Copyright© 1992-2003

There was a young cook with the art
Of making a delicious tart
With a handful of shit,
Some snot and some spit,
And he'd flavor the whole with a fart.

The Sleeping Tyrant Inn was very full. Before I even entered the smoke filled building I could see the packed humanity within. If another wayside stop was within twenty miles I would have kept going, yet this was my only possibility. A night upon the lightly covered snow did not impress me. I had to reach my destination by tomorrow evening, nothing could slow me down.

The stable boy took my Palfrey and the coppers with a toothless smile. Before I even went through the door, a man came flying out. Head first. I almost turned around and kept going down the road, but the grumble of my belly prevented me. Stepping over the comatose individual I entered the Tyrant.

The first words I hear, "Ave gov'?"

"Uh, good evening..." I was rudely interrupted.

"Now ya' just sit yo'r p'etty buns down gov' and I be'd right wi't cha'." Do I really need to give a description to this tavern worker. I think not, my story is about someone else.

I looked about the room, and there was no place to sit, no table free. I loathed sitting with uneducated farmers and their lackeys. Yet over near the wall, furthest from the fireplace and loudest commotion, was a small round table. It was the person sitting at the table that interested me most, and who is the reason I'm writing this short story. A lady of mark and obviously her maid were sitting alone, the other tables full of men ignoring them as lower classes often did with high-born women.

I stood over them, my hat in hand, "Good evening lady," I addressed the one, "would it be uncivil of me to present myself and ask the privilege of sitting at your table?"

"Of course good sir, a gentle-man is always welcome at a lady's dinner table. Especially if she is alone amongst..." She stopped and looked around, echoing my own thoughts. "My name honoured sir is Lady Elizabeth, this is my maid H--." For the life of me I can't remember the maids name, no matter, I didn't even look at her.

"A pleasure of your acquaintance my Lady, my name is Viscount Rothman." I took my place in the empty seat. "Have you yet eaten?" She nodded no. "The wench does not want to serve our kind it seems." I was taken back, we had money, and we will not barter with chickens for a drink as I assume many of her clients do.

I immediately stood and waved over the woman that had greeted me upon entering this establishment. "Madam, three fine dinners, well cooked mind you, and wine for the table. Hurry about it wench." She gave me a evil look but the silver coin I produced caused her to shuffle off quickly and with a smile.

Sitting again, I began a polite conversation with the pretty Lady. I learned many things, none that truly interested me. The supper arrived, great heaps of it piled high upon the plate, was palatable barely. Yet it did fill me up. I ordered three rooms for us. There was no problem with that, most of the clientele lived within riding distance and only came for an evening to drink and socialize. I accompanied Lady Elizabeth to the door to her room, kissing her hand telling her I will be gone early and would not see her tomorrow. She nodded and sweep into her room. I was about to enter my own when H-- grabbed the crook of my arm.

"Sir, the Lady Sir!" She dropped her voice, barely audible over the steady roar of the tavern. "It be'd her husband, he's right knocked. If ya' know what I mean? We are going to his mothers where I believe he wants the gentle Lady disposed of Sir!"

I was a little taken back, "Disposed of? What do you mean woman?" It was a very stern voice I used with that maid.

"I mean Sir, he wants a d'vorce." I had to sigh with relief, I had thought she meant... well you know. A divorce was possible since King Henry VIII created the Church of England, yet only the very rich could afford this privilege and is still rare even at Court. The maid took my silence as not understanding her simple country words, "The Lord has a new woman, a country wench with no manners. He even flaunts her in the household manner. If I be so bold," she has so far, "the Lady is beyond herself. Perhaps even readying to leave us by her own hand."

She was saying that Lady Elizabeth was preparing to commit suicide because of her ignoramus husband. I could not believe that the soft-spoken smiling Lady that I had dinner with, was going to take her own life. Then a door opened down the hallway and H-- scurried off almost scared. Why had she told me, what could I do? I entered my room and lay upon the bed starring at the ceiling.

Two hours must have gone by in a wink before a decision came to me. I exited my room and entered the Lady's. Yes I didn't knock, nor was it locked, but had a triangular piece of wood under the edge of the door. Very easy to still open quietly.

I sat upon the bed next to the dark sleeping form, and then spoke, "Lady Elizabeth?"

She turned around facing me, I could sense her nervousness as well as my own, "Viscount, what... ?"

Gently with as much skill as I could apply, I kissed the Lady upon the lips. I found them warm, moist, and inviting. She did not resist nor did she return my kiss.

Holding my face above hers I whispered, "Good Lady your maid has told me what ails you." I kissed her again. "I am here to convince you that I for one cherish your life." This time she returned my kiss, yet with very little passion.

My tongue caressed her lips and slid past into her mouth. I fondled and toyed with her mouth, coercing her to open her lips even more to my intrusion. Very slowly she responded to my interest and returned my passion. Her own tongue caressed mine, while I savoured her hungry taste. In only a single minute she was transformed from a sad mute, to a passionate woman. She began to explore my own mouth, teeth, and lips. Her hunger rapidly gaining ground with my own passion.

Lady Elizabeth pulled her arms from beneath the thick woolen blankets to wrap me against her. Her hands were pure energy, moving rapidly pulling my blouse from my trousers and feeling the smooth hard skin beneath. I in turn held her head in my hands gentle as if holding a babe. I would not want to turn her away with aggressive mannerisms. She held the reins as to how far and what this evening entailed.

Her hands snuck between our stomachs to undo my trouser belt. The lady's hands were shaking so violently I wondered if she was scared by my intrusion. Yet when my bottoms were pushed past my buttocks and my manhood exposed did I learn the full truth to this woman. Lady Elizabeth held my rigid penis with her small hand and let out a very deep sigh into the depths of my mouth even while she measured and tested my manhood. Evidently she was satisfied and I felt her body relax, her hand come away from my crotch, and her mouth detach from my own.