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Introduction:

Handsome Diamander. Everyone is determined to keep him away from cock.

Despite the slight chill in the late night air, Cadwarra and Amber were enjoying the walk home. They talked about how so many men had danced quite close to them.

“I think it was our dresses made the men want to waltz with us so much” Cadwarra guessed. Amber was pretty sure it was the dresses.

“They need to be more careful” Cadwarra continued. “I felt quite a few erections brush against me. I did not say anything, though. I did not want to embarrass them. Perhaps they did not realize they were hard.”

“Yes. I am sure they did not mean to press their big dicks against us” Amber answered, though her tone suggested the opposite.

They walked on. A little tipsy and horny enough to be indiscreet, Cadwarra suddenly confided to Amber that none of the cocks felt anything close to Papa’s size.

Amber took note of that bit of information, her interest in the size of Papa’s member purely pragmatic. Arleena had on several occasions brought up the fact that she had heard rumours of Papa’s size. She had wanted Amber to ‘arrange things’ for her. Amber had not quite gotten around to ‘arranging things’, though, not sure how you tell your father that your best friend wants to have a shag with him.

Amber decided to change the subject, a little uncomfortable discussing her father like that. “You and Lord Bowerbrook got the last good room” she lamented. “Earl Marshford and I got one way down the hall, without a double tub. If you complain to Mama by claiming you got the bad room maybe she’ll renovate the bath enclosure properly for next time.”

Cadwarra had no intention of lying. Having met Lady Vishra, Cadwarra was aware of her power and determined to keep her as an ally. She adroitly switched topics. “So you were further down the hall? That wasn’t you next to me with the fellow that couldn’t stay hard?”

“Oh! Marr forbid!” Amber answered “Lord Marshford and his wrinkled old wiener got plenty hard before we even left the dance floor. He had it pushed against me just as eagerly as the guys at school used to do when they danced with me. I guess boys never grow up and stop doing that.”

Having had one too many Jizz Fizzes, Amber lost her footing briefly. Catching herself in time she boasted proudly “I kept Lord Marshford nice and hard ‘til he finished inside me.” Her modesty lessened by the the alcohol in all those Jizz Fizzes, she was quite proud of the large load of cum that had flowed from the old Earl’s cock, surging into her juicy interior.

As they continued on down the empty streets the discussion of their sexual experiences that evening devolved into more and more graphic details of things such as the many cocks each had encountered in their sexual adventures and what they most liked about the way men used those cocks. They discussed how every cock is different and how the cum they shot varies in consistency, volume, taste and shooting distance.

“I love when it spurts really far” Amber stated.

“I just want lots of it to pump out all over me” Cadwarra answered. She thought of the night of her trial and her three Jurors. “I like it when it comes from more then one cock.”

They then fell into speculating as to how much of what a male ate affected the taste and thickness of his semen. “I swear, each Jizz Fizz I had tonight tasted just a bit different. I need to reserve one of the stable boys exclusively for my Jizz Fizzes next time. I just need to identify the one with the tastiest nut.”

That got Cadwarra to thinking. “If we swallowed the same man’s cum on two different nights but he had eaten the same meal each night” she pondered out loud “do you suppose we would find he tasted the same or different?” Cadwarra would not have asked that question out loud had she known that a half dozen drunks were just about to come around the corner from the direction of the Irontoe’s East Tavern. It was obvious from their reaction that they had heard what she said.

The drunks were clearly pleased to have unexpectedly happened along two very pretty girls in the deserted street, talking about eating cum and displaying their breasts in revealing dresses for all to see. The defenseless girls had no bodyguard in sight and by their conversation were clearly needing male servicing.

The lead fellow, as drunk as he could be while still able to walk, seemed to be spokesman of the group. “Sounds like there’s a coupla open minded sluts here that’ll ‘ppreciate a good fuck, boys.”

The big braggart lurched drunkenly and leered at Cadwarra’s chest. Not standing on ceremony he started unbuckling his belt. “So yer like ter swaller, Woodsy?...well, maybe yer’ll get t’ swaller muh cum lader. Right now I’m gonna fuck ya til it’s drippin’ outta yer cunt...over here ‘gainst this wall!”

The girls were disgusted to realize he had flopped his soft dick out, as if the flacid thing would impress anybody. Seemingly too drunk to get it up, he did not stop to consider that the unimpressive state of his weeny would be a problem confounding his stated intentions.

He eagerly took a drunken step toward Cadwarra, his little worm wiggling as he lurched slightly off balance. “Yer liddle fren’ there can pick which wunna my pals gets’er first while I fuck you, but we’re all gonna havva turn ‘ventually...wi’both of yous! Ha ha! Yer kin thankuss lader!”

His companions all laughed oafishly, looking forward to a fun time fucking a couple of high born Ladies who had not the wit to travel in the company of a squad of guards for protection in the dark streets.

There was a reason Marshall Vishra had not assigned any Housecarls to escort his daughter and mistress home: it was a waste of manpower. While Amber looked uncertainly at a situation she had never encountered before, Cadwarra knew how to address the problem. She spun around 360 degrees to launch one of her Area of Effect spells. There was a bright flash of light that dazzled everyone’s eyesight then the magic blow from her ‘Ancient Wrath’ hit the half dozen drunks full in the face. It knocked the whole group back on their asses.

Cadwarra had not put all her effort into the attack. The ruffians weren’t too hurt; just their pride plus some bruised buttocks and severely singed beards.

As the men lay there in stunned surprise, Cadwarra angrily stared them down. “You boys need to learn to ask politely if you want to celebrate Tunare with a couple of willing girls. You’ll catch more songbirds with honey than you will with vinegar.”

She waited, ready to launch a more deadly spell if needed, but the drunken bravado the boors had shown was now gone. None thought it wise to stand up and block her way. Seeing no reply from the brutes, Cadwarra dismissively walked on, dragging Amber in her wake.

The group was glad to see the departure of those two contrary females. They watched in defeat as Cadwarra and Amber turned a corner and were gone. “I didn’ know it was one of them magic caster’s” the Loudmouth apologized to his mates in answer to their angry glares. As if in defense he added “...but did you see that Woodsy’s titties bouncin’ while she danced round an’ fired off that spell!!? They were so close to tumbling outta that dress tha’ I was jussabout sick t’my pants. I mean they was prackt’ly bubblin’ outta her top!”

