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Tamsyn - 2
by Realoldbill (address withheld)

***

The young lady tries a new knight and rids herself of 
a nearby menace. (Mf, v)

***

PART 2: Dispatching the Duke

"Did you see the young slut?" asked the duke, wiping 
at his full lips with his hand. He patted his huge 
belly in satisfaction and held out his goblet for 
another refill.

"Aye, sire," the bowing beggar said. "What they said 
is true. She is fair indeed."

"How old do you think?"

The servant shook his head, "Not twenty I'm sure."

"Is the place guarded?"

The man shook his head. "Barely and poorly."

"Fine, fine," said the duke fishing a coin from his 
waist and waving the ragged man away. He patted the 
young girl laboring between his legs on the top of her 
curly head and said, "Slower, bitch. How many times 
must I tell you? Send in Roth," he yelled.

The young knight entered and bowed, holding his sword 
steady, his groin still bulging from having recently 
served his mistress, the Duchess, in her bedchamber 
until she blubbered with pleasure and his back ached 
from effort. Someday, he was sure, his leigelord, the 
foul Duke, would find them out and then there would be 
hell to pay, but for now, it was one of his morning 
duties.  One he enjoyed thoroughly for the young 
duchess was the foul man's third wife, and a lovely 
one at that who was constantly attempting to find new 
and more exciting positions in which to swive.

"You know the bitch who calls herself Lady Tamsyn, 
over in the next county?" asked the Duke with a wave 
toward the setting sun, patting the girl sucking him 
on her bare back for she was now doing him at just the 
right speed and depth, her tongue a wonder, her throat 
a well of excitement. "Calls herself a duchess, the 
murdering bitch. I knew her brother. Fine boy. Hunted 
with him many times." He clenched his teeth as the 
girl raked him with hers.

"Aye, sir, we met at the fair as you may recall. I 
know her guard captain better I'm sure, a brave man 
and a loyal one as well." He adjusted his fancy 
codpiece, his thick manhood still eager for more.  The 
young woman had begged him to return, and he had 
eagerly promised her that he would.

"I want to see her. Here." He handed over a wax sealed 
envelope. "Take this to her and wait for her reply. If 
she asks, tell her I insist. I may not be her ruler, 
but I am a Duke, the nearest one to her land. Tell her 
that her fine keep looks very flammable to you." He 
chuckled as he felt the youngster with his cods in her 
hand try to swallow his glans and fail again.

Roth bowed and smiled. Tamsyn was burned into the 
young knight's memory, perhaps the most luscious 
female he had seen in his two dozen years, a veritable 
succubus in velvet and lace whose ripe body moved cat-
like beneath her light robes. He packed some food into 
his saddle bags, kissed the barkeep's wench open 
mouthed while he mauled one of her huge dugs, and rode 
west although the day was nearly spent. 

By full dark he felt he was more than halfway to his 
goal, hobbled his horse, ate his meal, relieved 
himself, rolled up in his blanket, pictured Tamsyn and 
held his rigid cock until he slept. He rose at dawn, 
pissed, gave his horse some oats, chewed some bread 
and meat, masturbated to ejaculation leaning against a 
tree and moaning with relief, and was on his way, 
leaving an oak dripping sperm down its ridged trunk.

Roth found Tamsyn's wide gate open and unguarded, rode 
to the stable, saw to his mount and approached the 
main house, dusting his clothes. The young man felt 
himself becoming aroused by the idea of seeing the 
keep's young mistress. He already missed serving his 
foul lord's fair lady, his usual morning duty.

Tamsyn, at just that moment, was raising her warm body 
from that of her guard captain who had managed to 
satisfy her twice before lapsing into sated lethargy, 
a smile on his bearded face. "Lazy pig, good-for- 
nothing," Tamsyn said with a laugh as she dismounted 
from his long but soggy member and let it splat down 
on his well-muscled belly. She bent to kiss his throat 
and then gathered up her nightgown and went to make 
her morning ablutions with his spend seeping down her 
sleek thighs. 

By now she was almost sure that her brother's foul 
torture had made her barren, unable to be impregnated. 
She still felt the monstrous engine he drove into her 
from time to time and shuddered as her ravaged vagina 
convulsed.

