. Linna turned her sweet face toward
me and impatiently flicked one of her lush brown curls away from
her eyes. She then arched her neck toward me and took my thick
cock into her pink lips. Her tongue lapped at the underside of
the head and then swabbed at the tip, and I could tell she was
exploring and savoring the taste of both my swollen cock and the
the residue of Jeara's cuntal juices.
   Linna's eyes flickered up to mine, and she kept them locked on
me as she continued to nibble and lave at my engorged rod. The
look of love and happiness and relief on her face gave to her a
beauty that not even the most renowned of concubines could ever
hope to match. She then closed her eyes and threw her face
forward, drawing me further inside her heated mouth and bringing
me closer to spending once again.
    I pulled away and Linna instinctively drew her leg that was
closest to me toward her chest. Needing no further communication,
Jeara pulled her hungering mouth away from the girl and, with a
soft tug at my thigh, guided me into the saddle of Linna's
widespread thighs. Jeara darted to the head of the bed and sat
sideways, allowing Linna to rest her head on the musician's lap.
    Linna moaned slightly as my cock passed the portals of her
inexperienced pussy, but she made no further complaint as I made
my way inside her, except for one sharp intake of breath as I
slowly ripped away the shield of her virginity. Throughout this
entry, Jeara soothed the girl with gentle strokes of her temple,
shoulders and breasts. After my pentration was complete and I
began the most gentle surges I could muster, Jeara leaned over
and gently kissed Linna, their tongues encircling and joining. My
stroking of Linna went on.
    In only a few moments, Linna emitted a soft, keening whine
into Jeara's mouth as her spasms came over her. I waited until
sure of her climax, and then permitted my own explosion, drawing
a quick, surprised chirp from Linna as she felt the warmth of my
seed splash inside her.
    After a respite of only a few moments, Linna slid from the
bed and pulled us outside, where she picked up our flutes. The
three of us sat in the nude on the edge of the low wall
protecting Jeara's deck from the surrounding cliffs, and began
playing. We allowed Linna to take the lead, playing of children
scampering around a pond, chasing a big green frog (with my
impression of a basso frog nearly ending the concert from the
women's laughter), and then telling of the young lovers who come
to the pond to lie on its banks and engage in their trysts. The
flutes of the two extraordinarily talented women soared over the
milling gulls, while I, in my near exhaustion, contented myself
with taking on the role of the willing but not-too-aggressive
young men. Only darkness and the treacherousness of the unlit
road back to the village ended the concert.
    The final memories of that day some months before - of Linna
and I strolling hand in hand back to the village - resounded
through my head here in the ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice
Castle as I watched the blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and
begin to perform for the assembled royals and the young maids who
cavorted with them....

                    SOLSTICE CASTLE PART IX

  (In which our hero, teenaged orphan Jaze, seeking to find the
mysterious green-cloaked stranger who clubbed the Prime Minister
and stole some of the magical royal gemstones, finds himself a
guest at the royal's debauch-filled stag party. Having enjoyed
the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and peering at
Princess Paleem while trying to avoid the mysterious assailant,
Jaze now sees that his flute instructor and lover, Madame Jeara,
has been brought into play to the royalty gathered there.)

    The final memories of that day some months before - of Linna
and I strolling hand in hand back to the village after our menage
a trois with Madame Jeara - resounded through my head here in the
ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice Castle as I watched the
blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and begin to perform for the
assembled royals and the young maids who cavorted with them....
   [End of Part VIII]
**************************
  I was torn.  I had a raging desire to go visit the sultry,
high-breasted and long-legged blonde beauty Jenfeer, who was
giving me come-hither looks from where she was seated by the
pool. Still, I could not take my eyes of the sleek, ash-blonde
woman who was putting her lips to her flute.
  Looking around me, I could see that more than a few of the
revelers were keeping a least one eye on the stage, so great
was Jeara's fame and legend. Several couples were lying on
their sides facing the stage on the soft grassy slopes around
the pool, with the male behind the maid who was serving him,
driving his hard sword into her tender depths.
  A soft, birdlike trill started slowly, and then became
louder, as though tentatively filling the natural ampitheatre
to its capacity. As her most apt pupil, I could immediately
sense from Jeara's hard-edged tune her conflicting emotions -
annoyance at being commanded to leave her refuge and appear for
the royals, humiliation at being led to a place of wild
sexuality but being deprived of any participation or even view
of the goings one, and loneliness at having no one with whom to
share the very emotions of hope and revelry that the Solstice
Festival was to bring about.
   I almost winced as I heard her descend into a tune very
similar to that which I'd first heard on that afternoon on
which we'd become lovers. Her melody sang of a couple, tall and
gorgeous and very much in love, who have life and passion torn
from them as the man dies in battle. Her tones, low and mournful,
told of the woman's griefstricken travails, with all desire to
touch or even to see others slipping away from her.
   As Jeara continued, I could see that the frantic couplings
had all ceased. Most of the rutting royal's organs had flagged,
dropping limply from the juicy pussies of the young beauties
who served them. Crown Prince Phrenshraw now sat at the edge of
the pool below the stage, his elbows on his knees and his rapt
head solemnly cupped in his hands, while a sandy haired young
vixen, wearing nary a stitch, knelt behind him with her arms
resting on his shoulders, her attention also focussed on the
stage. Many a young girl was weeping silently as the melancholy
tune brought a funeral, hopeless tone to her heart. The duke who
had first started the festivities stood to the side of the stage,
wringing his hands in consterntation at the death knell that
Jeara's playing had dealt to the festivities.
   But Jeara seemed oblivious, and continued her dirge-like
tones, her head floating softly atop her shoulders, as though
transported in a trance to another place. I could see that she
might continue on in this vein for another hour unless
intercepted - and that no one would have the audacity to cut
off the efforts of the most distinguished musician in all our
land.
   Again, impetuosity overcame me, and I found myself heading
up to the stage. From Jeara's linen bag, I slid out one of her
larger flutes, with a lower range. Seating myself near the side
of the stage - my legs crossed in front of me, I pulled the
instrument to my lips and began a baritone countermelody to her
own. Her head jerked toward me in confusion and not a little
anger; who would dare to play on the same stage as she? I
responded with a few signature measures that she was sure to
recognize, and an unmistakeable - but confused smile - grew on
her lips. All the while, she did not miss a beat as my playing
meshed with hers.
   I toyed with Jeara's song by playing a parody of it; making my
own tune so sad and tinged with grief that she could not help but
let a chuckle slip into her song. She now clearly recognized the
pall that she had brought to the fest, and an apologetic peep
was returned to me. I slowly shifted the song back to the first
notes she'd played, taking the role of the soldier she'd sent
off to war but never was to see again. As I now, more
confidently, played the scene with my flute, the soldier himself
now returned to her, an absurd trill announcing that the report
of his death was an error of the bureaucracy. Jeara played
along with my revisionism, and now re-cast herself as the
overwhelmingly relieved and ecstatic lover, throwing herself
into the arms of her returning beloved. In our notes, birds
soared and danced in a duel in the skies.
   The atmosphere in the ampitheatre visibly lightened, even if
not all those assembled detected the details of the scene that
was being playing by our flutes. I glanced down by the pool,
and could see fires re-stoked by the lighter tone. The heavily-
breasted blonde whose favors I had declined in order to chase
after the green cloaked assailant now was astride a fleshy baron,
her cunt filled with his hard cock and her hips jerking as she
pounded down onto his loins in time to the music. Her paramour,
for the moment at least, reached up while she rode him and cupped
her tits and stroked her hardened nipples. The blonde glanced at
me and blew me a kiss with what can best be described as a look
of gratitude. Surrounding her were dozens of other couplings
similarly synchronized to the music.
  The young looking young angel who I'd earlier espied with the
older man who she claimed as her "uncle" now was wrapped around a
standing, slender boy who looked barely old enough to shave. She
affixed herself to him by latching her arms around his neck and
her legs around his waist. He held her ass as she vigorously
bounced on his slender organ. Somehow, he managed to retain his
balance throughout.
   Several of the serving maids were up on their knees swaying to
the steady tune. Jenfeer rose to her feet and pulled up two of
the wenches, and they resumed their passage through the crowd
with flagons of wine and waterpipes full of the aphrodisiac
tobacco that had so entranced the crowd earlier.
   I saw several of the musicians who had been succeeded by Jeara
now sitting alongside the stage, their feet involuntarily tapping
time. I nodded toward them, and then toward their instruments.
Each grinned at the opportunity to accompany the exalted Madame
Jeara, and leaped onto the stage. The drummer, a shaggy haired
young man, laid down a heavy pulsating beat, and the lute players
added a lilting background to our solos. A half dozen nude or
nearly nude courtesans who were not otherwise occupied slipped up
near the stage, swaying their slim hips and clapping with the
music, their firm young breasts bobbing along with them.
  Charel and Licia, the two cousins who had first greeted me with
their delightful bodies earlier in the evening, now hovered near
the back of the stage, enthralled with Jeara's playing. I smiled
at them and gestured with another nod toward Jeara. Licia and
Charel hesitantly came forward, and the blonde Charel knelt down
beside Jeara. The older woman sensed their presence but continued
playing. I detoured to a quote from an old children's tune about
animal friends beside a pond, and Jeara picked up the reference
and visibly relaxed. Charel reached up and softly rubbed Jeara's
shoulders and neck, and Jeara' flute trilled in delight.
   Slim hands then covered my eyes, and I fought to keep my
concentration on my playing. As I passed the solo over to Jeara,
incredibly soft lips found my own, prying them open. A blast of
sweet, spiced smoke entered my mouth and lungs, and I heard the
brushing sound of a metallic chain and felt a high, firm, round
breast press against my back. Of course: Jenfeer. I opened my
eyes and saw her dancing blue eyes and chiseled, pale cheekbones,
framed by her blonde hair that was pulled back and tied into a
long braid that serpentined down her back. I slid my mouth from
hers and nibbled on her ear and neck as she knelt before me; I
remained sitting. I did not fight as she guided my mouth down to
her left breast, taking as much of the delicious orb as I could
into my mouth, while my trapped tongue danced over the taut
nipple.
   As my solo returned, I pulled my lips away from Jenfeer's
breast and sat up, reluctantly taking the flute up to play. Ever
the good sport, the platinum-haired goddess reached down and
expertly untied the drawstring to my breeches. My improvisational
skills lost a little focus as I felt Jenfeer's hands slide the
waistband down to my hips, and I rolled onto one asscheek and
then another to assist the girl in pulling the breeches over my
butt, down my thighs, and off my legs altogether. The rush of the
herbs and the awe inspiring vision of Jenfeer had caused my staff
to reawaken fully, and Jenfeer lightly wrapped her fingers around
it.
   I looked back over toward Jeara, and I saw that she too was
somewhat occupied.  Charel still knelt behind the seated floutist
and was rubbing her hand over Jeara's firm, silk-covered breasts.
Dark-haired Licia was lying alongside the sitting woman and was
rubbing underneath the hem of Jeara's robe; I could see the
movement of her hand outlined by the fabric at Jeara's thighs.
Licia's arm moved forward, and the lovely woman let loose with a
surprised run up the scale. Licia's hand obviously was pleasuring
my lover's mons.
   I felt a warm wetness at my own cock tip, and looked down to
see that Jenfeer now was laying on her stomach, with her long
legs stretched to the side and lovely blonde head in my lap. She
had taken just the cap of my manhood between her soft pink lips
and into her mouth, and was caressing it with inch-long movements
of her pursed lips. I tried to thrust myself further into the
magical wetness of her maw, but found it almost impossible to do
while sitting cross-legged with my hands unavailable to give me
leverage. As though sensing my helplessness, Jenfeer slowly took
my cock further inside her mouth, and sweet lips still gently
hugged the shaft with a steady stroking, her sylph-like neck
bowing and rising.
   I raised my head and trumpeted a few blast of my own ecstacy.
In doing so, my eyes caught a glimpse of white up through an
opening in the canopy of trees, and I realized that several
white-garbed women were watching us. Focussing on the spot, I
detected Lorena and Rebca watching Jeara and me from a corner of
a castle balcony, as I had heard them describe earlier inside the
castle garden. A further movement caught my eye, and I saw a
shock of red hair between the two lovelies.
   Princess Paleem! The King's only daughter was peeking at the
lascivious festivities as well. Her lovely hazel eyes gleamed as
she watched while huddled behind her servants. I pretended not to
see her, but broke off the chord changes I was exploring and cut
into a subtle but detectable version of the royal family's
official hymn. My gaze returned to her, and it took but a moment
for her to detect the theme and see me staring at her; her hand
rushed to her mouth as she came to the understanding that I had
seen and that the passage was a tribute to her. She started to
duck away, but Lorena and Rebca each grabbed an arm and pulled
her forward to the thigh-high wall at the edge of the balcony.
   My eyes remaining on the crimson-tressed princess, I permitted
the royal theme to fade from the air, and then segued to an
improvised story emulating that about which I had heard Paleem
fantasize in the garden. A sensitive but strong young man entered
the parlor of a woman - yes, the princess, identified by just a
snippet of the royal theme. Jeara, ever the master, picked up on
my tale and after a quick musical query - "a princess?" - and my
confirming, certain note - portrayed the princess herself. Our
notes slid together, as if my hands were sliding along the
princess' neck and down her shoulders. A throbbing rounded note
from Jeara's flute, and my pulsing strokes replied; Paleem
brought her young hands to the breast of her elegant white robe,
her firm hands pressing against her breasts.
   Lorena, who obviously was delighted that the princess whom she
served was becoming carried away, lightly rubbed her mistress'
ass.  In conjunction, I lowered the pitch of my stroking notes,
as though they were my own hands now which caressed her hips. The
princess dropped her hands to the lip of the low wall in front of
her and pulled her loins forward, pressing the swell of her mons
against the firm stone wall, trying to simultaneously suppress
and satisfy the lust obviously coursing through her.
   Jeara and I permitted the teasing to continue for awhile
longer, and then descended to a throaty, lustful melody. A major
chord, an almost dissonant minor chord - the princess could feel
her thighs being parted. A growing, throbbing, compelling bass
tone: I poised my manliness at the portals. A sliding, liquid
glissando followed, with Jeara's responding sharp, shrill retort
- almost as the breaking of a pot. I had entered! The princess'
mouth opened in delight and her hips pressed harder against the
wall.
   Throughout the ampitheatre, the randy couplings increased in
vigor, as baron and serving maid alike each strove for the climax
to which our music guided them. Wet slapping sounds of loins
against loins permeated the air. Jenfeer too was caught up in the
approaching crescendo, as she took my throbbing shaft further and
further into her mouth and up against the opening to her throat.
One of her hands was busy guiding my cock into her mouth; the
other was tucked underneath her prone body and was pleasuring her
own loins, which were churning against the ground. Licia had
pulled the hem of Jeara's robe up to her waist, and the vigorous
rubbing of the young girl's hand on the lust-inflamed labia of my
playing partner was completely visible.
   Our tempo now increased in pitch, as Jeara almost desperately
implored me to hasten the end. Amidst the grunts and moans of the
many fucking couples sprawled across the lawns, I heard no tell-
tale signs that any had yet reached their completion, as though
all were commanded to await our signal. While I felt that that
voracious, wet-lipped sucking of my hard prick by the beautiful
blonde Jenfeer could bring me off at any time, there was one
woman whose pleasure was utmost in my mind.
   I stared up again at the balcony, and could see Paleem's eyes
now were desperately clinging to my face, as though only I could
lead her to the goal that her shivering loins needed to attain
more than any prize she could imagine. A light obligato, and then
another - I teased my fantasy lover. Jeara responded with a plea
- no, a royal plea punctuated by the royal theme. I paused a
beat, then two...
   Then I let loose with heavy bass tones, pushing as much into
the instrument as my body would allow. Paleem's hips jerked from
an almost invisible invasion. Rebca slyly reached down and cupped
the princess' pussy mound through her thin robe, and I could
imagine her fingers probing and stroking in time to my sharp,
blasts. Paleem kept the girl's fingers pinned between her cunt
and the balcony wall. In my lap, Jenfeer's mouth increased the
urgency of its sucking, as though she could by commanding my own
orgasm force me to release her own. She now spoke, gaspingly, for
the first time since she'd joined me on stage: "Now, my love,
spend in me; I must taste your seed in my mouth!"
    Another plea from Jeara, and I almost laughed as I saw her
flushed face underneath her blindfold. A low-C blast, then D, and
F#. The drummer abandoned his left hand and pounded at the bass
drum along with my ascending, urgent tones.
   I glanced at the balcony; Paleem's hips pounded against the
wall and the relief offered by Rebca's selfless hand. My princess
paused, and then her body tensed and straightened, with small but
hurried jerks of her loins against Rebca's fingers. Her red hair
swirled around her face; her mouth opened and she visibly panted
in short gasps. Rebca suddenly grinned, looked down at me, and
nodded. Our princess was explodingly with pleasure.
   I clambered up the scale and signaled Jeara. She blew to all
the call of her own release in sharp, ecstatic cries. We ascended
together, and were joined by one, and another, and then almost
all of the barons and dukes and maids and serving wenches and
courtesans. The air was filled with cries and pleas and gasping
sighs. Jenfeer's muffled cry on my cock and scissoring thighs
told me that she too was achieving her release.
   I yearned to watch each salacious couple as I could tell from
the corner of my eyes that male seed was splashing into and onto
the spasming pussies and asses of almost every maiden. However,
my eyes were firmly affixed upon Paleem, tasting every moment of
her jerking orgasm, her face contorting in ecstacy at each sweet
spasm. As the contractions subsided, her eyes flew open and
immediately locked onto mine, in lust and gratitude. Now that we
were one, I let her share in my release. My jaw dropped dumbly in
a stupid grin, and I released the gates of my explosion,
surprising Jenfeer with a sudden spurt of seed into her slavering
mouth. The blonde maid moaned in delight, capturing each blast as
it shot along the length of her tongue. Paleem's tongue dropped
onto her own lower lip and her hand involuntarily came to her
chin, as though attempting to savor the acrid sweetness of my
spending cum.
  With one final blast of cacaphonous, atonal release, I dropped
the flute and grasped Jenfeer's head near the base of her blonde
braid. I guided the beauty's head further onto my spurting cock,
and she took the additional shots deep in her hungry mouth. My
emissions subsided, but Jenfeer continued to try to suction
additional seed from my overworked tip. Then, she worked her
tongue over the beads clinging to the slit at the end and around
the sides of the cap, lapping at each morsel of my manly residue.
   For two beats, the crowd remained silent, except for gasping
attempts to catch their breath. Then, all eyes focussed on the
stage, and a spontaneous ovation erupted. Cheers, whistles, and
shouted "Huzzahs" cascaded across the hillside. On the balcony,
Lorena and Rebca waved their arms and pumped their fists; Paleem
could only manage a weak grin as she leaned against the low wall,
her slender hips still swaying.
   I tried to bow my head modestly, but I could not suppress my
pleased grin. Jeara slyly pushed her blindfold up to expose one
eye; while wincing from the sudden light, she managed an
unambiguous wink as though from one victorious teammate to
another. The drunk Duke who had just ten minutes before been
wringing his hands in concern at the funereal cast of the
festival now jigged happily by himself, apparently oblivious to
the wet spot on the front of his trousers where he had spent
himself in his excitement.
   I knew that as of tonight my life had taken a sudden, new
turn. At the very least, I figured could enjoy a comfortable
living as a musician sponsored by some royal patron, and
certainly would be remembered fondly by most of the royalty
present. Beyond that, any of the young maids who had been the
beneficiaries of the lusty screwing which my duet with Jeara had
spawned might find a decidely appropriate way to express their
gratitude. Without a doubt, I had in a few short minutes placed
myself in the most enviable position imaginable.
   I turned my head back in the direction of Jeara to embrace her
within my good fortune, and a familiar color caught my eye.
Behind her, in the shadows, stood a man in a green cloak, a ruby
ring glistening at the hand that rested at his side. Only one eye
and the side of his face were visible, and only dimly at that. He
was staring at me in recognition and anger. From his glare and
the clenched set of his jaw, I knew that this stranger - the
mysterious assailant of the prime minister - had figured out that
I was the one who had come upon him in the midst of his attack.
  At that moment, I would not have bet a rusty brass halfcoin on
the value of my life.