There was grudging admission that those boobs had certainly looked good bouncing away like that. One observed that the Wood Elf’s quiet friend also had cute nubs, even if a little small. The Chief Loudmouth tried to rise but his backside was too sore so he stayed down while summing up the situation. “By Bristlebane, y’all owe me a pint fer that show! Nice display of tits by both of them!”

They sat there nursing their hurts a bit longer. All agreed those were mighty fine bodies those revealing dresses were showing off. “If they din’ wanna fuck” one complaining drunk opined from the ground “why did they dress like that?” The rest sat there agreeing they were a couple of stuck-up cockteasers.

That was how Penley’s patrol found them, having been attracted by the sound of someone firing off a combat spell in the streets of Qeynos in contradiction to City ordnance. “It was a coupla’ Wood Elf brigands” the leader complained to Penley “flashin’ their tits to firs’ distrack’tus then usin’ magic to overwhelm us!” A little more sober, he found his feet in order to show respect to a Captain of the Guard. “We fought ‘em off tho’...kept our coin an’ they ran off...the ornery bitches.”

“Was either one of them a Dark Elf female?” Penley asked, not interested in tales of Feir’Dal banditry. “I had some Dark Elf whore safe and sound in jail under lock and key until someone had her released in the middle of the night. Now I have to apprehend her all over again.”

“We din’ get a good look at their faces, if you foller us Cap’n, but a’m pritty sure our muggers were Wood Elves. Never saw any Blueberry with’em. Ma’bee they was workin’ fer the Blueberry.”

“I suspect so” Penley replied. “If you see that Dark Elf bitch sneaking around, let us know.” While she spoke, Penley gave the man a quick up and down. She noticed he had his soft pecker out. She burst into a laugh at how small it was as she turned to her men. “Come on, Troops, there’s not much to see here...not much at all.” The whole squad had a good chuckle.

A block away, Amber turned admiringly to Cadwarra. “You sure straightened those goons out.”

“Silly drunks” Cadwarra answered. “I’m sure they are quite nice when sober.” She glanced back to make sure they had seen the last of the troublemakers.

Amber thought no more of the unpleasant men. She put an affectionate arm around Cadwarra’s waist and went back to girl-talking about the party. “How many men fucked you tonight?”

“Just your Father and Lord Bowerbrook. What about you?”

“Just Lord Marshford. And only because Alweya was tired and went home early. I was getting bored and he kept grinding his hard-on against my thigh and feeling me up on the dance floor. If he wasn’t going to keep his hands to himself I figured Mama would want me to take him somewhere discreet where the other guests couldn’t see me getting groped and think they could do it, too.”

In homage to the memory of Marshford’s attentions, Amber’s areolas were shrinking and crinkling under her diaphanous top. As the nipples hardened, Cadwarra reached over and cupped Amber’s small cute breast, running her fingertips softly over Amber’s awakened nipple. She teased Amber. “You liked his groping once he got on top of you in private, didn’t you? The very memory is making your nipple rise high and stiff while I touch it.”

Amber was acutely aware that Cadwarra’s nipples were also coming to attention, poking out under the lace in response to her frank talk. She brought her lips up to Cadwarra’s and kissed softly. Cadwarra answered with her own kisses. They stopped in the middle of the dark street so they could kiss properly. Breasts crushed together. Alone in the middle of the street, they necked for several minutes.

By the time they had got home they were ready for bed. Amber saw Cadwarra drape her dress over the back of a chair. She took up Cadwarra’s dress to hang it properly so it would not get wrinkles.

They did not relight the fire. They were too tired to do anything except climb naked into bed and cuddle close under the warm thick covers. Amber cupped Cadwarra’s left breast. She took the liberty of taking its nipple in her mouth. She had once sucked on Arleena’s breasts on a dare during a sleepover. She had liked it. She liked Cadwarra’s nipple, too. Cadwarra did not object as her mouth clamped onto it.

Amber was hoping Diamander would come home soon. She hoped to get him to fuck her first, then switch to Cadwarra then back to her. She imagined both of them kissing and sucking Diamander’s cock. It was big enough for both of them at once she reasoned.

When Diamander failed to appear Amber soon fell asleep, sucking on a mouthful of Wood Elf breast in consolation for the lovely cock she was wanting.

********************************************

It was four in the morning. Diamander was cold as he stood on the quay beside where the armed merchantman “The Prize of Prexus” was moored. The crew of the ”Prize” bustled about getting ready to depart. They ignored him. He pulled his formal dinner jacket around him. He wished the sun would rise and warm the air.

Baltazar was not there. There was no pack nor ticket waiting for him. Annoyed, Diamander stood there at the bottom of the gang plank, barred from coming aboard without a ticket and wondering where Baltazar and his luggage were.

Captain Coranis marched off the aft deck of The Prize then across the main deck, headed onto the quay. She strode down the gang plank unconcerned by how much it deflected under each vexed step she took. Her sea legs adjusted easily to the movement of the plank but the wild bending under the force of her angry stomps made her attractive tits bounce in the vertical plane with a large amplitude. The hands ashore, standing by the mooring lines prepared to cast off the instant the Captain gave the word, had a good look at their skipper’s jiggling fun-sacks. If she noticed they were looking, she did not reprimand them. She was too annoyed with Diamander to pay them any mind.

Diamander had never met Captain Abella Coranis before but he had heard several of the malicious lies that had been attached to her. Such fabrications would routinely spring up in the taverns of Qeynos and elsewhere, fostered by too much ale and by the jealousy of those who wished to explain away Coranis’s success by assassinating her character.

Being a mere Half Elf of questionable ancestry, and a woman to boot, Coranis suffered uncounted rumours spawned by resentful people who could not concede that such a base-born female could rise to the lofty position of Master and Majority Owner of an armed merchantman without some malevolent explanation for her success.

The wiser folks rightly dismissed the libelous tales about her as the stuff that lesser-educated folk might tell about a woman who had made it in a man’s world. Still, these vicious lies were bandied around over pints quaffed in the drinking establishments in every port The Prize of Prexus regularly visited.

“She spent time in Neriak” was how the story would always start “with those damnable Dark Elves. In exchange for a good time in her willing snatch, those Teir’Dal mages taught her their dark arts and evil tricks.”

