The Gauntlet Thrown - Lord Bent's Manor Vol. 2
Copyright© 2025 by Commissum
Chapter 2
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The second novel in the world of Lord Peter Bentencourt, an earth born magic user now living on the magical world of Kreven. Volume two continues after the events of the first novel, Fire and Ice. Beware, the ethics of Kreven are unlike those of Earth. Also, book one has a map of the Mirror Lake region.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mind Control Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Magic non-anthro DomSub Spanking Group Sex Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Squirting Hairy Size
Ten minutes before noon Peter was out in the manor courtyard waiting for the arrival of the mohennial. He stood near the top of the curving stairway leading from the courtyard up to the manor’s main entry and took in the day. The sun was shining and the early spring day was already warm. Miranda and his former ward, the half-human, half-dark-elf woman, Tevi, stood waiting with him while Bella and Hamm, the married villain couple whom he employed as his housekeeper and foreman, were sitting nearby on one of the courtyard’s many stone benches eating a picnic lunch.
The island’s other four residents were absent. Bemi was still sleeping in his study where he’d drained her. Jaciee, Hamm and Bella’s teenaged daughter, was most likely at their cottage doing her daily chores. The last two, his mountain troll, Klup, and the new slave, Reed, were busy by the workshop. From the faint-but-rhythmic sounds of an active pit saw, the two were busy sawing logs into lumber. Peter was amazed at the rapid pace of the saw. Even with the she-troll’s advancing pregnancy, Klup was still able to outwork most men.
Suddenly he heard a crackling sound and looked up to see a dark portal appear on the courtyard in front of him. Peter felt the hair on his arms rise from the static-like sensation of the powerful magic release and motioned Tevi and Miranda to step back. The circular portal grew and morphed into a doorway. He’d been expecting Mohennial Sala but instead a dangerous-looking female battle wizard stepped through.
The woman was tall, nearly his height, and was wearing a full leather warded face mask and helmet which left only her dark eyes and mouth area exposed. She was also solidly built with corded, lean muscles visible under a tightly fitted, reinforced, black leather bodysuit. Shoulder-length red hair was visible where it escaped the helmet’s fringes.
The battle wizard swiveled in place, taking in her surroundings. Peter noted that she was armed with a short heavy trident spear that was powered by a large, pulsating crystal. She swept the trident ahead of her as she turned, assessing the others of his party and surveying the surrounding area. Finally, after determining that there was no immediate danger, the woman climbed the steps toward Peter.
“Lord Bent, it’s been a very long time. Nice place you have here.”
Peter thought he recognized the voice. He looked closer, trying to see the woman behind the mask.
“Lady Constance? Is it really you?” he asked skeptically. This woman appeared to be much younger than the woman he’d remembered.
“In the flesh,” the battle wizard replied, smiling. “Although it’s also Commander Constance now. I’m surprised you remember me. It’s been more than, what, eighty years?”
“Eighty-six,” he replied. “I’d heard you’d retired decades ago?”
“I had, but my retirement died the same moment I did,” she confirmed with more than a little bitterness.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” she continued with a sigh. “I’d completed my third twenty-year hitch with the Order and had earned a happy and well-funded retirement,” she explained. “Then, just as I was about to move into my newly-finished manor house, I get killed by being thrown from a fucking horse!”
Peter winced in sympathy. “You were resurrected of course?”
“Of course, I was!” she answered exasperated. “But not before my corpse had been mostly eaten by the same Kraglion that had spooked my horse!”
She took a deep breath and calmed down. “Yes, I retained the Order resurrection policy into my retirement. But apparently, being retired meant I was now a very low priority case. The Order witches were in no rush to trigger the retrieval spell.”
That explained Constance’s much younger and fitter body. She’d had to wait to be resurrected until a new replacement body could be quickened from the salvaged remains of her corpse. The delay had probably explained why he had not heard mention of her name in the many decades since her retirement.
“And then, when I’m finally brought out of stasis,” she continued, again sounding bitter, “I find I’m now bankrupt from the added regrowth charges. I had to sell all my holdings and sign up for active duty with the Order again.”
“Gods, Commander!” he said with sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How long are you on the hook for?”
“Only another double, double hitch.”
“Another eighty years!” he exclaimed.
“Well, it’s not too bad,” she explained. “They did give me a raise and let me reenlist as a full high wizard. And, truth to tell, up until my death, retirement had not been all that I’d expected it to be.”
“And you’re here today because the Order assigned you to work with the Mohennial?” he asked.
“Not quite,” she replied with a strange expression.
She stepped closer and spoke much more softly so the others standing further away could not overhear. “I’m technically on temporary detachment from the Order and working a private mercenary contract for Mistress Sala.”
Now this was interesting! Why would Sala be funding this endeavor herself? She had the authority to requisition from the Order any forces needed at no cost to herself.
“Did she tell you why she hired you privately and not simply requisition support?” he asked, also in a whisper.
“Yes,” Constance admitted while shaking her head. “But I’m not sure how much I am free to share with you. You’ll have to ask the Mohennial yourself when we see her. All I will tell you is that part of the reason she selected me is because, nearly a decade ago, I was stationed at Anodynen Keep in the Frozen North.”
