Bonnie Princess Charlene
Copyright© 2026 by Omachuck
Chapter 11: Cortez
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 11: Cortez - In Lazlo Zalezac’s Damsels in Distress Universe, Damsel Charlene Stewardess escapes from her captors and runs to a forge seeking help. Her two pursuers kill the village’s smith but are also killed. The smith’s wife and the Damsel use a grisly method to hide the bodies and then flee to the rumored safety of a warlord named Hastert. This stand-alone story will read better if you’ve read 'Pēteris' and 'Monica Mechanic'. The eleven chapter story is complete and will post Fridays and Sundays.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fa/ft Consensual BiSexual Alternate History Polygamy/Polyamory First Oral Sex Violence
Earning the trust of Maria Elena’s uncle was more important than having an ear to give Banker Percival. Anyone could wear a ring. Many could throw a knife. One could prove he was the son of Juan Luis Renaldo. None of that mattered if he couldn’t – wouldn’t – fight a bull in the arena.
Some tendays later, Julio returned to the bank with two ears and a tail, more than the minimum required. Maria Elena was still his shadow, but he had her wait in the lobby while he met with Percival.
“As you know, I’m not familiar with local rules and customs,” he stated. Then he asked, “If I make Maria Elena joint owner of my accounts, will she automatically inherit upon my death? Will that be true if I were murdered, or would my killer be able to seize my accounts?”
When assured she would become the sole owner, Julio returned to the lobby and almost dragged his bewildered companion into Percival’s office to place her finger in the indicated hole. “You are now my secret, hidden partner. Only your uncle is to know – and not another soul.”
When she began to shed tears, he told her, “When I have a son, you will be joint heirs, and you will partner with him as you now do with me. There will be much for you to teach, if I am not around – for whatever reason.”
When she sniffled and dried her eyes by lifting her tunic, Julio took her hand and led her into the chamber of boxes where she watched his box appear in ever-expanding wonder.
Julio was eager to open the new box that his father had required him to earn and found the box was almost triple the size of his initial box. In it was considerable wealth in purses – ‘why not deposits in the bank,’ he wondered. For this matador, the true wealth was in a satchel containing ancient and new books – diaries Julio learned as he carefully thumbed through the first.
He began to read aloud so Maria Elena could share. “Soy Diego Rodríguez, and I find myself in this strange land, without Christians nor Jews nor Moors. I think I am grateful to mi patron Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar for bringing me here as his squire. If we live, I hope to become a ‘Hero’ as they name him in that strange place called Crossroads. Hoy es 17 de junio de 1095. I begin this journal to remember those things I need to survive and prosper as I serve mi patron...”
Julio had never researched his ancestors. He knew of his father and grandfathers, but here was evidence that he might be descended from a squire of El Cid, and that famous warrior was himself a ‘Hero’ who ventured in Chaos. For now, he decided to take this first of almost forty journals, but to read them all as he could.
For present needs, he removed a leather satchel containing a complete matador’s outfit, including a gold-threaded satin chaquetilla, silver-threaded calzoncillos, large blue muleta, and a smaller blood-red capote. He was amazed that his father’s jacket and pants appeared as if they would fit as if tailored to him. He carefully refolded his new fighting wardrobe, and placed it back in its satchel. Then he looked among the weapons and other survival-related items. It was time to prepare his lure.
Having established himself as heir to the arena where his father had fought his bulls and challenged others to fight as well, the need for the purses came to him – they were for the huge bets he would place on himself or against those who wished to fight the bulls. The larger the purse, the more likely it would tempt the ‘owner’ of a cock burner to accept a wager in which she was a part of the bet.
And now, Maria Elena when she was trained and ready, there would be bets against la saltadora. She would become the appetizer before the main event, but positioned to sweep up bets from those who had saved some money for final bets against him and from those unable to bet the minimum five conchs.
Word had spread that a new man was training to fight bulls in the arena and would offer huge bets on himself against anyone who wished to bet on the bull. There was a frenzy to bet, and because of the rumored odds Julio would offer, almost all would be placed with him. Rather, they were to be placed at the bank.
The bank! The bank was central to Julio’s plans.
Julio and Percival followed the procedure established with Julio’s father many years before. A bettor would appear, and he and Julio would agree on the odds and amounts of the bet. In the bank, the two would place fingers in the required slot and deposit the required coins. If Julio survived the fight, the coins were automatically his son’s (or Maria Elena’s.) If the bull killed him, the coins belonged to the bettor.