                    SOLSTICE CASTLE PART X

  (In which our hero, teenaged orphan Jaze, seeking to find the
mysterious green-cloaked stranger who clubbed the Prime Minister
and stole some of the magical royal gemstones, finds himself a
guest at the royal's debauch-filled stag party. Having enjoyed
the combined favors of two nubile young cousins and peering at
Princess Paleem while trying to avoid the mysterious assailant,
Jaze, along with his flute instructor and lover, Madame Jeara,
have with their wild musical duet brought the fest to a wild,
orgiastic frenzy.)
[..I turned my head back in the direction of Jeara to embrace her
within my good fortune, and a familiar color caught my eye.
Behind her, in the shadows, stood a man in a green cloak, a ruby
ring glistening at the hand that rested at his side. Only one eye
and the side of his face were visible, and only dimly at that. He
was staring at me in recognition and anger. From his glare and
the clenched set of his jaw, I knew that this stranger - the
mysterious assailant of the prime minister - had figured out that
I was the one who had come upon him in the midst of his attack.
  At that moment, I would not have bet a rusty brass halfcoin on
the value of my life... (End of Part 9)]
--------------------
  Notwithstanding the palpable chill that trickled down my spine,
ill humor was difficult to maintain. Cheers still rang through
the crowd, and Charel and Licia had rushed over to hug me at
their excitement. In that they had been seeing to Madame Jeara's
pleasure during our mad, passion-inducing duet, the two nymphs
were not themselves the recipient of any lovemaking. They
insisted that I join them for a further lustful threesome which,
they assured me, would bring to me pleasure which I could only
hope to imagine. Pulling my breeches back over my hips, I
promised them that I soon would join them but was for the moment
somewhat disabled by my second spending of the night. With a
simultaneous glaring at the lovely Jenfeer, who still wore my
seed on her lips, the two cousins flounced off.
   I glanced up at the palace balcony on which Princess Paleem
had enjoyed what I sensed was her first orgasm at the hand of
another. I just glimpsed the back of the three young women's
heads as they left the balcony. After a moment, Queen Serjeen
herself appeared and glanced down at the grounds. Her eyes grew
wide at the site of the nobles and young maids wandering about in
various stages of undress. I can only surmise that until then she
- and most certainly the King - were unaware that the site could
be observed from the Princess' balcony. As she surveyed the
scene, the Queen's eyes locked onto mine. I good naturedly waved
my flute at her; she glowered back in mock anger as though to
say, I should have known you'd be at the center of all of this.
Shaking her head in disgust, Queen Serjeen left the balcony.
   Jeara and the musicians launched into another tune, a
sprightlier, simpler song, to maintain the general blissful air
of the party. Obviously, all of the nobles who had just
themselves reached their releases were even older than I and not
yet prepared to resume their lustful rutting. At Jeara's cue, I
added touches of harmony to the tunes, but did not purport to
further play as her equal. Jeara had by this point fully removed
her blindfold, which seemed to trouble no one. She seemed
genuinely flattered by the effect she'd had on the assembled
guests, and I caught her appraising a few of the more handsome
young members of the nobility, as well as a couple of the serving
wenches, as potential bedmates. I suppressed an unbidden sense of
jealousy and succeeded in feeling rather more pride and pleasure
that the fest was wresting her from the melancholy and grief of
the death of her husband so many months before.
   The serving maids bustled around bringing glasses of wine and
trays of chilled fruits and seasoned meats to the nobles, many of
whom could not seem to erase from their faces broad grins of
pleasure and not a little pride. I suspected that some of the
older dukes and counts had not performed so lustfully for many
years, but had managed to do so now with the assistance of the
pounding music.
   After several more tunes, I made sure my breeches were re-
fastened properly and wandered down by the pool to find some
refreshments. My transit was hampered by several smoke-impaired,
hearty nobles, each of whom clapped me on the back and allowed
how I was certainly the most promising of young musicians. One
even uttered to me in a loud, drunken whisper that he was
attempting to seduce the virtuous, beautiful young wife of one of
his knights and that he would make it worth my while to come play
another such lust-inducing tune at the scene of his next
contemplated assignation. I politely assured him that I would
with every expectation that the offer would be forgotten the next
morrow -- abetting the cuckolding of a knight was not a wise
man's action!
   I sat near the pond's edge and leaned against the sloping
grass hillside. Charel came over with a glass of deep ruby wine
and a pocket of spiced-meat pie and extended it reluctantly, her
pout still affixed to her face. Sardonically, she uttered, "Well,
milord, at least I can say that I enjoyed the skills of your lips
before the rest of the crowd."
   I tried to bow from a sitting position in what I hoped was a
decent imitation of a gentleman. "My sweet, fair-haired maiden, I
would much rather try to create music at your vessel than with
even the greatest of orchestras."
  Charel rolled her eyes in knowing disdain. "Oh, I see you have
been working in the stables as well, for you seem to have brought
their most prolific product with you." Still, she gave me a
lovely if measured smile for my willingness to at least attempt
to mollify her, and walked away to continue her serving duties.
   "Here, here, good Jaze! What a festival you have made it!" I
looked up dreamily into the reddened face of Prince Phrenshraw,
who clearly was several glasses of wine ahead of me. On each arm
was a maiden of astonishing beauty; obviously, the crown prince
was entitled to favors which were not to be shared with just any
noble. The tall, serene brunette on his far arm projected a
stunning elegance, and I realized that her visage was not unlike
that of Queen Serjeen; with a mother of such beauty, any
fascination that the prince might have toward a lookalike was
unsurprising.
   Phrenshraw added, "For enhancing the revels, you have the
gratitude of my family, particularly my father, who most
benefitted from the inspiration -- or perhaps it is you who
really benefitted, Onassa." He leered at the brunette to his
right, who blushed and looked down. I tried to suppress my
astonishment; the King himself was freely trysting with the maids
on this evening. My guilt at my limited, but - technically -
consummated coupling with the Queen the preceding evening abated
considerably. The honey-haired, younger maid on his near arm
giggled modestly, which gave me an excuse to stare at her own
stunning features. She bore the slimness of Charel but was
taller, with even more electrifyingly gorgeous features. Her
small, narrow face with its huge brown eyes and bow-like mouth
entranced me.
   "My father would like to thank you himself," said Phrenshraw
with a slight slur, directed more into the Onassa's neck, which
he then was nuzzling, then toward me. "Auria here will escort
you." He motioned toward the honey-haired stunner; she bowed
engagingly.
    Without waiting for a response, the Prince and Onassa
staggered off, leaving me with Auria. She turned slightly,
indicating with her eyes the tent on the far side of the pool
from the stage, but I remain transfixed by her dark eyes. She
laughed - oh could any musician hope to replicate that laugh- and
held out her hand for me to take. The low fold of her simple,
spare gown revealed under her outstretched arm much of her firm
right breast. Notwithstanding my assertions to Charel and Licia
just a few moments before of my inability to resume any
lovemaking, I felt a thick lurch at my loins.
   Shaking my head to clear it, I held out my arm for her to
take, and we slowly walked around the pool, obstructed by
groupings of nobles and maidens, who slowly were beginning to
resume some of their libidinous activities. Just before we
reached the tent, Auria stopped me and turned to me, again
capturing me with her large brown eyes. (Yes, gentle reader, I
know I repeat myself in waxing rhapsodic about those ebony
windows into her soul, but you would as well if you had come
under their spell.)
   Her voice was high, like a nightingale's song. "Milord Jaze? I
too hope to be a musician, and have had some training from the
castle musicians in the hope of being able to bring some pleasure
to the royal family when they desire a simple tune. But, to be
able to tell a tale of wonder as you were able - and to play with
Madame Jeara - that is beyond their capacity to teach." She
tentatively placed her hands on my chest, then drew them up
behind my neck. "I could arrange for you to come into the castle
to give me lessons, privately... if..." she hesitated, "if you
would be willing to do so."
   How could I conceivably have turned down such a request? "I
would be delighted, milady, if it pleases the royal family." Her
eyes widened with glee, and, I tell you, bringing joy to such a
face sends flocks of doves aloft in one's soul. She impetuously
pulled my face to hers and bussed me warmly. While I expect she
intended the kiss to be one of gratitude, she complained not when
I sustained it and placed my hands on her waist. Our lips remain
locked and her sweet tongue darted forward toward mine. As they
darted and duelled, my hands cupped her slim, firm ass and
lightly pressed her to me, such that she could feel my re-
awakening member pressed against the flatness of your stomach.
She groaned - and not unhappily - and pulled her face back
breathlessly. "Well, I guess perhaps our lessons might be more
encompassing than I expected," she whispered. She looked up at me
and smiled shyly. "I suppose those are among the sacrifices a
musician is expected to make to learn her craft." She paused and
slid her long-fingered hand between our bodies and pressed it
over my bulging trousers. Her face clouded briefly in surprise,
and then pleasure, as her fingers measured me. "Yes, I will
arrange for those lessons to begin very, very soon." She quickly
kissed me again and pushed me up the steps to the opening of the
large, colorful tent in which the King awaited, gesturing to the
guards to allow me inside.
   The older of the two guards whirled and stuck his head inside
the flap which now covered the entrance, apparently to announce
me. He pulled his head out, now with a rather shocked look on his
face. He conferred briefly with his partner and shrugged, then
asked me my name. Turning back toward the flap, but not
entering,the guard intoned, "Master Jaze of Speysard!" He pulled
the flap aside and motioned me to hurry in. I lowered my head and
stepped inside.
   Words can hardly do justice to the scene in the royal tent.
Though only perhaps six paces on a side, the tent was full of
just about everything a sybarite - nay, a satyr - could desire.
Near the entrance of low tables were flagons of heavenly smelling
wines and victuals of every description. Several small pipes of
the aphrodisiac herbs which I had described before - the
ingestion of which is normally rigidly controlled by priests for
newlyweds to insure a successful consummation of their marriages
- were strewn across several tables. Three pipes remained lit and
I could sense that, merely by remaining in the room, one would
within ten minutes begin rutting like a bull.
   Around the center and the back of the tent were various silken
pillows of assorted sizes and shapes, most in various hues of
red. Some were almost as couches or mattresses. Several flutes
and a lyre lay near one side of the tent. Littered near the door
were various official looking documents; apparently the King had
been attempting to conduct some business before the fest began.
   In the center of all of this was the King, slightly overweight
but otherwise heavily muscled and thick necked. He was as naked
as at his birth, sprawled on his back against several pillows.
His eyes were closed, but he clearly was awake, but not entirely
conscious. Three nude, slim beauties with long, straight blonde
hair were attending to him. One knelt on each side of him, while
the third was sprawled on a pillow above his head. All three were
rubbing his head, torso and neck, almost as though they were
trying to revive him. I could not help but notice that his royal
member dangled somewhat limply at his groin, notwithstanding the
ardor of the trio's ministrations.
   One of the kneeling girls turned to me and smiled, without
interrupting her stroking of the king's neck and dark beard. Her
bright, almost translucent blue eyes peered at me. The other
girls looked up as well, and I realized even in the dim light of
the tent that the three were identical to one another. They must
be triplets! Their slim hips and barely budding breasts suggested
that they were mere youngsters, no older than thirteen. The first
girl greeted me, "Hello, young minstrel," and I detected from her
husky contralto that no matter how young the girls appeared, they
might well be my own age of seventeen years. Still,
notwithstanding my own prejudices against against taking
advantage of girls of tender years, the sudden blossoming of my
own crotch forced me to admit that the girls' appearance appealed
to some deep-harbored fantasy suppressed only out of a desire to
avoid harm to such maidens' immature emotions and bodies. Such a
fantasy obviously had at least as great an appeal to King Abred.
   The King sensed the diversion of the girls' attention, and his
eyes snapped open. "The mighty flute player appears," he intoned
with the raspiness that comes from drink and smoke. "These girls
are mad at you, you know. Your little tune with Madame Jeara got
me so worked up that that little brunette, Ona... whatever,
drained me entirely. That was quite a tapestry you two weaved.
Recall that once I too was a young prince rushing off to lead an
army into battle, and the story of the soldier's return to his
lover drew strong memories from me." I was astonished that the
King, in his drunkenness, still was perceptive enough to pick up
on the storyline. He went on, "It's too early for the party to
end, but I don't seem to have much left for this lithesome trio."
He clumsily hugged the two kneeling blondes.
   My astonishment at seeing my King in such a state and my
respect for the majesty of his position bid me to hold my
tongue's suggestion that perhaps his ingestion of wine was at
greater fault. I stared dumbly.
   "So, little flute player, I was hoping that you could find
another tune that would be equally inspiring. We would be
grateful..." His dark-browed eyes were almost pleading with me.
Surely my life had changed in the past two days! I nodded.
   "Of course, Your Majesty. I live only to serve you and your
family. Of what tale should I play?"
   Abred frowned. "Hell if I know. You've got three luscious
young girls here - you ought to be able to think of something."
   I scowled in thought, little wishing to tell the King that the
girls' youthful appearance brought to mind little more than
nursery rhymes, however delectable they might be.
   The first of the kneeling maids walked over to me on her
knees, her unsteadiness betraying her own ingestion of the lust
inducing pipe. She stopped in front of me with a crooked grin and
reached up to place a hand on my bare chest. A small finger
serpentined down my sternum to the top of my breeches. Her hot
breath against my loins re-stiffened my slumbering cock, and she
smiled as she detected her impact on me. She looked up with a
winsome, albeit crooked grin. "I am Helia. Perhaps I can inspire
you, milord?" She pursed her lips and leaned forward, her kiss
landing squarely in my navel. She extended her tongue and probed
at the indentation, and then swirled it around the edges. She
lowered her head slightly and liquidly flicked sideways, back and
forth, on the light fuzz above my beltline that ran from navel to
the top of the thicker hair covering my pubic region. I could not
help but think that this fuzz appeared thicker than the soft down
that I could see guarding the maiden's mons.
   Of an instant, a thought came to mind, just as the girl's
tongue reached my breeches and began to trace the outline of my
stiff member beneath the fabric. "Your majesty!" I managed to
blurt. Helia giggled at my discomfort, and continued her torture.
"Do you enjoy the sea, the mysteries it might unfold?"
   The King's eyebrows rose. "Why yes. Very much. When I was a
lad, swimming in the inlets below the castle here was one of the
few pleasures permitted me where I was not surrounded by our
family's usual retinue of governesses, guards and ministers. I
always fantasized about meeting someone new, different."
   I reached down and cupped Helia's chin, drawing her to her
feet. She arched her eyebrows in anticipation of my own approach
to her and pressed her slender frame against me, her lips
nuzzling at my cheek. "No, no," I whispered to her, "I am not the
sort who dallies with the King's maidens. This is what I envision
for you." I then told her of the scenario I'd conjured up. She
giggled and nodded, and rushed over to her sisters, pulling them
out of earshot of the King. She whispered to them, drawing
giggles from all three, and then they scampered back to their
original positions around the King, but did not touch him. He
looked at me questioningly. I picked up the most promising of the
flutes nearby, and, after running an experimental scale to insure
its adequacy for my needs, began to play...

