The Good Knight

by Caractacus

Copyright© 2017 by Caractacus

Fantasy Story: turning all of those high fantasy stories arse over teakettle. there may be a bit of a twist in the tale

Caution: This Fantasy Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Heterosexual   High Fantasy   .

The knight was totally confused. He was absolutely certain that when he had entered the castle, there had been an elf with him. In the very far recesses of his mind, he was sure that there was something about this particular castle, rumours, but no matter what, he couldn’t for the life of him, think what it was.

Thus far, he had encountered a troll, quickly and easily, perhaps too quickly and easily despatched; and a wyvern, also despatched much quicker than he would have expected, almost as if it were but a phantom.

He had walked dusty corridors, and galleries that had seemed freshly swept. Always that one little sound; no, not a sound, but neither a thought, at least not his own, a something in the back of his mind, calling him.

And ... there it was, a wooden door in good repair, so many of the others were splinters hanging on hinges or had been removed totally for use as firewood. As he approached the door, it swung open.

He thought that he saw a grey-green orc in front of him, and began to draw his sword, but after blinking, he saw the most beautiful princess ever.

A second door into the chamber was just closing, and again, he thought he saw three infant and toddler grey-green orcs, and an elderly goblin mage, before the door swung shut.

He looked around, the princess, naked as the day she was born, lay on the bed, beckoning to him.

‘‘Come lover, come to me, give me what I need.’’ He was shocked. He may not have met many princesses in his life, but he was sure that this was not normal behaviour. Suddenly, he felt a calm come over himself, and he nodded, ‘‘yes, princess, certainly.’’ And then he began to disrobe himself.

The princess was not unimpressed with his spear, and said, ‘‘please, now, fill me up.’’ ‘‘But my lady, I can never do that, it is better that I prepare you beforehand... ‘‘ and he lay next to her, kissing her on the lips, and the neck, nibbling on her ears, before moving down, and kissing, licking, and nibbling on her nipples, that were almost the size of his thumb to the first joint, surrounded by areola that may have been almost the size of his palms. The breasts, nay the boobs, these enormous balloons refused any polite naming, he thought of a melon, that he had once seen, that was at least fifteen inches around, almost as large as the kicking ball that village boys played with every se’ennight.

Using his lips, his tongue, his teeth and both hands, he proceeded to lavish all of the attention that he had been taught was a lady’s due on her.

And ... no matter what, he couldn’t elicit a moan, a shudder or anything from the beautiful woman.

After several hours of bed play, he was exhausted, and very hungry.

A servant, cloaked that he could not see it nor recognise it, brought in a serving tray.

The knight got nauseous looking at the green, almost to the point of gone bad meat, accompanied by fungi, and berries that he would have sworn came from the nightshade bush.

Turning his nose up at these delicacies, he was offered an oat mash, gruel.

For over a fortnight, the only time that the knight got out of bed was to use the chamber pot. The princess was insatiable.

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