Waterfall Keep
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2012 by aubie56

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sir Geoffrey was a noble minding his own business when he was suddenly attacked by a cabal of master wizards. This is the story of how he defended himself and his friends with the help of a hedge-witch, Granny Eltman, who was not what she seemed to be. Magic, monsters, and powerful wizards are all determined to kill Sir Geoffrey, so his survival seems all but impossible. This story was inspired by an HBO series.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   Historical   Violence  

I am really not sure what it was that made me look hard to my left, but I will always thank God that I did! I caught a glimpse of the blackguard with the crossbow just in time to duck. Well, if the truth be known, I was in such a hurry to avoid that bolt headed in my direction that I practically fell from my horse. As I went over to my side, I kept a death's grip on the saddle horn and managed to hit the ground in a standing position.

The bolt went whizzing over my left shoulder. It would have caught me just under the ribs on my left side, and probably have killed me very painfully in a day or so, provided the shooter and his friends let me live that long. My companions drew their swords and rushed to my side. My squire, Rolf Harker, was the first to reach me. "Sir Geoffrey, My Lord, stay where you are until we have located all of the bastards!"

That was damned good advice, and I might have taken it. Unfortunately, I was always a bit of a hothead. Normally, I carried a bastard sword (a sword to be used with one or two hands) in a baldric over my shoulder so that I could draw it with either hand. I am something of a giant among my fellows, 6'-3" tall and weighing a bit over 15 stone (212 pounds). I am strong enough to swing a claymore with one hand, but that is too long a sword to wear comfortably while riding; therefore, I compromise with a bastard sword.

At that moment, another bolt fired from behind me pinged off my helm, and that proved that I had best disregard my friend's advice and look to enemies on all sides. I drew my sword and took my shield as I turned to face this new foe. My trusty steed would remain where he was to guard my back while I faced in the new direction. My shield was enough to absorb crossbow bolts, so I had no fear of them if I could spot them soon enough, but that could be a chancy thing. The best defense against an attacker with a crossbow was to run him down while the shooter was laboring to cock and reload his weapon.

Rolf and Elbert Humphrey were still mounted, so I left it to them to tend to the blackguards who were too far away for me to reach while afoot. I took off as fast as I could run to the tree where the second shooter had been hiding. He was just about to take aim again when my sword removed his left arm. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Fortunately, I was through with him for the moment, but I suddenly had three men to attack me with swords and mace.

I used the tree to protect my back as I blocked the first swing of the mace with my shield. At the same time, I used the length of my sword to reach far enough to stab one of the other men just above his cock. That man fell away from me, so he pulled my sword loose before it could become entrapped by his body. Some days, I can understand why so many people call me "Lucky Geoffrey."

Nevertheless, I was pulled a bit away from the tree by the weight of the falling man, and that was again an example of my fighting luck. I was able to block another swing from the mace with my shield as I lurched forward, and the other man with the sword stabbed the tree instead of me.

By the Grace of God, I was able to backhand with my sword the man who had tried to stab me and cut his throat, and that let me concentrate on the man with the mace. A mace is not a weapon that allows for a lot of grace and finesse in its use nor in defense against it. Therefore, I did not concern myself about the artistry of my sword play.

I blocked another swing at my head from the mace, and used the momentum to swing my sword at the attacker's thigh. Yes, he was wearing a soldier's armor, so I did not cut him, but I did knock him sufficiently off balance to give me the time I needed to stab him in the gut. Between my strength and the weight of my sword, I was able to penetrate his armor and to skewer his bowels. I was not able to make a slash of it, but I did manage to twist my sword to do a lot of damage to his internals. I now had four men lying at my feet, and I quickly turned about to find someplace else that my sword might be of use.

This was when I saw that Rolf and Elbert had each dispatched two of the attackers. I thanked them for their fine work and looked more closely at our attackers. Dammit, they were wearing the colors of Alfred Bushton, the Baron of Blakeslee Keep! That was ridiculous! Baron Bushton and my father have been friends since they were children. It is simply unreasonable that Bushton would want me dead. There was something going on here that was well beyond the normal head-knocking that Bushton and my father did as jokes on each other. My father must know of this as soon as possible!

But first, we needed to ask some questions. At least one of the ambushers was still alive, though barely so. The man who had lost his arm was not dead yet; perhaps he could be induced to answer a few questions. We returned to him, and I pissed on his face until he returned to consciousness.