The speed at which these slanders spread was due in good part by the men who were sexually aroused to imagine the pretty Coranis lying under various lusting Dark Elves, scandalously permitting the use of her attractive body in exchange for arcane knowledge. It would have spoiled the story had anyone stated the obvious: no one remembered her ever casting any such sorcery.

“I am sure Coranis encourages those stories herself” an old advisor to the Vishra’s had once told Diamander. “It puts a little fear into those prone to listen to ridiculous tales.”

The most ridiculous of those tales had been the persistent story of a time a Harbourmaster had given Coranis a hard time about some cargo she had ‘neglected’ to declare. The yarn went that she had cast a Charming spell on the overzealous Official. The charmed fellow had promptly walked like a zombie onto her ship in answer to her command. He was still on deck when her vessel sailed on the tide. When the Harbourmaster had returned in a few weeks, no worse for his voyage, he was less included to look closely at any contraband carried by The Prize of Prexus.

That particular fable would be repeated in every tavern in Qeynos, without fail, whenever the Prize of Prexus sailed into harbour. No matter how many times it was told, raucous laughter erupted. No sailor liked Harbourmasters.

One evening, a few seasons ago, the tale was told in the Mermaid’s Lure for the last time. On that night, while the end of the story was greeted by the usual round of mirth and toasts to the mishap suffered by the fictitious Harbourmaster, there was one old wind-burnt sailor who glowered sourly at the man telling the tale. “If that story is true, you bilge rat, go and bring us that Harbourmaster. I’ll give you twenty gold and a pint of ale if you can prove your stinking lies are nothing more than the loud fart you vented this morning while you were shittin’ out the cum yer boyfriend put up yer girly arse last night.”

The raconteur was not about to tolerate the insulting old drunk casting aspersions on his manliness. He was looking for a fight anyway. “And who are you, you old bugger, that you decided to stop fucking your mother long enough to come out for a drink with the real men?”

“Drinnen” was the answer. “I’m First Mate of The Prize of Prexus under Cap’n Abella Coranis. I sailed with her ten years now and can assure you I’ve never seen my skipper ever cast any spell. I do not like her being called a witch.”

“You don’t look so hard to belay, Old Son.”

Drinnen had looked daggers at the Storyteller but answered in a calm, cold voice. “I guess yer right. I’ll just sit here and wait fer the rest of my shipmates to get here...then we’ll start belayin’.”

After that, tavern-goers made up less lies about Captain Abella Coranis, but that did not change the consensus that even without her purported magic skills Coranis and her crew were a scary bunch to deal with.

Pondering whether Coranis encouraged such stories of sorcery or whether she supported her crew defending her against cruel falsehoods, Diamander watched her approach him.

He found her much too pretty to be a witch. Her exotic Elven features were accentuated by the way she wore her hair moderately short. Her upturned nose and full cheekbones must have tempted a good many sailors into her bed. Her skin was exceedingly dark. Though a deep rich chocolate rather than the blue of a Dark Elf, her complexion unfortunately lent credence to the stories of an affiliation with Dark Elves.

Coranis stopped confrontationally in front of Diamander. She had a look on her face like she wanted to keelhaul Diamander rather than wait a few more minutes for the bags and tickets he said were coming. She was not cowed by some rich kid who expected the seas and the winds to wait for him and his pals while she lost money.

Despite her pique, she was woman enough to appreciate that Diamander was tall and handsome. She observed he looked to be endowed in the place a man should be endowed. Her nipples woke up to be so close to him. They hardened and showed themselves under her chemise.

Diamander’s handsome features did not diminish her frustration that her ship should have been out of harbour a half hour ago. “Time and tide wait for no one” she told her possible passenger “and the wind is backing.”

Diamander could make no answer. Still cold, he thought of Cadwarra’s warm body in her soft bed. He hoped The Prize of Prexus would sail without him.

Finding no satisfaction in berating Diamander and trying to ignore the attraction she felt for him, Coranis turned and glared down the empty quay toward town, seeing no one. “If Llisanya and your bags do not show up in fifteen minutes, we cast off without you. I am not losing a days’ sail just because your friends decided to have one more fancy, expensive cocktail at the Red Lion while the tide went out without us.” Coranis kicked a pebble in frustration, sending it bouncing along the dock and falling with a ‘plop’ into the water. “This ship is carrying dispatches that are time sensitive and foodstuffs that can spoil. Troublesome passengers such as you are the least profitable cargo I carry; the only kind of freight I have to feed and the first I will leave dockside!”

Opposite to Llisanya, Captain Coranis had not inherited Elven hearing but her night vision was excellent in levels of light where Llisanya would have been blind. Coranis peered again down the quay to the shore where two running figures had just turned the corner. “Is that them?” she pointed impatiently, as if Diamander’s Human eyes could see any better than hers.

Fully aware of the late hour, Baltazar was sprinting with Llisanya slightly behind, doing her best to keep up. Having a professional pride in his work, Baltazar was annoyed to be performing his assigned task so poorly. They had almost missed the sailing. How would he have explained that to the Marshall?

It wasn’t his fault, though. It had been so easy to find Llisanya, still at the Vishra Mansion. The Housekeeper had been pretty surly about it but knew exactly which suite to lead Baltazar to. That left plenty of time to get her to the harbour.

They would have been onboard an hour ago but for the old pervert that had Llisanya locked in that suite with him. In answer to the Housekeeper’s knock he had answered in a very drunk voice “I’m not done with this wet-slitted whore yet! Wait your turn!”

“That bitch has kept Lord Russeau in there so long he seems to have drunk half the whiskey supplied to that room” the annoyed Housekeeper had complained to Baltazar. “I’ll need to use the contingency funds in the budget to replace it.”

Baltazar did not express concern for the Vishra contingency funds. He had been hoping there would be a little time before the sailing to have a nice fuck with Llisanya himself. Instead he stood outside the room alongside the grumpy Housekeeper trying not to hear the horny old bastard inside grunting and growling on top of Llisanya. With his acute hearing he jealously listened to the wetness of Llisanya’s pussy as Russeau’s cock slid audibly in and out. The squeaking of the bed increased exponentially.

Baltazar was sure Llisanya did not cum. The old fellow finally blew his precious ejaculation into his ‘wet-slitted whore’. By then Baltazar and Llisanya had had to run to make the sailing on time.

