Greetings Dungeon Crawlers,

This week I decided to return to my fantasy erotic novel, A Lady and a Maid. In this week’s clip, we move to the Frontier and the Palace of Peace where we find Lord Andrus Westwood, his Captain, Lawrence, and their unfortunate companion, the servant, Ryndra…

* * * *

The Frontier

Lord Andrus Westwood dropped his looking glass, reclined back into the worn oaken seat ensconced in the alcove high atop the observation tower. It was probably unnecessary to use the glass in the pitch black of the night, but he thought it at least set a good example for the men on duty in the other three watchtowers. He didn’t need to be up there in the windswept heights above the sprawling Palace of Peace; any number of his men would gladly have taken watch duty for him. Something was bothering him though. It was an unease, a nagging doubt that kept him on watch — despite the fact that he outranked every soldier in the Palace.

It was his job to protect the Frontier, and until his unsettling foreboding abated, he’d do it personally.

The palace itself was the size of a small city, but from the soaring viewpoint of the tower, it was just so much scenery; a cacophony of light, sound, and smell that had no concrete form, a mass of humanity, far below. The palace was the largest of the three main hubs of the Frontier. It was constructed in response to a previous Incursion that nearly wiped out humanity. The humans that remained resolved to never again be caught unawares, undefended, and the Frontier fortifications were the result.

Standing, he stretched his tall, lanky frame, a grimace crossing his features as he worked the stiffness from his muscular legs. A gust of wind played between the four watchtowers, washing over his face, the dark whiskers of his bearded chin stirring. His deep brown eyes squinted at the cold bite of the breeze. It was time to warm up.

He picked up the hooded torch that provided his only illumination there high above the palace, using the leather hood to signal to the other towers that he was going off watch. The other towers would scan his side of the palace until his return. Every minute of warning of an impending incursion was a minute that would save lives. He knew it better than most, but all the men assigned watch duty took it extremely seriously — it was after all their families too in harm’s way below, along with everyone else.

Making his way down the dimly lit staircase that spiraled up within each of the stone watchtowers, Andrus was grateful for the shelter from the chill night breeze. He opened the door to the warm, candlelit watch quarters, his Captain, Lawrence kneeling on one of the bunks.

“Finish up with her and join me, Lawrence,” Andrus said, his lips curved in a weary smile.

“Yes, Sir,” Lawrence said, his voice labored. The captain was bent over the crouching form of a naked girl. Ryndra, the maidservant they’d brought with them to the Frontier had caught the roving eye of his captain. Plucked from her normal scullery position at Westwood, her new duties were comprised mainly of helping Andrus and his captain make their long hours on the Frontier seem a little less lonely.

Andrus appreciated the servant’s firm breasts, agile tongue and warm, soft body. Judging by the vigorous thrusting of his hips and the heavy panting of the prostrate girl, Captain Lawrence appeared to be appreciating her attributes even more.

Stripping off the studded leather armor, Andrus dropped the gleaming steel leg greaves on the floor next to the fire. He slumped into a deep, stuffed chair, his one concession to comfort that no normal soldier would be allowed. Across the room, the girl’s breathless cries rose, interspersed with groaned curses from the rutting captain.

Andrus hated his time off duty. The watch gave him something to occupy his mind, a way to stave off the melancholy that threatened to shroud him in suffocating darkness. He knew he should be concerned about the preternatural quiet all along the Frontier. Quiet was never good. But alone —or nearly so, the nearby copulating couple notwithstanding — his mind invariably went to his wife.

Miriam.

He feared she was lost to him, in spirit, if not in body. She’d changed. The vivacious, adventurous woman he’d wooed and wed as a young man, had somehow transformed herself. She was just as beautiful as she’d been then, perhaps more so, but that wasn’t what pained him. Her spirit, or more specifically, her lack of spirit was his worry. She’d grown twisted and sadistic over the years, and in that time a cold gulf had developed between husband and wife. Andrus had no quarrel with sadism — when exercised with some restraint. He enjoyed the sight of a bound woman in his bed, her ass raised high for the agony of a tight twenty with the cane. He understood well the appeal of exercising sexual dominance over another person.