   I play first of the sea, of a warm day with waves crashing,
and a lad, powerful but unworldly, who has slipped away from the
castle and now splashes in the surf. The waves crash and pound,
and the lad - identified by a royal riff as the young prince -
savors the privacy and sensual refreshment of the sea. As the
King closes his eyes to drink in the setting, the blonde girls
flick their hair over his thighs to mimic the splash of the surf.
With growing tension, a monstrous wave crests, and the girls
rise, their long locks rising together up his torso and over his
shoulders and head, which jerks in panic.
   A lilting, piercing melody of beauty intertwined with the sea
interrupts the lethal chaos of the drowning surf. The water has
not subsided, but the lad begins to relax. The King's eyes open
to slits. He sees three sea maidens, long blonde hair flowing,
surrounding him, welcoming him to their lair and safety. I catch
the eye of one of Helia's sisters and nod my head toward one of
the burning pipes. All three lean over and draw from the stem
heavily, and lean over the waiting King. In turn, each presses
their lips to his slack mouth and breathe life - air and fantasy
- into his waiting lungs.
   My music becomes less necessary as the intoxicating herbs take
hold and transport the three to the sea floor. I lower volume and
pitch, as the quartet descends, the pounding surf above barely
detectable in the silent sea. The girls swim over the lad, all
four with tongues extended savoring the flavors of their flesh.
As the loins of any one maiden nears the King's head, his lips
descend upon her nearly hairless labia, and his tongue works its
way inside, drawing tranquil screams from the girl. Hands and
legs remain in motion, squirming over one another.
   I duck my head to one side and see that the King's member has
returned to a stiffened state, and lower my tone to a lustful,
earthy state. As one, the three girls plant their lips on the
King's chest, and slowly work their slavering mouths ever lower
on his torso, tonguing at his hip bone and outer thighs. As
though directed by an architect, the three find themselves
sprawled before him on their stomachs in a star design, two
stretched to either side of him and one with her feet pointing
directly away. The identical, golden heads of the triplets point
toward his groin, their breaths ruffling his dark pubic hairs.
    With a thick, spine-clenching tone, I signal their advance,
and the maidens' tongues and mouths travel up the King's thigh,
their tongue tips tickling lightly at his balls and shaft. I
raise the pitch slightly, and their exertions increase. With a
steady throaty cadence, I lure the mouths of the two blondes
splayed to the sides to clamp onto the side of the broad cudgel.
The King's hips begin to jerk up and down this sleeve created by
the suctioning mouths. Up and down they ride, almost meeting
around the side. The third sister awaits her role as the King
jerks and lunges; she is content to lightly rub his thighs and
dangling pink balls. His breath grows harsher and his eyes clench
shut, and I can see that in his mind's eye the fantasy is much
more vivid than I could have designed. His hands rub up and down
the slim backs of the two nymphs stretched out beside him,
stopping to stroke and clench their long, yellow hair.
    I increase the tempo and add a major chord, and the third
sister - I am amost sure it's Helia, although I've lost track of
the girls' original placement in the midst of their contortions -
finally brings her head forward, lips slightly parted. As her
soft pink lips reach and lightly brush the tip of the King's
tortured organ, his hips rise off the silk pillows beneath him
and drive his cock halfway into her mouth. I can barely make out
his length, as his lap is obscured by the pale blonde hair fanned
out over it. Yet, with the sounds of sucking and slurping and the
bobbing of the middle lass' head, I can tell he is receiving
constant, torturous oral attention.
   I maintain the pace as it is. Satisfied that the participants
are fully occupied in their oral attentions, I step carefully
around the room, peering at the papers scattered about, looking
for any information that might assist in identifying the
mysterious assailant or the Drofnats clan that appears to be
behind the plot. Most seem to relate to innocuous awards of
franchises or concessions, and I am almost ready to give up,
particularly in that the King's huffing and wailing seems to
signal an impending climax.
   Kicking aside a decree governing disposal of animal wastes, I
see underneath an undersized sheet of paper with a more casual
scrawl than appeared on the more formal documents. I can barely
make out the words, which appear to say:

     "Apprs. legitimate heir not all dead. Not
     enough jwls. to be sure. All holders must
     concur, but expect trouble from church and
     gyps. TN"

I read the message over twice more to commit it to memory, trying
at the same time to not lose sight of the simple tune I am
playing so as to keep the King's lurching loins from flagging.
  As he starts to bellow, I kick the animal feces decree back on
top of the mysterious note and start to blow with full force.
Looking back on the lustful foursome, I see the King's hips madly
pumping off the cushions, the tip of his stiff cock driving all
the way into Helia's throat, and then pulling away with a loud
suction. The lips of her sisters remain attached to the sides of
his driving shaft.
  With the crashing of the surf on my flute, the King roars again
and his hips jerk up and lock in  place, his ass a foot off of
the pillows. Helia's eyes open in schock and she moans liquidly
in gleeful surprise as the first jets of his sperm reach her
young mouth. The second blast obviously overflows the capacity of
her small maw, as a river of semen pulses from the corner of her
mouth. She quickly pulls her mouth off, clamping her cum-spotted
lips together, and directs the spurting tip to the mouth of her
nearest sister, who eagerly capures it and drinks in his essence,
while Helia continues to milk him with small fingers.  As the
mouth of the second blonde vixen also overflows with the stream
of the royal emission, she in turn passes the cudgel to her
remaining sister, who takes the King deep into her throat,
meeting Helia's hand where it clutches the base of the thick rod.
Sister No. 3 finishes the job, swallowing the cream that the King
deposits, then licking at the final drops of cum that bead at the
tip.
   With two more jerks, the King's hips dropped to the pillowed
floor with a muffled plop. His breathing was labored, but he
smiled. His eyes cracked open and he gazed almost lovingly at the
cum-spotted faces of his three identical attendants. "Thought
your King was too old for a second go-round, didn't you?" he
laughed. "We never had a doubt for a moment, Your Majesty,"
chirped Helia unconvincingly.
   Finally, the King looked over at me, suddenly remembering my
presence. He said, "We'll have to find something to do with you
in the castle, young man. You obviously have some uses. God
forbid that you should ever play such tunes around my daughter,
though. If she's got any of the wanton insatiableness of her
mother she wouldn't have a chance of resisting you... and then of
course I'd have to have you killed."