Peter had heard of the remote keep in the past but had never learned details beyond its name. He did recall that when it was spoken of, it was usually part of a curse or of a threat to be sent there.
“I’ve heard of the place but always assumed it was just a cold weather training area,” he commented.
“It is used for cold-weather training, but the Keep’s main purpose was to verify the Final Agreement pact with the cryo-dragons was maintained,” Constance explained. “Or is maintained, as I guess the pact is still in effect. The time I spent there makes me as much of an expert in the region as anyone, I suppose.”
“Final Agreement?” Peter asked.
He’d never heard of an agreement with the dragons and until very recently, had thought the species extinct. He’d read reports stating as much, but apparently, those were falsehoods, lies promoted by the Order itself. His question caused the Commander to scowl.
“Sorry,” Constance corrected. “I’ve clearly revealed too much about secrets that I am not free to share. Again, you’ll have to ask Mohennial Sala ... or, learn many of the answers on your own if we survive the next few days.”
“The Mohennial’s missive said she was coming here. Are we waiting for her?”
“No, there’s been a change of plans,” Commander Constance explained. “I was sent to fetch you and we will travel to meet Mistress Sala. I also have a message for your ward, a female half-dark-elf archer.”
Constance then turned and gestured to Tevi who reacted with surprise. “I assume that is you?”
“Tevi is my former ward,” Peter corrected before Tevi could respond. “She now works as a woman-at-arms for me as a free person. What does Sala want with her?”
Commander Constance ignored his question for the moment, instead gesturing towards the young half-elf to approach quickly.
Tevi jogged down, looking at Peter nervously before facing the battle wizard. “Yes ... ma’am?”
“I am Commander Constance. I’ve been instructed by the mohennial Sala to extend you an offer.”
“Tevi, you don’t—”
“Please remain silent, Lord Bent,” Constance interjected with a serious look.
Peter clenched his jaw but did as the Commander instructed.
“Freewoman Tevi,” Constance stated formally, emphasizing the first part. “The Mohennial Sala would like to hire you to accompany us on our little expedition today. You would serve as our archer to provide ranged overwatch for the party ... the party which includes your Lord Bent, I should add. In exchange for these services, the Mohennial offers payment of a thousand standard gold.”
“Tevi,” Peter interrupted, ignoring Constance’s glare and pushing forward to stand between them. “The money’s not worth the risk. You could die instantly to some cryo-dragon trap before I or the Mohennial could even begin to react.”
“In addition,” the commander continued as if Peter had not spoken. “Mohennial Sala will provide full resurrection protective services to you for the duration of the expedition. Furthermore, once this coverage is in place, she will continue to pay for the service for an additional full year after our return.”
Peter was stunned! Sala would have known that, as a half-dark-elf, Tevi had enough latent magic for the resurrection spells to work. It was one hell of an incentive, with the total cost exceeding the original gold payment value by at least three times. It would also protect the young woman in the near future from accident or mayhem, including the distinct possibility of a vengeful cryo-dragon following them back from this expedition if it should go poorly.
Peter grudgingly nodded. “Now, that’s a very good offer, Tevi. But consider that dying could be extremely painful. Or if you die as the result of certain magical attacks, the resurrection could fail. And even if you die the right way, if your body was not recovered intact, you could be held in stasis for a decade or more until a new one was grown. I’ve heard stasis is ... disconcerting.
He glanced at Commander Constance as he’d said that and caught her uncontrolled shudder. The tough-looking woman met his eyes with an expression that indicated that Peter was correct but that he had no idea of just how disconcerting dying was.
Tevi looked overwhelmed. “I ... I’m not sure what to do, Commander. May I consult with Lord Bent’s executive assistant in private for a moment?”
Constance nodded and the lean, dark-skinned half-elf trotted back to where Miranda now stood watching with Bella and Hamm. Peter was momentarily hurt that she sought out Miranda’s advice instead of his own, but then he realized that Miranda would offer fair and sound advice from the perspective of one lacking his own ... substantial resources.
While they waited, he turned back to Constance and quietly asked, “If this adventure is so risky, what about me?”
Constance snorted. “Don’t you already maintain a resurrection contract of your own?”
Peter kept a straight face, revealing nothing, but Commander Constance smiled regardless and nodded.
“I thought so,” she continued. “You’ll have to work out any additional perks and recompense with the Mohennial yourself. She left me no instructions regarding you except that you would be returning with me.”
Peter caught the emphasis Constance placed on the word would. As he’d feared, along with his new, closer association with Mohennial Sala came obligations. He would have to find a way to quantify those obligations and seek to impose limits if any were too unreasonable. Or, at the very least, ensure that he was rewarded as befitting the additional risks he was to face.
Tevi came trotting back. Peter could tell from her excited look what the half-elf had decided.
“I agree to join your party, Commander,” she said breathlessly. “What do I need to bring? My bow?”