But what Miriam indulged in … was something else. He had to keep close eye on her, more than a Lord should need to. She was constantly pushing limits, chafing under the limitations of his dictates. He’d even had to take a husband’s prerogative, and spank her himself a time or two. Afterward, she’d seemed more malleable, more willing to see things his way. However, all too soon, she would drift off course again, succumbing to her obsessions. He despaired that there was no going back to the Miriam he still loved, but no longer recognized. He knew that things would come to some sort of resolution upon his return to Westwood in four weeks time. He only hoped that his fears were unfounded.

The rider that had arrived with news two nights ago didn’t encourage him though. As he’d suspected, she was continuing with her unhealthy obsession with tormenting the commoner farmer, Clayton McClearn. He didn’t understand the fixation she had on him. He’d attempted to draw it out of her before his departure for the Frontier, but she’d demurred, saying his concerns were misplaced. He had offered to have McClearn summoned to Westwood for a meeting with them both, but she’d laughed off the suggestion as foolish. Frustrated, he’d left with strict instructions to her to leave the man and his family in peace. He’d have to deal with her disobedience upon his return

Lawrence, his shoulder-length blond hair swinging at his back, walked by Andrus’ chair, sitting in his own on the other side of the fire. He crossed his legs, his shirt only partially buttoned, sweat gleaming on a well-muscled chest.

“Had enough of her for now, Captain? You’ve been doing more fucking than soldiering on this trip.”

Lawrence stiffened, sitting straighter in his chair. “Milord, I—”

“Carry on,” Andrus said, waving a calming hand. “I’d rather you get it out of your system now, before something happens. I need you on the line fresh if, Gods forbid, the nocturne decide to move. And that’s another thing — it’s ‘Andrus’, out here. Ballocks to titles.”

Lawrence sat back in his chair, finishing the buttons on his shirt. “Thank you, Milord — Andrus. You know you have me, whatever comes.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Captain.” Andrus nodded, a hand extended toward the girl. “So, did she restore you?”

Lawrence smiled, his prominent canines gleamed in the candlelight, lending him the look of a satisfied wolf. “That she did.”

The girl knelt in a compact posture on the bed, a thin white cotton top her only covering. Her gleaming eyes dominated her pretty face, the orbs reflecting the flicker of the firelight.

“Come here, girl,” Andrus said, turning in his chair, beckoning her to him.

She hesitated a moment, no doubt trying to ascertain what her Lord had in mind.

“You’ve nothing to fear, girl. Come, sit with me.”

She moved to his side, her hands clasped before her, the strong smell of Lawrence’s semen mingling with the alluring musk of her sex. He drew her down upon his lap, tucking her head under his chin, a broad hand clasping the curve of her naked hip. her body was tense, her hands twisting together.

Andrus looked down upon her, a smile on his lips. “You’ve been hard used, Ryndra. You’ve naught to fear from me. Take your ease, dove.” He held her tighter to his broad chest, nuzzling the girl’s straw colored hair.

Relaxing, she sighed, laying a hand upon his breast.  “Thank you, Milord.”

He held her for a few minutes, the intent gaze of Lawrence upon Ryndra the entire time. Perhaps his randy Captain was not quite as sated as he’d initially seemed? Andrus tucked the hair back behind Ryndra’s delicate ear, his rough fingers stroking the tender flesh of her earlobe.

“Do you need me to take watch, Sir?” Lawrence sat forward as if to rise, a deliberate nod of his head toward Ryndra.

Andrus shook his head, his lowered hand signaling the Captain to stay.