A half-hour later, at her call, Roth appeared in the 
dining hall, his sword hilt in his hand where he 
wished his cock could be when he was before her. 
Tamsyn offered him food but he declined, hardly able 
to take his eyes from the young woman's nearly bare 
chest as it rose beneath her sheer lace and above her 
fancy stays. 

Her breasts were like a pair of ripe melons in a 
basket of frills for the top two closurers of her 
decorated corset had not been done. He handed over his 
message and said, "I was told to wait for a reply, 
madam." Her shadowed eyes seemed an invitation to 
copulation, and he trembled and bit his lower lip as 
he felt his sizable member quiver in its quilted home.

Tamsyn glanced up at him, cocked her head, studied his 
straining codpiece, briefly wondered if it were 
padded, and smiled. Men, she sighed, such a feeble 
sex, all the same, all impatient. She sliced open the 
message with her bone-handled dining knife and 
unfolded it. Duke Phillip, son of the late, great Duke 
Grant his likely father and a friend of her late, 
lamented sire, and lord of that king-bestowed manor, 
now in ill-repair, summoned her with a flowery 
invitation to a ball a fortnight hence. She read it 
through twice and tossed it over her shoulder with a 
brief smile.

Roth saw his lord's message slide into the smoldering 
fireplace where a large roast was on the spit. Paper 
was dear and not to be wasted like that.

"Mi'lady?" he said, blinking and watching her high 
breasts jiggle, hoping to see her rosy tits emerge.

"Tell your foul master, that slimy toad," said Tamsyn 
with a smile as she skewered a piece of chicken that 
had fallen from her pewter plate, "that I am otherwise 
engaged." She chewed and smiled, waving dismissal and 
looking away.

Roth cleared his throat.

"Is there more?" Tamsyn asked, lifting a perfect 
eyebrow. It was a gesture she had practiced before her 
looking glass.

"My Duke said that I was to remind you that, um, that 
many of your buildings have rush roofs that are, well, 
very combustible." He licked his lips as Tamsyn bent 
forward and displayed the size and shape of her 
luscious bosom as she reached for a flask of oil. He 
felt his male organ tremble and attempt to rise.

Tamsyn noted the cock twitch as she dipped a piece of 
bread. She smiled. "You are Sir Roth are you not, 
knighted on last St. Stephen's feast by the king's 
envoy?"

Roth nodded, surprised.

"I am tempted to tell your master that I fed my 
brother his cods and that I will be happy to do the 
same for him if he has any, but I will not ask you to 
carry that message, sir knight. Please thank him for 
his timely warning." She waved her hand in dismissal. 
Then, not hearing his footsteps, she looked up, still 
chewing and openly amused. There he stood, red faced 
and horny.

"M'lady," said Roth, feeling sweat beading on his 
brow, his stomach churning. "Are you accepting men 
into your service? Knights, I mean?"

Tamsyn feigned surprise and blinked at him. "I thought 
you had left, sir. No, why do you ask? I'm sure I 
cannot afford a knight nor do I need another."

"I would be happy to serve you in any way you thought 
best," he said, holding her icy eyes as he went down 
to one knee. "I am acquainted with John of the Moors, 
son of old William the hunter, the captain of your 
guard. He can vouch for my skills. I would gladly 
serve under him."

"Really?" she said, and then louder, "Guard!"

One of her loyal men stepped into the hall and 
grounded his pike. She had only four left after 
dismissing her brother's lecherous sycophants.

"Show this gentleman to the gate and see that he 
leaves," she said. "I am not interested in any man who 
would be a lackey of Duke Phillip the Foul." She 
stabbed another piece of meat.

Roth reddened to the roots of his hair, stood, bowed, 
grasped the hilt of his long sword and strode from the 
room as bravely as he could, followed by the grinning 
pikeman. The young knight had nearly pissed himself 
and was in agony.

After her meal, Tamsyn retreated to her small library 
and workroom and summoned the captain of her guards, a 
young man she had promoted the day she became duchess 
and took to her bed that night despite the painful 
state of her private places which he learned to lick. 
After all, he had beheaded his captain at her command. 
That first night they had pleasured each other only 
with their fingers and mouths.  Later he saw to the 
quartering of her brother's body and those of his 
henchmen while she tended to giving her beheaded 
father's body a decent burial.

