This is a long entry. I did not want to break it up into two chapters, though.
Zanhass had been awake most of the night, too excited after hearing Pa had arranged with Marshall Vishra for her to marry Kivan. Giving up on sleep, she had risen early and worked on Lady Cadwarra’s mace until Pa came in. He inspected the weapon, more to admire it than to find any flaws in her usually stellar work. “Can you imbue it with the power you imbued Lady Amber’s mace?” He was anxious to complete Marshall Vishra’s commission in full.
Zanhass assured her father she could do the special imbuing, but she could hardly tell Pa what she needed to do with Kivan in order to achieve such results, especially since Pa had forbidden her to let Kivan touch her until the wedding night. “...And he can only do so in order to make a grandson” he had added. “As it should be.”
Zanhass had pretended obedience but she was not going to be telling Kivan ‘no’ when he felt so good pushing it into her. She felt a little guilty to be selfishly wishing that the fishing had been better and that Pa had stayed away a few more days.
As for telling her father all the intimate details of her newfound method of imbuing magic into her maces, she instead made the valid excuse that she was to meet Lady Amber that morning to begin wedding arrangements then meet Lady Vishra to discuss the new armour she wanted made. She left some magic imbuing material beside the mace as if to assure her father she would get to it. The imbuing would need to wait.
Zanhass left the mace on the workbench next to the deep burn mark and hurried to meet Amber and Kivan to pick out an engagement ring. The thought of Kivan inside her, fucking all that power into the mace, made her quite horny for her young man but she would need to be patient for now.
She met Kivan and Amber on the street in front of the shop simply named ‘The Jewel Box’. She knew of its reputation as the ‘Clothspinner of Jewelry’ but had never been inside. It was very exciting to think she would be walking into such an elegant establishment. She had promised to tell Trelly all about it. She was wearing her best dress for the occasion, last year’s Frostfell gift from her mother.
Amber had decided she and Zanhass would shop for rings and wedding dresses that day since Papa had needed her to get Kivan and Zanhass out of the smithy. “Cadwarra has work to do” he had told his daughter in that tone of his that meant that Amber was not to ask any nosy questions. She did not worry about it. Shopping was fun and besides, she would just ask Cadwarra later what was so hush-hush at Mossclean’s Smithy.
Amber was pleased to find The Jewel Box empty of other customers. This would be quick. She hung slightly back from the counter, letting Zanhass have the honour of choosing her own engagement ring.
The Jeweler on duty was a junior employee, minding the counter alone on a slow day. The girl was stiffly polite, somewhat annoyed to be spending her time on two plainly dressed Wood Elves who were hardly going to spend much coin while Lady Amber, who had come in just behind them, was kept waiting. Lady Amber would no doubt be spending a good deal of coin.
The Jeweler inwardly sighed. Every once in a while some naive couple would come by the shop, thinking they could afford the merchandise within. She pulled out a trayful of costume jewelry only slightly above the price range affordable for two young Wood Elves from the hicks. “We’ll measure your ring size after you choose one” she informed the couple brusquely and added pointedly “...once your finances have been approved.”
Zanhass, unaware of the dismissive attitude of the employee, was quite pleased to see so many rings to choose from. They were all quite pretty. Excited to be picking such jewelry, she put her arm affectionately around Kivan’s waist and pulled him close, inviting him by that action to help choose. Her right breast squashed into Kivan’s ribs. It was soft and warm.
The feel of Zanhass’s breast pressed so casually into his side hardened Kivan’s penis like the young male he was. It bulged there in plain view of the Jeweler. Zanhass saw her looking. She was proud that the Jeweler could see what she had just done to Kivan. She casually placed her hand on it, right in front of the Jeweler. She wanted to show off Kivan’s erection.
Zanhass only meant to touch his prick lightly, but the feel of its hardness aroused her. Her fingers gripped it through his leggings. She ran her hand along its length.
The Jeweler stared. She could see the shape and size of it. The naughty Wood Elf girl was so blatantly running her fingers along the curve of the penis, unashamed to be so intimately caressing her young lad in public. He was relatively large, that young lad, especially given that he was a Feir’Dal.
Zanhass knew she was wicked to be showing off her boyfriend’s prick but she was very proud of it and what it did when she stroked it. She wanted the everyone to know how nice it was. The Salesclerk kept looking.
Amber was less pleased by everyone looking at Kivan’s rigid pecker instead of getting some shopping done. Zanhass and the Jeweler were wasting time and there was a wedding dress appointment at Clothspinner’s in fifty-five minutes. This Ring-and-Necklace Salesgirl was taking up a good portion of the day flogging brass and zircon trinkets while watching teens feel each other up.
This would not do. Papa had told Amber to make sure Zanhass’s engagement ring would be expensive enough to make Kivan look good in front of his future father-in-law. Amber stepped forward, impatient with the Jeweler’s insulting and unprofessional manner. “Miss Jeweler?”
The young Jeweler left off ogling Kivan’s beautifully curving bulge. She responded with the deference due to a Vishra Daughter, leaving the randy Wood Elves to stand there waiting. “Yes, Lady Amber?”
“Squire Kivan would like to see only your best rings for his fiancée. He and Acolyte Zanhass are having a Vishra wedding.”
It finally dawned on the Jewel Box staffmember that Lady Amber was not waiting her turn, she was with the two Wood Elves. She hastily sputtered out an abject apology. “Our mistake, Lady Amber. I have inadvertently pulled out the wrong rings.”
As quick as that, the chastised employee swept the tray of cheap rings away and deftly slipped it back into its drawer before unlocking a much fancier cabinet and pulling out a much fancier display. “I believe these will be more to your liking” she informed the betrothed couple. She was very nervous but it was not clear if her agitation was due to her faux pas in insulting Lady Amber or her sexual arousal at the sight of Kivan’s bulge, still plainly showing in Zanhass’s grip.
The new tray of rings sparkled. Zanhass and Kivan had never before been this close to actual diamonds. Even their inexperienced eyes saw the difference in gem quality compared to the first tray.
“We’ve no need to measure your finger size, Miss Zanhass; these rings have a small spell magically imbedded in them to allow any one of them to adjust to fit your finger.”
While Zanhass pondered which ring was her favourite, the Jeweler was already upselling, addressing the erect Kivan. “We are pleased to offer an economically priced Fidelity Package with your purchase; it is a small spell that we can incorporate into the ring at an affordable price.” She stole a quick glance down at Kivan’s hard cock, watching Zanhass rubbing his big knob through his leggings. “The imbuement will guarantee your bride’s eyes will never wander” the Jeweler further explained to Kivan. “She will desire only you.”
“That will not be necessary” Amber cut in, knowing how ineffectual those Fidelity enchantments were in general and how needless such a charm was in this particular case. “Whatever the price of the Fidelity Option, we’ll spend it on a bigger rock.”
The Salesperson nodded. She was being much friendlier now. She was looking forward to a nice big fat commission.
Her eyes still flitted frequently to that cock in Kivan’s leggings, though. As Zanhass continued her unabashed fondling, that prick remained long and stiff, perfect for insertion into a vagina. No doubt Miss Zanhass was already making such use of it.
The Jewelry Box Employee had only ever once had a Wood Elf in her bed. He had been very good. She wanted another. She imagined Kivan panting on top of her, pushing back and forth inside her instead of his bride.
She was quite jealous of Zanhass.
******************************************
During Cadwarra’s short walk from the Old Druidess’s cottage over to the smithy, the more acute affects of the perfume had worn off. Her head still buzzed slightly but at least Cadwarra was able to think more clearly. Just a bit more. She was still maybe a bit dopey.
She was also still very horny. She thought of Diamander’s cock and how it flopped around in his hand as he washed it, all big and glistening. When soapy water dripped from its tip it looked like he was ejaculating foamy suds. She hoped he was alright and that Llisanya was looking after his needs up in Everfrost.
Once again the sign on the Mossclean Smithy advised that the business was closed for a private fitting. The four peeping boys had been grounded for missing school and so were unaware Lady Cadwarra was back to perhaps show them her naked body again with her big nipples.