“No, the Mohennial will arm you when we join up with her,” Commander Constance explained. “But please do fetch your heaviest cold-weather clothing. What Mistress Sala has available would likely not properly fit your slender frame.”
Tevi ran off again, this time heading around the Manor towards the rear kitchen entry and the mudroom where she kept her outdoor gear.
“How long do you expect us to be gone?” Peter asked Constance.
“Mohennial Sala hopes to see our business concluded before nightfall,” the Commander replied. “Although, it would be prudent to let your staff know that your return could be delayed ... possibly for some time.”
Peter grimly nodded and went to inform Miranda and the others. Halfway to the group, he held up and motioned his XO to approach, deciding to speak to her privately. He soberly relayed what he had learned from the Commander. He reminded his XO that, if he did not return before nightfall, to continue managing the island as usual. With his unpredictable lifestyle, he and Miranda had already prepared contingencies that would go into effect if he went missing for various extended time periods.
These plans involved the general care of the manor, the wellbeing of his villeins and staff, and any ongoing business interests in the short term. If he was gone for more than a year, and with no indications of his return, Miranda was to invoke more extreme contingencies involving selling off his possessions, this island, and seeing to the provisioning, dismissal, and relocation of the staff.
He then motioned to Hamm and Bella after giving his XO a hug goodbye.
The burly villein led his wife over and said cheerfully, “Be safe, Milord!”
“You too, Hamm,” Peter replied, placing both hands on Hamm’s shoulders. “Keep your family and the island safe while I am gone.”
Hamm, surprised at the intimate contact with his lord, simply nodded.
Peter also surprised Bella by giving her a quick hug before returning to where Constance stood waiting near the still-active portal.
“Your staff seem to care for you a great deal, Lord Bent.”
“They are more family to me than just staff.”
Her expression was bemused. “Is that wise?”
“Probably not,” he replied. “But it is what it is.”
“You’ve grown soft, Lord Bent,” Constance commented more quietly.
She then looked him up and down before focusing on his groin hidden under his cinched cloak.
“I hope other notable parts of you have not also grown so soft?” she whispered with a smirk.
“No complaints so far about that department, Constance,” he replied with a wry smile.
“Good,” she continued lasciviously. “You were a... more than an average partner back when we shared a bedroll. Your stature was ... renowned, as I recall.”
That’s right! Peter remembered. He had bedded Constance when he’d been a much younger man. Back then, he’d been far more foolish and had lacked confidence in both his body and its performance. In a misguided attempt to solve both issues, he’d spent most of his signing bonus to have a greedy healer witch make his cock larger. Too large, as he soon learned the first time he’d found a willing partner to use it on.
“Ah ... yes,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Well, as you may recall, that proved to have been a mistake. I was young and foolish, and I apologize for any pain I may have subjected you to.”
“It had been a very memorable encounter,” she agreed ruefully.
“Well, I soon realized my folly,” Peter explained, looking even more embarrassed. “A few years after our encounter, and after saving enough money, I found a far-more-skilled healing witch who was able to reverse much of the growth the first had cursed me with. I’m much closer to normal-sized now.”
“Awe ... that’s too bad,” Commander Constance said poutingly with another quick glance downward as if seeking to verify his statement. “You no longer seek to make the average stallion jealous then?”
“Not quite ... although I made sure that I was left with a little extra,” he replied with a grin. “Smaller stallions might still have something to worry about.”
Constance’s eyebrows rose as she laughed. “Well, in that case, I would not be opposed to a rematch if we get delayed and have to share a bedroll.”
“Or even if we did not get delayed?” Peter asked with a smirk. He would not be opposed to a rematch either, especially with Constance, now with a body barely past two decades. She’d been a great teacher for him nearly a century ago when they’d tussled, full of passion that befitted her fiery red hair. He smiled at her and considered how to reply.
Their flirting was interrupted by Tevi, who came jogging back from the rear of the Manor. Because of the warm day, she was simply carrying her hooded coat bundled under one arm but was wearing her winter boots and fur-covered leggings. She also wore a belt with her sheathed Bowie-style hunting knife.
Peter smiled as he spotted the weapon. He recalled the young woman’s joy when he’d presented her with the Earth-made knife upon releasing her from her wardship and making her a free tenant. It had been a pain in the ass to bring the fine steel knife blank back through the portal from Earth, and then, costly and time-consuming to have a local weaponsmith add the custom grip and hilt, but Tevi’s pride every time he saw her wielding it continued to pay back dividends for the gesture.
“All ready?” he asked the young woman.
“Yes, Master,” she replied excitedly. “As ready as I will ever be.”
“Let’s get going then,” Commander Constance ordered. “Peter, you go through first, then you, Tevi. I’ll follow you both and close the portal.”
Peter nodded at Tevi, who grinned and nodded back. Oh, the enthusiasm of the young, he thought wistfully. He faced the portal and stepped one leg through, again surprised at the lack of fatigue the action caused as compared to crossing his own portals. Maybe he could convince the Mohennial to share a few of her portal secrets with him as compensation for the risks he was taking? He kept walking, and as his trailing leg passed the threshold, he felt himself transported elsewhere.