"Gregory," she said to him after his bow, "do you know 
a young knight called Roth who serves as a Grant 
hireling?"

"Aye," he said, his body, as always, yearning for her. 
She was, he feared insatiable, but always exciting.

"And?" she asked, rearming her arched eyebrow, amusing 
herself at his expense, knowing his longing, and proud 
his manhood's girth and his endurance.

"A cocksman and whoremonger, so they say, skilled with 
the dagger, good with his fists, a gambler they tell 
me, but lacking," he paused.

"Lacking?"

"What shall I say? Verve? Heart? Mettle? Something of 
the sort. He's simply not serious. Does it for the 
pay, no heart in his service."

"I think we shall go visit our neighbor, the so-called 
duke, in his lair. Sharpen your blade. Just the two of 
us will make this trip, and if he didn't have so many 
retainers, I would go alone. Go make the necessary 
preparations. I think I would be happier and safer 
with only the old duchess next door. She's a good 
woman, my late mother's friend. We will start early 
tomorrow and you may have to dispatch the young knight 
I fear."

The guard captain, who had secured his post by lopping 
of the head of his predecessor, licked his lips and 
bowed, trembling within at the portent of his lady's 
decision. Tamsyn was angry and that was dangerous. He 
had seen her ream out men with her sharp tongue to the 
point where they knelt before her and wept. He had 
watched her castrate one of the guards who had 
assaulted her while he held the man's arms behind him. 
And she was, as far as he could tell, merciless. In 
bed, the slight girl was demanding and almost tireless 
and utterly satisfying. He did as he was bade. The 
duke's days, thought Gregory as he honed his long 
blade, were numbered and few.

They left the next dawn and before moonrise reached 
the Duke's sprawling and still-unfinished manse that 
he called a castle. They were offered cold food, and 
Tamsyn was ushered to an upstairs room. Gregory slept 
over the stable with some of the soldiers the Duke 
employed and two slatterns. He avoided them both. They 
smelled, he thought, like rotted fish.

Tamsyn sat on her small bed and asked the girl serving 
her if she knew a young knight called Roth. The girl 
smiled and admitted that she did. "Fetch him," Tamsyn 
said and gave the girl a copper coin. "Quietly."

In ten minutes Roth and the maid appeared. Tamsyn 
thanked the girl and waved the young man to the room's 
only chair. "I have been thinking," she said very 
quietly, "about your offer of service." She had 
removed her riding cape and over gown and raked out 
her lustrous hair with her fingers. It cascaded 
halfway down her slim back.

Roth smiled and crossed his long legs, proud of his 
muscular calves and thighs.

"Gregory, my guard captain, says you are a noted woman 
pleaser. Is this so?" She licked her lips as she 
untied wide laces between her high breasts.

Roth, astonished, cleared his throat and watched 
Tamsyn start to unlace her long outer vest. "I've had 
few complaints," he said with a smile and some pride, 
amused and aroused.

"I think you can tell much about a man from the way he 
loves a woman. Do you agree?"

Roth shook his head and cleared his throat as Tamsyn 
tossed her corset aside and pulled her chemise over 
her head to bare her incredible chest. Her chilled 
nipples were pink rosebuds, startled into firm 
ripeness. "I'm sure I do not know, m'lady," he managed 
to choke out. His heart stopped, or at least it seemed 
to. The young woman stood and shed her skirt and 
undergarments, stepped out of her shoes and walked 
across the room to stand before him in naught but pale 
stockings which were tied high on her strong thighs. 
Roth could not take his eyes from the vee of curls 
where her legs met below her soft belly at the 
enticing bulge of her nether lips.

"Every man in my service must prove himself, sir 
knight," Tamsyn said, restraining her smile at her 
embroidered canard. "Are you prepared to enter the 
lists?"

"S'bones," said Roth, gasping, his cock inflamed, 
painfully bent. "Bloody hell."