Cadwarra knocked and entered.
Master Blacksmith Denham Mossclean had made sure all curtains were drawn so closely that there was no danger of anyone seeing the Viscountess as they worked. He bowed correctly to her. He was being respectful, even if she was a shameless harlot who willingly posed nude for filthy minded watercolour artists.
Clearly nervous in Cadwarra’s presence, Mossclean was trying not to notice how pretty she was. He caught a hint of perfume. It was very nice. Intoxicating. He found Lady Cadwarra provocative. He was worried that he was finding Lady Cadwarra provocative. He did not understand why he would find her provocative. He could not think straight. He caught another whiff of her perfume. His thoughts were further muddled.
Cadwarra was as nervous as Mossclean, wondering why the Old Druidess thought there would be difficulties making love to Mossclean. He seemed quite like any other man. He was rather handsome, in good shape and not so very old. He did not appear to be a man who had any strange tastes or sexual perversions. He seemed a bit reserved, was all.
At Mossclean’s invitation she removed her cloak and handed it to him to hang up. Mossclean took the coat but was disconcerted to see Cadwarra was already in her ceremonial armour. It covered nearly nothing! Cadwarra stood there as if proud to be showing off her trim body.
Mossclean tried to make a professional inspection of Cadwarra’s armour, what there was of it. Mostly he succeeded. Zanhass had done well as far as craftsmanship went. He saw no imperfection in the work, though he was disappointed that Zanhass had deliberately left much too little to the imagination. Soft female flesh was visible everywhere the armour did not cover. Those breasts that Marshall Vishra had asserted were so pleasant to the touch bubbled flagrantly out of Cadwarra’s chainmail bra, threatening to burst out at any moment and bounce there a few times while Mossclean averted his eyes too late.
While Lady Cadwarra’s breasts did not burst out as threatened, those mounds still sat there halfway out of her chainmail bra. Mossclean could see they were ones of the size that tempted weak men to reach and grab them They were probably very soft, he postulated. He saw why horny men found her attractive; she had been semi-naked in his smithy for thirty seconds and already he felt the urge to reach for those fleshbags of temptation and squeeze them the same way he suspected her many worldly lovers had squeezed them already.
He recalled Marshall Vishra had given him permission to so. Permission to reach out and hold each one. He maintained proper decorum, however, and kept his hands to himself...as a decent man should.
Notwithstanding his self-control, Cadwarra’s body made him most uncomfortable by the way it jumbled his brain. He would have thought he would be pleased to see that at least those thigh-high leather boots covered almost all of Cadwarra’s lower limbs with only the upper half of her thighs showing. Unfortunately, that mere glimpse of her uppermost portions of thigh had the opposite effect, he wanted to touch them, run his hands over what little bare leg Cadwarra had not covered with those suggestively high boots. As she shifted her weight from one foot to the other the toned muscles of her bare adductor regions flexed in a way that held his gaze a moment too long.
Mossclean lowered his eyes from that small bit of exquisitely bare thigh exposed above the boot tops. He should not have looked at them. Nor was he brave enough to look into her eyes. He looked instead at that part of the legs decently covered by the boots. He hoped that by concentrating on Lady Cadwarra’s boots he would be able to disregard the feelings that that bare leg was evoking in him. He found, however, that the leather covering most of Cadwarra’s legs affected him just as profoundly as her exposed flesh.
Squeaky, shiny leather reached down from crotch level all the way to the floor. Shapely legs that initially seemed to be so modestly covered were perversely revealed by the tightness of the supple black leather. Buckled snugly by clasps situated at regular intervals from the ankles to above the knee, the skin tight leather hid neither the sweep of Cadwarra’s lower calves nor the shapely turn of her slender ankles. Below those ankles, stiletto heels were so long they could stab a goblin to death with one kick. Such potential lethality just added to the attraction Mossclean was feeling for this little Paladin and those high-thighed, spiky-heeled boots.
Mossclean resented how evil Cadwarra was to be wearing so much black leather. Her wickedness affected him. He had a sudden desire to feel those high-top boots wrapped around his waist, pulling him inside her...
Mossclean shook his head to clear his confused thoughts. He must not be so tempted. A tramp like her; she was not worthy. By the Marshall’s own admission, this ‘Lady’ had fornicated with so many men. So many. Why was he feeling this way over Vishra’s Slut?
He knew why. It was that demoness, Tunare. Tunare was making him look at a wanton female and think those puerile thoughts with which she was filling his head. He willed himself to ignore Tunare; to not look further at Cadwarra’s lower limbs as she stood there with her dagger-like high heels slightly apart, confident that Master Mossclean liked what he saw.
Mossclean desperately raised his eyes up off those womanly legs. Unfortunately, his gaze fell on Cadwarra’s chest. Her bra pushed her boobs together, pulled tight by a diabolical strap-and-fastening that seemed so precisely placed. Not too high, not too low, the strap was the perfect length to keep Viscountess Cadwarra’s breasts at the perfect distance from each other. The gap between them was the optimum size to allow a lecherous man to place his cock between them and thrust madly back and forth, his knob popping out of the two orbs of hot flesh at the top of each thrust. Mossclean bet that the evil Tunare had planned that Cadwarra’s boobs would sit that way.
Mossclean took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself. He put the repulsive thought of some immoral pervert titfucking Lady Cadwarra out of his head. He made a mental note to scold Zanhass for making the decorative armour too appealing to those males that spilled their volumes of semen all over the chests of immodest females such as Lady Cadwarra.
Of course, it was his fault that Lady Cadwarra’s decorative armour was so scandalous, not his daughter’s. He should have mentored her better. She did not understand how men thought; that they only wanted one thing. She had not understood how hard those penises got when men saw all that cleavage and skin.
Mossclean would supervise his daughter closer in future. Too many times he had left her to do the Ceremonial Armour work without ensuring she did not go too far; did not wander into the extravagant display of female temptation that Mossclean was now beholding. He had had no idea how much female flesh Zanhass was leaving uncovered while she did all these Ladies’ armour sets. In matters of this ceremonial armour, she needed to tone it down a little...no...tone it down a lot! He would be giving her clear instructions when she got back from shopping for wedding rings and dresses.
“Are you alright?” Cadwarra asked, breaking into Mossclean’s thoughts. Concerned, she took a step forward and leaned close to Mossclean. Leaning in like that, Cadwarra’s breasts hung down in answer to gravity. They swung gently in her chainmail bra. Her jiggling cleavage was very close to him.
Mossclean was not used to a woman standing so near. He took in a sharp breath in fearful reaction to her proximity. His nostrils filled with the scent of her perfume. It was a very pleasant scent; intoxicating. The fragrance stupefied him, clouding his judgment. He felt a bizarre, feral urge to bury his face deep into Cadwarra’s perfumed chest, kissing her ample bazooms.
That feral urge passed. Mossclean took hold of himself again. He was ashamed of how he was affected by the Marshall’s promiscuous Lady. He felt sick to realize he had been ogling her cleavage.
“Forgive me, Lady Cadwarra” he apologized as he straightened up, away from her scented tits. He lied a little so she would not know he was lusting for her mammalian protuberances. “I was pondering the cut of the proposed breastplate bra Marshall Vishra had requested. You know...how to make it fit your b-...bust.” He felt a fool to have stuttered over the word ‘bust’ when he mentioned Lady Cadwarra’s endowments just then.
“Oh, I agree” Cadwarra replied, smiling brightly and not noticing Mossclean’s nervousness. “We should start on the bra first. Marshall Vishra mentioned he wanted my nipples to show. Did he mention that to you?”
At the mention of nipples, Mossclean was seized by an irrational urge to run. He would be seeing Viscountess Cadwarra’s exposed nipples? He knew he mustn’t. His voice trembled to be discussing such female things. “Y-yes. He did say that...about your n-nipples”
In his nervousness, Mossclean did not know what to do. He picked up a smithy hammer. He always felt better with a smithy hammer in his hand. Embarrassed to realize he had no use for the hammer at the moment, he pretended to be merely putting it properly away, though Mossclean’s tools were always properly put away. Mossclean instead put it in a completely different, totally unsuitable location. It’s misplacement would bother him for the rest of the day.
