I’ll kill myself first, she thought, her jaw clenching.
“What think you of that, Mother?” King Cole asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“You’ve always needed a firm hand, you know.”
She swallowed hard, blinking at him in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly believe that George-flabby, soft-bellied, soft-handed, soft-minded Georgie Porgie-could possibly be anywhere close to her match?
“And George here, well he’s up and volunteered his services.”
“I’m sure he has.” Mother looked down at the man and fought the urge to kick him-hard-the way she’d done the first time he’d accosted her alone somewhere in an attempt to kiss her quiet while he fondled and groped as much as he possibly could in the short time between surprise and indignation. He’d wanted her then, she remembered, had asked for her, had even offered both stock and a great deal of money, but Father had won out by proposing a simple test of personal strength and loyalty-hers, of course. She had held out for the man she wanted, and she had won him.
So where are you now, my love, she thought, fighting tears. She couldn’t begin to imagine, remembering him kissing her quickly, saying, “I’ll be right back,” and then disappearing in a heated shimmer through the portal. Gone for a unique flower, something odd but delectable to eat perhaps. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d skipped between worlds to bring something unusually delightful back to her. But the longest he’d ever been gone was a week.
“I hear he’s found someone else,” George said behind his hand in a stage whisper to the King. “A young blonde over there, a long, tall drink of water that one.” Mother’s spine stiffened, her eyes flashing as she turned on him, about to let go six month’s worth of worry and rage on the little man in the presence of the King, but Blue’s voice stopped her just in time.
“Old Mother Hubbard told me she saw him, though,” Blue countered, making them all look over in surprise. “I meant to tell you earlier today,” he said in a low tone to Mother. “I talked to her this morning,” Blue went on, looking at the King. “Said he was looking for something. Calling through the portal. She tried to answer him, but he was gone again. Perhaps he’s just lost his way?”
The King frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, this is interesting news.” George waved his hand, rolling his eyes. “Rumor! Gossip! I was there, I tell you!
The man is missing!”
Blue shrugged. “Just because you didn’t see him, doesn’t mean someone else didn’t.”
“Perhaps we should send out a search party?” The King looked up at Mother’s pale face. “What think you, Mother? Would you like that?”
“I’d prefer it to a premature death declaration, followed by being paired off with someone of much less…stature.” She said this last as kindly as she could, through clenched teeth. George narrowed his eyes, sputtering, but his blustering was interrupted by the beginning of the dinner entertainment.
“The wall! The wall!” The cry went up throughout the hall, and the King laughed, clapping and looking up to where a man was already scaling a high wall on the other side of the room. There was a large arch at the top, where the man could sit and look down at the crowd below. He was completely nude, and even from this distance, Mother glimpsed his cock, standing straight up like an arrow, the largest one she’d ever seen.
“Humpty’s gonna get his fill tonight,” George cackled, licking his lips, his hand moving over his own breeches, caressing what lay below. “Look at the girls lined up!”
They lined up as if the Pied Piper himself had come to call, as if the man’s enormous cock were a divining rod, calling out some mystical tune. Mother had never gone, although Father had given her permission, but she had seen this show a thousand times, and it still never failed to fascinate her. It obviously still amused the King-he cheered as one of his men threw one of the girls, completely nude of course, over his shoulder and carried her up the ladder toward the waiting man sitting in the archway.
“Hump! Hump! Hump!” The cry went up as the girl thrashed and squealed, surely making her hard to hold. The element of danger was part of the excitement-they both could have been killed if they slipped from the archway and fell to the hard, cold stone floor below. The king’s men were there, of course, and so far, they had caught them all…but you just never knew.
Mother never understood why they struggled so, after standing in line, anticipating the fuck, but they did. Perhaps it was part of the act, or the rush of adrenaline, or just that first, shocking pierce of the man’s member-no one could remember his name anymore, he’d be “Hump” for so long, and the kids all called him
“Humpty Dumpty”-but whatever the reason, the girls always writhed and cried before they started moaning in pleasure.
“Is she all right, Mother?” Jill asked softly, concerned, pressing against her mistress’ side. Hump had the blonde by the hips, situated firmly in his lap and impaled on his cock. Her breasts swayed as he pumped, his big arms used to the motion, and she hung nearly suspended, looking down at the knights below, her eyes wide with fear at first before the sensation of being fucked began to take over.
“Look at her face, precious,” Mother murmured, petting the girl’s red hair as she pulled her closer. Of course, it wasn’t just her face that belied her pleasure. The blonde’s moans reached the crowd and she reached back, grasping the man’s hips, unable to move of her own volition, her legs dangling. He did all the work, thrusting, pumping, driving her toward climax. When it came, she screamed, her head thrown back, eyes closed, face and chest flushed a bright, rosy red, and Hump growled in triumph, letting her hips go completely.
Her scream continued all the way down as six knights gathered close together to catch her fall. She collapsed into their arms, dizzy and gasping, and Hump laughed from above, a low, sexy sound.
“Next!”
And so another girl, slung over the shoulder of a man, began her struggling ascent, and the kitchen doors opened at the same time, cooks carrying trays of steaming hot food to the tables.
“Let’s eat!” the King declared, putting his arm around George and staring toward the head table. He glanced over his shoulder at Mother, his eyes skipping over to the redhead beside her, and called, “You too, Mother dear. To me, to me!” And so they found themselves with front row seats to the grinding, grunting show above as they ate their roasted squab and asparagus. Jill still sat close to Mother, Jack pressed to her other side, whispering things throughout the meal. George kept frowning at her trainees’ lack of discipline, but Mother ignored him and his opinion, talking instead to the Queen, whose experience with little Muffy was thankfully satisfactory. She always had looked so good in red.
“She dances for the King nearly every night,” the Queen confided, sounding proud. “She’s quite an accomplished little thing.”
The King overheard them, sucking the grease from the cooked bird off his fingers, his eyes brightening. “Quite!” he agreed, lifting his head and calling. “My pipe!