He had seen perhaps a score of women naked, but 
absolutely nothing like the voluptuous female standing 
before him and offering her young body. He trembled 
and felt fear for the first time he could recall as an 
adult. It was like that thunderstorm when he was very 
young, that first bolt of lightning that seemed to 
freeze his blood. He reached out but did not touch her 
hip.

"My lady," he said, embarrassed that his voice broke. 
"I can but do my best."

"Let me see your weapon then," said Tamsyn with a 
small smile. "Does it need encouragement?" She licked 
her lips salaciously as she held his blinking eyes and 
reached out her hand, palm open.

Roth whimpered as he undid his leather codpiece and 
let his prick stand forth. Tamsyn reached down and 
hefted it, tossing it up in her small hand as one 
might a potato or squash, weighing it, pursing her 
soft lips. She smiled and licked her lips, happy to 
see that he had what she constantly longed for, a 
spear of manly proportions.

She sniffed and stepped back, wiping her hand on her 
rounded hip. "I must say I am disappointed, sir. I 
fear you are not sufficiently endowed to serve in my 
retinue."

'But, but," sobbed Roth, getting to his feet, his 
proud ram standing forth straight as a post. Shocked, 
he watched as the girl recrossed the room, picked up 
her filmy nightgown and dumped it over her head. Her 
globular ass was unbelievable, supreme, wonderful and 
it rolled like a ship at sea. His cock rose another 
inch or two.

"You may leave," she said quietly, turning toward him 
and tying a ribbon at her throat. "I am sorry, truly." 
She studiously avoided looking at his groin.

"Oh my lady," he begged, dropping to his knee, his big 
cock flopping from side to side, for it was indeed a 
good-sized male member, at least the span of his hand 
in length, as big around as a plow handle and nearly 
as smooth.

Tamsyn hoisted herself up on the side of the high bed. 
She sighed. "Oh very well. You may try, but I warn 
you, abject failure or premature squirting will be met 
with derision and laughter. And I am not good at 
keeping secrets I fear." She chuckled, a sound that 
nearly pickled the man's insides and made his prick 
droop. "And I am hard to please, very hard to please. 
No man has failed twice."

Roth blanched. No woman had ever laughed at his 
efforts. Most had begged for more. Some this girl's 
age had wept and prayed him to stop.

He stripped off his jacket, sucked up a deep breath 
and stepped between the girl's wide spread legs, 
stroking himself firmly, still booted and pantalooned. 
Her nest of hair was fine and curly but her nether 
lips were tightly pursed, no bigger than a child's 
mouth, bulging but carefully folded at the top.

"I don't believe you are, ah, well, m'lady, I mean, 
ready," he said, looking into her lovely face, noting 
the scattering of freckles on her cheeks and how 
slowly she was breathing, the word "placid" came to 
his mind.

"Quite right, sirrah," said Tamsyn, pushing him down 
so his nose was at her mound. "I suggest you do what 
is needed." She held her light gown up to her narrow 
waist, hands at her sides, a very small smile on her 
lips.

Roth had not performed cunnilingus since he was 
fourteen or so and the older girls demanded it, but he 
swallowed his pride and stuck out his tongue and got 
to work, going from bottom to top of her tight slit 
very slowly and as deeply as possible and petting her 
wondrously smooth thighs and buttocks as he did so, 
butting her with his nose. He slid one hands up her 
thigh, splayed her open with his thumb and then 
insinuated his forefinger.

Tamsyn sighed loudly, trying to sound impatient, and 
pushed his questing hand away. "Do the Duke and his 
lady share a bed?" she asked, as she buried one hand 
in his greasy hair and held back the pleasure she was 
feeling. He was very good at this task, deep into her 
where her flesh had been torn and abraded.

He leaned back, wiped his mouth with the back of his 
hand and said, "Seldom." Looking up at a woman from 
well below her breasts was a new view of the world for 
him. He trembled and feared failure after noting that 
her nipples were jutting well out from her globes, 
tenting the gauzy material, but his manhood was not 
fully hard again. He felt fear.

She pushed his face back against her quivering vulva, 
let her nightgown fall to the back of his neck and 
said, "Deeper." Tamsyn was aware that her little prick 
had emerged from its hiding place and was seeking 
attention.