Cadwarra wondered why Mossclean had moved the hammer. Last time, Zanhass had carefully placed that hammer in that other spot each time she returned it to the tool storage area.
She did not ponder that too long, though. She was happy to get started on the armour right away and was glad Master Mossclean was already thinking ahead on the task. “My nipples are slightly larger in diameter than average” Cadwarra noted, looking down at them still covered by her bra. “I assume we’ll need to keep the cups of the plate bra very much under my boobs so as not to partially cover them.”
Cadwarra was enjoying herself. Not only was she getting mix-and-match accessories for her sexy ceremonial armour but Master Mossclean would soon be working closely...quite closely...with her body. He would soon be seeing her nipples. She had no doubt they would remain erect for him while he measured and fitted. After that, he would certainly take one in his mouth. It would be easy at that point to get him to start the required loving she was directed to initiate.
He would caress her body. He would be on top of her, pounding as fast as a virgin boy at his first unchaperoned picnic. Cadwarra waited for Master Mossclean to make the first move.
Mossclean ignored his growing erection. It was the first one he had gotten since his wedding night. The night his dear daughter had been conceived. The night he had used his wife, Nelda, as if she were chattel to be exploited.
Nelda had pretended to like his carnal demands as he lay on her and thrust in again and again. Her chest flushed red, her moans so loud they awakened the Old Witch next door. Nelda had even faked several orgasms, twisting her brow convincingly, pretending climax after climax, pussy dripping wet as his cock just kept fucking madly.
Never masturbating, Bridegroom Denham’s balls had been chock full for the consummation of his marriage. Remarkably huge quantities of sperm filled Nelda again and again but he did not stop. He had been driven by Tunare. The lust did not abate until morning when Tunare at last released him from the sexual impulses with which she had controlled him.
Having been so tempted by his wife, he understood how Lord Vishra might be likewise tempted by Lady Cadwarra but he did not understand why Vishra showed no shame to admit to the many times he had surrendered to Cadwarra’s corporal offers. He wondered did Cadwarra feel no shame to allow a Human to put his cock in her vagina and enjoy her sexual submission when she should have long ago been wed to an upstanding Wood Elf husband?
Now feeling the rise of that same shameful lust that possessed him in his bridal bed, Mossclean was not sure how to resist the wonton female that stood in near nakedness in front of him. Mossclean could only stand and stare. That exquisite perfume hovered in the air, addling his senses. He found Lady Cadwarra beautiful. He was ashamed to find her so. He stared at her, standing there in those boots. Those boots...those long, tall boots...
Cadwarra stood awkwardly under Master Mossclean’s intense inspection. She realized Master Mossclean was staring at her body. She thought maybe that was good? She tried to think straight despite the lingering effects of the perfume. Was this Master Mossclean’s perversion? Thankfully, he did not want to suck on her toes or be peed on but did he instead wish to simply stand there and stare at her? Would he soon pull his prick out and insist she watch while he whacked his dick and leered at her body, commanding her to look at him pump furiously and express joyful amazement at his high arcing cum shot?
Amber had told her she knew a boy in school that jerked off like that while she watched it squirt high into the air and fall in long sticky ropes all over the floor. Amber wasn’t to do anything; just watch. Did Master Mosscleam want her to do that?
Despite the lingering fogginess in her head, Cadwarra knew this would not do. If Master Mossclean wanted her to stand there and witness his self-pleasuring, she was not following the Old Druidess’s instructions. She recalled the Old Druidess’s words echoing in her ears. “You were going to eat Denham Mossclean’s cum, Honey, then get fucked ‘til your pussy is overflowing with even more of it.”
Cadwarra decided she should at least try to get Master Mossclean to indulge in some normal lovemaking. She unclipped the front of her bra. It fell to the floor. She stood there with breasts bared, watching Mossclean watch her areolas shrink The stems of her nipples began to rise. Invitingly so.
Try as he did, Mossclean could not take his eyes off those big nipples. He found their transformation fascinating to observe. Flat areolas crinkled and nipples thickened. They rose high, ready to be sucked and kissed and pulled.
Mossclean still made no moves toward Cadwarra, however. He was not going to touch a whore no matter how pretty. He gulped nervously. Lady Cadwarra’s perfume was still filling the room. Mossclean could not escape it. It was making him want her. His prick awoke. He was partly erect.
He was disgusted with himself. He was trying to stay soft. He had not been tempted by a woman in years, not since his wife had yielded to him on their wedding night. He had never allowed himself to be so turgid ever again. He willed it that Lady Cadwarra should not so entice him.
“Do you like to see my nipples get hard, Master Mossclean?” Cadwarra’s tone was suggestive. “What else do you want to see?” Cadwarra’s chainmail miniskirt felt to the floor with a thump. She pushed her chainmail panties down to her ankles and stepped out of them. All she now wore were those black thigh-high boots and stiletto heels, skin tight leather hugging shapely gams. The tops of the boots rose almost to the level of her exposed vulva. “Fuck her hard in the pussy” the boots seemed to say.
Mossclean, confronted by a mostly naked female, could not take his eyes away. Lady Cadwarra stood there like the whore she was, obviously knowing he was watching her body react to her own exhibitionism. His prick was now fully hard as he imagined those boots hooked around his waist while he fornicated with Cadwarra shamelessly.
He got ahold of himself. He would not take her body. He congratulated himself for resisting temptation. He wished his cock would soften before Cadwarra saw the state he was in, though. His prick obstinately stayed erect. It lay there inside his leggings, hot across his muscular thigh while he stared at the most private of intimacies between Cadwarra’s own thighs. Her curly pubic hair sparkled, her labia showed. He thought about how warm she must be in there. Tight. Slippery.
His cock twitched.
Cadwarra could see she had finally inspired a full erection. She saw it move. Job done, she thought. She wondered why Mossclean was not stepping forward to put his hands on her and begin feeling her up. Her hardened nipples were clearly giving him unspoken consent to proceed. He need only to reach out and begin caressing her. What was he waiting for?
Cadwarra had a thought. Maybe Master Mossclean liked role-playing. She had heard a lot of men did. She used her imagination to think up some possibly pleasing scenarios.
She could be a History Teacher and he a naughty schoolboy who had not finished his essay on the political ramifications of the Battle of Burning Wood. He needed a hard paddling for his own good.
Or perhaps he was a mighty hunter who found her sleeping exhausted in his bed in his remote forest cabin after escaping from a band of evil brigands. They had ripped her clothes off as she eluded their lecherous clutches, just barely preserving her unsullied virtue from the rude needs of their undeserving loins. The Mighty Hunter would take advantage of her nakedness, destroying her virginity. She would be helpless to resist. He would ravage her all night.
Master Mossclean seemed to want to get to work instead of indulging in role playing, though. “We had best start on our work” he said, resolutely trying to ignore the willingness of the naked female who was suggesting such preposterous stories about immoral school teachers and hermit-like huntsmen.
Seeing his reluctance to take the body she was clearly offering, Cadwarra accepted Mossclean’s suggestion to get to work. “We should start then” she agreed, perplexed as to what she needed to do to get laid.
Turning her thoughts to the task, Cadwarra cupped her breasts and lifted them in her hands. “So...” she began, holding her underboobs “...I think the plate armour cups should cover about what my hands are currently covering. That way you can see all my nipples and a little non-nipple underboob between the bottoms of the areolas and the top edges of the quartercups. What do you think?”
Cadwarra’s suggestion made fashion sense but Mossclean’s thoughts were so scrambled by the casual way Cadwarra was feeling her own boobs that he could only choke out weakly “Y-yes, M’Lady. I think that w-would look quite good.”
Cadwarra again ignored his nervousness. She stood there as if waiting. She was still cupping her boobs. They yielded under her fingers as she held them gently. She squeezed them absent-mindedly as if touching them for the first time. The round jugs of girlmeat yielded under her probing fingers.