Julio and Percival made it clear that the bets were frozen until the fight began, and if Julio died from any other cause, all bets were forfeit and kept by the bank. There was an amazing amount of protective attention paid Julio because of this latter provision.
Julio’s inspired innovation was the use of the banking system to advertise. For a storage box to be available to its owner upon demand, there must be some form of instant communication/transport from one bank to another. That meant there must be an ability for any bank to communicate with any other bank. So why not send posters advertising his bullfights and gambling to all banks within a given distance?
“You must realize that there are holes in your idea...?” Percival asked him. “First, individual bankers may choose to ignore your posters for one reason or another. Second, most people, to whom this idea might appeal, probably don’t visit a bank. In fact, most people don’t visit a bank very often. Third, I would need to charge you a fee – one you could afford – but those bankers that you need on the receiving end might want something extra for taking your poster somewhere it would be seen. And fourth, most people can’t read. I don’t see that as much of a problem. Once a poster’s presence is known, someone who can read it will spread the message.”
Percival’s insight proved accurate. Together, they decided that a distance of about four tendays travel from the event would be about right. Travelers would need preparation as well as travel time, and Julio and Percival would need time to arrange the anticipated betting when they arrived. No bankers refused the posters, because bettors typically deposited their bets, rather than risk robbery along the way. Innkeepers were happy to have the novelty of a poster in their common room, because they tended to increase patronage.
A consideration that the banker hadn’t mentioned was the lack of a printing press, so all posters were individually created. That was a bonanza for the two local scribes and their apprentices who had pretensions at art. A date some ninety days away was selected, and the happily employed professionals set to work – half pay upfront, the remainder upon completion of the stipulated number. Extra posters drew extra remuneration.
Man and Bull Duel to the death!
New In the Plaza de Toros de Chaos. One man, one bull, cape and sword alone. Watch and wager. Bet on the man or bet on the bull.
Minimum bets five conches.
Odds offered – ten to one on the man.
Below this teaser was a painting of a man wearing a cape facing a huge bull. The man held a sword and the bull was snorting smoke and fire. At the bottom was the date and directions to the location of the spectacle.
Rumors were rampant. One of the more ardent fans and the heaviest bettor was the local warlord Hastert. This fan was rumored to possess a potion that made a cock burner’s pussy harmless and turned her into an insatiable sex toy. In an earlier day, he had offered to bet a cock burner against an improbable purse. The fighter had been murdered, so the payoff had never been accepted. Now, Hastert had a huge income from selling the potion, together with access to an insatiable cock burner. He had little need to risk his pussies, and he had plenty of money to bet.
Julio’s arena was at the edge of the territory ‘controlled’ by Hastert. The warlord was determined to see the new matador’s first, and mayhap only, fight. Others had tried to stand against a bull, but so far, none had the required skills to stand alone with only a cape and a sword. Hastert continued to bet on el Toro and won as the amateur wanabees fell.
Now, Hastert considered his possible wagers and weighed his potential loss against his returns if this new wonder failed in killing his bull. Five conchs against a return of fifty? Three tendays of fucking one of his ‘tame’ cock burners against a return of one hundred conchs? That loss would cost him little more than the price he paid for his potions, and if he coached the winner, the burners would swoon and compete for the opportunity for unlimited sex with such a man. And rolling thunder! If they all agreed, and he was sure the horny vixens would, he had an available stable of two such women. He could even offer the man a choice! If the mad man killed the bull!
In Hastert’s favorite tavern, the poster had been displayed in a place of honor. Once explained to him, Hastert ripped it from the wall. The afternoon after his first romp with Charlene, he sat with three cock burners, Monica Paladin, Arabella Author, and Charlene Stewardess, and told them of his plans and the opportunity for one of them. Monica was pregnant, so she couldn’t use the potion, but she and her traveling companions decided to stay and watch this challenge. The other two were excited at the chance to spend thirty days with such a man, and as she had suggested earlier, Monica asked Hastert to place a bet for her against the bull. Hastert was not surprised when she showed him that she was good for her wager.
Charlene was all in to be a prize. Her weeks of sex with Charles, and now with Hastert, demonstrated vividly what she would miss when – if – she returned to Cassandra. She wanted all the variety she could obtain, whether to decide to remain on Chaos or to build memories for when she returned to Cassandra. She didn’t know which. Arabella had decided she was ready to return, but thought another man in her bed was just fine for the interim.