                     SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 11
   I staggered from the King's pavilion with his admonition
against any seduction of his sole daughter ringing in my ear.
Staggered is perhaps the most apt word to convey my physical and
emotional state, for in one evening I had been feted and
condemned by the King and dozens of nobles, seen the King and a
Princess in the throes of sexual ecstacy, and been offered the
sexual favors of the Queen. And - with all this -  my overriding
concern had to remain the mysterious green-cloaked assailant,
presumably the "TN" of the note on which I'd stumbled while in
the King's tent. This conspirator clearly would as readily see me
dead as flick a gnat from his sleeve.
    Thus, the reader should not be surprised that I was exhausted
beyond all powers of revival when I returned to the fest. The
partygoers also were obviously feeling the effects of wine,
drugged herbs, and rampant sexual congress, as many seemed
debilitated as well. I saw more than a few handmaidens stifle a
yawn as they served exotic coffees to the assembled nobles.
Madame Jeara was no longer in sight - but, then again, neither
were two of the younger, more handsome members of the King's
small orchestra with whom she played. I could only speculate if
there were any connection between these disappearances.
    Feeling that I could learn no more to aid my investigation
into the cabal behind the attack on the prime minister, I took my
leave of the party, stopping briefly to soundly kiss both Charel
and Licia, the two cousins whose greeting had commenced my stay
at the fest, and waved at the winsome Jenfeer, who smiled warmly
at me from though she was pinned in place by a sleeping older
Baron whose head was resting in her lap.
    The cool air off the harbor cleared my head some as I walked
along the sea wall near the docks on my return to the monastery
where I made my home with the monks. The puzzle flew through my
head. Why had King Abred received a note from somone who may well
have been launching a society of traitors to undermine his own
rule? Was he a sponsor or victim of their scheme? What function
did the jewels have? Clearly the conspirators needed other of the
jewels to carry out the unknown but  nefarious purposes for which
they were designed, and some gypsy woman was at the heart of the
quest. What would be their next step?
     I stumbled back to the monastery and was asleep as soon as I
lay back on the pallet in my small cell. I was awakened by Bedray's
pounding on the door to my cell, and I sleepily hurried through my
morning ablutions and proceeded to the kitchen to help him prepare
breakfast. His grizzled features eyed me warily as I sleep-walked
through my chores. On several occasions during the morning, he
seemed on the verge of giving me some advice but, as I was leaving
at the conclusion of our cleaning of the breakfast dishes, he merely
tousled my hair, and advised me to be careful.
    I tidied myself further and headed to the laundry run by
Lindea and her father, out of a hope that they might be able to
tell me the significance of the stones targeted by the thug who
had pummelled the prime minister. When I arrived at the
rough-hewn structure in which it was located, the front door was
almost completely closed, but I could hear wailing coming from
inside. I stuck my head inside the door, where I saw Lindea's
father, Migeal, pacing the floor, his hands gesticulating in the
steamy inside air. "I can't believe they have taken her," he
cried to the three middle-aged gypsy women who surrounded him in
simple black chairs, their hands wringing their brightly colored
scarves each had affixed to the sleeve of her blouse.. "We have
been the most loyal of gypsy families and have taken care of the
King's laundry every summer for fifteen years with total loyalty.
What could we have done to earn such a tragedy??!"
    Suddenly, Migeal espied me peeking in the door and rushed
over to me. "You!", he shouted. I looked around, ready to bolt.
Was this hysterical man somehow going to accuse me of some wrong?
"Master Jaze," he cried, rushing over to me and grabbing my hands
between his soap-chapped hands. He pleaded with his bushy-browed
eyes. "My Lindea has been taken away by the King's elite guards!
She told me she had seen you in the castle. Perhaps you know
someone there who can find out why they have taken her."
    I wrestled my hands away, protesting that I knew no one at
the castle and was merely there on a delivery. I then paused.
"I'm curious. Were the guards who took her - did they look like
they were from the Drofnats clan?"
    A gleam of realization finally slowed the shaking man. "Why,
now that you say this, I think that this is so - the hawk noses
and brittle jaw lines were all like those of the Drofnats.. Is
that important?"
    I hesitated, not wishing to give too much hope to the
distraught man. "It might. I doubt if I can do anything, but
maybe a priest might know." I nodded politely to the sitting
women and rushed away before Migeal could press me for further
information.
    If Lindea had been taken by the conspirators, they must
indeed have some need of the gypsies to fulfill the function of
the jewels. But why the beautiful, dark-eyed Lindea? Was she in
fact the exiled gypsy queen that she claimed? The answer lay
somewhere back in the castle, to which I had no reason to think I
could gain further access. Or perhaps I did.
    I raced back to the monastery and plucked my flute from my
cell, then raced to the gates of Solstice Castle. I waited until
I spotted a guard whom I recognized from the previous night's fest.
After a brief explanation, he recalled me. I then told him that
Auria, one of the King's concubines (well, I actually called her a
maidservant), who had enjoyed my playing had asked me to come
around and serenade her, but I had no clue as to which window
might be hers.
      The husky guard's eyes laughed in didain. "Oh, and a
mongrel street boy such as you is going to woo the heart of one
of  the King's ... er, favorites with his flute. Be gone with
you, you insolent whelp. You'll not disturb the palace's peace
with your whistle, even if the young lady could hear you from her
room, unless you wanted to have the carriage horses accompany
you. Be off, now!" He swung a lazy attempt at  cuffing at me,
which I easily ducked, and then I scampered away with a
disappointed look. While I hadn't received much cooperation, the
guard had at least disclosed a general area of which part of the
castle the honey-haired Auria resided in.
     I tucked the flute into the sash that encircled my waist and
went round to the gate leading to the stable. I waited just out
of sight of the guards there. After a few minutes, I saw the
butcher's small wagon come into view, obviously with a delivery
to the kitchens in the castle. As it clattered past, I dashed
from behind and sprinted along behind in a deep crouch, so that
the wagon would hide me from the guards. As they stopped the
butcher, I dove underneath the wagon, grabbing the front axle
with my hands and locking my ankles over the rear axle. As the
cart continued through the gate, I made body as rigid as
possible, pressing it up against the underside of the wagon's
bed. Only after we rounded a bend away from the gate could I
permit my body to relax. As we pulled past some bushes some
fifteen feet from the castle, I dropped my feet and silently
slipped to the ground, then rolled to the side of the path.
    After several servants passed by, I looked up to the
overhanging windows and spotted some likely-looking rooms. I
stepped out onto the path and began to play my flute softly, of a
honey-haired enchantress who had won the heart of a brave but
humble warrior, conveying the hair color of the beautiful woman
by interspersing her lush description of a beautiful maid
with the buzzing sounds of honeybees!)
    On the lower floors, several disheveled heads of scullery
maids peered out the windows at me in astonishment. Breaking off
from my tune, assured them that the King had ordered a minstrel
to play as a reward for the commendable efforts of the hardworking
kitchen and cleaning staffs. The round-faced women looked at me
dubiously, but were willing to accept the truth of my words,
for their back-breaking efforts certainly were deserving of that
much attention, and far more. Besides, if I did not belong, I
should not have been permitted within the gates. They opened their
window a bit further and returned to their labors.
    Finally, a dark-haired vision popped up in one of the higher
windows: the stunning Onassa. "What brings you here, little flute
player?" she called.
    "I have come to offer my tunes to your comrade in arms:
Milady Auria."  Onassa started to giggle at my double entendre. "A
serenade
for a concubine? We're usually not accorded such seductions."
    "Not exactly. She had asked if I might provide her some
lessons with the flute."
    "We do not usually expect to have tradesmen soliciting for
their services within the castle walls. I think the guards must
be receiving a portion of your wages to permit such." I looked
around quickly but saw no guard. Onassa smiled. "Ahhhh, you are
not here under even a guard's concession. Well, I will beckon the
aspiring flutist, but I don't expect that she'll wish to risk her
lot with a clandestine lesson from a scruffy sort such as you."
    She left the window, and I crouched back behind the thick
bushes, anxiously. This entry was taking longer than I had hoped,
and, while the focus of the guards was presumably at the gates to
deny entry altogether, it could only be expected that they would
have at least some patrols on the grounds.
    After an eternity, Auria's golden head popped out the window,
just as two garden tenders walked by, forcing me to remain
hidden. Auria leaned out further to search, and I could see that,
at least from the chest and upwards portion of her body which was
visible to me, she was clad only in a green towel loosely wrapped
around her torso, held in place by her hands. Just as she turned
her head back inside, obviously to inquire from Onassa about her
caller, I stepped from the bushes.
    Auria's huge brown eyes grew even larger in surprise, and she
squealed, clasping her hands to her lips. The towel immediately
slipped from its position, baring her breasts. Ah,  soft and full
they were, not so large or taut as, say, Lorena's, but
magnificently shaped and capped with lightpink nipples - a
perfect soft shape that cried out to surrender to a man's sucking
mouth. Auria squealed again - engagingly so, I should add - and
reached down to pick up the towel. Two female hands - Onassa's -
reached around the honey blonde from behind and held her wrists.
The darker-haired girl's head popped up over Auria's shoulder.
     Onassa grinned. "The young man has come up here and braved
the guards just to play for you,Auria. Don't you think he's
entitled to some entertainment in return?"
     Auria giggled, squirming to at least cover her chest with
her upper arms and elbows butsucceeding only in pushing her
mounds together, her nipples peeking out at me impudently.
"Milady Auria," I called up in a stage whisper, "I have come
to give you the lesson you demanded, if you would have it."
    Auria's smile widened, but she paused in thought. "Well....,"
she said slowly, "I was about to practice, so I do not suppose
anyone should be too upset if an instructor is with me. But, if
you get thrown out, that will be your own affair."
    "And well worth such a risk and more," I countered, bowing
gracefully. Onassa released her hands, and Auria suddenly leaned
forward, her hands resting wide on the sill, fully exposing her
upper torso to me.
    "Alright, we'll bring you up through the kitchen, but I
wouldn't want you to get any ideas about stealing the silver ...
or anything." With that, Auria's smile broadened and she coyly
rotated her shoulders, cause her taut breasts to shake at me.
 My jaw dropped,and Auria turned away from the window with a laugh.
    I scuttled over to the back entrance to the kitchen. A heavy
old scullery maid, red-faced and covered with flour, walked out a
few minutes later. She peered at me suspiciously, but dimly."You
the new music teacher?" I nodded. "Yeah, well Mistress Onassa sez
I'm to bring you up to the music room by servant's stairs.
Looking at ya, all scruffy hair, I guess I can see why they don't
want you comin' in the front way. C'mon."
     With that, I followed her wide ass in past the huge kitchen
and heavily stocked pantry to a narrow stairway, and walked up
three flights of stairs. The old servant was huffing as she got
to the top. We went through a side door out into a magnificent
hallway. I quickly looked around,trying to get my bearings to see
if I could find a safe route by which I could reach Lorena's
chamber. If  I could, she could probably pass a message to the
queen to see if we might find out where Lindea was being held by
the assailant, "TN".  No guideposts came into view.  We stopped
in front of ornate double doors.  "Whatya lookin' for, young whelp?"
The fat servant's florid face eyed me suspiciously.
     "Oh, just remembering some happier days when I was here
before." Her brow creased in confusion; I expected a bead of
sweat to pop out, so unused did she seem to the exertion of
thought. "Oh, yes, "I was here last year visiting my cousin Lorena,
Princess Paleem's lady in waiting. Perhaps you know her - her room I
believe is over in the other wing. Big oak door, lots of reddish
pillows," I added, describing the room from my visit two nights
previously. The servant nodded slowly. "Tell you, what, if you would
tell dear Lorena that Cousin Jaze is here in the music room, perhaps
she might be free to stop by and offer a greeting."  Again, the servant
paused. "She and I just love to chat - oh, about life in the
castle, and we talk about what she thinks of the various members of
the castle staff." I gave the pudgy woman a measured, firm stare. She
started,and her wrinkled features softened. "I'd be pleased to pass
along to her my views of your own fine service."
    "Well, I have my duties in the kitchen to attend to; we'll
see," she said abrubtly. She nodded toward the open doors, and
then turned on her heel and headed back to the stairs..
    I stepped through into a large music room, dominated by a
huge piano resting at the far end of the room on the
light-colored, hardwood floors. Auria, now dressed in a simple,
short yellow gown stood inside the door, flute in hand, waiting
for me. She smiled shyly.
    "I am pleased that you have come back to give me my lesson,
Master Jaze. I would give most anything to be able to exert the
skill that you displayed last night. But, I fear that the room's
echos are too harsh for our playing. We have a smaller waiting
room for visiting performers that might be more apt. Here, come
with me." Auria turned and led me across the room to a dark door.
I stumbled dumbly after, entranced by her bewitching ass.
     We walked into a small chamber, some four paces square. At
one end sat a heavy overstuffed couch. On the floor was a thick
round rag rug. Opposite the couch were a series of shelves
holding various small musical instruments. Air and light came
through two small windows looking out into an airshaft.
     We sat on the couch to commence the lesson. I realized that
if we started playing we increased the risk that an official
passer-by might question my being there. So, I stalled, starting
by examining the grip by which Auria held her flute, taking every
opportunity to reach around her and touch her soft hands with my
own. She smiled and glanced over at me frequently. I then reviewed
her playing posture, pressing her waist and hips frequently, even
though she really had no defect in her posture. Playfully, I
pretended to try different positions for her, contradicting prior
instructions. Again, she giggled, squirming away from me.
     I asked her to show me her embouchure - the formation of her
lips against the intake hole of the flute's mouthpiece. She
pursed them with the requisite overbite, and I again gave her
unnecessary instruction, showing her my technique on my own
flute. She protested, "That's exactly what I'm doing, see?"
Again, she demonstrated perfect form.
    "No, I think you're still not seeing it correctly from your
side." Rather than face her, I slid tightly up next to her, my
thigh pressing firmly against her own. I held her flute with my
hands next to hers, and pulled the mouthpiece to my lips. "Now
put your cheek against mine so you cansee exactly what I do." She
did so, and I softly uttered a clean, low tone. Passing the
mouthpiece to her mouth, I instructed, "Now you." She blew, with
the same clear pitch and tone. "Let's do it again." I blew one
note higher, and passed the instrument to her.
    Back and forth we traded, with the pass of the flute
occurring with increasing speed. Soon, it became a game, and our
lips grew closer together. Finally, we became jumbled, and our
lips reached for the single mouthpiece together -- and I dropped
the mouthpiece as our lips met one another, pressing firmly.
   Such softness! Oh, if the flowers could know such softness!
Her lips melted into mine with the liquid gentleness of a dove's
dream. Our lips clung, and then crept open, as our young tongues
escaped to find one another, and play, and tickle, and sweetly
sweep across each other.
     My arm rose and rested on her far shoulder as we turned to
face one another on the soft couch. My hand explored the swirl of
her neck, then slid down her firm back. She moaned into my mouth,
and her hand reached up to clutch the back of my head to pull my
face tighter against her. Her lips pulled away, her eyes devilishly
searched my own. "Well," she said breathily, "is it true?"
     "Is what true?"
     "Is Charel telling the truth when she says you are endowed
like one of the King's stallions?"
     I blanched in shock. "Charel told you this?"
     "Most certainly. We women of the royal entourage have a
great deal of time on our hands and not infrequently compare the
attributes of those we are called upon to serve. She was quite
complimentary about you."
     My white face reddened. I stood up quickly. "It sounds as
though you're comparing the attributes of a radish, or maybe a market
hog." I was not sure I was mad, but felt I had a right to be.
     "Oh, I've angered you." She looked up at me, and stared down
at my loins, now just in front of her. Her hand reached up and
lightly pressed her open palm against the lump jutting forth. I
had hardly realized that the entrancing beauty had overwhelmed my
lustful desires.  She smiled and went on. "And I seem to have
angered him, as well; poor sweet thing," she cooed. Her soft,
full lips moved forward against my fabric-covered loins, pressing
against the swell of my burgeoning cock just below the head.
     I looked down at her sitting in front of me, her honey
blonde hair framing her stunning features. The open gather of the
neck of her blouse as she leaned to me exposed almost all of her
magnificent titflesh. Her lips pulled away briefly, and then
again pursed against my breeches, kissing the cloth and the shaft
beneath with tender attention.
     Sitting up, Auria now slid the strap of her gown from her
right shoulder, pulling it down herarm, until the yellow bodice
descended below one pear-shaped breast. Again I goggled at the
fresh, almost innocent swelling of her soft bosom. Auria's finger
traced an outline of my cock with tantalizing care, and then she
looked up at me, her brown eyes again wrenching conscious thought
from me. Her voice became husky. "Would you like me to make amends,
my well-hung friend? To offer my apologies?" I was speechless.
     Without taking her eyes from mine, her hands reached for the
buttons descending just below my waistband.They quickly came
undone, and she reached inside and lightly curled her fingers
around my heated stiff rod. She pulled the heavy flesh out
through the opening, my red tip bobbing just inches from her
luscious mouth. Auria wrapped her fist around it, allowing only
the tip to appear above her hand. Auria's eyes widened and for
the first time lowered to cast their gaze upon my sex. Her lips
parted in surprise. Her hand gently measured my length by
strokingthe loose flesh up and down.
      "Astonishing!" she hissed. "I think making amends may be
more of a task than I imagined. But a pleasant task indeed." With
that, she again fixed her eyes upon me, and leaned forward,
opening her tender lips slightly. She permitted my swollen cock
tip to drop gently on her tongue,and I could see the first drop
of pre-cum affix itself to its floor. The sweet lapper then drew
back to the very end of my member, and then the two tips met,
with her tongue endeavoring to probe inside the small slit at the
end of my own. She hastened the pace of her hand's stroking,
drawing out more of my leaking seed, which descended onto the
tongue in a white string. Her eyes smiled even more warmly than
before up at mine.
     She stopped her stroking with her hand resting around the
fleshy collar at the neck of my engorged cock, and then her lips
captured the entire reddish helmet underneath her upper lip. My
tip soaked passively in the wet furnace of her mouth, until she
drew her cheeks in, sucking outfurther of the pre-cum. Her eyes
closed only briefly as I saw her adam's apple bob, denoting her
swallowing of my anticipatory essence. The brown orbs then
re-focused upon my face with adevilish hint of surprises to come.
    Her face moved forward slowly until her lips reached the end
of her grasping hand. Then, both moved forward slowly, as she
drew more and more of the thick, hard shaft into her mouth.In it
went, and I expected at each instant that she would stop her
capturing progress, but she continued to bore on further. I
shuddered at the sensation of each succeeding inch being caressed
by her soft lips. Her hand reached the base of my cock, but her
head continued forward, while her hand flattened against my belly
to give her mouth passage. I felt the tip scrape against the back
of the roof of her mouth, and then probe at the opening to her
throat, with several inches remaining outside of her sucking pink
lips. With unwavering gaze upon my flushed features, she
continued on,as I felt my tender cocktip enter her throat without
pause or panic by her. With a wet smack, her throat absorbed even
more, until I had given the beautiful vixen all of my length and
her nose was pressed into my belly.
    After at least five counts of the clock, she finally,
reluctantly drew her mouth back - again with maddening slowness -
clinging lips squeezing at my blue-veined flesh at each stage.
She stopped her ascent with the tip again soaking in her sweet
mouth. Her face darted back forward, now quickly garnering my
cock's head with her throat, and again incarcerating her prisoner
for at least a five-count, before withdrawing.
     No man could remain impassive during such ministrations by
one with the beauty and incredible skill of the stunning Auria. I
began to anticipate her movements, and lightly thrust my loins
forward. She took me easily down into her throat. I jerked
forward some half a dozen times, and felt the rush of fire to my
loins, so charged was I by the velvet torture of her talented
mouth. To abate my early lust, I reached down and cupped artfully
chiseled cheeks of her face and pulled her off my cock. The tip
slid gently out of her wet, red mouth and descended her chin,
leaving a white sticky trail of saliva and my seed. She arched
her neck, and the hard,wet head of my organ bobbed below her
chin, finally striking at her exposed right nipple.
     In a playful fashion, I roughly pushed her straight back
onto the sofa and fell to one knee. I cupped my hand around her
perfect breast. It indeed was as soft as my mind's eye had
imagined, except for the hard, excited nipple. I darted my face
forward and took that same tip into my mouth, lapping at the
tingling bud. Auria moaned in pleasure, pulling my face harder
against herchest. I swirled my tongue around the nipple and
flushed aureole. Urgently, I opened my mouth wider and took in
even more of the downy soft breast, suckling at it feverishly.
     As I knelt, my bobbing cock swayed against her slim thigh.
As my sucking on her breast continued, I could feel her thighs
tremble, and then twitch apart. Needing no further invitation, I
dropped my head down between her thighs and pushed the hem of her
short gown up toward her waist. Her knees parted further, and, to
my surprise, I could see that the little tart had failed to don
any undergarment after her shower, leaving her entire sexual
region exposed to my feasting eyes. Her lightly-furred lips were
swollen with passion, giving off a musty, aqueous air. I parted
her labia with my thumbs and pressed my own lips against the
flowering opening. She shriekedin pleased surprise. I looked at
her quaking torso, over her softly quivering titflesh.  Auria's
eyes were locked on the scene at her loins, savoring both the
image and sensation of my kiss.
    I allowed my tongue to lightly part her nether lips, and was
greeted with a pool of her pussy's lustful emissions. I thrust
the lapper deep inside, and wriggled it about against the walls
of her sweet tunnel. She shrieked again. My tongue dove in
several more times, remaining constantly in motion as it made its
passage. Auria responded to each with a moan or keening chirp.
Clearly,the maiden was afire with uncontrollable passion. I
withdrew my tongue to the opening and ran it up her slit to her
clitoris, swollen to solidity by her body's urges. My lips sucked
and tugged at the heated node, and then my teeth, safely covered
by my lips, nipped gently at it. She threw her hips up against my
face with a groan. I tugged twice more and laved at the bud. Her
staccato moaning rose to a nearly constant wail.
    "Oh, Lord, yes, yes, yes!" she managed through her trembling
lips. Her thighs swung open and closed against my slavering face.
     With unexpected force of will, she managed to subside the
writhing of her loins and grunt out huskily, "Please... now, I
want you in me now!" She then sat up, drawing my chin up with her
hand. She then kicked her wide-spread left leg over my head and
stood up, and then wrestled me up onto the couch and into a
sitting position. My hard cock stood straight up in my lap.
      The standing girl turned away from me, then pulled her
robe's skirt up to her waist, baring her perfect, slim-hipped ass
to me. Backing up, she gingerly sat back onto my lap. I guided
her down with my hands on her hips and ass. She reached beneath
her and grabbed my hard rod. As she sat further, she guided my
tip into her wet portals. I slipped in about an inch, and then
snagged. She rose up and descended again, constricting me tighter
as she forced herself down... and then I burst in. She dropped
fully into my lap, encasing me in her wet tightness.
     With a crooked grin, Auria turned her head and tilted it
back to kiss me hungirly. As she did, her loins squirmed in a
circle around my fleshy post that impaled her. I held her hips in
my hands and increased the radius of her gyrations.
    She spread her knees so that they rested outside my own, and
then leaned forward, resting herhands on my kneecaps. With that
leverage and the grasping hands on her hips and ass, she had
leverage to rock forward, away from me, and then drop her tight,
young succulent channel back down on my filling cock. The hem of
her robe drifted down so that it obscured our joined loins. With
a groan, she raised again so that my throbbing muscle came almost
completely free. Almost immediately, she slammed her slim ass
down, smacking audibly onto my loins. Her eyes pressed shut as
she concentrated on re-ascending the peak of passion to which my
mouth had brought her.From the short, panting breaths that
accompanied her vigorous riding of my cock, it seemed that such a
moment might not be too far away.
     I levered against her pumping loins by clutching tightly to
her hips and forcing my ownreddened cockshaft heavily up inside
her. Her wetness seemed to increase, and it trickled from her
juicy cleft down my shaft, pooling in my nether hairs.
Implorations to ram into her harder spat out of her pouting,
panting lips. The demure young beauty I first had met had since
been possessed by the soul of a wanton she-devil.
    With no further warning. my lover's body tensed above me and
her uttered oaths and profanities ceased, replaced by a sustained
cry, rising in pitch and volume upon each second's passage. Her
body shook, and her hips jerked in four long spasms. The
pulsating tugs upon my own lustful organ only confirmed the
obvious, her achievment of a stirring orgasm while riding my
broad sword. I held her ass more firmly as she shuddered with
each new rictus of her coming. Her wailing cries descended to
pleased moans, and over her shoulder, I could see her stunning
features split in a broad grin. She experimentally brought her
ass up one more time, and slid her satisfied quim down again on
my cock, obviously testing its rigidity, its capacity for further
immediate relief.
      Suddenly, the door from the main performance room swung
open, revealing a shocked Lorena,the beautiful, statuesque
lady-in-waiting to Princess Paleem. Rebca, their shorter,
dark-haired (and equally beautiful) maidservant peered around her
shoulder. Both were wide-eyed at the sight of our two sweaty
bodies, locked together at the genitals out of sight beneath the
hem of Aurina's skirt.
     Lorena's features finally began working again, and she broke
into a superior sort of grin. "So, if it isn't my long lost
'cousin' Jaze, once again dipping his wick at Solstice Castle,
and now with one of the King's concubines."
     Aurina brushed a stray blonde curl from her own face and
slid the strap of her gown back upher right arm, re-covering her
sweat-glistened breast. She glared back at Lorena, but made no
move to rise from my lap. No one said a word...