Those boobs looked as soft as Mossclean had guessed they were. His gaze was dominated by Cadwarra’s thick hard nipples sitting there just above her hands. Perfume was still inundating every cubic foot of the smithy. It seemed to confuse and befuddle Mossclean. Hadn’t he already noticed how it confused and befuddled him? He was not sure.
He knew he could reach out and touch Cadwarra. He did not even need her consent; he had Lord Vishra’s permission. He could just squeeze those boobs gleefully, confirm they were as soft as they looked.
Mossclean shook his head again. His thoughts cleared. He would not reach to feel if the boobs were as soft as they looked. He was stronger than other men. A self-indulgent libertine might waste hours squeezing and kissing those titties, sucking on Cadwarra’s nipples, burying his nose in the warm, fleshy texture of the big tits. Such a fool would allow Lady Cadwarra to crush her breasts on either side of his face, covering his ears with so much boob he would barely be able to hear Cadwarra plead “please fuck me, you weak, pathetic loser...please fuck me...”
Yet he imagined his own face buried in all that breast. He imagined her hot breath on his ear as she leaned close and whispered “Master Mossclean...please...please fuck me like I want you to!”
Mossclean could resist Tunare’s evil temptation no longer. He felt a desire that overwhelmed his virtuous resolutions. He was a pathetic loser. His hands rose to touch Cadwarra’s breasts, his thumbs touched her stiff nipples. They bent as his thumbs brushed over them several times then popped up again as if asking to be sucked. He surrendered. He cupped Cadwarra’s warm breasts firmly. He squeezed them. His fingers dug deep.
“Yes” said Cadwarra in a breathless murmur. She said nothing further. Little pearls of milk appeared on the tip of each nipple and Mossclean licked them up. Her milk was very sweet.
He stopped sucking when there was no more milk. He let the breast fall from his mouth. His nose brushed Cadwarra’s right breast. That perfume! It filled his mind. He was confused, befuddled. He buried his face in all that flesh on Lady Cadwarra’s chest. He planted two dozen kisses on her bubbles and the cleavage they formed between them. He even kissed the breastbone at the bottom of that cleavage. All the time... he smelled that perfume!
Cadwarra lifted Mossclean’s chin and brought her mouth to his. She bussed him very softly as if she knew he was reluctant to press lips to lips. She kept her mouth on his, though. The kiss became more passionate, lips pressed together harder and tongues darted in and out, licking and tasting each other’s saliva.
When the kiss ended, Cadwarra put her arms around Mossclean and smiled. She crushed her breasts into his muscular chest. She could feel he was trying not to let his erection press into the naked portion of her thigh above her left boot. Guessing his embarrassment, she did not try to hold his cock against her, though she was dying to know how big it was and was it a pretty one? She suddenly thought of Ockham’s too thin shaft and selfishly hoped Master Mossclean could offer her a cock substantially more impressive in diameter.
Mossclean realized his hand was lingering on Cadwarra’s bare thigh, just above her boot. He broke from Cadwarra’s embrace. He did so a little awkwardly, but without rudeness. Cadwarra thought perhaps the perfume was losing its effectiveness.
“I apologize for my inappropriate actions, Lady Cadwarra. We had best stop and finish the armour.”
“We can screw first” she countered, not wanting to lose Master Mossclean’s interest when she was so close to getting him inside her. “You can be fast if you are worried about spending too much time not working on my bra. I won’t mind if you want to make it a quickie. I can masturbate later.” Still trying to guess what Master Mossclean’s ‘freak’ was she added politely “you can watch me if you wish.”
Mossclean was shocked at the suggestion...except for that part of him that really wanted to see Lady Cadwarra do such self-pleasuring in front of him. Conflicted, he just stood there in indecision.
Seeing Mossclean still hesitant, Cadwarra moved a little closer, just a little. She pressed against him. He caught a fresh whiff of the perfume. It fogged his thoughts. Jumbling them. But the perfume was losing its potency. He was confused. He let Cadwarra place his hands back onto her mushies. He fondled them. Why was he playing with them? Why was he liking how they felt? He needed time to think.
Cadwarra knew the effect of the perfume was fading. She had him hard though and that was not fading. She would just need to keep up the affectionate kisses until he gave in.
Mossclean did not react, neither pressing into Cadwarra’s body nor pulling away. Cadwarra decided she needed to be more assertive. She undid his leggings. He did not stop her. She reached in the find his erection.
Her fears that Mossclean had a thin cock proved unfounded. She could barely wrap her fingers around it. Looking down in disbelief at the amount of male stiffness filling her grip, Cadwarra pulled out the thickest cock she had ever held.
Certainly Lord Vishra’s was much longer, so were Diamander’s and Uncle Trainder’s and Lord Forest’s. But this one was incredibly thick. She was always willing to take the full length a man might offer to put inside her, but Cadwaara was not sure if her vadge would be able to spread open wide enough for Master Mossclean’s intimidating girth. That prick was near equal in size to Mossclean’s forearm!
Undaunted, Cadwarra determined to start with a blowjob. That way, she could coat the huge thing with as much spit as she could cover it with. She felt her pussy getting all juicy but every little bit of added saliva would help lubricate that monster. She took Mossclean’s huge knob in her mouth. She stretched her lips and kissed and sucked on the tip, already tasting a drop of precum.
Able to think a little clearer, Mossclean knew he should tell Cadwarra to stop but Cadwarra’s mouth felt so good. Just as he had done on his wedding night on top of Nelda’s virgin body, Mossclean surrendered to Tunare’s evil urging. He knew he was going to fuck Cadwarra right there in the smithy, legs spread, big tits flying around on her chest with each thrust. Before that, however, he would enjoy Cadwarra sucking cock. He put his hand on the back of her head and without a by-your-leave pushed hard.
He crammed his whole shaft deep into Cadwarra’s mouth and down her throat. She did not protest. She made a definite choking-gagging noise but did not push him away. She just kept spitting more saliva on his cock as he fucked her head.
He pulled his thick prick back out of her mouth. He grabbed his huge member and began rubbing it all over Cadwarra’s pretty face. Cadwarra titled her head back and let him do it. His huge sausage rolled and slid all over cheek, chin and forehead, the veins of the shaft throbbing. It smeared her face with her own spit.
Mindful of the Old Druidess’s instructions, Cadwarra did not let Mossclean blow his load on her face, much as that might be fun. She grabbed his wrist. Forcing Mossclean to stop masturbating on her nose she took his dick back into her mouth. Her lips stretched as far as she could to accommodate that unbelievable thing. His knob poked deep as all that penis slipped along her tongue.
Mossclean knew the madness of Tunare had now fully taken hold, just as it had done on his wedding night. He began ramming his pelvis deep, sliding in and out across Lady Cadwarra’s lips. He looked down at her to make sure she was alright.
She was alright. She was sucking on him like the whore she was, loving it. Normally, this would have disgusted him. For the moment, he was aroused to a point of near madness. He rammed harder between Cadwarra’s jaws, then even harder than that.
He looked down at Cadwarra...’Vishra’s Whore’ he corrected himself. She was enjoying each brutal thrust of his cock. Why would a woman enjoy that being done to her, he wondered. She was about to take his ejaculation into her mouth. She was going to eat cum!
Eat cum? Mossclean realized he had not planned to cum in Cadwarra’s mouth. He had not planned anything. He knew then, though, that he would cum in Lady Cadwarra’s mouth. He knew it was what he wanted to do more than anything else. She would not be able to stop him even if she tried to and the way she was gobbling on his knob, he was sure she was not going to try. Shameless sluts were like that; allowing men to do whatever they wanted with them.
He felt his orgasm building. He did not want to cum, though. After he was done, after he had shot spunk down Lady Cadwarra’s throat, he feared Tunare would release him from his lust and the shame would come. He would be disgusted, just as disgusted as after he had fucked Nelda. He had tried to apologize to Nelda but it had only been a few minutes then Tunare’s madness began again and his dick was hard and he fucked Nelda again...and again...while Nelda suffered through it all and bravely conceived their beautiful daughter. He feared he was about to treat Cadwarra as cruelly but he could not stop himself from driving his cock full force into Cadwarra’s tonsils.