As the racing pair neared The Prize of Prexus, Coranis started shouting orders to her crew still on land. “Cast off, lads, we’re missing the tide!” Simultaneously she turned to the new arrivals, breathless from running. “Tickets, tickets...” the Skipper demanded frantically to anyone and everyone. She snapped her fingers impatiently several times.

Baltazar, seeing the haste of the crew, had already pulled the tickets from a side pocket in one of the packs. Coranis plucked them from his hand and gave them a cursory look. “These are those cheap tickets for working passengers“ she sputtered angrily. “Even less profit for me and my Partners. If I had known that I would not have waited for you.”

Coranis glared at everyone as if she had caught them personally picking her pocket then stuffed the documents in her cleavage and shouted “nevermind, get on!” She ran up the gangway. Baltazar noticed she had one nice looking ass.

Diamander and Llisanya lifted their packs up from where Baltazar had dropped them and hastened after Coranis onto the deck. “Bon Voyage!” Baltazar called after them as per Vishra’s instructions.

Last aboard came the remaining crewmen still ashore. The gangway was pulled up on deck Lines were stowed. The Prize of Prexus drifted slowly away from the quay, having just barely made the tide, and they were underway.

Diamander would have asked what a ‘working passenger’ was but sensed the Captain was in no mood to explain. He suspected his uncle had arranged the cheap working tickets to keep him too busy doing shipboard tasks to make ‘friends’ with one or two of the good looking sailors.

Coranis turned to Llisanya but did not waste any time getting reacquainted. “Just stow yourself and your dunnage below, Llisanya, and stay out of the way until we are out of the harbour. You know where the passenger berths are, just pick one; there are no other travelers this trip.”

Coranis then looked around searching for someone. She spotted her Cabin Boy. “Sam!”

Sam ran up and knuckled his forehead respectfully as Coranis pointed Diamander out to him. “Take this handsome fellow down to my cabin. He has too nice a package showing in his breeches for me to ignore any longer. Help him stow his gear and settle him in!”

“Aye, aye, Skipper!” Sam, not shocked in the least, grabbed Diamander’s pack and ran aft to the main companionway, not looking to ensure Diamander was following.

“Oh, no” Llisanya thought as Sam went below “poor Diamander and his ‘working ticket’. He is not going to be getting much sleep this voyage.”

Diamander, not one to stand there foolishly, nodded to Llisanya politely and followed Sam, prepared to meet whatever fate he would face.

No cabin boy had been assigned to help Llisanya stow her luggage. She hefted her pack and went below to her lonely bunk. She had been on a good handful of voyages in her life, twice sailing aboard The Prize of Prexus. She knew enough to stay below until the busy crew had cleared port. She had no desire to be the object of one of Captain Coranis’s infamous scoldings. She found the best cabin and moved in.

A little annoyed not to have packed her own things, she turned to her pack to see if it contained all she needed. She checked the smaller pockets first. As she expected, there was a letter from Marshall Vishra detailing all he expected of her aboard ship and in Everfrost. She read it twice to make sure she did not miss anything. Some of the tasks were routine and some...not so routine. One job would be quite unpleasant but would only need doing if Diamander failed to complete his task satisfactorily. His task seemed simple enough; he just had to tell his ex-’roommate’ to shut up.

She would also have some free time in New Halas. That meant she could drop in on old associates who might have a few problems in Qeynos she could look after for them once she got home. She folded her instructions back up and returned them to the small sidepocket.

She opened the main compartment of the pack next. She found her own dagger on top of everything and wondered who had broken into her room and then managed to find where she had hidden it. She knew it had not been Baltazar since he had complained all the way to the quay about being woken out of a nice warm bed.

She assumed it was the Marshall’s Clerk. This was confirmed when she found several pairs of her own panties neatly folded. None were her lacy, pretty ones. She made a mental note to take an inventory of her ‘unmentionables’ when she got home to see if the Clerk had stolen one of the sexy pairs. If so, that underwear-sniffing pervert would owe her a favour. That could always prove useful when she needed a future service from him; a service worth much more than the cost of the undergarment.

She dug deeper into the pack. Half the volume was filled with warm furs; a coat, trousers, boots, mitts and a hat. She guessed they were made of fox; not expensive, but very warm. Her previous trips to New Halas she could not afford to own furs. She had always been a bit chilled.

She pulled the garments out. Llisanya loved the furs. Seduced by the luxury, she rubbed the coat on her face, feeling the softness and the warmth of the fox pelt.

She remembered how Lord Russeau had lead her out of the darkened, deserted hall back to their room. He had immediately knocked back a large tumbler of whiskey to help him deal with the knowledge that the Vishra bill was going to pass on the morrow. He had then curtly ordered Llisanya to kneel. He had pulled out his now properly hard boner and pushed it around all over her face. The skin of his cock had felt as soft as the fox fur that now caressed her cheek. Russeau had then rubbed his dick all over her chest, watching her breasts yield as he poked his knob straight into her tits. She could see he was ready for his second fuck of the night but he first paused to refill his glass and quaff more of the expensive alcohol. He put the empty glass down, pushed her back and stuck his dick in her. She soon felt his hot cum pour into her.

Llisanya could feel the ship rolling much more now. They must have cleared Coldwind Point and turned north toward the cold Frostfang Sea. The weather seemed a little inclement but it was nothing the crew could not handle and she gave it no more mind. She thought instead of the thrill of having old Russeau enjoy her nakedness as if she was his virgin daughter, there to be despoiled.

Llisanya could not help herself, she undid her tunic and rubbed the soft fur on her exposed chest. It felt so luxurious caressing her uncovered flesh. She wondered would Russeau have liked to rub furs all over her nude body? She closed her eyes and enjoyed the extravagant touch of plush fur on bare skin, feeling her nipples rise long and thick. Russeau had pushed her nipples together, delighting in the sight of them touching each other. He had taken both of the erect stems into his mouth and sucked them simultaneously for a long time. They glistened with his saliva as he pulled his hungry mouth off of them with a smack. He had then gotten into position to fuck her for his third time that night.

The crew topside were running about doing the myriad tasks required on a sailing ship but all sounded in order. She heard nothing of concern as the crew went about their routine. Recalling the perverse pleasure of her time under Russeau as he huffed and panted as enthusiastically as Daddy used to do, Llisanya ignored the sailors’ footsteps above and just kept rubbing her breasts into the coat, chin tilted up. She thrilled to remember how Russeau had pawed her unapologetically while he humped her. The old bastard had had his hands all over her as he fucked away, groping her like a piece of meat. “Daddy...” Llisanya had whispered to him. There had been a knock at the door and Russeau had yelled out “I’m not done with this wet-slitted whore yet! Wait your turn!”

There was a polite cough from the open door of the passenger cabin. Llisanya opened her eyes with a start. It was the Cabin Boy, Sam. Rather liking the show, he was nonetheless too considerate not to warn Llisanya of his presence. He had always been a decent young fellow.

Llisanya silently scolded herself for allowing herself to be in such a vulnerable position; sitting on the deck with her eyes closed, chin up, throat exposed and the door left unlocked. While she was indulging her sensual needs, totally unguarded, anyone could have crept in and cut open her larynx.

It was not like that was likely to happen aboard Captain Coranis’s well-disciplined ship but it was still foolish of her. No one ever got knifed when a knifing was likely to happen; you got knifed when you did not expect it, like now. Thank Bristlebane it was only Sam that was spying on her by the light of the early morning sunrise shining through the single porthole. He was surely enjoying the cheap thrill.

Sam had grown since she had last sailed with him. Soon he would be too old to be a cabin boy. “Hello, Sam” she greeted him, not stopping what she was doing. “Did you get the Captain’s playmate-for-the-voyage all settled in?”

Sam nodded and answered “aye, Lord Diamander will be quite comfortable, though he did seem a bit surprised by his expected duties.” His eyes were fixed on the top of Llisanya’s cleavage, tantalizingly uncovered by the coat that nevertheless hid her naked tits.

There was no reason to pretend Sam had not seen her masturbating her breasts with her furs and so Llisanay did not interrupted her indulgence. It felt nice and she did not mind Sam getting a show. Last voyage he would have been too young to watch, but he was old enough now to see a half-naked exhibitionist. “Looks like we are to be shipmates for a third voyage together” she told him calmly as the fur massaged her breasts.

“So it seems, Miss Llisanya.” He finally lifted his gaze from her fur coat, giving up the hope he would see a glimpse of her nipples. “It will be good having you aboard, again. Even the Captain seemed pleased to see you; she hardly even yelled at you for delaying our departure.” He looked back down at Llisanya’s fur coat, frustrated by how effectively it was covering her tits.

Llisanya kept rubbing her furs all over her chest. She got less careful about what the coat concealed. Sam got a quick glimpse of one erect nipple then the other. His heart jumped. He had seen them! They were very pretty, all pink and hard. Miss Llisanya had not let him view her nips last voyage.

Seeing where Sam was looking, Llisanya passed the fur coat to him. “Here, Sam. Why don’t you rub my coat on my tits while we talk? Just do what I was doing.” She recognized this was a chance to get Sam to catch her up on the latest scuttlebutt onboard ship.

Sam finally had a full view of Llisanya’s breasts as he took the coat from her. They were as beautiful as the older sailors had avowed last time Llisanya had sailed with them. Everyone that had came back to the crew’s quarters after bedding her had marveled at how high her breasts perched. Sam could now see for himself that his messmates had not been exaggerating.

He began lightly rubbing Llisanya’s tits with the coat just as he had seen her doing it. “Skipper wants to know if you are armed” he told her in explanation as to why he was down below spying on her. “...Seeing as how your have a working ticket” he added.

Sam kept rubbing. He could feel how soft those breasts were under the thick coat as he pushed them gently around.

He had a near painful stiffy. Maybe Miss Llisanya would let him use it on her. Last voyage, Llisanya had charged the sailors five silver for a fuck, six if they wanted to cum on her face. She had not let Sam fuck her, though. She had told him he was too young. This voyage he was much older. She was even letting him see her titties for free. Surely he could be her customer this time.

He lamented that he did not have the silver needed to buy Llisanya for an hour. Why did he blow all his coin ashore last night in Irontoe’s East? While he had waited for the Skipper to discuss shipping arrangements with that nasty Halfling Lodi Bightn he had learned to play poker with some kindly gamblers. It had been an expensive lesson. Penniless, Sam could only sit across from Llisanya feeling her breasts through a thick fur while he awaited her answer concerning her weaponry.

“You may tell your Skipper that I have a sharp dagger, Sam...and feel free to rub my tits a little harder, if you don’t mind.”

Sam complied, pushing her tits around a bit faster. Llisanya closed her eyes again, liking the feel of Sam’s hands using the fur coat to massage her boobs. “Can you tell me why Captain Coranis is so worried about me having a weapon? I assumed my working ticket allowed me to charge your shipmates a bit of silver for a good time in my bunk. Now it seems I am supposed to be fighting? Fighting what?”

“Gunthak Pirates, Miss Llisanya. I think that’s the reason Skipper is glad to have you along. Ever since Freeport built those extra patrol ships the Pirates have shifted over to prey on Qeynos shipping. Captain Coranis has got silly preoccupied with Gunthak Pirates.”

He continued feeling up Llisanya while he told her more. “Sure, they have gotten very brazen this season but this is an armed merchantman. Those cowards would not be stupid enough to attack us no matter how slim the pickings are of late. The Skipper is just being too careful is all.”

Llisanaya noticed Sam had stopped rubbing the fur over her exposed chest and was instead just feeling her tits through the coat. He was squeezing them. He was squeezing them a little too hard for most women to enjoy but Llisanya liked it. “Harder, Sam” she told him “squeeze as hard as you can.”

Sam used all the force he had in his grip to crush Llisanya’s breasts. He suffered the irrational fear that they would split open like a grapefruit if he crushed harder but he still applied all his strength. They did not burst in his hands as he feared. Llisanya sucked in her breath and moaned in pleasure under the painful abuse to her breasts.

She loved having her boobs crushed but she pulled Sam’s clutching hands from them before they became bruised. Fiona had been adamant that one never lets a customer see the marks a previous customer left.

Llisanya took the fur coat from Sam and laid it on her lap as a pillow. She was thinking of the way Russeau had fucked her. She had loved the feel of his thick length gliding in and out and in and out as he kept his weight on top of her. He liked to ram hard, leaning forward to lock lips with hers. She had answered his slobbering kisses with her equally wet kisses, tasting the taste of expensive whiskey in his mouth. Unfortunately, old men like Russeaou never made her cum. She so wanted to feel that orgasmic release rolling over her body. Maybe Sam would make her climax. She liked Sam. She could let him mount her. He was a sweet kid.

“Lie down here, Sam. I want you to suck on my tits.”

He had Llisanya’s nipple in his mouth in a thrice, lying in her lap on his back. He nursed happily while Llisanya told him what she knew of the Pirate Problem. “I am sure you are correct that it will be an uneventful trip. As for these Gunthak Pirates, your skipper need not worry too long. Rumours are that Qeynos is voting in some funding today to increase their own navy. Most of Queen Antonia’s council will give her their support for the bill authorizing the expenditure. As long as the ship-building bill passes, these pirates will be chased off back to the viper pits they spawned in.”

Llisanya switched Sam over to her other nipple. She kept talking. “I figure the Vishra shipyards will get the bulk of the work, which is why they are pushing the vote to approve. They’ll build some good ships; they built the Prize of Prexus way back in the days of Old Marshall Vishra, you know.”

Llisanya stroked Sam’s forehead affectionately as his tongue played with her nipple. She could tell by the rolling of the ship that they had long left the coast behind and were out in the open sea. No doubt Coranis had left the ship in the care of First Mate Drinnen while she had Diamander down in her cabin, trying him out.

One of the Marshall’s tasks for Llisanya was to keep Diamander sexually satisfied on the voyage so he would not be tempted by some handsome fag sailor. It seems Coranis intended to do that work for her. That meant Llisanaya would be paid a pretty good wage for not doing anything. She would also have time for quite a bit of ‘freelance’ work with the rest of the crew.

The thought of all that possible shipboard cock excited Llisanya. There was no reason not to start with Sam. She reached down and slipped her hand into Sam’s trousers. She found his hard prick and held it. That lad had indeed grown a bit since they had last shipped together. “I am charging the same as last voyage” she told him “Do you have five silver, Sam?”

Sam did not remove Llisanya’s nipple from his mouth as he shook his head negative. With his lips locked hungrily on her teat her breast jiggled side to side. Seeing the lad had no silver she regretfully explained “I can’t fuck for free, Sam. If I let you have a free time on top of me all your shipmates are going to ask for a discount, too.”

Sam nodded his head sadly to acknowledge he understood. Llisanya’s tit bobbed up and down in his mouth as he did so.

“Oh, well...” Llisanya sighed, disappointed. Russeau had left her so horny. Still, she wisely decided to keep to her resolve to not be giving up her love for free. It was not good for business.

She could feel Sam’s erection at full mast, though. It was so tempting to open her legs for him. She needed to resist temptation. “Would you like a complimentary handjob” she asked and moved her hand up and down on Sam’s hard penis. “Call this a ‘free sample’...”

Stroking slowly at first, her pumping increased enthusiastically as Sam rose onto his knees and began thrusting his hips, fucking her fist and breathing harder until he gasped and let out a long, happy, satisfied moan.

Sam relaxed. Llisanya pulled her hand out of Sam’s trousers. It was covered in warm, sticky jism. There was a lot.

She thought of how much Falco had shot that first time they screwed in front of the window for all to see. She remembered how everyone saw her with Falco’s spunk all over her nakedness as she stretched to close the curtains.

Sam had not shot quite as much as Falco but it was still a good quantity. She let him watch her licking it all up from between her fingers. The look on Sam’s face as he watched her have her meal gave her a tiny climax...just a tiny one.

Sam found it very erotic to watch Llisanya making a meal of his sperm. He so wished he had not lost all his coin to those fast-dealing Halfling gamblers instead of saving it for Miss Llisanya.

Miss Llisanya was swallowing the last of his cum. Miss Llisanya was so pretty.

****************************************

Kivan woke late with a start. The dawning sun poured into his room. He had overslept. Lady Vishra would be waiting for him.

He did not have time to jerk off some more though the love he had for the Lady Cadwarra filled his lusting thoughts and his dick was hard as soon as he thought again of all that leg she had shown him last evening. He only had time to wash the dried cum from his body and quickly get dressed.

“Finally, there’s my page!” Lady Vishra spoke as the tardy Kivan was admitted to her chambers. She was not pleased to have been waiting a full fifteen minutes beyond the time when she would have expected the page to present himself.

Her maid, Jenna, had already finished dressing her and had gone to fetch coffee for her Mistress. Kivan was alone with the great Lady’s disapproval. “After your display of incompetence last night with that tray of oysters, I would have expected you would make sure to be on time this morning, Page.”

Kivan, stung by the verbal reprimand, bowed deep. He was smart enough to know that any excuses or apologies would serve to do nothing but annoy Lady Vishra.

He had been correct that Lady Vishra had not required an answer to her first question. She changed the subject. “So you like sexy little Ladies in skimpy, revealing dresses, do you, Master Kivan?”

Kivan was not honoured in any way to be called ‘Master Kivan’. He was several social classes below deserving the title of ‘Master’ and interpreted the term to be a sarcastic comment on the familiarity he had shown to a full-fledged Lady; specifically the lovely Cadwarra.

Despite the sarcasm, he perceived that Lady Vishra was more amused by his faux pas than offended by it. He was still very embarrassed to be reminded of his clumsy stupidity and wandering eyes last evening.

“Never mind, Kivan...we need to discuss your future with this household...or, perhaps...shall we say...your venture into a new career.”

Kivan’s heart sank. It looked like he was being fired after all. He concluded that Lady Vishra was one of those employers that wanted to perform dismissals herself. There were Households, whispered by Downstairs over after-dinner tea, where the Lord or Lady of such Houses enjoyed firing people daily. Sackings occurred like clockwork, just for the amusement of the cruel Master or Matron. Up until now there had been no indication that the Vishra House was any such place but there he stood suffering such vicious termination of employment.

There was a short silence. Lady Vishra seemed to be dragging out the dismissal, savouring the power she had. The door opened just then. Lady Vishra turned. “Well, here comes Jenna with my coffee.”

Kivan thought Jenna was the prettiest of all the maids. Only a year older than him, she had been kind to Kivan during his short employment in the Vishra Manour. She had a lovely laugh when someone told a good joke at the staff dinner table and performed her duties with such grace.