                SOLSTICE CASTLE PART 12

    Even though she remained silent, Auria continued to torment
my the unrelieved countenance of my soldier ennestled in her by
affording it squeezes of strength and control, traveling from
one end of my shaft to the other -- all while giving no outward
sign to the two lovely intruders!
    I finally broke the silence, stammering, "Well, you see,
Lorena, the lady requested lessons on the flute..." My voice
trailed off as I saw the blonde Lorena guffaw; even the demure
Rebca silently tittered behind her slim hand.
    Lorena japed, "I can see that she is receiving whatever
lessons you're giving 'on the flute', but I don't see what kind
of instruction you could be giving to an experienced harlot."
Auria glared at her; Lorena responded in kind. I could sense
considerable tension between them, each perhaps resentful of
the other. Lorena had considerable education and probably
considered herself near-royalty, but was limited largely to
contacts with the lady she served, Princess Paleem. Auria, as
the King's concubine, was educated largely in those arts that
might amuse the King - music, floral arranging, and perhaps,
certain sexual amusements - and enjoyed his ear and
confidences, but was disparaged by others in the castle as
little more than a whore.
    I protested, "Well, it's more than that, milady. You see, I
had to contact the Queen to apprise her of what I've learned
regarding the conspiracy to steal the jewels from the Prime
Minister, and this was the only means by which I could gain
entry."
    Auria's head whipped around, her venom now directed at me.
"What, pray tell is this? I was merely your ruse to enter the
castle??!! You vile little ass!" The honey-haired woman jerked
her hips forward while her inner muscles clenched at my member,
nearly ripping the beleaguered fellow by his roots. She then
leaped to her feet, her gown's short hem maintaining her
modesty by falling to her thighs. She whirled, and stung me
with a slap to my cheek. She stormed by Lorena, paused as
thought she were about to also slap the taller blonde, and then
flounced through the door. I remained seated, stunned, with my
still-stiff, cunt-wetted rod jutting toward the ceiling through
my unbuttoned breeches.
   Lorena looked at me disdainfully, and then turned to the
cameo-featured brunette. "Rebca, dear, would you please aid
this pervert in re-arranging himself as befits one in the
presence of ladies?" Rebca nodded obligingly and fell to her
knees before me. She grasped my thick, sticky cock in her slim
fingers, the tips barely meeting around my thickness. Before
attending to her task, she gently jacked me up and down, coyly
looking up at me beneath lowered lashes. Lorena interrupted,
"No time for playing, now, Rebca; and heaven knows he doesn't
deserve it."  Rebca sighed regretfully and tucked my manhood
back inside my trousers, re-buttoning them with not a little
effort over the bulge created.
   Lorena plopped herself next to me on the couch, while Rebca
curled up on her haunches on the floor. "Now, you little fool,
tell me what makes you think that the Queen would have the
slightest interest in anything you would have to tell her about
the theft of the jewels. Anyway, Rebca seems to have been
cleared of suspicious, so I don't see whey we need to get
involved at all."
    "It's not that simple," I replied. "If the Prime Minister
awakes from his injured state, which could happen at any time,
he could re-count that he saw a young man who had no business
in the castle at the door to your chambers - with Rebca - at
the time of the attack. This certainly would shed a new light
that might return suspicion to her, and me. Besides, the Queen
has expressly asked us to look into this matter; we have a very
special commission."
    Lorena looked at me doubtfully, and then glanced at Rebca,
who lowered her eyes and blushed. "What is this special
commission? You don't mean...?" I shrugged meaningfully;
Rebca's head dropped even further. Lorena's jaw dropped.
    I could see the wheels working in the ambitious blonde's
head: if she could somehow share in our obviously intimate
relationship with the Queen, her own stature in the castle
would be enhanced. She set her jaw and looked at me sternly,
"Well, I will pass your message, if I can get through to the
Queen - but if she insists she knows you not, I will look the
utter ass, and will make you pay!"
     Lorena stood and turned to Rebca. "You stay and deflect
any visitors to make sure Jaze isn't discovered. And, would you
two please not be naked when I get back?" Lorena rolled her
eyes, as though lecturing mischievous children, and left the
music room.
    I assisted Rebca onto the couch, where she huddled against
me. I placed my arm around her shoulder. The mute beauty looked
up into my eyes expressively. Her gaze told of much she wished
she could tell, if only she had the ability to speak. She
impulsively leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, a sign
of gratitude for my efforts to clear her from suspicion, I
supposed.
  We remained there, voicelessly consoling one another with our
arms wrapped around each other, until we heard footsteps just
minutes later. I huddled in the corner while Rebca peered out
the door. She stepped aside as Queen Serjeen strode through the
doorway, with Lorena in her wake. The Queen, a tall, dark
beauty with features chiseled as if by the greatest of
sculptors, eyed me with not a little awe.
   "Well, my wild young friend, it seems as though you have an
infinitely varied capacity for breaching the castle's security.
How did you manage it this time?"
   Lorena coughed, "I'm sure Your Majesty has no desire to hear
such a boring tale." I blushed for the second time. The Queen
looked at me inquiringly.
   I bowed and replied, my words tumbling over one another in a
panic. "Well, Your Highness, it seems that the mysterious
assailant bears the initials TN and has - if you will accept my
word with only the utmost of respect for His Highness intended
- he has been in some contact with the King. And, I fear the
for some reason he and his Drofnats legion has taken the
castle's laundress, a reputed Gypsy Queen named Lindea, as his
hostage." I then explained in some more detail the note I'd
found in the King's tent at the revels in which this "TN"
reported something about "legitimate heirs not all dead" and
"not enough jewels to be sure" and "all holders must concur, but
expect trouble from church and gypsies."
   The queen stared vacantly in thought. "Hmmm. This TN must be
Thaddeo Novan, a military administrator who I'd always thought
bore more loyalty to himself and his fellow Drofnats than he
did to the King. As for jewels, it seems they bear importance
beyond their mere value as baubles on crowns. I have heard
tales in the past of powers that might be possessed if a mass
of certain ancient jewels were amassed and controlled, but all
thought the stories to be apocrophyl, even if all such gems
might be found. The myths insist that they were scattered to
the far corners of the lands. My husband seems to have been
spending a considerable amount of time with Thaddeo, which I
could not understand, as he is such a dreadful, macabre man."
    Serjeen began pacing. "This could be very serious. We have
no way of knowing who can be trusted. I suppose we can at least
check out the southwest corner of the lower basement of the
castle, as that seems to be the lair of the Drofnats soldiers
who are part of our castle guard. The three of you had best
come with me; Jaze, you look enough like you could be a footman
assigned to assist me."
   The Queen then strode out the door, not stopping to see if
we were following her. We scrambled after her in pursuit.
   For the first time, I could stride the halls of the castle
without skulking around or diving into doorways at the first
sign of a guard. Being with the Queen, watching all we passed
bow low with respect, was extraordinarily heady. Still, I could
not forget the dangerous, critical mission we were undertaking,
one in which even the Queen was in the dark.
   At the two long hallways, we came to a heavy door that led
to dimly lit steps the the basement. From there, we traversed
two further hallways until we came to a dimly lit room, beyond
which we could see a further, intersecting hallway. The Queen
turned to us and motioned us to silence, bidding us to stay
where we were.
   She went to the corridor and headed down it to our right.
The three of us - Lorena, Rebca and I - peeked around the
corner. We saw the Queen stop in front of a closed door guarded
by a short, hairy guard - clearly a Drofnats. The man clearly
was not of the King's elite, he was ill-shaven and his uniform
bunched unceremoniously around his sloppy girth. The guard
clumsily bowed in surprise.
   Serjeen impatiently bid him rise. "Good eve, Guard. I would
enter this room, if you will make way."
   The guard's eyes opened wide, and he began visibly sweating
and stammering. "I would grant that wish ... or any wish ... of
your majesty, but, you see, the tradition of the Drofnats is
that none may enter when our religious rites are performed and
... with the highest of respect to Your Highness, but.. I
can't!" His response rose almost to a wail.
   "Guard, you will find your captain and obtain such leave. Do
I make myself clear?"
   The stumpy man began shifting from foot to foot in panic.
"All the captains are inside, uh... praying your highness, and
I cannot interrupt them. Could you come back in an hour; I'm
sure they'll be done then?"
   The Queen stared at the little man, and stormed away, back
towards us. Coming into the small room, she whispered hoarsely,
"Well, of all the nerve. I'm sure there's something going on in
there; the Drofnats' religion isn't THAT important to them.
We've got to get past that dimwit. Lorena, I want you to go
down and lure that man away from the door; use whatever wiles
you require."
    Lorena grimaced uncomfortably. "Wiles, milady? What would I
have to offer to him to move him away from..." Her breath
caught. "You mean, you want me to suggest to that fat, filthy
little guard that I might be willing to...?"
   Serjeen's voice was sharp. "I don't want you to suggest
anything, you self-important tramp. I want you to march down
there, open his tunic, and take his cock into your
less-than-pristine mouth until we can get past him."
   Lorena sputtered. "But Your Highness! Surely you cannot
expect this from an educated lady-in-waiting to your own
daughter, the Princess! What about Rebca?"
   "She's mute, you idiot. How will she explain her purpose
here to him."
   "But surely there's someone else?"
   Lorena looked hopefully at me. I shrugged, "I fear that I am
not his type, milady. Lorena glanced at the Queen, who scalded
her with a look conveying the idiocy of her unspoken suggestion.
   With a bitter sigh, Lorena turned the corner and walked up
to the guard. He looked at her suspiciously, but not without
undisguised lust. The Drofnats were not known for the
sophistication of their attitudes toward women.
   Coquettishly, Lorena looked down at the man, trying to
convey submissiveness notwithstanding her heighth advantage.
"Oh my, I am lost here. I just love exploring this old castle
but I seem to have become lost."
   "You sure are lost; 'tis no way that a woman should be here
in the realm of the Drofnats soldiers. We should have you in
shackles for even being here. In fact, I may have to hold you
until my captain comes out from his conference in here." The
guard chuckled meaningfully, as though he had just figured out
how he might while away the time with the tall, high-titted
blonde as his temporary captive.
   "Oh, please, sir. I was causing no trouble here. I certainly
wouldn't want to embarass my Lady by getting into trouble here.
In fact, I would do anything to avoid it." Lorena's long lashes
lowered modestly. The guard seemed lost in thought at the
significance of her statement.
   To cut short his confusion, Lorena reached down and reached
under his tunic, obviously rubbing his bulge that lay beneath
it. "Perhaps I can find a way to make this problem... ease a
little?" The guard nodded hopefully in response.
   With a grimace, the tall blonde dropped to her knees in
front of the guard. She reached under his tunic with both hands
and pulled his brief *ketchel* - or undergarment - down his
thighs. Lifting up the tunic's hem, Lorena exposed his thick
but short organ, which impudently poked out at her. She
clutched it roughly in her right hand and yanked at it.
He sighed gutturally and closed his eyes.
   With obvious hope that nothing more would be required. Lorena
began stroking the shaft's loose flesh up and down with her
long, tapered fingers. The guard's fat hips jerked up against
her hand. She reached up with her left hand and cupped his
hairy balls, then lifted and caressed them to hasten his
release.
   "Lord, yeah, you wench. That is a gift from the goddesses
themselves!" Spittle dripped out of his blubbery lips as he
exclaimed his release.
   She stroked faster, and the fat guard's breathing grew
heavier. Suddenly his eyes sprung open, and the Queen motioned
that we should slip down the hall with her as he was fully
distracted at the time of his release. Just as quickly, we
stopped, as his wide-eyed alertness signaled nothing more than
the onset of an idea. The piggy eyes looked down at Lorena.
   "Hey, Wench" - it now seemed to be her official name, in his
eyes - "you can do me better than that!" He bent over and roughly
grabbed the shoulders of her gown, ripping them down almost to
her waist, bringing her large, high breasts into view. His face
grew red in excitement, and he grabbed the jutting orbs,
squeezing them painfully. Straightening up, he grabbed a hank
of Lorena's blonde tresses in each hand, pulling to either
side. She quickly sensed his implicit command, as she parted
her lips slightly. The guard backed away with his hips, as
though cocking an arrow on a bow, and then rammed forward,
driving the stumpy organ into her pink mouth. She grunted in
astonishment and alarm, futilely trying to control his entry
with the hand by which she held his cudgel.
   "Holy sheep days, Wench," he spewed, causing us to be
grateful to the Gods that we were not born as sheep in
Drofnats, whatever may have been intended to be conveyed
by his oath. "It's been so long since I've been with any woman,
and Lord you are the sexiest one ever." He continued his
lurching onto her mouth, fully removing his thick cock on each
outstroke with an audible smack as it left Lorena's lips, and
then driving it back in, nearly reaching her throat. "When I
blast, you might well drown, ya got me so worked up."
   On his next instroke, he held his loins and dirty pubic hair
right up against Lorena's nose. She glanced over to where she
could see the three of us peeking around the corner, glaring
daggers at us in her discomfort. The Queen motioned with a
twirl of her hand that she should position herself so as to
turn the guard's back to both us and the door. Lorena did so
with some difficulty, as the wild pumping of the guard's loins
threatened to pitch her to the side. She remained kneeling only
because the heavy-set man held her up painfully by the hair
clutched in his hands.
   After three more strokes, he began to bellow like a wounded
animal and increase the length of his strokes. Lorena's bared
breasts bobbed and jerked on her chest. She manfully tried to
survive the assault on her mouth by the uncouth simpleton,
moaning in time to each stroke. She tried to grasp the base of
his cock when it next emerged from her mouth, trying to use her
hand as a stopper to minimize the depth of his entry, but he
summarily swatted her hand away and drove even further into her
maw.
    The Queen again motioned us to follow her, and we crept
down the hall toward the oddly matched couple. As we got
closer, we could hear his refraining murmur, "Gotta spew, gotta
spew it," and then, just as we slipped behind him, he grunted
hoarsely like a farm pig.
    I glanced down just in time to see his still pumping cock
emit a heavy stream from the tip, blasting straight into
Lorena's open mouth. The tip and cock followed it in, and then
emerged covered with her saliva and his own spend. He pushed
forward again, but so wildly that he missed her mouth and so
his next white blast struck off her cheeks. He continued to
pump and shoot his sticky cream, some of it into her gaping
mouth and throat, and some in cascades on her lips, chin and
chiseled cheek bones.
    I felt a tug at my sleeve. The Queen was pulling me into
the doorway. I threw up the latch there as quietly as I could,
glancing back to make sure that the still spewing guard was not
paying us attention. Sure enough, his head remained thrown back
as his seed cascaded over the arrogant blonde's features.
    The three of us slipped inside the door, and were greeted
by an astonishing sight. In the torchlit room, we could see an
elderly crone, long grey hair askew, kneeling on the floor,
chains linking her wrists and ankles. She was surrounded by
three other Drofnats guards, each holding a large club.
   Above her, chained to the wall, was the lovely gypsy Lindea.
Her simple frock was nearly shredded by the slashes of a whip.
Though angry red cuts and welts were visible through the rends
of her clothes, the indomitable, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman
retained a fiery, confident countenance.
   In front of her was the object of her fury - and her
whip-bearing torturer. His face turned toward us and smoldered
in recognition and anger. I gasped.
   Finally, I was face-to-face with the green cloaked assailant.