Cadwarra knelt under Mossclean, sucking hard while holding the base of his cock in her tiny hand. She pumped it. She needed to make him cum in her mouth. She was afraid he would pull out at the last minute and all that magic laden semen would be wasted in a flood blasted uselessly all over her face or in her hair. She let go of his dick and wrapped her arms around his waist in case she needed to stop him from pulling out before he had fed her the Tunare-blessed jizz.
She need not have been concerned. Mossclean was too excited about face-fucking her to shoot anywhere but down her gorge. Sperm began to seethe.
Mossclean had not even had an erection since his honeymoon, never experienced even a wet dream. His huge balls were packed full of cum, laced with Tunare’s divinity. It all came flooding out in vast quantities of holy semen, vomiting out into Cadwarra’s hungry mouth.
Mossclean had heard of these loose women who swallowed cum. The idea, the concept, normally sickened him. Fallen women who did not respect themselves sucked cock and ate cum.
Mossclean was always revulsed by the mere thought of meeting such a woman some day yet here she was, gobbling on his dick while he exulted to think he was filling her mouth with the slimy substance; pouring his seed down a Viscountess’s throat.
“Taste it” he ordered Cadwarra, too aroused to say please. He was still repeatedly pushing his hand on the back of her head, forcing her mouth to take his full length. He loved how she was gurgling on his shaft! She was trying to prevent him from pushing too deep but she was not stopping him from pushing.
Mossclean’s cock kept pumping cum. His orgasm did not diminish. He came in continuous flows of white hot semen, sticky and viscous.
Cadwarra looked up at Mossclean, mouth crammed with cock. He looked into her ‘fuck me’ eyes. He expected to see anger or hatred for how he was treating her. Instead, she bore a look of enthusiasm. She performed her blow job as if it was her solemn duty to catch as much sperm as her sucking lips could catch.
The sperm was as yummy as Cadwarra had ever tasted and so full of magic that Cadwarra could feel the holy tingle as she sent it down her esophagus in impressively huge gulps. Still more erupted from the knob. She ate that, too. She wondered how much there was going to be. She kept swallowing.
At last the pumping of cum ceased and Mossclean went soft, horrified at what Tunare had just made him do. He felt shame. Even if Cadwarra was a slut, to have treated a young woman so disrespectfully!
Cadwarra stayed kneeling at Mossclean’s feet, seemingly not minding her brutal treatment. Her jaws were sore but she was rather pleased with herself. She thought of the first time Fayt had begged her for a blow job so he could boast to his friends about it. It had seemed to be a lot at the time but nothing like Master Mossclean had just fed her. She was using her tongue to clean up what remained in her mouth. It was coating her teeth and in her cheeks. Some women hated the taste of the stuff and spit it out. Cadwarra never understood them doing that. It was very tasty. Master Mossclean’s was especially so.
Mossclean stood over Cadwarra, watching her have her meal. Cadwarra was looking up at Mossclean as she finished eating, wondering how soon she could get him horny again and on top of her. She wanted that cock of his inside her.
By the time she was done swallowing Tunare taken hold of Mossclean again. His lust returned, he looked at Cadwarra waiting there with her bare breasts perched beautifully on her chest, nipples thick and stiff. His guilty thoughts disappeared as his cock hardened.
He did not ask if he could rut her. If she was going to behave like a harlot, he would just pound her hard like a harlot. He lead her over to the workbench and pushed her down on her back.
He got on top. She did not refuse him. She caressed his biceps, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles. She wrapped her boots around his waist, new leather squeaking as she crossed her ankles. Her thighs parted.
Mossclean remembered a boy that lived in the village long ago when he was young and his Grandfather was the Master Blacksmith. The boy had boasted to Denham about having gotten a girlfriend. He had spoken of her with the lustful desire a teen boy would have for any girl willing to strip naked for him in the woods and lie on her back.
Mossclean was disgusted by what that boy had done to that girl. She had let him do it! The teen boy had treated his girlfriend as if she was an object of flesh and tits and ass. His hands had caressed soft flanks and kissed heaving breasts. The boy had inserted his penis. Sperm shot into his girl and he collapsed on top, so full of himself that he had finally screwed a real female, warm and soft and willing, instead of madly fucking his hand. The boy had said he pulled his soft wiener back out and was finished.
Mossclean told himself he was not like that boy. His cock slid into the warmth of Cadwarra just the same. It felt so good. He pushed his thick cock in again and again, treating Cadwarra like an object of flesh and tits and ass. He was just like that boy. He tried to tell himself he was not.
Cadwarra panted excitedly as she felt Mossclean’s cock driving in and out. She had been trepidatious as to whether she could accommodate his size but when three or four inches had slid in, she knew she could take him. There was even a pleasure in the sensation of being so spread open. She had never been so filled up before, never had such a thick cock push her vagina walls so far apart. She had never been so thrilled to have such a monster inside her, ramming, making her so wet.
Mossclean was going as fast as he could, penetrating surprisingly deep. She had been prepared for his unusual thickness but she had not realized his length. It turned out Mossclean was as long as Diamander or his Father. His cock had only looked shorter in proportion to his thickness. It was in quite far. The Old Druidess was right: the special cocks of those chosen to be blessed by Tunare were typically of an impressive size.
“Fuck real hard” she asked of Mossclean. She needed to feel every inch of that penis driving into her.
Mossclean’s hips obediently increased in speed. She lay there, enjoying the enormity of Mossclean’s prick. It felt very nice. She knew her orgasm was going to be monumental. She could feel it already beginning.
Cadwarra raised her arms above her head, crossing her wrists, abandoning herself to hedonistic indulgence. The position of her arms stretched her breasts into teardrop shapes while she lay there.“Take me” she implored him. “Force me! Show me how a real man uses his woman!” She pushed her left breast up so that its nipple sat inches from Mossclean’s mouth.
Even Mossclean was not so naïve as to not know what Cadwarra wanted. He had heard that some women took pleasure in a man having his way with her without permission. Normally sickened by such an act, the idea of him now performing that very crime on Cadwarra suddenly seemed so exciting.
He reached up and pinned Cadwarra’s wrists as she so obviously wanted. He fastened his eager mouth on the nipple she was offering. A squirt of milk flowed into his mouth. His thrusts became selfish, urgently moving as fast as he could pound Lady Cadwarra.
He held her down, under him. He kept going in and out a long time, enjoying the brutal sensations incorporated in the rough pleasure. Cadwarra was giggling.
Mossclean let go of her nipple, suddenly feeling the need to speak crudely to her. “You like men raping you.” It was not a question.
“I like you raping me” Cadwarra responded and used her leather booted calves to pull him in hard each time he drove that incredible cock into her.
A more worldly friend had explained the rape fantasy to Mossclean once. “Many woman have such a fantasy but it is only that; a fantasy. Very few would actually want that to really happen.” The concept puzzled Mossclean. Why would a woman want that? But he kept ramming Cadwarra. Never slowing.
Cadwarra lay there allowing herself to enjoy the overt male aggression. Experimentally, she tried to free her wrists from Master Mossclean’s grip. She proved unable to. Mossclean was having his way with her. That turned her on.
She thought of the morning her trainer, Trandall, had dropped by trying to organize that raid on Blackburrow. He had instead given her that lesson on how to deal with a rapist on top of you.
“Squirm around” he had told her as he showed her how one might get pinned. His voiced trembled oddly as he said it. “Try to escape.”
As she had done for Trandall, Cadwarra twisted and bucked for Master Mossclean. She could not escape. Mossclean held her firmly.
“This is the danger of allowing a male to gain advantage over you.” Trandall had breathed hard as he fought to hold her still “You see how helpless and exposed you are if he decides to rape you? See how you will not be able to get out from under him as he violates you like this?”
As Trandall had demonstrated, Mossclean was now doing just that. He pushed his manhood into her deeper and harder. Cadwarra recalled Trandall adding further lurid details. “The rapist will be able to take his pleasure from your helpless body as you lay there struggling.”