He licked and sucked, and the young woman wiggled and 
changed the position of her pelvis, lifting it for 
attention. She was now warm and wet, but her hand on 
the back of his head told him he had more work to do 
although his tongue was already tired and sore. Tamsyn 
gnawed her lower lip when he tongued her little love 
nub but barely shivered as she came, feeling the 
passion ripple through her loins. She sucked in her 
breath and held it until her body quieted.

The man drove his tongue deeply and shook his head 
from side to side, absorbing her juices.

Recovering her wits and taking a deep breath, Tamsyn 
pulled his head back from her now dripping quim, 
smiled down at his soaked face and asked, "Is the duke 
a good swordsman?"

"No, my lady," Roth said, his cock now painfully hard 
and rearing up against the side of the bed.

"You may stand and get to your more serious work," she 
said. "That was very pleasant." She gave him a good 
smile "Now, sir, to the lance. Your last chance in 
these pale lists." She rolled her gown higher and 
spread her legs in invitation, sitting back on the 
side of the high bed. "Concentrate on the target. And 
do not forget to follow through, be merciless. Thrust, 
sir, thrust deep!"

Roth wiped his mouth, tensed his abdomen, eased his 
big, stiff ram into the young woman's seething and 
soaking slit and fell into paradise as she enveloped 
him and sucked him inward. He had sworn to himself 
that he would be patient and give this slight girl a 
long and vigorous ride she would remember all her 
days, but he came after seven hard strokes into her 
rippling depths and gasped as he did so, his spurting 
rod jerking wildly as she milked him vigorously. He 
arched his back and fell again to his knees as his 
brave manhood slipped free, dripping jism, jerking 
from side to side.

"Your pardon, your pardon," he begged, kissing her 
stocking-clad legs. "I'm sorry, madam, so sorry.  This 
has never, never happened I swear." He kissed her soft 
belly and her fluttering outer lips.

Tamsyn patted him as one would a dog and made cooing 
sounds, repressing her cruel laugh. She pulled him to 
his feet and stripped off his undershirt, unbuckled 
his britches and told him to get undressed and to get 
in the bed. She stepped behind a curtain and cleaned 
herself as best she could at the basin, stripped off 
her stockings and when she returned, let her nightgown 
flutter to the floor, as she admired his form where he 
lay bare atop the blanket, his proud cock standing 
high in his hand, chest rising and falling rapidly. He 
was a well-made young man with fine shoulders, deep 
chest and strong legs.

Wordlessly, Tamsyn crouched over him and took his 
penis into her mouth and quickly sucked it hard and 
then she mounted him and brought his hands up to her 
jutting breasts as she wiggled her way down his 
throbbing shaft. "I was wrong," she said to him when 
he was in to the balls, "you are certainly adequate." 

Then she began to ride him, leaning forward to rub her 
tiny cock against his pubic bone, clamping him with 
her knees and letting herself move a half-foot up and 
down his striving member as she posted, teeth 
clenched. She stayed at one speed until she was sure 
the man would scream and then began to accelerate, 
both of them sweating and grunting with effort. 

When he climaxed with a sob, she did not even pause 
but went faster and harder, gritting her teeth and 
lifting her chin as she neared her crisis, her little 
death, her orgasm. The room filled with the sounds of 
wet flesh smacking and old bed slats creaking.

Once she had stopped shuddering and clamping on his 
spent phallus, Tamsyn rolled off the shattered young 
man and lay beside him, looking at the ceiling while 
he tried to remember how to breathe. "If you wish to 
serve me," she said quietly. "You may. We will speak 
of this tomorrow, after breakfast perhaps." She turned 
her head and kissed his stubbly cheek. "You may go."

She watched him dress by the flickering lamplight and 
then saw him stumble from the room. She used the jar, 
wiped herself carefully with a smile on her lips and 
slept, her vagina pleasantly sore and well satisfied.

In the morning Tamsyn broke her fast with the quiet 
and regal duchess in her bedchamber, and they 
discussed their lands. Tamsyn suggested that she might 
like to rent a large meadow that was lying fallow and 
pasture some sheep. The lady of the manor said she 
thought that was a splendid idea and that the land in 
question was part of her dowry. They discussed 
controlling a rambling creek that meandered through 
both properties.