                     SOLSTICE CASTLE, PART 13

   I barely abated the quaking that stirred within my spine from
the glare of this man. His dark eyes glimmered with the sheen of
the carapace of a poisonous thayl bug. Those eyes had seen evil;
in fact their possessor had ordered its commission, and enjoyed
the view. His thick, trimmed beard obscured but did not hide his
thick-lipped slash of a mouth.
    His demeanor lightened slightly, obeisantly as his gaze
swiveled to the face of the Queen. "Ahh, Your Majesty," he
croaked in an oily tone. "You will forgive me if I do not ask you
to stay, but I am about the King's business, and the presence of
the Queen would not be appropriate." He turned to the nearest
guard. "Lanceman Walesh, if you would be so kind as to escort Her
Highness upstairs, and please be sure to assist her as some
dampness can collect and make the stairs treacherous."
    Queen Serjeena did not move. "I do not recall that the King's
business has involved the torture of young girls, Thaddeo Novan.
And I will not leave until there is some convincing explanation
for this!"
    Novan sighed theatrically. "Your Highness, this gypsy wench
and her people represent a threat to the continued reign of your
husband, and I am merely seeking information. The King is fully
aware of the threat and approves of these steps."
    "My husband would not approve of such tactics! You are lying,
Novan."
     Novan sighed more heavily, as though confronting a wayward
child. "Very well. Lanceman, if you will please go up and advise
His Majesty that his wife is here and wishes a fuller explanation
of our efforts to protect his throne." The guard hesitated. Novan
shooed him away, urging, "Go ahead - he will come." The young
guard hurried off.
    Just after the guard slipped through the doorway, two other
guards came in, gently guiding the prince and princess -
Phrenshraw and the lovely, red-haired Paleem. Lorena, looking
only somewhat disheveled, came in behind, wiping her face with
the back of her hand; I could not suppress my grin at her
predicament, to which she responded with a mouthed epithet
apparently likening me to some part of my hindquarters. Phenshraw
looked confused, and then grew angry as he saw the stunning
Lindea (whose tryst with him in the laundry room several nights
earlier I had interrupted) chained to the wall. Paleem appeared
stunned, and not a little guilty. Her eyes refused to meet mine,
but she did not appear suprised to see me.
    A skinny, round-shouldered soldier, the taller of the two,
stepped around them and addressed Novan. "Your Eminence, these
two were lurking outside the door. I thought it best that you
knew." Paleem turned to Serjeena, "Mother, I saw a scullery wench
beckon Lorena to meet Jaze, and well, interesting things seem to
happen around him. I brought Phrenshaw with me to see for
himself... and, well, I was told you were all headed down here."
    Novan squinted as if in thought, and finally smiled. "Yes, I
suppose it would be best if your children were here as well - to
discover how much they too might have to lose."
    Suddenly, the pieces seemed to fall into place, guided by the
minimal explanation given me by the Queen. I stepped forward.
    "So, Mr. Novan," I sneered. "You have somehow garnered enough
of the jewels, and, with the coerced assistance of Lindea, have
uncovered some information with which you are ... perhaps,
blackmailing King Abret."
     The Queen turned to Novan. "I believe young Jaze may be onto
something. What is the power of these jewels and how are you
using them?"
    A rasping croak erupted from the floor. The old crone rose
gingerly and walked over to the Queen, stopping briefly to glare
at Novan with hatred. "I will tell you of these jewels, Your
Majesty. For they caused the ruin of my people, the gypsy
people."  The Queen nodded, and the old woman continued.
    "It has been passed down from generation to generation, this
story, few believing its literal truth. I know now it was not
simply some legend. In the olden days, our land knew of wizards
of modest but benevolent power, with which they could create
animals of grace and beneficience and birds with a song to move
the meanest of hearts, and keep the rivers clean and the crops
plentiful.
    "To enhance their powers, a convocation of all the world's
wizards and the finest of craftsmen of precious jewels - all of
whom were gypsies - was called.  They assembled a store of the
few truly precious gemstones in our land and carved and embued
them with tremendous powers to see sights from both faraway lands
and long distant times, as well as to control the powers of
nature and even the minds of men. The priests were brought in to
bless this undertaking, to suffuse their magic with the purpose
of serving God and the deity's creations.
     "Alas, at this time the old King, an ancestor of Abret and
you two children", she added, nodding weakly at Phenshraw and
Paleem, "suddenly passed away - many suspected poison - and his
sole heir was a boy of only three.  So, a regent was selected to
govern until the boy was of age. The man chosen, Jackur, was a
monster, from Drofnats." The woman spat out the last word, as
though to rid her tongue of the taste of its speaking.
    "Jackur had designs on the kingdom's powers and sought to
turn the wizard's magic to his own uses. Knowing the beast's
plans, the mages wisely refused and dispersed the jewels to many
corners of the kingdom, although the regent seized some of them
and stored them in the castle.  To prevent their misuse, the
stones' magic was altered so that it could be fully used only in
the presence of a high priest, a king or queen of the gypsies,
and the king or queen of the kingdom. In revenge, Jackur then had
the wizards slain and the gypsies driven into exile. To impede
the perpetuation of the power of the priests, he decreed that
they should forever after remain celibate."
    I broke in. "And somehow, Novan, you have collected most of
the dispersed jewels, and were trying to force Lindea, who you
believe - as do we - to be the rightful heir to the throne of the
gypsies, to aid in your use of the jewels."
    Novan's head snapped to me and his eyes roared in pained
contempt. "Who is this ignorant young whelp and how did he get
into this castle? What did he do, sleep with every woman in the
castle?"
     A sudden silence descended on the room. Novan did not seem
to understand its significance, but Paleem stood straight and
looked around. She looked not at Lorena and Rebca, and I suddenly
knew for sure that it was Paleem who had spied on the three of us
in our initial tryst in Lorena's bedchamber several nights
before. Paleem's eyes lit on her mother's face; Serjeen flushed
slightly. "Mother??!!", the young girl cried. Phenshraw's gaze
turned toward Lindea, whose dark beautiful features softened in
guilt. "Lindea?" Her refusal to meet his eyes was all the
confirmation he needed.
    The Queen broke the tableau, muttering unconvincingly, "Don't
be silly, dear." I looked for a quick exit from the room, but the
stern visage of the guard nearest the door quelled any such
thoughts.
    Just then, the King burst through the doorway, raggedly
dressed in a wrinkled blouse with shirttails askew and his
breeches only half fastened. The Queen glared at him, and I could
only speculate that he and the youthful blonde triplets with whom
he had dallied the previous night had been interrupted in yet
another visit to the oceanic fantasy I had weaved for them. Abret
stopped as if struck in the forehead. His eyes slowly scanned the
room, while his face changed expression at each stage - as he
espied his wife, his children, his laundress in chains, me
(albeit receiving the least of his attention), the old crone, and
- finally - his apparent confidant.
    "Thaddeo," he roared, "what is the meaning of all of this?"
     The assailant's voice increased in its insincere greasiness.
"Your Highness, your family and their scruffy retainers
unfortunately have descended as by surprise upon the Drofnats'
private quarters. They have interrupted the interrogation of
which you and I spoke last eve. If you would reassure these well-
meaning but misdirected members of your family that I am indeed
carrying out the business of the throne and ask them to retire
elsewhere, I would be quite grateful."
     Serjeen strode over to the King, sneering at his
incriminating dishevelment. "What is this? You agreed that this
inhuman creature could put the whip to a laundress? I will not
stand for it."
     Abret's features softened placatingly. "Dear, there are
serious threats about which you do not know. We - Thaddeo and I -
are addressing them. Please do not ask further."
    The dark-haired queen rose to her toes, and I realized that
at her full extension she was ever the equal in height to her
husband. "I fucking well will ask further!" An audible gasp rose
from the guards and the Princess, for none had known any queen to
use such language. Her stare pierced at Abret's soul. His eyes
dipped, and then he lowered his shoulders in defeat.
    "Thaddeo," he murmured, "bring out the jewels and show them."
    The beak-nosed man strode to a table next to the still-
chained Lindea and opened a box. He motioned to the skinny guard,
who unlocked Lindea's chains and pushed her over to stand next to
the table, her hands still shackled. I remain astonished at the
captivating, regal beauty and self-possessiveness which she
conveyed.
    In the box, I could see the mezmerizing brilliance of a
collection of bright-colored stones of all hues. Novan carefully
spilled the contents onto the table. Shimmering gusts of sparkle,
of colors, of, for want of a better term,  *magic*  cascaded
throughout the pile. Novan looked up triumphantly, grinning. "I
have almost all the stones here.  With the assistance of the King
and at least the presence of Ms. Lindea here, we can read many
things of the past. Most of these we wish to know, and others we
would prefer others not to know. Come closer know, as the visions
are not altogether clear in that we do not have the full roster
of those who should attend."
    The royal family stepped closer to the table. Lorena, Rebca
and I - being of lesser station - remained behind them. Novan
mumbled some incantation of guttural words, and a tableau
appeared above the table. It appeared to display two figures
about as tall as my arm is long - a man and a woman. It was an
astonishing feat, these figures appearing in the middle of the
gloomy air of the dungeon, as though they were shadows projected
on a wall, but in full color and in all dimensions. I craned my
head to the side, and my view of them changed as though I was
indeed walking around a couple of dolls.  Still, the vision
wavered, as though viewed under the surface of a running brook.
    Abret took on the air of a carnival barker. "These two are
Disproul - Abret's cousin - as she was some eighteen years ago;
the man is some unknown person, a peasant perhaps, whose features
we cannot make out. As you will see, Disproul will engage in some
activity one would not expect from the unmarried niece of a
king."
    At that, Paleem, ever the observer of all things salacious,
crowded closer to the table for a better look, leaving me room
next to her to gain a better vantage. I stepped up and the
figures became markedly clearer. The man was revealed to be a
strapping, lantered-jaw, athletic fellow of about thirty-five.
The woman, in her late twenties, had light brown hair and
striking, firm features. Novan's eyebrows raised in apparent
surprise.
    Abret gasped in surprise. "I knew that man. He was... No, it
is impossible. He wouldn't...." The king left the man's identity
unspoken. The couple bore a vague familiarity to me as well, but
I could not place their faces to save my soul.
    The couple was embracing heatedly. She wore a short, light
blue gown, from which long, athletic legs emerged. The man wore a
long dark robe, almost a cassock such as those I had seen
visiting church dignitaries wear. Suddenly, his strong hands
grasped the front of Disproul's gown and kneaded her breasts
through the thin garment; her excited nipples pressed against the
fabric exposed between his fingers. After a moment, his hands
grasped the top of her robe and gracefully pulled it below her
firm breasts. Her arms snaked around his neck and pulled his face
to hers, where their lips dueled in a passionate kiss.
    Paleem squeeked in surprise and not a little excitement; her
brother, Prince Phrenshaw emitted out a long, low whistle, which
drew a rebuking glance from the king. Serjeena shook her head,
muttering, "I don't think the children should be watching such
carnality," but made no further move to banish them from the
room, paralyzed as she was by her shock at seeing the tableau
floating above the table.
    Lorena and Rebca glanced at each other and pushed forward to
view this taboo sight for themselves. Just then, sounds began to
emerge from the couple in the scene, sounds readily identified as
the sort of panting and sweet implacations of a couple lustily
enjoying the fruits of one another's body. "Oh, Andis," her voice
cried in tones that were no less regal for her passionate
endeavors. "I know we shouldn't but, oh God I love the feel of
you, and your strength."
    The King glanced at Novan and accused, "I did not know you
could elicit the sounds of the event." Novan shrugged, "I was not
aware of this myself. Somehow, our powers with the jewels
increase. Perhaps with more than one member of your family here,
the use of the jewels is enhanced."
    The man, Andis, a name that also tickled the back of my mind,
quieted her with a kiss. In a voice of great timbre and obvious
power, he admonished, "Hush, my sweet princess, we should not be
using His name, and have so little time." He gently lay her on
the ground or floor - one could not see the surface on which they
rested.  Andis dropped his head to the beautiful woman's breast
and began suckling voraciously. As he did, he slid the gown down
over her slim hips and down her thighs, revealing her flat
stomach and light-brown pubic hair.
     His left hand slid over Disproul's stomach and cupped her
mons. Her slender thighs sprung open willingly, granting him
entrance. I could see his strong hand rub at her flowering cleft,
and as her hips began writhing, his middle finger probe at the
parted lips and then forcefully enter her. Her hips jerked up to
capture his digit, pressing herself against the base of his hand.
    Andis sawed in and out of her, bringing her to even greater
passion. Her loins rocked mildly from side to side, as though in
a dance, but the clenching of her thigh muscles revealed the
nearness of her completion at his hand. With a muffled scream,
her head darted forward and clasped his thick, dark hair between
her teeth, and her hips jerked up and locked against fingers. It
was apparent to all watching that her climax was upon her. Our
room was filled with the sounds of our own heavy breathing,
almost matching the loud breathiness of the stunning Disproul.
    As her spasms subsided, she reached up and pulled at her
lover's collar. "Come now, my love," she pleaded. "We have
limited ourselves to play for too long. Come and take me, at
least this once. The future is too uncertain to leave ourselves
with regrets for consummations that we have let elude us."
    When the man hesitated, Disproul wrestled with the collar and
the buttons descending the front of his gown. She pulled it away
from him, exposing a pale but heavily muscled, slim body. He was
wearing a loose undergarment, a sort of short pair of pants,
which was bulging obscenely with his own arousal. He looked down
at the tented garment, as though surprised himself at the
presence of this creature within.
    Disproul leaned forward and wrestled the short undergarment
over his hips, carefully drawing it over the tip of his stiff
member. Her cry of, "Oh my lord!" coincided with the gasps of the
women present: Serjeena, Paleem, Lorena, and Rebca, and even the
shackled Lindea. Even though the figures were in miniature,
perhaps one-fourth of their normal size, it was readily apparent
that the man's cock was huge, larger than any I had seen
displayed at the orgiastic festival the previous night.
    Disproul grabbed the giant shaft and began to work her hand
up and down its length, causing the essence of his seed to
trickle out the tip and coat her fingers. "My love," she cried
huskily, "I can claim no great experience in the dimensions of
men, but this far surpasses what I might have hoped to enjoy from
you or any man. Please, impale me with your sword now!"
    Disproul again lay supine with her legs spread wide for her
handsome lover. He awkwardly lay atop her and allowed her to
guide his mammoth cock to the entrance to her tunnel. As the tip
parted her flowering lips, instinct took command and his hips
pushed forward. "Please, Your Grace," she protested with a wince.
"Take your time, as it may take a moment to accomodate you."
    Andis nodded and moved back, resting the cock head just
inside her. He pressed forward more slowly, and then withdrew.
When Disproul smiled, he renewed the motion with a hairsbreadth
more force. He was clearly making headway in his efforts.
    With five more insertions, each incrementally further than
its predecessor, the man slipped all the way into her. Disproul's
smile changed to an open-mouthed gasp, stretched as she was.
Still, she encouraged him on, raising her hips in invitation.
Resting his weight on his outstretched arms, Andis began rocking
back in forth in that eternal motion enjoyed by passion-joined
lovers. Disproul raised her knees to ease her accomodation of
him.
     He smiled down at her warmly. "I hope that I somehow am
bringing you comfort, my sweet lady."
     She grinned back, to the extent she could through the cunt-
stretching sweet torture of her impalement. "My love, you are
bringing me pleasure beyond my ability to described, and
heightened as it is by my love for you." I could see tears of joy
well in her eyes, and then Andis' face descended to hers in a
kiss borne more of true love than of simple passion.
     Still locked in the kiss, Andis' hips increased the tempo of
their lunges into her. Disproul locked her ankles together behind
his ass and urged him to yet greater speed. After only a few
moments, their lurching turned into a frenzied coupling, their
loins slamming into one another.
     With a strangled cry of "Yes, my love!", Andis held his hips
to the loins of his lover, and one could almost see him jet his
seed into the slender beauty. Her own explosion was just as
obvious, but quieter, as she smiled into his dark eyes, panting
through her finish. As their storm subsided, their loving kiss
resumed.
     Novan swept through the tableau with his hand and muttered
another foreign phrase that we did not understand. The tableau
slowly faded from view. All eyes in the room, save Novan's, were
glazed in astonishment - even those of King Abret, who I had
understood had seen this scene before. Apparently, his previous
viewings were without the clarity afforded on this occasion.
    Queen Serjeena spoke up, her glinting eyes giving away her
own excitement at watching the fornicating couple. Yet, her voice
remained calm. "Very well, Novan, you have through this magic
shown us my husband's long-dead cousin trysting with a man..."
    "And quite an impressive one!" Lorena piped up.
    "Oh, shut up, girl!" the queen admonished; the blonde blushed
and backed away. "So what is your point in showing us this?"
    Novan smiled, as though in triumph. "Well, Your Highness, it
seems that as a result of this assignation, poor Disproul found
herself with child. Her scandalized family sent her off to the
Berkan Islands to have her child, to hide their shame."
    "Some three years later, old King Wherel passed away without
any direct heirs. So, it was left for the sitting cardinals to
choose among the most direct heirs for the occupant of the
throne. There were two candidates: his sister's son, young Prince
Abret, to whom you had been married several years earlier. The
other candidate was his brother's daughter Disproul, and a
messenger was sent to tell her of the King's death so that she
might return to stake her claim to it, if she chose.
     "If she were to return, she would have had a very strong
claim. Of course, the preference is to place a male on the throne
where all other factors are of equal weight. Here, however, she
might well have been granted the throne if she had sought it, as
she was older than Abret, and exceedingly smart and talented,
even musically so. The conventional view of your husband at that
time, by contrast, was that he was a pleasant and well meaning
young man, but not particularly bright or responsible, inclined
as he was to savor the more hedonistic pleasures of life." Abret
raised his head as though to protest, but remained silent.
      "With this in mind, we come to the events that make it
crucial for you to not interfere with the plans that I have made
with the King's approval. We will now display a scene of a ship
tossed about on the waves one sunny afternoon. On this ship was
one Disproul and the twins that she bore as a result of her
impetuous afternoon with the..." Novan broke off, as he espied
the King standing there, shaking his head, his eyes staring at
the jewels on the table. "What is it, Your Majesty?" Novan
beseeched.
     "I had no idea; no idea at all," the sovereign muttered
through his dark beard. He looked up guiltily. "That man, Andis,
the one who fathered Disproul's children - he was the Cardinal
for all of our country...."