Cadwarra looked down to watch herself be penetrated. Mossclean’s erection shone with the wet of her quim. It pushed in and out. She gave up struggling. She let her head fall back to lie on the workbench. She closed her eyes. That huge pecker kept driving deep, turgid and hot. She was approaching a climax.
She remembered the most important piece of advice Trandall had given her as his orgasm approached. “You just let him finish, Miss Cadwarra. There is nothing you can do...nothing you can do...nothing you can do...”
It was good advice. She lay back, looking up at Master Mossclean. “Just...keep...raping...me” she asked.
She could tell Master Mossclean was loving the fuck. That was good. She needed him to cum in her. Her womanly parts would be full of Tunare’s blessed sperm while her stomach was already busily digesting the half-a-pint of Mossclean cum she had swallowed a half hour earlier. Vast quantities of the eaten cum’s divine magic was already being absorbed into Cadwarra’s arteries, innate power coursing though her veins and seeping into heart and muscle and soul. Cadwarra was pleased at how things were going along so well. The unbelievable pleasure of the fuck itself was just a bonus!
Mossclean could see Cadwarra was experiencing an orgasm. He started to cum, too. Again, Cadwarra hooked her booted legs around his waist to ensure he did not get any thoughts about pulling out and cumming on her tits or such other possible disaster. Some other day she would love to watch Mossclean jism launching out of his prick to fall in large pools between her breasts. Today, Mossclean dutifully stayed inside as his orgasm approached.
When he came, the amount of cum he shot was of a quantity equal to his first load. Churning jizz spewed from his writhing dick, flooding Cadwarra’s soaked pussy. She lay under Mossclean a while, pinned down by his weight, enjoying a euphoria she could only attribute to Tunare rewarding her for her good work.
Semen would soon be swimming into her uterus. With no egg to fertilize, her body would absorb the sperm, again entering her blood stream and becoming divine nourishment to empower her heal spells and eventually imbue her babies...her Vishra sons.
Now finished, Mossclean lay on top of Cadwarra a long while, panting from his exertion.
Cadwarra did not remember at what time had Mossclean let go of her wrists. She lowered her arms to affectionately massage her newest lover’s shoulders. When she spoke, her contented voice was almost a coo. “That was wonderful.” She wanted to just lie there and hold Master Mossclean for a long while.
Her intention to lie there caressing Mossclean was interrupted by a faint smell of smoke. “Something is burning” she said in alarm from underneath the Blacksmith. She lifted her head to see. She spotted the source right away.
It was the un-imbued mace Zanhass had left on the workbench. It glowed red hot beside them. The new burn mark it had made was as deep as the first one. The mace glowed magically.
Mossclean got off Cadwarra to find some tongs so that he could lift it off the charred benchtop. His semi-stiffy fell out of Cadwarra and slapped against his thigh. “It’s the mace the Marshall has commissioned for you” he explained as he took the tongs from their place on the tool rack. “My daughter just needs to imbue it. She has some sort of special method which she has willfully refused to explain as yet.”
“It seems to be imbued now” Cadwarra observed. “But look what it’s done to your table!”
Somehow sensing it was alright to do so, Cadwarra touched her fingertips lightly on the mace handle before Mossclean could pick it up with the tongs. Despite the heat that must have been induced, it was quite cool now. She grabbed it by the handle. It fit her perfectly. Zaps of lightning ran up and down the shaft as Cadwarra held it. Sparks shot from the mace head, launching from the weapon and flying out six or seven feet before dying out and falling to the floor. It felt like the mace belonged to her.
Master Mossclean returned the tongs to their proper place. If he cared if his smithy was burning down, one mace at a time, Tunare was keeping him from any such worries. From behind, he put his arms around Cadwarra’s naked waist. He lifted his hands to cup both breasts. “Leave the mace” he said, kissing her cheek “I want you some more.”
His lips fastened onto her neck, just where her throat met her shoulder. She tilted her head. He bit her very lightly. He sucked hard. He gave her a huge hickey. She thrilled to be thus marked by a man.
“Are you ready to go again so soon” Cadwarra asked, putting down the mace as Tunare compelled her to also forget anything but the huge cock currently pressed against her ass. Those big blacksmith hands fondling her boobs felt so good.
They resumed loving. Tunare kept Master Mossclean horny all day. He fucked and fucked. He usually kissed Cadwarra’s lips during the act but sometimes he kept his mouth on Cadwarra’s left breast.
Master Mossclean liked screwing Cadwarra missionary. She did not object. As long as she lay on her back, not too much of his precious semen dripped out of her.
It was well into the late afternoon when Tunare at last released Mossclean from her evil clutches. Free from her compulsion, Mossclean worked with Cadwarra long into the evening to complete the armour accessories. When they were done, Cadwarra stood wearing the quartercup plate bra and the full length dress of chainmail with a slit in the side reaching up to well above her hip.
She looked stupendous. The bra was of such little material it hardly existed, merely holding Cadwarra’s breasts up high, all of her areolas and half of her underboobs were exposed.
The skirt was not very heavy. As Cadwarra walked, the slit opened so enticingly. “How do you like it” she asked Mossclean as she twirled, already seeing that Tunare had reawakened his manly needs as he beheld the finished product...or the body that was wearing it.
Mossclean answered obliquely. “Did the Marshall mention you were allowed to spend the night?”
Cadwarra beamed a beautiful smile. She stepped toward Mossclean, In sympathy with his hardening cock, her exposed nipples were re-awakening. They brushed his chest. “Lord Vishra did promise I could stay til morning...”
****************************************
Outside the Jewel Box, Zanhass proudly let the diamond of her engagement ring sparkle in the fall sunshine. They were standing halfway between the Jewel Box and Clothspinner’s. There was a few more minutes until their dress appointment so Amber waited, letting Zanhass have her fun. It was certainly a lovely ring. Mama would screech when she saw what Amber had spent. That was the best part!
Kivan, of course, could not see the dress before the wedding. Nor could he return to the smithy to find out whatever Cadwarra was up to in there. Amber sent Kivan back to Lady Cadwarra’s apartment before she and Zanhass went to their dress appointment. “Why don’t you head home” she suggested to Kivan. “Take the afternoon off. I’ll bring Zanhass over to share your bed tonight.”
Twenty minutes later, she and Zanhass sat in one of the private consulting rooms with Apprentice Master Tailor Richerd Clothspinner-Willingdon, Jr. All three were looking forward to the fun of designing a wedding gown.
Richerd found the little Wood Elf bride to have such an adorable figure that he reckoned the only problem he would have designing a perfect dress for her would be hiding the boner she was sure to be giving him.
Of course, Amber had insisted on being at the wedding dress fitting. She needed to chaperone Master Richerd and make sure he behaved. She also planned to impress Mama by negotiating a significant discount on the price of the dress. This discount would be in exchange for not making a big fuss about Leather Apprentice Ockham being allowed to find Amber’s naked pictures. She would pretend to be deeply offended.
Mama, naturally, would need not know too many details with respect to her daughter posing nude for naughty sketches. She just needed to be impressed by the significant savings Amber had finagled. It would also calm her down over the price of the engagement ring, which had been purchased according to Papa’s budgetary instructions, not hers.
Such haggling over the cost of the wedding dress could not happen immediately, though, since a servant arrived promptly with High Tea. “Try the chocolate biscotti” Amber told Zanhass, pointedly dipping the cookie in her tea in case Zanhass did not know the process.
They got down to work as they nibbled. As her tailor, Master Richerd was allowed to ask quite personal questions of Zanhass. “Is the colour to be white, Acolyte Mossclean?” This was a most important question. The dress’s colour was fundamental to all subsequent design decisions.
Zanhass looked embarrassed to be confessing she was not a virgin. In the awkward silence, Amber interjected. “White is most appropriate, Richerd. This is Miss Zanhass’s first and only marriage and she has only had the one penis; a lovely big hard one.” Richerd surmised by her tone that Amber had seen the Bridegroom’s ‘lovely big hard one’.
Richerd was not too jealous about that but was surprised such a pretty bride like Miss Zanhass would only have had one lover. Admittedly, she was quite young. He showed no judgment. “White it certainly shall be, then” he said as he eyed Zanhass’s body, again. He took up his sketchpad. “Let me make a few preliminary sketches to start our design discussions.”
