Ricky Fuld

Chapter Three.
How the Baron Discovered the Worst 

(mm, fm, mmmm, ugug)

But Baron Knobthrob was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now muttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely with the fever of his wound. His testicles were swollen to the size of cricket balls and his dick was ragged, red and torn, but to nobody would he disclose the exact source of his injury. But one day he woke again to the things about him.

He turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there sat Horace Hangnail and the big-dicked Browndick. Two or three other retainers stood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath, jesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy oaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.

"Where is thy lady?" said the Baron, presently; "and why is she not with me at this time?"

The man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice, and those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Horace Hangnail and the big-dicked Browndick looked at one another, and neither of them spoke. The Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought him to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a groan.

"Why do you not answer me?" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then to the big-dicked Browndick, "Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping there like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?"

"I - I do not know," stammered poor Browndick.

For a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other, then he spoke again. "How long have I been lying here?" said he.

"A sennight, my lord," said Master Trousersnot, the steward, who had come into the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.

"A sennight," repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master Trousersnot, "And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?" Master Trousersnot hesitated. "Answer me," said the Baron, harshly.

"Not - not often," said Master Trousersnot, hesitatingly.

The Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over his face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before anyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat upright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red spot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and haggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot. Great drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat there swaying slightly from side to side. His penis flopped out of his breeches and hang against his blue-veined legs.

"My shoes," said he, hoarsely.

Master Trousersnot stepped forward. "But, my Lord Baron," he began and then stopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood still in his head.

Browndick saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees and, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern shoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs above the instep.

"Your shoulder," said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping Browndick in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a moment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started forth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.

At the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness, and there Master Thunderpants, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent one of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.

"Thou must go back again, Knobthrob," said Master Thunderpants; "thou art not fit to be abroad."

The Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of his bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth again upon his way.

Down the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following silently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step, now and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long and gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the further end.

He stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this passage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.

No one was within but Flaptrap, who sat legs apart by the fire with her fingers in her pussy. She did not see the Baron or know that he was there.

"Where is your lady?" said he, in a hollow voice.

Then the nurse looked up with a start. "Jesus bless us," cried she, and crossed herself.

"Where is your lady?" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice; and then, not waiting for an answer, "Is she dead?"

The woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and then suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to hear no more.

As though in answer to the woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came from the bundle in her lap.

At the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. "What is that you have there?" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old woman's knees.

She drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby, that once again raised its faint reedy pipe.

"It is your son," said Flaptrap, "that the dear Baroness left behind her when the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called him Hardwood before she left us."

The Baron was saddened by the news of his wife's demise, but his retainers knew what to do to comfort him in his misery. Browndick elbowed Flaptrap aside and pushed the Baron back onto the Baroness' servant's bed. His mouth soon enveloped the Baron's hard cock and began to fellate his master.

The Baron enjoyed fucking Browndick's beautiful butt and he reasoned that fellatio would be most welcome and he lay back to enjoy it.

In his head were memories of the knights in armour, Horace Hangnail and of course Browndick, of course all were naked, some of the jousters were hard like the day he got initiated in the armoury and had been their sperm target.

Browndick's blowjob took a long time. Just when the Baron thought he was going to explode, Browndick seemed to slow down and pay attention to the Baron's balls, belly and thighs. Browndick was playing him like an instrument, getting him close then notletting him ejaculate.

The Baron was almost irate but each time Browndick would start again with another sensation he hadn't had before and the trip to the cusp of orgasm would begin. The Baron knew the last rise would be the right one, he felt Browndick's finger in his butthole massaging, probing and going deeper. He was being finger fucked and blown and his orgasm would soon be draining him of all energy.

It came too soon, lasted for a surprising long time and left him exhausted.

"Gadzooks sire, thou know what thou doest.' The Baron said. Browndick smiled, The Baron's semen dripping from his lips.

"Oh yea" Browndick said "but that was the best ever"

The Baron requested another hand job and that was fine with him. Then he saw Browndick reach behind him and apparently put some spit in his ass.

"Just go slow," Browndick said as he turned around presenting his butt to the Baron. It had been quite awhile since Horace last mounted him to bed. The fucking hurt at first but then Browndick became addicted returning to Horace's bed whenever he knew his wife was elsewhere.

The Baron's cock pressed into him, "Art thou sure about this?" The Baron asked.

"Oh yea" Browndick said "I've wanted to give thee this for a long time"

The Baron began to fuck the tight butt he had relished. Browndick told him what to do and he was soon lifting Browndick's leg to go deeper inside. Then Browndick lay on his back his legs over the Baron's shoulder so he would watch the Baron as he continued to fuck.

"Zounds this is hard work" the Baron said

"Dost thou wish to tarry awhile?" Browndick asked

"Nay" the Baron smiled, his sweat dripping from his face, armpits and chest. He glowed in the night his sweaty body reflecting the bedside candlelight.

When he came it was as if every ounce of moister inside him was pouring out into Browndick's ass.

He collapsed on top of his servant.

"What's next?" he asked.

"'Tis verily my turn" Browndick said and patted the Baron's ass

Hardwood and the Dragon's Cream - Index

The Baron Shags a Damsel

The Cream Cheeks on the Hill

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