Chapter 2

I, James of Colchester must now explain in some detail how the purchase of the two hairbrushes led to my comradeship with the unique Friar Harold.

My relationship with Maid Jane prospered after I introduced her to the hairbrushes in a public display of firm control over female disposition. As I previously told you, this young girl was unusually conversant with complicated use of words in the King’s English. I found that strange for this part of the kingdom and wondered what her back story was to constitute this paradox.

Regardless, I took the opportunity of the girl’s compliant attitude to poke her relentlessly with my friendly weapon on many occasions. I listened to her pants of female emotion rising in tempo and pitch until she reached that sought after “tingle” that all pretty young things aspire to providing they are not in a convent. My hairbrush training stood us in good stead because it insured her continued docility even when she was lathered up with a contrary point of view. I know it was quite unfair of me and I felt some remorse at treating her with such a cavalier attitude but she seemed to be attuned to it like it was the magnet of her lust and feminine need for male guidance and control in such matters.

My dalliance with older women was still in full bloom and my ardor unabated around widows and old maids with needs that surpassed the tender thoughts of virginal beginners. I had met Friar Harold at the same market stall where I purchased the hairbrushes and he was making a similar purchase of his own for the exact same items. It was a cold and snowy day and the urchins were cavorting on the suddenly white covered streets with unabated glee. We looked at each other and laughed because it was obvious we were not buying the objects for the purpose of brushing long tresses.

Friar Harold was a corpulent fellow but his bulk was more muscle than fat and he had a sharp way about him that did little to disguise his ability to react quickly to any physical stress no matter how disconcerting. He reminded me of a foreign entertainer in the fair that visited every year that was sturdy and despite his rotund shape was able to walk the narrowest of rope across the tent high above the ground and without any net underneath to break his fall in case there was a mishap.

He invited me to witness his application of proper “penance” to some young students that had confessed to sins against the basic commandments given to us by the almighty to insure proper behavior of all concerned made in the likeness of the creator of the universe.

I never did understand that “made in the image” thing because we humans were all so different, both physically and mentally in every way possible. The sight of the variety of youthful bums raised in silent obedience to his instructions was one that I would never forget. I saw a few that looked succulent indeed and to this day do not know to which gender they belonged. Perhaps that was the reason for their appeal. The mystery of not knowing was catnip to the endeavor.

The sight of the barrel-chested Friar in his brown robes swatting those soft defenseless heart-shaped targets with such energy and enthusiasm was stimulating to me and I sported a huge stiffening in my lower regions. I thought the good Friar was influenced by my indelicate arousal to invite me to join him in completing the exercise by “making the rounds” of entering each rear portal in turn with little thought to the submissive students level of composure. I hoped most of them were female because I was not one of those jokers that made a habit of pestering my own gender for posterior pleasures. The length of their hair was not a conclusive clue because most of the boys in those days had hair longer than the girls of the same age. It was an interesting experiment, to say the least, and I managed to sample the entire group of about twenty without faltering mid-stream.

It was our joint travel to the side of the Duchess and her pretty maid Jane that sealed our friendship with a firm stroke of brotherhood. I had no doubt that the Duchess was much inspired by the corpulent Friar to confess her sins and accept her “penance”. Jane and I watched the heated woman on her knees atoning for her sins and it drove us to immediate copulation without any indication of shyness right in front of our happy humping friends. The four of us were doing a dance of lust for the better part of an hour’s passage when the Friar let out a bellow similar to a bull on field with a red cape in front of him as his target. The poor Duchess wailed and quaked as he assailed her relentlessly as he aided her on the rocky road to redemption. She was truly contrite as her juices sprayed the pews and well-worn stones underneath. I feared for Friar Harold’s health because his face was red with the passion of a man driven to the edge of pressured blood. He drove the Duchess into the base of the statue of Saint Peter with his terrible hard peter of justice. The Duchess wilted like a week-old rose and I assumed she took his flood with her customary good grace hoping he might be sturdy enough for a second helping.

My own dear jewel, the lovely Jane was already spiraling down into her final orgasm and I paused inside just to observe her motions beneath me slowly crawling forward under my weight on all fours like a human crab, submissive and compliant to my every demand. I scooped her long tresses up in my fist and pulled her pretty head up high so I could see into her beautiful eyes the lust that lurked so deep in my soul like a mirror image of her sensuous nature.

Maid Jane and I finished at the same time as the Friar and the Duchess and we all rested with panting breath squatted down on our haunches like human animals pushed to the limits of their endurance. All four of us showed evidence of our coupling with tell-tale white puddles of cream at the end of our dicks and right in the center of full-bushed feminine folds. Jane made haste to deliver repairs to her mistress’s dignity by cleaning her with her dutiful tongue. Her pretty bum was shaking with the exertion of her efforts between the Duchess’s knees. I saw Friar Harold rise to his feet and turn his newly formed erection straight into the Duchess’s cherry red mouth. She took it inside with little difficulty and he groaned in appreciation at her skills.