While Richerd worked on the design drawings. Zanhass tried the cucumber sandwiches, then the caviar on toast. She was making the most of the delicacies since Amber had warned her they were going to skip lunch. “Eat as much as you want” Amber had told her “Mama is paying them a small fortune for this dress so they won’t mind feeding us.”
With the first batch of design ideas drawn out, Richerd dug into some of the food as well. Amber and Zanhass looked over the sketches.
Zanhass loved all the ideas. Amber was less enthusiastic. “The intention is that Miss Zanhass is to conceive her firstborn on her wedding night, Richerd. I am afraid these designs are too conservative to inspire our Bridegroom to perform his paternity duties in the bridal bed.”
Amber paused to take a gulp of tea, then continued as she pointed at Zanhass’s chest. “We need to enhance the cleavage, Richerd. Zanhass has such beautiful breasts.”
“Oh, I did fail to do that, yes, Lady Amber.” Richard took back his pad from Amber and prepared to resume sketching. He always designed a couple plain looking wedding dresses to start. That way the ladies could boast that they had designed the dress, not some foolish man. “Miss Mossclean, do you mind unbuttoning your dress so I can see how your breasts sit and how your nipples look?”
Zanhass was a bit shocked at such an idea. Amber, not at all. It was not an unusual request for a tailor or dressmaker to make. If Richerd was to make the kind of dress Amber was suggesting, he needed to understand the body he was clothing. A sculptor examined his marble before he picked up his chisel.
To set Zanhass at ease, Amber explained. “Clothspinner & Company will be surrendering the sketches to you.” She casually poured more tea for everyone. “Give them to Kivan. He’ll like them.”
With that assurance, Zanhass willingly pulled her dress down to her waist. She rather liked Master Richerd seeing her topless, now that she was more relaxed. She was showing her titties to a man. That was exciting. The familiar tingly buzzing started, filling the air all around. Her puffy nipples were already becoming erect as they sat there exposed for Master Richerd’s professional appraisal.
Richerd liked watching those inverted nipples pop out and rise. Amber felt he was too interested in the view. She glanced down to his pelvis to check on his condition. His awakened penis was clearly visible in his leggings. “If you are getting aroused, Richerd, I will need to look after you. It is my task to make sure Miss Zanhass will still qualify to be wearing a white dress on the Big Day.”
Richerd idly wondered what colour dress Amber would be getting for her wedding. Red, he guessed as he resumed the performance of his professional duties, boner undiminished. “Do we need to accommodate any baby bump that may arise before the wedding, Miss Zanhass?”
He half expected that Miss Mossclean would admit that her boyfriend had already knocked her up, hence the need for the wedding at such a young age. Half his wedding dresses were for girls that had foolishly consented to making a baby in the heat of pre-marital passion. Foolishly seduced by the passion of the moment those teen boys had pumped sperm into their young girls, now made fertile by their mutual agreement to conceive a child.
A little embarrassed, Zanhass shook her head to indicate she was not in the family way. Amber was more worldly concerning any discussions about early births to chaste brides. “Don’t be silly, Richerd. Miss Zanhass’s children will all be begotten in wedlock. What kind of girl do you think she is?”
Richerd did not answer. He showed the girls the next reiteration in dress design. In the image, Zanhass’s bodice clung to the curves of her breasts, framing them beautifully. Richerd always got a cheap thrill making wedding dresses designed to assist shy brides to show their tits off when wearing it. Zanhass’s clinging bodice would certainly be showing off the exquisite shape of her breasts. “You cannot wear a bra, of course” he cautioned the women “it will ruin the lines of the dress.”
Amber was glad to see the much improved design. It was a good thing she was there. Men just could not design wedding dresses.
Zanhass also liked the design but had concerns with how it revealed the shape of her boobies. She voiced her reservations.
“You need to let Kivan see how beautiful his bride is” Amber protested to Zanhass. She grabbed another cuke sandwich and added “you should have seen the dress Master Richerd did for my older sister’s wedding. She has big tits. With the dress she was wearing, I bet half the men at the ceremony were wishing they could jump her bones instead of the Groom.”
Zanhass seemed unconvinced. She was worried about Pa. Self-consciously, she crossed her arms to cover her naked breasts while she thought. Despite her reservations, Zanhass did like the dress. Reluctantly, she approved the design. She hoped Pa would not be too unhappy but in the end it was her dress and she wanted to look beautiful for Kivan.
“If I may caution” Richerd advised Zanhass, seeing her boobs bubble up above her crossed arms “I suspect your breasts are still growing. We may need to build in a little extra fabric to increase the bust of the dress at the last minute should you have a sudden teenage growth spurt.”
“Yeah” Amber agreed with Richerd. She reached out teasingly to poke the top of Zanhass’s right breast as it sat atop her modestly crossed arms. “Those things aren’t done growing, Zanhass. Lucky Kivan.”
“We’ll incorporate extra fabric for possible alterations” Richerd decided. “No extra charge.”
A mob of apprentices back on the shop floor were quickly put to work cutting the various pieces of cloth. All the parts for the bodice, sleeve, dickey and facings arrived in incredibly short order, all ready for assembly and sewing. A wizard had been kept available to ensure the wedding dress was ready that day. The mage muttered his incantations and waved his hands about while Master Richerd pulled the elements together. The dress practically made itself, cloth floating about in the air as invisible spells stitched the seams together. It took nearly no time.
Dress complete, the Wizard made a small bow to Zanhass and wished her well in her marriage. He then departed to perform the same services in another fitting room where Master Daniel and his client were waiting.
Zanhass tried on her wedding dress. Her smile lit the room. The dress was completely white, as agreed upon. The skirts were long and flowed as Zanhass twirled and Amber giggled, a little envious of Zanhass and her Special Day.
The way the fabric fell around Zanhass’s hips accented her young figure. The cut of waist accentuated her slim torso while the bodice emphasized the shapes of her still-growing twins. Though her stomach was flat, the material seemed to be promising that it could stretch for any child that still may occur before the marriage.
“It’s absolutely beautiful” Amber enthused.
Richard, sexually aroused by Zanhass’s adolescent body, had unilaterally decided some of the material ought to be see-thru. It was a bit selfish of him; he just wanted to see her tits a bit longer.
Zanhass was quite aware of what the dress revealed. The bodice’s material was so diaphanous that the wedding guests would not only be able to see the shape of Zanhass’s breasts and the diameter and colour of her puffies they would also see she had innies. She was self-conscious of her inverted nipples. She was not pleased that all the guests would see them.
Zanhass comforted herself with the knowledge that her nipples would no doubt be hard and no one would see their natural state. Apart from that concern, she was proud of her breasts. She felt the tingling again, as if Tunare was close at hand and congratulating her on all the men that would see her revealed chest.
In the end, her only objection would be that it was all going to be hard to undo for Kivan on the wedding night. “Don’t worry” Amber assured her “when Kivan sees you in that dress, he will not wait for you to remove it no matter how quick you promise to be. He will have all those skirts pushed up to your armpits and be going at it between your legs before us guests back in the hall have started making the usual jokes about what you two are up to in the bridal suite.”
Zanhass seemed fine with that but suggested one addition be made to the dress for her father’s sake. “I am pretty sure Pa will have a fit to see what I am showing” she explained. She glanced ruefully down at her clearly showing breasts. “If I can trouble Clothspinner & Company to make a modest jacket I can wear over the bust, Pa won’t see what I am showing. He’ll go to bed early and I’ll remove the jacket then.”
Master Richerd nodded. He had already been scribbling on his design pad. Anticipating the needs of his client, he had nearly finished sketching something. “Clothspinner and Company have addressed this very same concern numerous times, Miss Zanhass.” He passed the new sketch to her. “You just need a cropped jacket to go along with your dress. We’ll get this made this afternoon if you like the style.”
Master Richerd’s design was brilliant. The jacket did not look like an afterthought. It added a definite elegance but did not take away from the loveliness of the dress underneath.