A tenday before the advertised spectacle, people started arriving. The town’s two inns were filled to capacity and their stable lofts as well. For all three meals the common rooms served four times the normal trade. El Amigo could not make enough tamales, but Josh still made plans to sell from a tent the day of the coming fight. Charlene and her traveling companions had arrived before the large influx, and even without Hastert’s influence, had secured rooms and stabling at his inn. When the crowding began in the common room, Hastert had meals served in his study and invited the lovely ladies – and Charles – to join him. How could he not?!
Charles fascinated Arabella. His ladies had shaped him into a fine-tuned sex machine, but he was much more than that. He was attuned to her needs, whereas Hastert was hearty. His attentiveness was driven by practical selfishness. She could only compare the two, as her Hero had been murdered before she’d known him more than a few days. She wanted her new Hero, whenever she had one, to be like Charles.
The arena was not very large, and certainly not as grand as even the smallest on Earth. It was comparable in size to the Plaza de Toros de Mijas – that was Earth’s smallest – where as a young teen Julio witnessed a most excellent fight. Like that venue, his Plaza de Toros de Chaos could seat a few hundred spectators and not the thousands of larger rings.
The plaza constructed by his father was a flat surface surrounded by a wooden wall with bleachers reaching up a stonewall surrounding all. On Chaos, bleachers were an innovation, and the structure was almost magnificent. One day, it could become both a defensible citadel and a marvelous place of entertainment. Hundreds traveled to witness Julio’s first ‘official’ outing.
Shortly before noon, Julio entered the ring, not to applause, but to laughter; most in the audience had never seen anything like his gaudy apparel. Maria Elena and her uncle told him to expect this response, so unconcerned; he bowed and turned to face the gate where the bull would enter. He raised his hands until the audience quieted enough for him to speak, “Hola señoras y señoritas y señores. Bienvenidos. This is a special time for me – the restoration of my father’s sport – one man against one bull.”
“Betting closed at the bank one hour ago, and Banker Percival tells me that twenty-one of you have bet on Cortez, the bull. The total bet against me is three hundred and fifty conchs, plus the services of one cock burner for three tendays – valued by me at ten conchs. If you are correct, I will lose a total of three thousand, six hundred conchs ... but when el Toro dies, it seems that I am to become a stud!”
When the laughter died down and jeers began, Julio raised his hands again and continued, “I know some of you think a cock burner is no prize, someone only to look at and wish. But among you is the warlord Hastert who has a potion to render a cock burner a pleasure instead of a pain. You might seek him out after the fight ... and after I visit his cock burners and select my prize.”
With that, he turned and signaled Maria Elena and his assistants to release the bull. Though those who bet had visited the Cortez to assure the animal was no weakling to be foisted off on them, the huge angry animal drew a gasp from the crowd, bettors included. When Cortez saw the lone man standing in the center of the floor, he lowered his head and pawed the ground as he began his challenge.
Julio, determined to give his audience a show, began with a Verónica pass, spreading his large cape in both hands and guiding the charging bull without a step aside, then moving the smaller capote of his two capes in a graceful motion from one side of his body to the other. With that, some who had bet on Cortez began to doubt their wisdom, and the three Damsels dampened their pantaloons in anticipation.
Ordinarily, a matador would primarily use his cape and agility to entertain his audience, but Julio needed to weaken the bull with every pass. Working harder than he ever had, Julio was beginning to regret the ‘one man against one bull bet’. Like the other matadors on Earth, he’d always had mounted picadors to wound and tire the bull. Now, using only his sword, he must weaken the bull himself. A second Verónica, this one with his cape concealing his sword, and as the bull passed, he whirled and stabbed. The bull’s charge almost tore the sword from his hand, and he danced back to prepare for another charge.
The three Damsels sitting between Hastert and Charles panted.
The third pass was intended as a variation of the Verónica. Holding his cape in one hand to guide the charging bull to the other side of his body, he moved the cape diagonally across his body. The diagonal, a half-circle motion, allowed him to stab Cortez on his other shoulder. This time, the wound was deep enough that his sword was jerked away, and the fourth and fifth passes were met with a cape alone. Two perfect Verónicas, and the crowd, thinking this was all intentional, cheered wildly.