                     SOLSTICE CASTLE,  PART 14

     The King's announcement had a varied effect upon those of us
in the room. Novan looked shocked. Most of the others looked
startled at the thought that a cardinal should have fathered a
child by a princess, but did not seem nearly as stunned as Abret
himself. After all, this event had occurred some eighteen years
before. I of course had heard of Andis from the brothers in the
monastery in which I lived; a man annointed as the cardinal at a
young age would by any standards be a legend among the clergy. As
I recall being told, he had opted to renounce the mantle of
leader of the faith many years before, though none would admit
even knowing why he would have taken such a step. As the brothers
related, Andis had served as a simple country friar for several
years in the wilds of the uncivilized forests, where he
ultimately had succumbed to one of the illnesses prevalent in the
forested regions. His body now lay in the cemetery of the
monastery.
     The ghostly tableau re-formed itself above the dungeon table
on which the multi-colored jewels rested. Now, we watched a
sunrise at sea, with two ships in view, the smaller of which
appeared to be overtaking the larger. The scene shifted to what
seemed to be the smaller and older of the two vessels. Three men
were standing in a cabin, the dried, graying wood suggesting that
the ship had been long used and little maintained.  A husky,
young man with a dark beard sat while two slender men stood at
attention before him.  The sitting man turned his head, and we
could see it was a younger version of King Abret himself. All in
the room watching the figures floating above the table, save the
King and Novan, gasped in surprise.
    In the tableau, Abret looked up with a pained, weak look on
his face. "Now, you two make sure that her boat is diverted by
your men to Badger's Isle and left there for at least two weeks.
By the time she can return, the cardinals will have selected me
for the throne, and they would not dare rescind the selection and
coronation, as times are unsettled enough as they are. And, do
not harm her - or anyone else at least so far as you can help it
- as Disproul is, after all, a princess."
    The standing men nodded. One stepped forward into the light
of Abret's cabin's lantern, revealing himself to be a gaunt,
beetle-browed native of Drofnats. "As you wish, Prince Abret ...
or should I say to get into the practice, Your Majesty. All the
same, you should remain below, for it would not do to have your
cousin recognize you. This should appear to be mere piracy, and
nothing more."
   The scene in the tableau faded, as Thaddeo Novan again swept
his hand through the figures. I glanced over at the King, who was
nodding absently, as though confirming for himself the events
that transpired. Queen Serjeen appeared beside herself with rage;
Phrenshaw and Paleem looked merely stunned.
    Novan smiled ruefully, as though witnessing the putting down
of an injured horse. "So you see, my visitors, there was a little
scheme - some high stakes castle politics - that assured Abret
the kingdom and allows you to live as the royalty you are.
Unfortunately, Princess Disproul's ship somehow was lost on the
way to the island where it was to be delayed, and she never did
appear to congratulate her cousin at his coronation. I trust you
all realize the importance to you of keeping his participation in
such a plan a secret, as the cardinals and the populace might not
view the current royal family with such affection if they became
aware of such manipulation of the throne."
    Serjeen's anger and disgust was tangible. "Novan," she
barked, "I would see more of this event. Please do whatever you
must to place these ships and that day back before our eyes."
    Novan simply shrugged helplessly. "Your Highness, I am afraid
that I cannot. I am no wizard. It is only by luck and numerous
unsuccessful trials that I have, with the aid of some ancient
texts, been able to bring before you these few events. I cannot
control the jewels so as to continue the story."  The Queen
looked skeptical, but obviously could think of no way to catch
the dark-eyed man in his untruth.
    I blurted, "Perhaps someone else can do so." All eyes turned
to me, and I flushed at the intensity of the emotions stirring in
the room, now directed at me. I turned to Lindea, who remained
standing beside the table, her dressed still shredded so as to
expose much of her smooth, tawny skin, including the hint of the
areole of her generous, firm left breast.  Her hands were still
shackled, joinded by a thick, rust encrusted chain. "Lindea - if
you indeed are the rightful monarch of the gypsies, you should by
the powers you inherited have control over the jewels.
Concentrate on the scene that we just witnessed and see if you
can continue its recital."
     Lindea stared at me as though I had just requested that she
grow wings and fly from the castle, but stepped up to the table
slowly. Novan snorted in disgust and looked around to see if
others shared his belief that this effort was doomed to futility,
but all eyes were locked on the dusky beauty, mesmerized by her
proud carriage and her determined and fiery dark eyes.
    Lindea closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in
concentration. After a few seconds, she released her breath in
frustration and looked at me with pleading eyes. "Master Jaze, I
sense much of the power of the jewels, but without practice or
guidance, I do not see how I can direct my thoughts to create a
picture of what you seek to see."
    Novan threw his hands up. "You see, she has no powers. I
think we are just not going to be able to see..." The King broke
in, "Yes, I think Thaddeo has a point, as it seems that the maid
just can't..."
    Serjeena waved him to silence and peered into his guilt-
riddled eyes. "Abret, my husband" -- the last word almost spat in
mocking disdain - "if you wish to continue as an ally of my
father and his subjects, you will not interfere." The Queen
nodded for me to continue.
   I bent and stared into the eyes of the lovely gypsy. "Lindea,
you can bring it to us if you concentrate on those events, on
that day and hour. Remember the two boats, and the woman we know
to be on the larger of the two. Feel the cool morning sea air
tugging at the cloaks of the crewmen." Lindea closed her eyes,
and soon smiled in satisfaction. A flicker of blue ocean and
white sails appeared above the jewels.
     Phrenshaw cried out, "Yes, I think you've just about managed
it."
    I continued describing the scene - its sights and likely
smells. Seized with a sudden inspiration, I began wordlessly
singing - little more than humming - the tale as though playing
my flute. I sang of creaking masts' timbers and crashing waves,
of the sailors' chanties, of the hopes of returning to ones'
homeland, and of the joyous faces of children upon finally
meeting their father.
    Suddenly, the tableau sharpened, and we were given a view of
an interior ship's cabin, obviously from the larger and newer of
the two boats.  In a well-furnished cabin, the still-beautiful
Disproul, clad in a heavy gown to ward off the sea's chill, sat
up in the cramped berth and swung her legs over the edge. She
glanced back at two small forms nestled under the thick quilt,
and then lightly leaped from the bed.  Cries erupted, apparently
from the deck above her head. This scene too faded.
    I looked over at Lindea, whose sweat-dotted forehead grimaced
in anguish. Her eyes flickered open and looked at me
beseechingly. "Oh, Master Jaze, I do not know if I can continue,
as I feel terrible things about to occur." Queen Serjeen gently
grasped the girl's arm; "My dear, it is important that you
continue; please try." Lindea swallowed, and nodded.
    I continued my song, of the smaller boat coming alongside as
the sun rose to wash over the water-slickened deck. The tableau
re-appeared, as tall and heavily-armed Drofnats soldiers quickly
swarmed over the rails of the ship bearing Disproul. The sailors
in the large wooden ship, either sleeping or engaged in the
necessary affairs of sailing, were largely unarmed and quickly
overwhelmed. Two who fought were impaled on the Drofnats' swords,
their corpses flung over the side. The remainder were herded over
one side of the ship and forced at knife point into a landing
skiff, which the boarders winched over the side and set adrift.
     In the corner of the tableau, I noticed a light-brown head
emerge from the stairs that rose from below deck. Disproul
stepped part way into the morning sun, and then gasped, her hand
flying to her mouth. Two invaders grabbed her by the arms and
yanked her from the stairs and dragged her over before the man
who had spoken with Abret earlier in the latter's cabin on the
other ship.  The man's moustache twitched in delight while he
feigned ignorance of her identity.
   "Ahhh, we have a real lady aboard. Perhaps she has some riches
- a family treasury - to make our raid most profitable." Disproul
eyed him warily but said nothing. "Or perhaps, the greatest
treasures of all are carried with her at all times..." He ran his
rough-hands over her shoulders and down her chest, stopping to
rest them on her taut breasts. Her hand quickly lashed out and
stung his cheek. His hands dropped away as if burned. Catching
himself, and embarrassed that the one blow from a woman could
intimidate him, the leader's snarl deepened. "You may well pay
for that, you snotty bitch."
   Just then, Disproul's eyes widened as her gaze locked onto a
sight on the far ship. Following her eyes, I couls see a dark
head peeking from behind one the the rotting masts of the
Drofnats' ship. The leering leader caught her gaze and the
soundless enunciation, "Abre..." with her startled lips. The man
suddenly leapt behind her and pulled both arms behind her back,
pinning her wrists together in his large left hand. He then
looked over her shoulder at the young Abret, face flushed with
embarassment.
    Her attacker's free hand rose from his waist. The morning
sun's glint revealed a long curved knife poised over the woman's
head. The attacker was not looking at Disproul, however, but
rather at Abret; his face derided Abret for his stupidity, and
the menacing knife informed the Prince that his throne now lay at
risk if the woman lived to tell of his intra-family treachery.
Young Abret's mouth opened to begin a horrified protest, but no
words came out. He tried again, but failed to speak. Finally,
with eyes pleading at Disproul's for forgiveness, the young
sovereign sadly turned away in acquiescence, and before the
princess could react, the knife swung down in a flashing arc.
Blood gouted from the neck of the now dead woman.
     From the stairway through which Disproul had stepped just
moments before rose a child's terrified scream. A small girl of
perhaps three years, with dark curls, rushed forward at the
assailant. The man intercepted the child and roughly grasped her
by the armpits, raising her to his face.  Just then she was
followed from belowdecks by a young boy of the same age, though
slightly taller and with somewhat lighter-colored hair, who
apparently was alerted by the girl's screams.  As the lad raised
his head and all were given a clear view of the boy, I started,
for his features were somehow hauntingly familiar to me.  Behind
me, I heard a female voice, likely that of Serjeena, mutter "Oh,
my god," as though she did recognize it. Two of the boarding
attackers quickly intercepted the boy and literally threw him
back down the staircase.
     Disproul's slayer shook the small bundle of dark curls now
clutched in his hands. The girl continued to shriek and try to
twist away. As she did, her face turned toward me, and I heard
myself gasp. I did recognize this face. It could be none other
than that of of a young Rebca, the maidservant to Princess
Paleem!
     In the tableau, the murderer slapped the young girl into
sobbing quiescence with a quick smack, as though wreaking
vengeance for the slap received moments before from the woman he
had killed. "Listen, you little bitch. You will shut up now, and
if I or anyone else hears another sound out of you at any time
for the rest of your life I will find you and slit your throat
just like I did your mother's!" The girl's sob broke off
suddenly. She remained hanging in his arms, her mouth and eyes
wide open with a soundless wail of agony and fear. The man
literally threw the child, young Rebca, at the nearest one of his
attacking legions, who barely caught the girl before she would
have struck a railing and tumbled overboard.
      At that moment, a cry came from halfway up the rigging.
"Milord, there is an approaching ship, and its sails appear to
bear the crest of the Cardinal!"
     The leader of the invading Drofnats muttered a curse.
Swiveling his head as though to regain his bearings, he barked
out commands for the boarding party to gather together on the
deck. "We have only a moment to get our ship out of here before
this new ship spots us. Leave those two children down below; they
can't identify anything and will slow down this new ship if it
decides to stop us. And for heaven's sake don't tell our client
on the ship that we found children here; he's weak-livered enough
as it is."
     "Jaze, look out!" An unfamiliar female voice pierced the
dungeon and the tableau winked out. By instinct I whirled just in
time to see the blade of a heavy axe hefted by Novan arcing
toward my head. I dropped to a squat and the sharp iron weapon
whistled over my head, missing it by inches, and nearly struck
Paleem. The blade's heavy weight threw Novan's center of gravity
off to the side. Placing my hand on the floor for a base, I swung
a kick around onto the side of the man's knee. With a scream, he
fell heavily. Before he could rise, I scrambled to my feet and
kicked him in the face, my instep planting itself neatly at the
point of his jaw. Novan crumpled to the floor on his back.
    Two of the Drofnats guards rushed over and grabbed me from
behind, while a third pulled his sword and rested the tip against
my throat. I could see his bicep clench in prelude to a backpull
needed to drive the sharpened point through my Adam's apple.
    "Enough!" The King's voice bellowed. The guard hesitated, as
though measuring his chances of getting away with the completion
of his stroke and insisting that the King's command came too
late. Finally, he dropped the sword, and the two other guards
released my arms. The King strode over to me, and as though
addressing the walls themselves, intoned, "There will be no more
killing for my throne, miserable seat that it is."
    I stared at the King, all the while resisting the racing of
my mind. If Rebca was the daughter of the King's cousin who was
murdered but who could have been the Queen....
    Abret walked heavily over to Queen Serjeena, whose eyes were
brimming with tears of sadness and revulsion. After an emotional
inner struggle, he managed to look into her face. "My wife, my
queen; I know that ours was a marriage arranged of politics and
the joining of territories. Still, I have given you children and
the throne that my father promised you would be ours to hold
jointly. Now you know the terrible secret that has haunted me for
so long. And now, I know that there are others who live who are
more entitled, and more worthy, to wield the sceptre of our
kingdom than I. Even if those who viewed this recounting today
were held to silence, the joining of the jewels has brought the
powers of the mages back to the land, and somehow the word would
leak out, like water from an uncaulked bucket. Were I to maintain
the throne over the righteous abhorrence of the people, the name
Abret and all associated with it would be rendered to a curse, an
insult, for any who would carry them."
   Tears now welled up in the husky monarch's eyes. He looked
down at the floor, and then strode toward the door slowly. The
guards fell in beside him. Abret stopped, and turned toward us.
"I will be abdicating the throne. I have long contemplated that
the sole salve for my tormented soul is a pilgrimage to the
ancient holy lands of Berkeer. Perhaps in five or ten years, I
can return and serve - as a servant - the new monarch. I can only
hope that those who rightly inherit the throne that I usurped
will treat my wife and children kindly." He nodded to the guards,