The jacket was made of silver brocade. There was no added charge for the brocade. Master Daniel had been annoyed to have that big roll of it falling on him while the Receptionist was giving him a blow job in the storage room the other day. Everyone had been instructed to use it up as soon as possible.
The Wizard was called back and had the jacket assembled in good time. Zanhass slipped it on. It covered her shoulders and her nipples but it had no buttons so cleavage remained visible. The swell of breast was there to see but only very subtly. The length of the jacket was so short a small hint of underboob could still be observed.
Studying the jacket in the mirror, Zanhass felt much better about the dress and what it showed. “I think it’s brilliant” Amber volunteered. “The silver brocade accents the white dress amazingly.”
Master Richerd agreed. “It’s the perfect ensemble if you want your Father to see you chastely married and your Young Man to enthusiastically make babies with you later on in the night, Mrs. Oakwood.”
“Making babies on the wedding night seems to be a Mosscleam tradition” Zanhass conceded. Though the wedding was two months away, she was very pleased to be incorrectly addressed by the Oakwood name. She put her hand on her tummy. Like any bride, she suddenly wanted a baby bump.
Master Richard read Zanhass’s mind. How he envied the Groom. It would be such an ego stroke to knock that little cutie up.
Amber saw the look Master Richerd was giving his client. He was such a scamp. She suspected her older sister had fucked him the day he had made her wedding dress.
What her sister did was none of her business, naturally, but in this case Amber had her instructions from Papa, puzzling though the instructions were. Zanhass Mossclean was not to be touched by any man but Squire Kivan. Amber knew that that certainly included perverted Master Tailors who habitually tried to dally with customers well above their station in life. She would need to take care of things.
Ambere reached over and right in front of Zanhass casually began to unlace Richerd’s leggings. She did not think it would do any harm to let Zanhass see how hard that wedding dress had made her tailor. It was a lovely cock, after all.
Richerd was fully erect as Amber pulled his prick out. She kissed the tip affectionately. It slipped into her mouth and she began to suck. Her head bobbed up and down.
Master Richerd looked at Zanhass while Amber blew him. Zanhass seemed to like watching. He liked her watching.
Amber briefly pulled Master Richerd’s cock out of her mouth. It shone with her spit. She kissed the tip again. It slipped back into her mouth and she began to suck indefatigably. She devoured that cock, pushing it deep. Master Richerd began thrusting his hips hard into Amber’s face.
Zanhass studied Amber’s technique. She had a practical reason for doing so. Kivan had confessed to her that Amber had sucked him off. He had admitted he liked it. Zanhass wanted to see how Amber did it. Whatever the technique, Zanhass would do it the same way for Kivan next blow job.
Richerd watched Zanhass watch him fuck Amber’s mouth. Seeing the interest Zanhass was showing in watching the show, his hips moved faster, climax mounting.
Richerd’s shaft twitched manfully in Amber’s mouth then twitched manfully a second time. Zanhass, sexually aroused and wanting Kivan so very much, watched as mounds of Clothspinner cum went down Amber’s throat. Despite the amount Master Richerd shot, only a bit escaped from Amber’s lips, rolling down her chin to drip onto the floor.
Satisfied to have blasted a nice load of cum down Amber’s throat, Richerd lost his desire for Zanhass...as was Amber’s intention.
Amber dutifully laced Master Richerd back up. Papa’s directions to Amber about guarding Zanhass’s chastity had been left wide in scope. He expected Amber to deal with the details herself. Amber doubted Papa anticipated his daughter would be giving head in the fulfillment of his instructions.
******************************************
Cadwarra got little sleep in Denham Mossclean’s big new bed.
Toward morning, she lay there as Master Mossclean had her yet again. She felt an incredible orgasm sweep over her as if Tunare approved of her service done throughout that night. A second then a third orgasm shook her. She wasn’t usually a moaner but the Night Watchman, doing his last round of the night, heard her clearly as he passed nearby. “Someone’s gettin’ a nice piece of tail” he muttered jealously to himself, unsure where the moans were coming from.
The madness of Tunare left Mossclean alone as dawn arrived. He dozed. He woke with Cadwarra cuddled in his arms. To his horror, he realized both he and Cadwarra were naked in the same bed. His left hand held her soft breast. He was embarrassed to be holding such a huge amount of female boob though relieved to realize that Tunare had finally left him in peace.
There was a belated note that the messenger Baltazar had slipped under the door sometime during the night. Amber Vishra was letting Master Mossclean know that Zanhass was staying the night as a guest of hers at Lady Cadwarra’s apartments. Mossclean assumed his daughter had been provided a single bed and had dutifully slept alone.
Cadwarra declined a polite offer to stay for breakfast. She sensed Mossclean’s discomfort. She thanked him for last night, leaving things vague as to what about last night she was thanking him for. She could’ve at least kissed him on the cheek, but Mossclean looked scared she would do so. She tucked her new armour pieces under her arm and for his sake departed without further displays of affection, deserving though he was of such.
She stepped out into Willow Wood, blissfully full of Mossclean’s cum. Folks were heading out to go about their business. Some looked at her, carrying her new armour. They idly wondered what was a stranger doing buying armour in the Mossclean smithy way before it was normally open for business. Others wondered why she had a contented smile on her face.
One housewife noted her hickey. “Ah...” she whispered to her friend “...a love bite and hair uncombed...the freshly fucked look!” They both chuckled approvingly.
Perhaps it was Cadwarra’s imagination, but it seemed Tunare had filled her with a feeling of contentment as reward for her good deeds in the Mossclean bed. Or maybe it was the fact that she had just had the best night of fucking she had ever enjoyed. She had had more pleasure last night then she even had the time the Sargeant and his son, Lord Forest, had taken big dicking turns on her until the small hours of the morning.
Whatever the cause of her contentment, Cadwarra figured she had best tell the Old Druidess how things had gone before she left Willow Wood. Or maybe it was just her urge to boast.
The Old Druidess noted how tenderly Cadwarra was walking but said nothing. “I was just about to make breakfast then head to the Temple” the Old Druidess said as she took Cadwarra’s cloak. “Not that I will be very productive today...seeing as how you and Master Mossclean kept me up all night with those extensive waves of divine energy. Did that man ever stop screwing you? He might have given you a rest now and then.”
“I got a little sleep” Cadwarra lied. She petted the Old Druidess’s cat. Despite the waves of magic that Mossclean and Cadwarra were making all last night, he seemed very old and very tired. She let him sleep.
The Old Druidess held a pair of huge vulrich eggs in her hands. “We’ll have two eggs this morning” she told Cadwarra “though normally you and I could share an egg and be full...I mean, each one of them is as big as that hickey on your neck.”
Cadwarra self-consciously touched her love bite.
Without putting down the eggs, the Old Druidess cast a heal spell and the embarrassing bruise disappeared. “If you don’t mind, please start me a fire.”
Cadwarra built the fire with cedar kindling laid crosswise on the bottom. Small logs were placed above that. She could not find the tinder box and asked where it was.
“Just snap your fingers, Sweetie.”
Cadwarra had no idea why she complied with such am odd suggestion but one did not disobey a Druid. With a mere snap of her fingers, the kindling burst into flame.
“My, what a night with Master Mossclean can do for a young girl” the Old Druidess observed as the fire spread to ignite the smaller logs. Cadwarra added a larger log and closed the door to the stove. “That ability might be useful” she opined.
The Old Druidess was less impressed. “Nevermind your new trick of lighting fires. Do my Old Tom a favour and cast a heal spell on him.”
Cadwarra obliged. The Old Tom awoke. It was probably the light but he seemed to have less grey on his muzzle. He got up and stalked about the cottage, checking nooks and crannies for mice. He looked very healthy.
“Oh my, Cadwarra. Now that’s how you cast a heal spell on a cat! Just how much cum did you get from Master Mossclean last night?”
Cadwarra did not answer. She felt the Madam Druidess already knew.
The Old Druidess placed a huge serving of omelet in front of Cadwarra. “Have some breakfast, Honey...if you aren’t too full from Master Mossclean.”