Then they went down together to the dining hall where 
the duke, Tamsyn's guard captain and the young knight 
she had enjoyed were at their meal.

"Ah," cried the Duke loudly, "finally, our two sluts 
have left their sinful beds."

His mother turned on her heel and stalked away, her 
face white.

Gregory stood, trembling; hand on the hilt of his 
weapon. "Sir," he said to the Duke, quite loudly, "you 
have insulted my lady. I demand an apology."

"Don't get riled, boy," the Duke said with a laugh. 
"It was but a jest. Look at her; wouldn't any man like 
to hoist that on his stiff petard? Eh?"

Gregory made to draw his blade and the Duke stood, 
threw down the joint he was chewing on and yelled, 
"You know she's a murdering bitch! A strumpet. A 
common sewer!"

"I demand satisfaction and an immediate apology sir. 
Immediate!" Gregory's face was red and his sword was 
in his hand, the blade's point waving in the Duke's 
direction.

"Roth," cried the Duke. "What are you waiting for? 
Dispose of this boy, skewer him."

The young knight smiled, crossed his legs and pursed 
his lips. "Go to hell, sire," he said loudly. He did 
not believe his oath of fealty including such behavior 
as this. Women, under all the rules of knighthood that 
he knew, were to be respected and defended.

Tamsyn crossed the room and stopped before the knight. 
"Your sword, sir," she said sharply. "I understand 
your obligation. Gregory, the door, if you please. 
I'll do this myself."

The young knight stood, drew his long, double-edged 
blade and handed its foot-long hilt to the furious 
young woman standing spraddle legged before him. 
Surprised by its weight, she let the blade fall almost 
to the stone floor before grasping the thick handle 
with both hands. The weapon weighed nearly twenty 
pounds.

With the sword tip dragging the floor at her side and 
striking sparks from the stones, Tamsyn approached the 
duke's wide table, a smile on her lips but her eyes as 
cold as death. "Draw your weapon, creatin," she said, 
showing her teeth. The randy knight had reached to 
stop her, but she shrugged him off, and now Roth sat 
watching, mesmerized, unbelieving and thoroughly 
aroused.

The duke stood and backed up, a wide smile on his 
face, drawing his light sword with is bejeweled handle 
and tripping over a chair leg as he did so. He put his 
right hand down to brace himself and Tamsyn swung from 
the floor, both hands on the heavy weapon's hilt and 
cried out with the effort. The huge blade smashed 
through both bones of the duke's wrist and into the 
tabletop as his gleaming weapon clattered to the 
floor.

He screamed and lifted his truncated arm, holding it 
with his other hand as it spouted blood like a 
fountain. Tamsyn pulled loose her wide blade with a 
grunt of effort and swung backhanded across the man's 
face; cutting him open from cheek to ear, right though 
his nose with the wide sword's tip. His left eye was 
left dangling on his cheek.

The duke stumbled back against the draperies as Tamsyn 
jumped atop the table and lunged at him, burying her 
four-inch-wide blade in his body from high on his 
chest downward so that it emerged in the small of his 
back, severing his spine and nearly eviscerating him. 
She left the broad sword in him as he fell and picked 
up the man's fancy weapon and hacked at his groin 
again and again, from left and right, until it was but 
a mound of blood, cloth and gristle. Then she tossed 
aside that weapon, wiped her hands on the table 
drapery and took a deep breath.

She spun about at a sound to find the young knight 
gagging and spitting, the floor awash with his vomit. 
"Gregory, what's afoot?" she cried.

Her guard captain strode back into the chamber and 
stopped by the startled knight who stood bent over and 
dumfounded by his chair. "They ran off," the captain 
said with a grin. "Saw what you were about and 
scattered, probably out of the parish by now." He 
laughed.

Tamsyn picked up the severed hand and put it on a 
platter. "Sir knight," she said to the trembling Roth 
with a smile, "will you take this trophy to the 
duchess. She may want that ring."

Continued in part 3...

Archivist's Note: This author did not provide an email 
address so it will do the reader no good contacting 
the archive staff for further parts. Check back at a 
later time to see if there have been any updates to 
this story by the author.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 74