He obviously was in considerable pain and begged for us to cut his throat so that he could escape the pain. I promised to grant him that boon if he would answer some questions. At first, he refused to talk, but a little pressure applied just south of his crotch caused him to change his mind. He and his companions had been hired in a tavern to ambush us. The plan was for me to be killed, but the other two men to be left alive as witnesses. They were to see the Bushton colors and that was supposed to make them believe that this had been ordered by Alfred Bushton. If my father had believed it, this attack would have started a blood feud between Springfeld and Blakeslee. Who would gain from that?

As promised, I cut the blackguard's throat. We gathered the weapons and rode back to Springfeld Keep. On the way, we discussed this strange encounter, and none of us could figure out an explanation for it. Perhaps, Father would have some ideas.

When we entered the Keep, I sent a page to find my father and to tell him that I needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Rolf and Elbert went into the kitchen to arrange for bedwarmers for the night. I told them to pass the word to Beth that I would expect her after supper, and to wash herself before she showed up. I knew that would thrill her: every maid in the keep hoped to bear one of my bastards so that she would have a permanent station for life. I had two of them already, and all of the maids knew how well they were cared for.

I had only 10 minutes to wait before Father called me into his presence. He was in a jocular mood, but that changed quickly when I told him all of what had happened this afternoon. He began to curse immediately, but, like me, he refused to blame his friend Bushton. "What sort of evil mischief has Satan cooked up to cause this to happen? I thank God that all three of you are safe! Son, do you have any ideas?"

I had to admit that the three of us had talked of nothing else on our way to the Keep, and none of us had been able to come up with anything that made sense, and I was not going to believe that Bushton had anything to do with this attack.

Father nodded and said, "Son, you know that this can happen again. I can not keep you locked up to protect you, so all I can do is ask that you not take any foolish or unnecessary risks. Meanwhile, I will send a message to Alfred to tell him what happened to you, and that I know that he had nothing to do with it."

"Father, please allow me to take the message. If I do, that will only reinforce what you say."

Father laughed and said, "Ah, Geoffrey, that is a good idea. Also, I am sure that you will also manage a few moments with Gwendolyn Bushton while you are about it!" What could I do but bow my head?

That evening after supper, Father wrote the message to his friend, and I would deliver it in the morning. However, I had an interesting appointment scheduled for that night. On the way to my room, I stopped a page and had him order a bath for me in my room. The word had gotten ahead of me, and water had been heating ever since Beth had been told to bathe. Ah, there are no secrets in the Keep!

I was one of those rare individuals who had his own bath tub in his room. That saved a lot of work for several people, so that was something else that made me popular. By the time I had gotten to my room, Beth was already there supervising the preparation of my bath. The tub was half full of water at room temperature, and there were several iron pots full of boiling water in the fireplace. Beth knew what I liked, and she had everything prepared for when I arrived.

She helped me remove the clothing I had worn at supper time and soon had me naked. I was already hard, and my cod-piece had popped open when she had loosened the bindings. Her comment was, "I think that the cod-piece is the most practical item of clothing that men wear." We both grinned at that.

Beth added hot water to the tub and stirred it in. When she had the temperature adjusted to her satisfaction, she said, "My Lord, your bath is ready. Would you like for me to bathe you?"

Well, she knew the answer to that, but we had a little ritual we went through. "Of course I would. Please help me into the water." That was what she had been waiting for. She loosened a pair of ties, and her robe fell to the floor, showing her to be completely naked. Even her pussy hair was gone: every maid who wanted my child kept her crotch plucked clean. I have heard stories that they help each other with the chore.

She reached to me and took an elbow in one hand and my cock in the other, and she held me steady as I stepped into the water. I did not dare fall for fear that my cock would be ripped out by the roots from how tightly she was holding it. She used her grip on my cock to guide me into the water and soon had me sitting as she moved her hand up and down my erect cock a few times as if to ensure that it was fully extended. It was.

That was all for the preliminaries. Now she proceeded to bathe me as carefully as a mother would bathe her child, making certain that I was completely clean from head to toe. She added more hot water as the bath water cooled off. The result was a perfectly adjusted water temperature that exactly fit my needs. Now that I was clean and rinsed, Beth stepped into the water for the first time. I knew that she had already bathed because I could smell her clean skin.