who preceded him through the heavy door.
    All in the room were stunned and silent, as if frozen in a
winter's icebank. Paleem and Lorena stared at Rebca, who clutched
her throat.  At that instant, I realized that the warning to me
of Novan's attack could only have come from Rebca.  The ebony-
tressed beauty was stunned from her muteness by reliving the very
attack which had cost her both her voice and her mother. Lindea
stared at Serjeen compassionately, realizing what the loss of her
husband and his throne would mean to the woman. Serjeen, oddly,
gaped at me. Only Phrenshraw acted, ordering the remaining guards
to uncuff Lindea and arrest the groggy, stunned Novan; the guards
shuffled uneasily, but finally complied.
    Rebca stumbled over to me and grasped my hand. Her newly-
found, soft sweet voice murmured, "Oh my, oh my, oh my....."
Serjeen came over and awkwardly embraced the two of us,
exclaiming, "What an amazing adventure you've had, and will
have."
    I looked at her, my amazement surely written all over my
face. "Your Highness, I'm afraid you have lost me somewhere in
here. Adventure?"  Serjeen's dark, piercing eyes explored mine,
framed as they were in her high, chiseled cheekbones.
    She laughed. "You don't understand, do you?" My expression
didn't change.  "I guess monasteries don't carry very many
looking glasses, and we would not recognize ourselves even as we
are now from any vantage point other than that from looking
straight into a glass."
    Serjeen cupped my cheek thoughtfully. "Jaze, that young boy
on the boat, the one who rushed to rescue his sister? That boy
was you. Why do you think Novan attacked you. Rebca and you were
the twins that Disproul bore from the cardinal. Had she been
named Queen, you would have been Prince and Princess. What I'm
saying is that you and Rebca are the rightful heirs to the
throne."
    My throat caught, and my heart pounded unmercifully. Only a
miracle kept me on my feet as I stared into Serjeena's face,
which exposed not a hint of doubt as to her conclusion. I glanced
at the faces of the others, who all nodded in silent agreement;
they too had seen an unmistakeable resemblance between that boy
and me.
    Phenshraw stepped forward and clasped my shoulders. "Think
about it, boy, er, milord, uh... oh, the hell with it! That you,
a mere foundling, should be borne with such physical gifts that
one would associate with those whose forebearers had used them to
take a throne and carve out an empire: such gifts as athletics,
and music and ... I suppose there are others."
    He looked around the room, and Lindea nodded, then halted,
horrified at her implicit confession. "No, my Prince, it is not
that - well, not just that - but I have sensed from him a regal
lineage before."
    The Prince smiled charitably, and continued. "Recall how the
powers of the jewels - at least the clarity of the tableau -
increased as you came close to them. And the sound came forth
when Rebca joined the group." I thought back, and nodded. "That
effect - caused it is said when royalty participate in the
jewels' use - was not nearly so strong when my parents or Paleem
and I were near. So, it would appear to be clear. The cardinal's
vessel - apparently sent out to escort his secret lover - found
the abandoned ship and returned with the two foundlings. The
cardinal, sensing that the children were his own, could not of
course reveal their identities as their very lives would be
forfeit, and had them placed in the two settings that he felt
were safe for them - a monastery and the castle of the King
himself. In his shame for his failure to maintain his own vows,
the cardinal went on his own pilgrimage, which eventually cost
him his life."
     The crone, who had remained silently sitting by the side of
the brick-walled room, suddenly stirred and and struggled to
her feet, joining us at the table. Her piercing gaze probed at
me, and then Rebca. "Yes," she croaked, "these are the children
from the boat. The boy, the elder, and then his sister, born
minutes later." Lindea, standing with her still-cuffed hands
stretched over the glowing jewels as though warming them before a
fire's embers, nodded in confirmation.
     I turned toward Rebca, my vision blurring with tears. At
last, I had a family! We hugged, squeezing each other tight, then
simultaneously stiffened, recalling at the same time our amorous
trysts two nights previously. I had both fucked and been sucked
by my sister! After the initial shock, Rebca started laughing at
our embarassment - needless in view of our ignorance of our
kinship at the time of our lustful joining. Paleem and Serjeena,
who both had been witness to our lovemaking, joined in. A moment
later, Lorena's eyes widened with realization, and she too
doubled over with laughter. Phrenshraw and Lindea stared at each
other in puzzlement.
    The prince shook his head and spoke. "I know not of this jest
that mysteriously has overcome you all, but we have more pressing
matters to attend to." Turning to me, he somberly added. "Jaze,
my cousin, it now appears that you are the rightful and, it would
seem in view of your steadfast and intelligent pursuit of the
villainous Novan, most worthy heir to the throne upon my father's
abdication. I stand ready to serve you, Your Highness." With
that, Phrenshraw knelt and bowed his head. He motioned to the
others to do the same.
    My face flushed with realization. The kingdom! It was mine! I
was to be the King, and all would serve ME! I envisioned that
festivals aplenty could be held at my command, with armies of
young maidens, ripe breasted and wet with lust for their monarch,
bidden to service me at my every whim.
    The image flew through my mind in an instant. I would sit in
the tent and watch as sultry maidens on the stage would dance
before the assembled royals, but the fairest of the lot would
come into my tent only.  Jenfeer, the leggy stunner with the
blonde braid that extended to the middle of her luscious
buttocks, would arrive, and I would ingest through her kiss the
sacred aphrodisiac herbs of the priests - as much as I liked! I
could almost taste the sweetness of her tongue dueling with my
own. At the same time, the young blonde triplets who had serviced
Abret would flit around me, disrobing me with tiny, skillful
hands, their thin-lipped mouths caressing and sucking at each
inch of flesh they expose. My organ began to stiffen as I
envisioned three sets of lips wetly touching my hips; as their
small hands tugged my embroidered silken breeches over my thighs
and down my legs, two sets of lips would clamp onto each side of
the shaft and two tiny tongues would lap lightly along the base
and over my balls. A third lovely faced frames with the cornsilk
hair shared by the sisters would look up at me from the front,
and the girl's sky blue eyes would gaze into mine as her tiny
mouth lightly sucked at my tip.
    After enjoying their ministrations, I would receive the
honey-haired Auria, and perhaps start by slaking my lust by
prodding at the entrance of her moist tunnel while clutching her
magnificently shaped ass. As she had earlier that day, the
slender vixen would face away from me and drop into my lap and be
impaled upon my stiff shaft.  While she rode up and down on my
cunt-filling cock, my hands would reach around her slim torso and
toy with the perky nipples on her full, rounded breasts. While
she rode above me, her dark-haired fellow concubine, the stunning
Onassa, would kneel between our thighs and lap at the joining of
our sexes, rolling her tongue around Auria's swollen clit and
then descending to wash my rod as it emerged from Auria's moist
tunnel, and even lave at my balls. Finally, I would be drawn to
my release by Auria's clever and skillful pussy muscles caressing
me as though they were fingers encased in a silk glove. As my
seed spurted from Auria's overfilled love tunnel, Onassa would
gratefully suck it in through pursed lips.
    After a glass of chilled wine, Charel and her cousin Licia
would revive my spent cock with their willing young mouths, and
then my eyes would survey the grounds for the next morsel of
young flesh who had been recruited for the corps of concubines
and maidservants. Any woman would be more than grateful to
receive the lustful attentions of her King. What a life it would
be!
    I looked around and saw that indeed all in the room, even the
crone, had knelt before me, eyes locked to the floor - all except
for Rebca, whose ebony eyes searched my own uncertainly. Our
thoughts, even our very moral values, danced in the shared vision
that passed between us.  Our hopes, and our duties, were aligned.
At that moment, I knew in my heart for the first time that Rebca
was indeed my sister, my twin. I smiled at her, and lowered my
eyes.
    "Please," I called out, "please rise." Everyone did. "The
honor you accord tugs at the depths of all men's desires, and to
be sure if makes for a terrific fantasy, but it is not my destiny
to be King. Whatever may have occurred to my mother" - I nearly
choked on the word, having learned of her and then watched her
die only moments apart - "Abret has been the King for the past
fifteen years and you have been raised as the King's Queen" - I
nodded at Serjeena - "and the heirs to his throne. I have been
trained to serve meals to the brothers at the monastery here in
Speysard. I have no more business being King than I do being a
bird or a fish. And, with Abret's abdication, the explanations
that would be required for others to accept my presence on the
throne would likely rend the kingdom apart."
    Rebca was now beaming, and clutched my arm in affection. I
turned toward the Prince. "Clearly, the throne should be that of
Phrenshaw. On every occasion when he could have been low, or
mean, or unmindful of those of lesser station, or taken advantage
of his position of authority over others, he has instead shown
kindness and insisted that rewards go only to the worthy. I
gladly express my fealty to him, and to his family." Looking at
Rebca, I added, "...and Rebca and I ask only for the opportunity
to continue this service."  She nodded her agreement.
     Phrenshaw looked almost sheepish in his admiration for my
act, and in his gratitude. Serjeen exchanged glances with her
children, and she turned back to me. "In giving up your throne,
Lord Jaze - and henceforth you will be a Lord, my son will see to
that - you only confirm your royal lineage." She arched her neck
and kissed me lightly on the cheek, pausing to whisper into my
ear, "And have made my blood boil so that I insist that I be
permitted to deliver by this evening's end that reward I promised
you for your assistance." She smiled meaningfully as she stepped
away.
     Phrenshaw hugged me now and playfully punched at my
shoulder. "Indeed, it will be Earl Jaze and Lady Rebca, and you
both will be asked to serve in the Castle. Milord, the skills and
ingenuity you have shown over the past few days have convinced me
that you shall be my most trusted minister.  The joining of the
lineages of the royalty and the priesthood has without question
created a young man of wisdom and ... well, I'm not sure if
holiness is the right word for one so randy; well, in any case, I
might not ever permit you to return to the lands I will bestow
upon you, so reliant will I be upon your counsel."
     He then turned to the luscious, dark Lindea. He slowly knelt
before her. Looking into her eyes, he uttered, "Milady Lindea, I
have been in your thrall for so long, and pray that you did not
think my attentions were simply the dalliances of a prince for a
lass who served him. You are in all ways truly of royalty
yourself. I ask that you take my hand in marriage, not only to
help me rule this Kingdom as my Queen, but to join our peoples
and end the second-class status so wrongly imposed upon the
gypsies."
     Lindea smiled, but certainly did not swoon the way one might
have expected from one who heretofore had been a laundress. "But
my Prince. Are you ready for marriage? To forsake all others but
me?" Phrenshaw's smiled froze, but he nodded. Lindea laughed.
"Oh, just as I thought. Well, as long as you're discreet with
your attentions and do not neglect me, I will not make this
marriage a prison." Phrenshaw's smile resumed at full power.
Lindea continued, "Besides, Lindea may have some discreet
indiscretions of her own in mind." Her eyes flicked to meet mine
momentarily, then returned to his, where they were greeted by his
laughing assent. I nearly fainted; in the course of seconds I had
been offered the favors of two different queens!
     Serjeena interrupted the beaming couple.  "This is fabulous!
Lindea, you have just the sort of qualities I like in a queen;
you don't take any bilgewater from your King. Come with me and
I'll explain how a new queen and a queen mother can keep the
Kingdom running smoothly. Besides, you need some more regal
clothes; your left tit is showing."  The two slipped through the
door, with Phrenshaw's worried eyes following them.
    The Prince turned back to us. "Lorena," he commanded. The
disheveled blonde bounced forward, her old flirtatiousness now
directed toward the soon-to-be King.
    "Yes, Your Discreteness", she giggled, giving her full
breasts an extra wiggle. Rebca punched her lightly in the ribs,
hoarsely uttering in a stage whisper, "Lorena, it's not polite to
address the King with a commoner's cum still on your upper lip."
Lorena reddened and quickly rubbed at her lip while we laughed,
then bristled as she realized her face was spotless and that
Rebca was playing a joke on her.
    "Lorena," Phrenshaw repeated, "you will please take care of
accomodations upstairs for my cousins Jaze and Rebca. I'm afraid
you may have to give up your own chamber for Rebca, as nice as it
is, but I'm sure that the concubines will be more than happy to
take you in for the nonce. And do see to this esteemed gypsy
woman; she too is an honored guest." Lorena gulped, but nodded,
slowly. Rebca strode out of the room with Lorena and the old
woman at her heels.
     Phrenshaw turned to me. "It has been quite a day for us all,
and I imagine quite a week for you. I will go upstairs and lend
comfort to my father. For all that he may have done, he is my
father and a good man, and I will miss him while he is away. I
will see you both soon." He turned and left, and suddenly the
room, so crowded before, seemed very large with just Paleem and
me.
     I found my breath hard to find as I turned to stare into the
lovely green eyes of the stunning princess. She smiled shyly. I
started to speak, stuttered, and then finally made my voice work.
"Your Highness, at last we meet. Somehow, I feel I've known you
for some time."
     Her smile brightened. My heart thereupon lurched, and leapt,
and nearly left me.  She extended her hand, which my own
trembling hand took softly. "Oh, Lord Jaze - or Second Cousin
Jaze - whichever seems more comfortable to you. I do seem to know
a great deal about you, and what skills you possess. As a
counselor to the new King, you would be willing - would you not -
to share of those skills with his spinster sister?"
     The lightness of my head was nearly set aflame with the
fever that rushed through my body. I wanted to hold and squeeze
and become a part of this magnificent woman-child, to caress her
fiery locks and kiss her soft, ruby-like lips. I stuttered again,
and she giggled, and then I recovered. "Oh, my Princess, I gladly
would share with you whatever skills I have - and with none other
than you - forever and ever, till the cliffs of Solstice Castle
have washed into the sea."
    Paleema raised her arms and put them around my neck. Her
middle finger rubbed lightly at the nape, sending the heated
chill of lightning from my head to my feet, with an extra stop or
two in my loins. She leaned up, placing her lips close to mine.
"Oh, I would not want to harbor for myself alone all of your
gifts. That would hardly be fair to you, or others." Her lips
pressed against mine, and I felt of a thousand rose petals, each
delicately placed, kissing my own two lips. My knees shook, and I
pressed her to me to keep my balance.
     "Besides," she whispered into my mouth, "I not only want to
partake of these gifts.  Remember - I like to watch...."

                         THE END


-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |