Usurped By My Squire
By Probus888.
[google-translator]
“Young Osgood. Good to see you. I have been sent a request for you to marry Ellessa, daughter of the Baroness of Alezeur. We have negotiated a very generous bride price and, with the difficulties facing my Kingdom, I have accepted. You are officially betrothed so that you will be setting out for Alezeur tomorrow.”
I was stunned, nay shocked. So many questions flooded my mind.
“But…, but…?” I stammered. “Where is Alezeur? I’ve never heard of it. And I don’t want to get married anyway,” I eventually managed to get out.
“Alezeur is a small country, maybe a hundred leagues or more away,” he told me.
I wasn’t surprised by this, as this part of Mid-World is divided and subdivided into hundreds and hundreds of petty Kingdoms, Duchies, Counties, Free Cities, and all other titles. Most of these countries are small, typically comprising a castle, a walled town, several villages and hamlets, and various fields, orchards, and pastures.
“But I don’t want to get married, Father. I was hoping to become a monk and join the Abbey. I am a good scribe and excellent illustrator. That’s what I have set my heart on,” I said.
Oswald IX looked at me and frowned. I’ve always been a disappointment to him. My oldest brother, Oswald X, would eventually become the next King and take over. My next brother, Oswulf, was with the High King’s armies battling Orc tribes far away in the mountains to the south, while my third brother, Oswiu, had married the daughter of a neighboring King and was busily fathering children on his lucky wife.
Which left me, the fourth son. I was so different from my brothers. They were all large men with blond hair, blue eyes, and muscular bodies. Not very bright but direct men of action. They like beer, weapons, hunting, riding, and women. At the same time, I am much slighter in build and prefer books, art, and my studies.
“Truly, I had hoped you could follow your desires and enter the Abbey of the Corn Goddess Ceres, but that is not to be, as I have given my word that you are going to marry Ellessa. Here is a picture of her.” With that, he passed across a miniature painting. She was a beautiful young woman with dark hair beneath a pearl net, straight brows above clear gray eyes, and a gently smiling mouth. The painting showed her to have a pale complexion.
She could have been worse, but when has an artist ever painted an unflattering portrait? In reality, she could look like a rock troll.
“Pack your bags as you’re leaving tomorrow. I will let you keep one man-at-arms as your companion and squire.”
And to ensure I did not flee on the journey, I thought. With that, my father stood, walked around the table, and hugged me close. He loved me, I think, in his own way, but never appreciated me.
I went to my chambers and packed some clothes and my favorite books, and my paints. There was nothing else I could do. And, to be honest, a part of me was looking forward to meeting this woman. I was twenty years old and still a timid virgin, a source of some ribaldry among my brothers.
The next day found myself shaken awake early and out in the cold cobbled castle courtyard before dawn’s rosy fingers had even reached the battlements. I was relieved to find that I was being escorted by a troop of twenty-one soldiers, together with a squire called O’Byrne. He was a broad-shouldered man with blond hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and blue eyes, dressed in ring mail and with an ax slung over his back. Mid-World has become increasingly dangerous over the years, with brigands infesting the woods, as well as wolf packs and other monsters.
O’Byrne helped me up onto my horse, a gray mare built for riding, before swinging up onto his own bay. The castle gates swung open and we clattered over the drawbridge, through the pretty thatched-roofed town of Bosworth, and crossed the river by the ford. By the end of the first day, we were deep into the forest, and by the end of the second, out of my father’s realm.
The journey, although uncomfortable, was peaceful as the brigands or any roving Orc bands would think twice before attacking such a large group of soldiers. Even the fall weather held good. Over a week later, we reached the banks of the Rhenthus where the ferryman took us over the broad, swirling river to a glade where several large white tents had been erected.
“This is where we will collect the bride price and leave you, Prince Osgood,” the Captain of the Guard told me. “Congratulations to you and your bride-to-be, and I hope things go well for you both.”
He led me over to the largest tent, outside of which stood a wagon. He swung down from his horse, and a sentry led him inside. A few minutes later, a tall soldier wearing a green uniform trimmed with yellow followed him out.
“Greetings, Prince Osgood. I am Captain Courantes of Alezeur, and we will escort you the rest of the way to Alezeur while your men return home with the dowry promised to your father.”
I glanced over to see that my men were hitching a team of mules to the wagon and making preparations for their return journey. Only squire O’Byrne was to go with me, as well as the Alezeurian bodyguards. I was sorry to see the Bosworth troopers go, but I was also looking forward to seeing Alezeur itself as well as my bride-to-be. I just hoped that her miniature did her justice.
As before, we had a safe journey through the forest. This side of the river, the woods seemed thicker, and in many places, the trees grew too close to the road, blocking the light and plunging the way into darkness. Once we passed a tower surrounded by a tall, thick thorn hedge, which looked impenetrable.
“Legend has it that a beautiful Princess lies in an enchanted sleep in yonder tower. She can only be awakened by a kiss from a handsome Prince,” Captain Courantes told me (*).
I looked up at this.
“Not you, sire,” he said with a grin. “Many have tried and all have failed.”
A couple of nights later, in camp, we heard wolves howling. Their howls sounded all too human, and our horses shuddered with fear.
“Not all wolves run on four legs,” Captain Courantes said as the guards threw more wood onto the fire.
I was glad when we reached Alezeur Town. In the golden evening sunshine, it was a picturesque place on a hill, enclosed by white walls. Tiers of red tiled houses rose to a small chateau at the summit. The royal building was a mass of towers festooned with pointed turrets and bartizans, giving it a dreamlike appearance. In the sloping fields around were vineyards, waving fields of barley and oats in a golden patchwork, apple orchards, as well as sheep folds. My initial impression was of a prosperous and contented place.
We clattered over a drawbridge and through the main gate and entered the town. As soon as the locals realized who we were, crowds started to gather and cheer us on, so we made slow progress through the winding cobbled streets to the chateau stables. I was so glad to finally swing down from my horse and hand over the reins to a groom. I yawned and stretched and breathed in the earthy scents of the stables. A young woman approached and curtseyed.
“Good evening, sire. I am Belinda. Let me take you to your chambers.” She was a buxom girl with blond hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and a spray of freckles across her nose. She wore a bustier over her low-cut blouse, which raised and emphasized her full, creamy breasts. I could make out her nipples pushing against the material. I felt myself stir, but thought she’d make an ideal mate for O’Byrne.
She led us to a suite of rooms in a low tower on the east side of the chateau. Refreshments and a bottle of wine had been set out, and hot water steamed in a couple of pails next to a stack of fluffy white towels. I was eager to meet my future wife, but I realized I would have to wait until the next day to do so. We slept well, but I must confess I jerked myself off several times in anticipation of our wedding night.
We had been given good rooms, and when I flung open the shutters on the following morning, mine overlooked neat terraced gardens. Even better, a breakfast of eggs with fresh white rolls and milk had been laid out for us, and after we had eaten, Belinda knocked.
“Are you ready, sire? You are to meet your intended as well as the rest of the court,” she said. As she spoke, I saw that she had eyes only for O’Byrne, who grinned back at her. Oh well, I thought, I will be getting the Baroness’s beautiful daughter instead.
We walked down several wood-paneled corridors, some lined with tapestries and others with polished suits of armor in the corners. She knocked on the door and showed us in. It was a spacious room, elegantly decorated with swags of material from the ceiling, which gave it a pavilion-like appearance and a feminine feel, and it was flooded with light from the oriel windows. Bouquets of roses filled vases in the corners, sweetly perfuming the chamber. However, it seemed to be full of women, most of them with sewing or embroidery in their laps. One, a tall, graceful lady of about forty, stood.
“Good morning, Prince Osgood, and welcome. I am Amoreira, Baroness of Alezeur, and this is my daughter, Ellessa.”
However, she addressed her greeting to O’Byrne, who grinned and bowed.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I am Prince Osgood,” I said.
Baroness Amoreira turned to me, and I saw a look of disappointment cross her face before she swiftly hid it.
“My apologies. We never received a picture of you. Bandits must have ambushed the courier bringing it.”
I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t recall sitting for an artist in recent memory. I wondered if my father wanted to keep my appearance from them.
Ellessa herself stood and dipped into a brief curtsey. Her portrait did not lie as she was a beautiful young woman of twenty summers. She had raven-black hair beneath a hairnet set with pearls, a pretty face with a sharp chin, cool gray eyes, and red lips. She wore a sky-blue dress embroidered with rose buds that showed her trim waist and the tops of her small, pert breasts to perfection. In her lap, she stroked a little black kitten.
Baroness Amoreira introduced several other women, but I could not remember all of them — there was Sienna, Amoreira’s eighteen-year-old daughter; the court physician, for some reason; and various cousins and other relatives. She then asked some questions about our journey and life in Bosworth until I started to relax. But then the atmosphere changed dramatically, and I sensed the women shifting forward with expectation.
Baroness Amoreira frowned. “I need to tell you a little about Alezeur. This Barony is a matriarchy. Succession is passed down through the female line, and only women can hold authority in this system. When Ellessa becomes Baroness, she will hold power, and your title will be Baron-Consort. Your duties will be to assist her and perform ceremonial duties only. And to father the next generation, of course.”
I glanced at O’Byrne, who was trying to suppress a smile.
However, Baroness Amoreira was still speaking. “We have a custom that before a royal marriage, we must ensure that the husband-to-be can adequately perform his duties.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I have been well-trained in formal occasions and etiquette. I have been educated in rhetoric, oratory, mathematics, and philosophy, and can speak Latin and a little Elvish. I am an excellent scribe and illustrator…” She waved her hand, cutting me off.
“Yes, yes, that’s important. But we must check that you are capable of fathering children, as we must ensure the survival of our dynasty.”
I blanched and looked over at O’Byrne, but he was no help as he was ogling Belinda’s chest.
“What do you mean? I’m sure I’ll be capable of my — ahem — husbandly duties,” I said. I hated how high-pitched and squeaky my voice sounded then.
“That’s what we will find out,” Baroness Amoreira said. She sounded implacable. “Take off your clothes and our Physician will do a brief medical examination to make sure everything is in working order.”
I looked at the women and saw they were all smiling, with the exception of Ellessa, who had crossed her arms over her chest and looked thoroughly disgruntled. Even O’Byrne had stopped leering at Belinda and was looking wide-eyed at Baroness Amoreira.
I plucked up my courage. “No, ma’am, I’m not doing that. I’m leaving,” I said as forcefully as I could. Baroness Amoreira signaled to two muscular female sentries standing by the door, and they crossed their spears, blocking my exit.
“Either you do as you are told and remove your clothing so you can be examined, or I will have my guards strip you.”
I looked over at O’Byrne, but he had taken a step or two away from me, distancing himself from my dilemma. I felt all the women staring at me avidly.
“Please, no,” I pleaded, but there was no mercy. At another gesture, the two sentries left their post and stepped forwards. I’m not some muscle-bound strongman like my brothers or O’Byrne, but I am slightly built. I would not be able to fight off those two brawny women, so I sighed, accepting the inevitable.
I unbuttoned my velvet doublet and then pulled my linen shirt off over my head. The cool fall air coming in from the open window made me shiver, and my nipples perked up. I crossed my arms over my chest. And I am ashamed to say that tears filled my eyes. I heard sighs and tuts of disappointment coming from the assembled women as they took in my narrow, concave, hairless chest and thin arms. Even O’Byrne’s lip curled with distaste.
“Doctor Aitana will examine you now,” Baroness Amoreira said.
The Physician, an older woman of about fifty with a matronly bosom but a stern face, stood. She took my pulse and listened to my heartbeat, pulled up my eyelids, and looked into my eyes. She had me cough and extend my scrawny arms. After a while, she announced that I was healthy and appeared to be free from any disease.
“However, in view of your concerns, ma’am, I would recommend that we check out his reproductive abilities,” Doctor Aitana said.
If possible, all the women edged forwards and were sitting on the edge of their seats, peering at me. The only one who did not seem impressed was Ellessa herself, who seemed royally pissed off.
“Of course, go ahead, please.”
The next words chilled me to the bone.
“Take off your breeches, please.”
I shook my head. “No, please. Not in front of everyone.”
O’Byrne looked at me. “Better do as she says. You can’t fight them all.” The contempt in his voice stung. It was obvious my squire was not going to help me in any way. Once again, the two muscular guards stepped forward. My hands hesitated over the breeches, but I stood there in shock and numb. I just couldn’t do it. I shivered with fear. The two strong women grabbed my arms and pinioned them to my sides. I didn’t even struggle but stood there trembling like a calf led to slaughter.
“Belinda,” Baroness Amoreira ordered.
The busty maid stepped forward and tugged my breeches down to my ankles. She lifted my legs one by one and pulled my breeches off, and tossed them away. Now I stood in only a skimpy linen loincloth. But even that meager protection was soon to be denied me as Belinda tugged it off me until I stood completely nude. As soon as the guards released my arms, my hands flew to cover my privates. But from the grins on the faces of Belinda and the two guards, the courtly women knew something was wrong.
“Take your hands away,” Baroness Amoreira snapped. “We need to see what you have got.”
Tears filled my eyes even as my face burned with mortification. I wished the Earth would swallow me whole as I dropped my hands to my side and hung my head with shame. There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Oh, it’s so cute.”
“Isn’t it petite?”
“But I can’t see it?” from an older lady.
“Is that it?”
But the worst, the one that was hardest to bear, was from Ellessa, my intended. “Eww, mom, I’m not having that useless thing anywhere near my coochie.” Even her kitten looked dismissive.
I looked down at my penis. It hung down limp, and in the cool fall air, it seemed even littler than usual. I know it’s smaller than average, measuring only two inches long and thin, with sparse pubic hair around the base. My testicles were equally undersized, being not much larger than acorns. But I’d never been with a woman. At twenty, I was still a virgin and wanted to enter a monastery, so my size had never mattered to me before. I glanced over at O’Byrne, who was desperately trying not to laugh out loud. Baroness Amoreira stood and took a closer look at my inadequate little dick.
“It’s not a shower, but it could be a grower?” she suggested. “Belinda, help Prince Osgood have an erection.”
The serving girl startled. “Ugh, please no. It’s horrible.”
“Do as you’re told, girl, unless you want to report to Cook and get your ass soundly paddled,” she was told.
Belinda shook her head. She plunged a hand down her bodice and pulled out her large, pale, creamy breasts. Her large nipples and areolas, which gently faded away, were a luscious pink and stuck out in the cool air. Yet such was my distress that there was no reaction in my cock, not even a twitch.
“Get on with it, girl,” Baroness Amoreira snapped.
Belinda knelt before me and opened her red lips, revealing even white teeth; her pink tongue licked her lips. She opened wider, and I felt her hot breath on my groin a moment before she took my cock into her mouth. Her well-trained tongue swirled around my glans while her lips gently slid up and down my shaft. Delightfully tingling sensations flooded my mind, and despite my mental suffering, my body couldn’t help responding. I felt my cock swell and thicken, but Belinda wasn’t gagging or choking on my length or girth. She carried on working away, her blond head bobbing up and down. Despite my embarrassment, I enjoyed the feelings coming from my groin, and my cock started to throb with expectation. She licked and lapped and sucked until I felt my cock trembling on the edge of climax.
Belinda stopped and rocked back on her heels, and scooted away so all the women could see my erection.
“It’s still a molehill and not a mountain,” Baroness Amoreira said above the noise of tittering women.
“Pathetic,” was Ellessa’s harsh comment.
“Maybe even a little cock might produce enough sperm to fertilize a woman, although I doubt it. Belinda, let’s see how much semen he can produce,” Baroness Amoreira ordered the still kneeling maid.
“Ugh,” was Belinda’s muttered comment. She got to her feet and took my already wilting appendage in hand, but a few strokes with her hand brought it to attention again.
“It looks like a worm,” she said as she carried on stroking.
I tried to hold back, not to give these women satisfaction, but my body responded to Belinda’s expert manipulations, and a white trickle of seminal fluid leaked out of my cock. I could have died with embarrassment at the tiny amount of white fluid that lay in her palm. It would have barely covered a copper farthing.
“Bring it over here,” Baroness Amoreira said.
The woman looked at the sticky residue with disgust.
“That will not make any woman fall pregnant,” said Baroness Amoreira, and Doctor Aitana concurred.
“Mom, I am not marrying that… that… useless man over there,” Ellessa said, pointing with disdain at my shivering nude form.
“No, I agree he is completely unsuitable. It seems King Oswald’s ambassador made a false representation. Unfortunately, we have agreed to the marriage and paid over the dowry, and at the moment we cannot afford to pay a second dowry for another husband.”
There was silence among the assembled women, and even O’Byrne seemed lost in thought. Then the oldest woman in the room, a grandmother well into her seventies, spoke up.
“Excuse me, Baroness, but there may be a solution?”
“Speak.”
“In my great-grandmother’s time, there was a similar situation. A marriage was contracted between the then Baroness and a man who turned out to be gay. The marriage proceeded, and he fulfilled all his courtly duties. Still, another man, a forester, I think, was substituted in the bedchamber to perform all the marital duties, and he fathered two healthy daughters.”
Baroness Amoreira looked interested. “What happened?”
“The populace never found out, and the secret was known to only a handful of women at court. After two children, unfortunately, there was a hunting accident out in the woods, and the man was by chance shot in the back by an arrow, leaving the Baroness free to marry again — even a commoner now that the succession was safe — and so she married the man who had taken care of her bedroom needs. And they lived happily ever after.”
All the women perked up at this story, and even Ellessa seemed happier.
“Thank you, Great-Aunt Judith. But we still have a problem. At such short notice, where can we find a real man who will take over in the bedchamber yet also keep our secret?” Baroness Amoreira mused.
There was a brief pause, then O’Byrne stepped forwards and coughed discreetly. “Ma’am, I would be most happy to help out there,” he said.
Several of the women clapped their hands in approval as I glared at my treacherous squire.
“Thank you,” Baroness Amoreira said with a smile on her lips. “If you would like to disrobe so that we can check out your — ahem — qualities as a stud, we would be grateful.”
Without hesitation, O’Byrne unbuckled his wide belt, then unlaced and pulled off his slashed doublet before shrugging off his white under tunic. The woman smiled, evidently relishing the sight of his manly physique. He had a powerful torso with well-defined pectorals and abdominal muscles, honed during years of weapon training and hunting. His biceps stood out prominently. Despite myself, I admired his toned body and wished I could have the same.
But the ladies’ appreciation was nothing compared with when he untied and pulled down his bark-colored breeches. He paused for a moment, drawing out the moment and heightening expectations before he whipped away his loincloth, dropping it onto the pile of clothing by his side. O’Byrne stood proud and confident with his hands behind his head, giving all the women an unobstructed view of his manhood. And it was worth seeing.
His cock hung down at least six inches and was heavy and sturdy. The thick shaft nestled in a mass of dark blond hair stretching down to a well-shaped glans. His testicles were equally mighty and seemed about the size of duck eggs. There were gasps and cries of amazement and admiration.
“That is more what a Prince should look like, Mom,” Ellessa said at last. “Manly and virile like a hero.”
My diminutive cock shriveled even more, like a snail hiding in its shell. I was so ashamed of my scrawny, weedy body compared with O’Byrne’s hard masculinity.
“We still need to check that he is capable of siring children, ma’am,” said Doctor Aitana, “Although I would be extremely surprised if that were not the case.”
Baroness Amoreira pointed to Belinda, who was still standing there, her breasts still on show, and pointed to O’Byrne’s penis. This time, with no reluctance but with an eager expression on her face, the maid knelt and took him in her mouth. Again, her blond head bobbed up and down as she kissed his tip with her pretty lips, then slowly kissed her way down the rigid shaft until she reached his base and her nose was nestled in his pubes. She then kissed around the sides, working her way to his ball sack, and as she kissed both testicles before swallowing him whole, but within a minute, she was gagging and choking. She reared back and coughed.
“He’s just too big, ma’am,” she said.
That was evidently the case. O’Byrne’s erection was prodigious, like a tree trunk rearing up from his groin. His glans was an angry purple, and pre-cum glistened on the end. Now his foreskin was rolled back. The watcher’s eyes were like saucers at the sight.
“That is good,” Doctor Aitana said at last. “But we now need to check his semen production. Belinda.”
The maid’s full breasts brushed against O’Byrne’s cock as she shifted position. Deliberately, I am sure. He moaned with pleasure at the touch. He moaned again when she took him in hand and ran her hand up and down his thick shaft, increasing the tempo as she did so. I knew what he was going through, but O’Byrne seemed to be enjoying it far more than I did. His face grimaced with pleasure. Another few strokes took him over the edge. With a dull grunt of release, he shot his load, and his semen splurged all over Belinda’s hand and onto the polished oak floor. And he still came in a torrential outrush.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said at last, although his satisfied smirk showed he was anything but.
Doctor Aitana inspected the sticky gloop covering Belinda’s palm. “I do not doubt that this hero will father very many healthy children.”
Belinda took a linen cloth and wiped both her hand and O’Byrne’s now limp but still huge penis clean. We started dressing again.
“We have decided,” Baroness Amoreira said at length to her daughter. “You will marry Prince Osgood as already arranged. He will act as Baron-Consort, but in the evenings, in the bedchamber, Squire O’Byrne will take over his duties.” She glared at me. “My mind is made up on this matter. However, this will be a state secret, and no word of this arrangement must leave this room on pain of death. Is that understood?” The Baroness glowered at everyone in the room until we had all nodded agreement.
Now that we were free to go, I dressed and went into the library, where I sat in the privacy of that room and wept bitter tears of frustration and rage. I could not bear to see or speak to O’Byrne. I understand he went into the gardens and practiced archery in front of an admiring group of women.
***
I had no time to plan an escape as the wedding was scheduled for two days hence. Two female guards followed me, and when I went to the library or any other place, they stood outside the room. Also, I did not see my bride-to-be, although I knew that O’Byrne had met her several times. The chateau filled up with guests, and in the town below, beyond the chateau walls, I heard the revelry start. I felt so nervous and on edge, yet also benumbed and petrified. I felt like a lamb to the slaughter instead of an eager bridegroom. If I could have thought of a way out, I would have taken it, but my mind kept running fruitlessly in circles. I was trapped within this walled chateau in a walled city, closely guarded.
The day of the wedding finally dawned. Belinda and a couple of other maids filled a tub with hot water and asked me to wash and dress in my wedding outfit. From their giggles, I guess that Belinda had told the others about my midget dick. That said, I was glad that they left me to it, but when they filled another tub for O’Byrne in the next room, I heard them laughing, and from the splashing, I think that they were happily helping him with his bath.
Drying myself off, I put on my wedding outfit, a blue slashed doublet embroidered with green and gold leaves, that showed my white linen tunic beneath, white breeches, and soft boots. A silver belt finished off my attire. Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I have to say I looked smart, but I was so disappointed with my narrow physique and wished I had taken after my brothers and O’Byrne. A knock on the door broke my reverie, and two guards took me down to the courtyard, where an open carriage was waiting, pulled by four white horses with ostrich plumes on their heads. The teamster bowed respectfully as he helped me into the carriage, and O’Byrne followed after me. An escort of mounted troops preceded and followed us.
After we crossed the drawbridge into town, we passed through crowds of cheering peasants and yeomen. Others leaned out from overhanging upper-floor windows. The jolly noise rolled through the streets like a tidal wave of sound crashing all around. I was still dazed by what was happening and couldn’t think of any way out, but I still managed to wave mechanically and keep a rictus grin fixed on my face. However, even I noticed that much of the crowd seemed to think O’Byrne was Ellessa’s intended and threw flowers into the carriage at him. He was loving the attention and waved enthusiastically back. Through the crowds moved hawkers selling pies and pastries, an innkeeper had set up barrels of ale, and the mouthwatering smells of hot food and drink filled the air. Once I glanced up and saw a buzzard soaring high above and wished I were up there in the air instead of down here being led, I thought, to my doom.
At the other end of Alezeur town stood the Temple of Ceres with its high pillars and portico. Our carriage drew up, and we dismounted, and O’Byrne gripped me by the elbow and led me up the aisle to the high altar, which was festooned with wheat sheaves; the symbol of the Corn Goddess herself. The place of worship was full to bursting with dignitaries. There were the Kings and Queens of neighboring lands, Dukes and Duchesses, Counts, Countesses, and viscounts, as well as lesser nobles beyond counting, ambassadors, and the great and the good from all around, all wearing their finest finery. O’Byrne and I walked up to the altar, and I tried to control my trembling. “NO!” I wanted to scream before running away, but the sentries at the entrance made that impossible.
A fanfare of trumpets announced Ellessa’s arrival. She looked so beautiful in a snowy white dress, yet she hardly glanced at me during the ceremony. I mumbled all the correct responses, and a narrow coronet was placed on my head (and swiftly removed immediately after the service). And then it was over. I was married and wished I could be anywhere else than here.
On our journey back to the chateau, the crowds were even thicker than before. However, they seemed bemused that it was I, not O’Byrne, in the coach with Ellessa.
The wedding feast was a nightmare. I sat at the top table in the Great Hall, but Ellessa and O’Byrne had eyes only for each other. I cannot fault the banquet; the chefs had surpassed themselves, as the food was magnificent, with endless courses starting with oysters, moving onto savory starters and entrées, freshly caught fish, before the main courses appeared, including roast swan, and continuing onto rich, sugary trifles, before ending on a magnificent cheeseboard. Troubadours, tumblers, jugglers, and acrobats entertained us while minstrels played soft music from an upper gallery. Yet such was my unhappiness at what had been decided that I could not appreciate the entertainment or savor the food. The feast passed well, and I made a short, stumbling speech about how glad I was to become Baron-Consort of this great land.
Eventually, the Chamberlain of Alezeur rapped a knife against a wine glass until the hubbub of conversation died away. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it has been a long day, and I am sure that the young couple is tired and needs their rest.”
There was some ribald laughter and cheering from several men, but they quickly calmed down. On trembling legs, I stood and held out my hand to my beautiful wife, who took it without glancing at me. We left the din of the Great Hall, and the Chamberlain escorted us to the North Wing. He opened the door to a bedchamber, bowed, and showed us in before closing the door behind us, leaving us alone together. In the center was a huge four-poster bed, with the velvet drapes drawn back and the white bedding turned down invitingly, scattered with rose petals. Scented candles gently lit the room.
For a moment, I hoped that she had relented, but Ellessa looked at me with scorn and then crossed to a wooden panel on the wall and rapped thrice. The panel swung open, revealing a secret passage, and O’Byrne stepped out. The only thing he was wearing was a huge grin on his face. O’Byrne was completely naked, and his huge oak-hard cock jutted out like the prow of a Norseman’s longship. Precum glistened on his tip. I took in his hard, muscular physique and knew I could never hope to match him. He brushed back his long blond hair.
“I’ve been looking forward to this moment ever since I saw you,” he growled.
“So have I. You’re twice, thrice the man that this — thing — could ever be,” she said, pointing at me. As she spoke, her hands began to remove her gown. Within minutes, she, too, was nude. Ellessa was very beautiful in a sort of ice-maiden way with a slim build, pale alabaster skin, and small, high breasts tipped with rosy nipples. Looking down over her flat belly with the dimple of her lovely navel, I looked at the triangle between her long legs and a neatly trimmed strip of dark pubic hair.
Ellessa stepped forwards and took both of O’Byrne’s hands in hers. She lifted her face and pursed her lips. O’Byrne leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. After a long while, they broke for air.
“It is such a shame you are not of royal blood,” Ellessa said at last.
“Oh, but I am,” O’Byrne said with a smile. “I’m the illegitimate son of King Oswald IX. My mother was one of the Queen’s maids, and she told me that Oswald used to come to her at night.”
I should have realized sooner. That would explain the similarity between that bastard and my brothers. A surge of hatred for that man swept through me. If I’d had a dagger, I would have stabbed him through the heart.
I coughed. “If I’m not needed here anymore, I’ll see myself out.”
Ellessa turned to me, and her lip curled with disdain. “We cannot have anyone seeing you walking about the chateau. No, you can stay here and watch. Maybe you’ll learn something from how a real man does it.”
My face burned with shame. With that, O’Byrne led Ellessa to the bed. They kissed again, slowly and passionately, his hands roaming over her back and butt, caressing her cheeks. They stepped backwards and collapsed onto the bed in a burst of giggles.
Ellessa looked at me again. “If you’re watching, you might as well jerk yourself off if you want.”
That was kind of her.
“Have fun, little man,” sneered O’Byrne.
They ignored me as O’Byrne mounted on top of Ellessa. She spread her legs wide with her knees in the air. I saw all of her dewy pink slit, whose delights would be forever denied me.
“Fuck me, fuck me hard,” her pretty mouth demanded. “I want to get my virginity over with.”
Despite myself, I found myself pushing down my breeches and pulling out my tiny wiener. Taking it between my thumb and first two fingers, I began rubbing them up and down its shaft while exciting feelings filled me.
Meanwhile, on the bed, their bodies gently illuminated by wax candles, O’Byrne piled into my new wife. His hands gripped hers, holding her arms above her head while the battering ram of his massive cock breached her labia and penetrated her defenses. Not that she was defending herself, but her special place was welcoming his assault. His muscled buttocks drove up and down.
Ellessa screamed with mixed shock and pain and sheer carnal lust, and I knew her maidenhead had been broken and now she was truly a wife and not a virgin. O’Byrne carried on his pounding, and this was pure animal fucking with no tenderness. My fingers and thumb worked faster and faster, and even my little man grew slightly bigger and stiffer. O’Byrne went faster and faster, grunting furiously with each stroke until his pent-up reserves broke and a torrent of milky white jizz shot up into Ellessa’s love hole and towards her welcoming womb. He grunted fiercely one last time with the intensity of his release, yet carried on for another few strokes until Ellessa herself shrieked and her legs went into a fit of tremors.
A few more tugs on my little pipe, and then I came, and a little trickle of white fluid leaked out of my sensitive tip before I shrank back to the size of a worm again. I sat down on a nearby stool while O’Byrne and Ellessa cuddled each other close, hugging each other for warmth and rest. I could not help but notice a puddle of their fluids leaking onto the sheets; a mixture of his semen, her secretions, mixed with a little blood from the breaking of her hymen.
Yet in my position, I had such a mix of emotions swirling through my mind. Anger and resentment towards them both, frustration that I wasn’t in the bed next to my new wife, hatred of O’Byrne, who had usurped my place, and humiliation at being so cuckolded. All mixed in with furtive lustfulness at having witnessed them fucking like rabbits in a sack.
“Hey, little man, fetch us some wine, will you?” O’Byrne propped himself on one elbow and glared at me. I poured two glasses and brought them over, my small soldier flopping limply.
Ellessa pointed at it. “There’s no way I would ever have let that bitty little thing take my virginity. I don’t think it could.”
My face burned red. I poured them a second glass apiece, and that seemed to get them in the mood for more loving. They kissed, hugged, and stroked each other, and Ellessa’s hand found O’Byrne’s mighty warrior. She smiled tenderly as she took him in hand and stroked him back into rock-hard stiffness. O’Byrne grinned at me like the cat that had gotten the cream, which he had.
He flipped Ellessa over until she was lying on her front and raised her ass in the air, giving a brief but clear view of her juicy, puffy labia with their juices smeared around them and the tops of her willing thighs. O’Byrne got onto his knees behind her, slapped her rump once, which made her squeal with mixed pain and pleasure, before he speared his way deep into her warm, welcoming pussy.
“Give me a baby! Give me a baby!” she called as O’Byrne gripped her hips and pounded away behind her. I heard his heavy, meaty balls slapping against her and knew that my undersized ones would never make that sound against her willing flesh. All I could do was tug my own little member furiously in time with their fucking until, with strangely sick pleasure, a few more drops of my own jizz seeped out. O’Byrne grunted out with relief just as Ellessa yowled like a cat at her climax, and then they both collapsed in a sweaty heap onto the sodden sheets.
Later, as the candles started guttering, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, and I found a few cushions and stretched out on the cold floor to get what sleep I could. I was almost asleep when a thought hit me, which shocked me into terrified wakefulness and left me cowering piteously until dawn. It was that one throwaway line during my nude inspection a few days before. Something about the husband having a hunting accident, leaving her free to marry a commoner. Once an heir was born, was that to be my fate? Another hunting accident, poison, or maybe falling from a tower? I didn’t think my future would be too pleasant…
The End.
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