“M’Lady” Jenna apologized “there are so many maids that went home with some of the guests last night that no one was assigned to milk the cow. I am sorry, but your coffee is black. Samandra has only just gotten back and I am sure will be immediately sent to get some cream, but it will be a short while before she is done.”

“Well, that is troubling, Jenna. I’ll need to speak to Head Butler Jamison about hiring a few ugly girls so they won’t be swept up by our guests.”

Jenna smiled politely at Lady Vishra’s joke then curtsied a beautiful curtsy.

Lady Vishra scrutinized her black coffee with disappointment. “Surely, Jenna” Mistress Vishra pondered “you can use your resourcefulness and find cream somewhere. Several men wanted to take you home last night but I steered them away to other maids thinking I needed you here this morning. Now you cannot find me a little fresh cream?”

Jenna curtsied again, appearing at a loss to do anything else. She was glad of the several silver coins in her bodice from not a few lords feeling her breasts last night as she served appies but she was betrothed and appreciated that Lady Vishra had deflected any attempts by the men to take her to bed. Her ‘Intended’ preferred that Jenna only sleep with him. If she wanted Lady Vishra’s protection from these horny Lords at the next Vishra gathering she reckoned she needed to prove herself useful and find a solution to the unwanted black coffee.

Jenna caught sight of Kivan standing in silent attendance until he was addressed again. He was that awkward kid they had hired when the former page had run away to Freeport, seduced by lies about how great life was there. Jenna had spent half of last evening helping to jag off all kinds of lads for the needed cum cocktails, but she had not jagged off Kivan. Surely he had a lot of “cream”...

Jenna was Lady Vishra’s maid because the two women seemed to be able to understand what each was thinking. Lady Vishra was quick enough to see the look Jenna had given Kivan. “Yes, Jenna” she said, reading her maid’s thoughts. “How clever of you to think of it! I think Kivan may be the solution.”

Kivan had no idea what the women were talking about. “Just stand still, Page” Lady Vishra commanded. “Let Jenna see if this will work...”

Jenna grabbed a convenient stool and plopped it down in front of Kivan, then she set the full coffee cup on it. Significantly it was level to his crotch. “Just stay there, Kivan” she instructed him. “We need to do this quickly before the coffee gets cold.”

Do this? Do what? Kivan was shocked when Jenna, pretty Jenna, reached to undo the laces of his servants’ breeches without so much as a by-your-leave. He jumped back in consternation.

“Don’t pull away, Silly” Jenna scolded Kivan. “The coffee’s getting cold! I’m sure you won’t take long.”

Kivan was embarrassed. Jenna was reaching into his pants and trying to grab his soft penis like it was routine. He started to become erect. She got ahold of the thing. It grew to full size in her hand.

It proved hard to pull it out through his fly with it now completely enlarged. The repeated bouts of masturbation last night seemed to have no affect on his ability to sport a full erection. It finally was pulled out and exposed for the females to admire.

Jenna liked Kivan’s cock. She had been wondering what size he had. Now she knew. It was a pretty one, too, all things considered. It was maybe a half inch longer than her future husband’s. Kivan’s was uncircumcised.

Jenna began to work Kivan’s hard dick. He did not cum as quickly as she anticipated. Her whack job was quite expert but Kivan was not cumming. The coffee was cooling. “I am sorry M’Lady. He is not reacting like a typical male.”

“Why are you surprised?” Lady Vishra laughed, wiser than her maid. “I imagine he has been jerking off all night to the memory of Lady Cadwarra’s thigh. Just keep stroking that lovely wang, Jenna. He’ll shoot his sperm eventually if you keep working on it.”

Lady Vishra watched Jenna’s delicate hand pumping Kivan’s hard-on. The sight was making her horny. The Lady lifted her eyes and looked at the young, pretty Wood Elf boy. “Kivan, a small lesson for your next place of employment: make sure you have a ready supply of cum all loaded up for a near instant blast for the Ladies of the House. Beating off alone is not what a good servant would do. That’s just common sense.”

Kivan could not deny Lady Vishra’s accusation of his self-abuse last night. He stammered something unintelligible, embarrassed that by not repudiating it he was admitting to having a night of repeated auto-satisfaction. Jenna now knew he was a perverted masturbator.

That embarrassment plus the worry for his unknown future with no job did not aid toward any achievement of his reluctant orgasm. Frustrated by the time it was taking, Jenna got onto her knees, leaned forward and started sucking Kivan off, gripping his dick by the base. He watched his cock disappear in and out of Jenna’s pretty mouth. She looked like she was enjoying it, fiancé or not.

The sight of Jenna swallowing his cock was finally enough to push him to the brink of eruption. “I’m coming” he told the top of Jenna’s bobbing head because all boys feel the need to inform a female of their impending orgasm.

Jenna took her mouth off his stiff prick and aimed it at Lady Vishra’s coffee. His ejaculation was hardly impressive. Between his last self-induced orgasm and the time he woke in the morning he had slept for about two hours. That was all the time his body had had to make more semen. He suddenly realized that waking too late to beat off again had been a blessing. At least he had something to shoot for pretty Jenna to see.

Jenna, holding his now soft cock, watched his paltry cumshot gloop from his prick and drop into Lady Vishra’s coffee. It floated in a couple of blobs on top.

His quantity did not impress Jenna, especially after all her hard work. She squeezed his cock up from the base but only a very little bit more oozed out and down into the coffee. “Kivan” she chastised him “we’ll need more than that. Stay there!” She began working once more on his fid but it flopped around uselessly as she futilely pulled on him.

Lady Vishra could see the coffee was only going to get colder. “Leave it, Jenna. You’re flogging a dead horse.” She held out her hand. “Pass me my cup.”

Lady Vishra took the drink from Jenna’s hands and examined it, shaking her head. “This is all we are going to get from our little jerk off champion this morning, Jenna. He left most of his seed on his pillow, lusting over Lady Cadwarra. But I guess this will be enough to know if your idea works.”

Lady Vishra lifted her coffee and took a sip. Kivan and Jenna both watched her suck some coffee and a floating gob of cum into her mouth. She slowly swallowed, noting with bemusement how both Jenna and Kivan were waiting to see her reaction. Jenna was clearly anxious that her mistress enjoyed the ‘creamed coffee’. Kivan seemed fascinated by the sight of a Great Lady swallowing his jackjuice.