I was half-sitting and half-reclining in the tub as she entered the water. She stood upright over my crotch and erect cock astraddle of my hips. Her legs were separated enough that her pussy lips were pulled open sufficiently for me to see that liquid was collected there and beginning to run down her leg. Beth squatted over my cock and moved until she was perfectly aligned. She spread her pussy lips with the fingers of her left hand and used her right hand to guide my cock into her opening.

Beth continued to descend until she had complete penetration. I could hear a little squeal of delight as my pubic bone put pressure on her clit. She held that position for a few seconds so that we could both enjoy it, then she shifted her position so that she was resting on her knees and toes. Once her position had stabilized, she began to stroke up and down. Beth must have had considerable strength in her knees because she could pull up until only the ring of muscle behind her pussy lips was holding my cock head inside her. She held that position for a moment and them lowered herself slowly back until there was a return of the pressure against her clit. Each time that contact was made, she gave out with her little squeal of pleasure.

I do not know how long it took or how many strokes she made, but eventually she came with a loud scream of total release and pleasure. It must have taken a couple of minutes for her to progress all the way through her orgasm, but it must have been a good one if I can judge by the way her cunt wall massaged my cock. I had not come yet, but that was by plan. I wanted a lot more fucking before I shot for the first time.

Anyway, at first, I had to hold her up so that she did not collapse into the water and drown. Beth came to herself after a few minutes and was able to climb out of the tub with my help. I climbed out, too, and we dried each other off. She was not nearly as wet from the bath as me, so we lay her towel on the bed to catch our fluids as we continued to enjoy ourselves.

Beth lay on the bed on her back. I checked to be sure that her tunnel was still wet enough for fucking. It was, so I climbed into bed between her legs. I moved her ankles to my shoulders and let her guide my cock back into her pussy hole. I pushed in gently until I bottomed out, and this time there was no squeal. This time there was a moan of pure satisfaction. I began to stroke in and out at a steady pace, faster than Beth had used. By this time, she was well opened for my cock and I was drawn to the pleasure of feeling my cock slide in and out of that perfect receptacle.

Oh, God, I thank you! The friction was perfect and I could feel her skin slide back and forth over mine almost as if it were a polishing cloth. Soon, Beth began to feel herself climbing that mountain peak again, and she climbed it more quickly this time. When I took her over the edge this time, I showed no mercy, but continued to stroke at the speed that gave me the most pleasure. I am happy to report that Beth seemed to like it as much as I did, and her moan of pleasure vibrated through both of us.

She came back down the mountain, but not as far down as she had been. Thus, she started another climb almost as soon as the previous one was over. The only difference between this time and the last was the speed at which she rose to the precipice. Beth went over the edge as before, but she came again almost immediately. I kept stroking as she seemed to settle into one long steady orgasm. I had never seen that before, and I wondered if I might be doing her some harm.

Well, I was not in suspense for long because I came with explosive force. Beth said later that it felt like I was going to shoot jizz into her throat. I believe that I have never had a stronger come than that, and Beth reported that she felt the same way about her orgasm. I could not help but wonder if I had finally made her pregnant. I had mixed feelings about that: Beth was my favorite fuck partner so far, but I knew how much she wanted my baby. The question was how much longer would I be fucking her.

Normally, Beth and I would wake up in the middle of the night for another round of fucking, but it did not happen this time. Furthermore, we did not have time for a morning quickie because Beth was called to work in the kitchen. I was tempted to tell her to stay with me, but I did not because Father might frown on me setting that sort of precedent.

Father and Mother both knew that I took maids to bed almost every night, but they did not worry about it as long as it did not become serious. Even the bastards that I begot were a welcome addition to the household, so neither one of them cared. But woe unto the girl I got too serious about. She would be exiled to another county because I had to marry a girl who would be a useful gain for our family. Money or land, preferably both, were what I was to look for in a wife, not sexual pleasure. I could get that from maids if I had to. Mother made sure that Father did not wander, but, admittedly, she had to work at it, even at his advanced age of 38. I wondered what I would be like when I got that elderly.

After breakfast, I took Father's letter to Blakeslee Keep. Rolf and Elbert went with me on Father's orders. He insisted that I never go anywhere without reliable companions until this situation was cleared up. We were especially watchful as we rode, but nothing showed up to cause us worry.

We rode into the courtyard of the Keep and were met with less than the usual greetings of friendship and welcome. At first, it did not make sense, then I wondered if something had happened to the Bushton hold to cause a change in attitude. If so, it was past time to mend the problem.

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