Lady Vishra took a second sip. The last of Kivan’s floating sperm went down her throat. After a pregnant pause Lady Vishra announced “Delicious! Jenna, good solution. Why did we not think of this before?” Jenna visibly relaxed.

Lady Vishra looked at her soon-to-be-fired Page. “Kivan, lovely cum. What a shame we won’t have you staying with us longer; I may start having a ‘creamed’ coffee every morning and you do taste quite delicious.”

Lady Vishra then added ruefully “of course, creamed coffee will be better when it’s not lukewarm and with a man-sized volume of cum floating in it.” Despite her complaint, she downed the rest of the black coffee and set the cup back on the stool.

Jenna perceived her Lady was done with coffee and started tucking Kivan’s cock away. She did up his laces as if he was unable to perform such a task himself.

Lady Vishra now spoke in a more businesslike tone. “And I suppose we now need to speak regretfully about your departure from this house, Kivan...”

Here it was. The Head Butler had been cruelly playing with his hopes that he would remain in service while knowing all along that he was to be let go in the morning.

Lady Vishra did not prolong the inevitable with long-winded platitudes about how they were not displeased with his work but had decided to go with different staff, et cetera. She got to the point. “For your last morning employed with this House, Page Kivan, you are to go to the Willow Wood Village and see a blacksmith named Denham Mossclean. I have it on good recommendation that he is excellent at teaching blacksmithing and related skills. While I was waiting for you to deign to come see me this morning, I sent Mossclean a message that he is to teach you the fundamentals of armour polishing and maintenance of weaponry. You are to arrange more lessons with him as your other duties in your new position permit.”

Lady Vishra paused. She did not mention who was paying Master Mossclean for these lessons nor what this new position was. “You getting this, Page?”

Kivan bowed. “Yes, M’Lady...Denham Mossclean in Willow Wood...”

“Good...return to me after the midday meal. I will be lunching with my daughter, Lady Amber, who will be assisting me in setting up the household of my husband’s newest mistress. Lady Amber will take you to your new Household. You will look after the Lady’s armour and weapons and attend to other duties as required. Naturally, you will also keep from ogling said mistress’s nudity as you help her don her armour. Leave that for my husband to do.” Lady Vishra laughed spontaneously in response to her own little ribald joke then looked back at Kivan. “Is there anything you do not understand as regards your new place of employment?

“N-no Lady Vishra.” Kivan, heartsick at his firing, failed to console himself with the knowledge that at least he was not unemployed. His new duties sounded demeaning compared to belonging on the staff of a prestigious High House.

Lady Vishra seemed pleased to hear that Kivan had no questions. “Good, Kivan. There remains only one more item to discuss and it is important.” She looked straight at Kivan. “I will from time to time be discreetly summoning you to provide me an update as to anything unusual going on in the apartments of my husband’s mistress. I know I can rely on you to mention our meetings to no one, not even your Lady. In return for such information, you will be well compensated. Is that understood, Kivan?”

It was understood and Kivan went to go pack what little he owned. It all fit into a very small sack. He went to take leave of the Head Butler.

The Head Butler was still trying to get the tasks of the morning completed. Only a few of the maids ‘borrowed’ last night had returned in good time. The remainder were still trickling in. Most had been bedded so hard by their hosting Lord, with the resulting lack of sleep, as to be half useless for the remainder of the day.

Maddeningly, rather than get right to work, they wasted further time by comparing tips in order to identify for next time which Lords were the most generous. Information regarding the Lords’ relative ‘sizes’ were also exchanged, accompanied by silly giggles. Some girls stood around complaining about how little sleep their Lord had allowed them to get; some girls stood around complaining their Lord should have stayed awake longer. They all were glad of the coin they earned.

None of the giggling girls thought to start earning their wages and get to their duties. Samandra should have been out milking the cow, for instance. Instead, all the young girls on staff gathered around her to hear about her especially scandalous night. Her particular Lord had chosen her to relieve his twin sons’ of their virginities.

“They had no idea what they were doing” Samandra chortled as titillated snickers rose from her audience in response. She described in great detail how the young lads had inexpertly climbed on top of her, the first-born going first. Despite their obvious nervousness, each in turn had found her entrance and used it to unburden himself of the shame of being the last in their peer group to get laid. For the rest of the night, they had made the most of the pretty maid their father had brought home for them.

“Despite their inexperience” Samandra admitted “there was something flattering about how one of them would finish and get off me and the other one would eagerly pounce back on top just as soon as his brother got out of the way.” As she described the night of continued lost innocence she remembered the feel of their cocks penetrating her repeatedly. The flames in the bedroom fireplace had slowly died down to ashes while the dawn began to light the sky and the twins kept screwing her. Eventually the morning maid came in to stoke the fire and announce that breakfast was ready.

Someone asked Samandra the obvious question. “They were exact twins” Samandra confirmed with a grin. “Every long inch of them.” There were more silly giggles.

Head Butler Jamison had had enough. He had just been made aware that the Lady Vishra had been sent coffee without cream. He was completely out of patience. “Samandra!” he scolded her in an angry tone. “...And the rest of you, too! You all got to spend the night in silken sheets getting a good fuck and some pretty good financial gifts for the effort. All that is now required of you is to get to work and start earning the pay you are draining from the Vishra budget.” He swept an angry arm across the group and pointed to a door. “Get to your tasks!”

In the midst of haranguing the young maids, the Page came up to him, a small sack over his shoulder. As the chastised females rushed guiltily off to their chores the Head Butler turned impatiently to Kivan.

“I’ve been fired” Kivan said bluntly, unexpectedly blubbering. “I am to go polish the armour of Lord Vishra’s girlfriend.”

Still frustrated by the silly girlish chatter, the Head Butler did not have time to molly-coddle Kivan. The foolish boy was crying like a baby.

Incredulous at the lad’s stupidity he reminded himself that Kivan had not had the benefit of sitting with Lord Vishra’s Clerk last night over a pint and hearing of the last minute arrangements regarding Kivan’s new work assignment. He calmed himself a little but his tone was still curt. “Stop sniveling, Boy! You are to look after Lady Cadwarra’s armour, not just polish it!”

He saw the puzzlement this brought to Kivan’s face and he spoke more gently. “You haven’t been fired, Kivan. You’ve been promoted to the rank of a Paladin’s Squire.”

---