Lawrence sat back once more, his long fingers drumming the handle of his chair. “Anything new on the towers?”
Andrus shrugged, his hand caressing the breathtakingly soft cheek of the girl in his lap. She was a lovely girl indeed, and not for the first time, he was glad his Captain had pressed her to come along on the trip. His cock began to stir, and despite the fact that Ryndra was nearly half his age, he didn’t feel like fighting the rise of his desire. It was a way not to think. It meant he hadn’t succumbed to his melancholy.

Yet.

“Turn, girl. No, facing your Captain.”

Her limbs were tense, but she obeyed, allowing Andrus to splay her thighs open upon his. Her sex was fully exposed, something not lost on Lawrence, whose possessive gaze took in the lovely sight.

“What did I miss while I was up in the clouds freezing my balls off, Lawrence?”

The captain’s gaze rose, but just for a moment. “Laird’s patrol is late.”

Andrus snorted. “So, in other words, the usual.”

Lawrence nodded, sitting forward, his elbows braced on his thighs, his gaze focused once more on the girl’s displayed pussy.

“Maybe not so usual, Andrus. He’s two days late.”

That was something else entirely. “Did he take the northern leg?”

“Aye.”

Andrus slipped a broad hand down over the girl’s sex, the seething heat of her flesh hot against his palm. She stiffened in his clutch as he ground the heel of his hand against her clit.

“She likes that,” Lawrence said, smiling.

“So she does,” Andrus murmured. He kissed the girl’s ear, and she turned her head toward his lips.

“I’ve a retrieval party out looking for them,” Lawrence said, his posture straight, his flies straining against a now obvious erection. “But the last time any patrol was more than a day overdue, they never returned.”

“Did his route take him as far as The Ford?” The girl inhaled sharply as Andrus slipped a finger into the soft sheath of her pussy.

“It was supposed to, but we’ve had riders arrive from there saying they never laid eyes on him.”

“If I know Laird, he’s probably passed out drunk, knee deep in slave girls. Isn’t there a House Nightshade at The Ford?”

“Aye, but I doubt that’s where he hides. We’d have heard something. That man is as subtle as a storm. Somebody would have talked.”

Andrus thrust a second finger into Ryndra’s clenching sex, the girl moaning at the stretching. She was so petite that he had little doubt her narrow passage was sore tested by the width of his thick questing digits. The wet sound of his fingers plundering her increased in volume as he thrust faster, the girl shifting in his lap, her hand clasped around his corded forearm.

“Do I need to bind you?” His voice rumbled against her hair. “You know better.” 

She shook her head, dropping her hand from his arm.

“Good girl. I think I have a better use for those hands of yours. Lift your shirt.”

She turned her head to look at him, her blue eyes uncertain, the corners of her pretty lips turned down.

“Do as I say, Ryndra. I shouldn’t have to ask twice.”

Her hands flew to the snug hem of the cotton, lifting it slowly.

“All the way now, let your Captain see those breasts of yours. Perhaps he’ll want to suckle them? You’ll let him if he does.”

She turned her face from Lawrence, nuzzling her head under Andrus’ bearded chin, her cheeks flushed scarlet.

“Good”, Andrus said, making sure the fabric was clear above the swells of her youthful bosom. Her high breasts were not large, but were perfectly suited to her petite frame. The nipples were a deep pink, the areolas crinkled. He stroked the tender flesh with a finger, watching the nipple draw tight.

“Andrus … ” Lawrence moved to stand, his hands moving at his flies.

“Go to him, dove,” Andrus whispered into her ear. “Serve him well. I’ll be watching.”

She slipped from his lap to kneel before the Captain. Her hands went between his legs, and Andrus watched her slowly move her head as she took Lawrence into her mouth. Her round little bottom swayed as her movements became urgent, the clutch of the Captain’s hands in her long hair growing more insistent.

Andrus could wait no longer, his cock painfully twisted in his trousers. He stood, opening his flies and moved to stand close behind the girl, gazing upon her as she serviced the Captain. Her lips were stretched tight around Lawrence’s cock as she bobbed up and down the stiff shaft, gleaming saliva leaking from the corners of her mouth. Andrus lay a hand against her hollowed cheek, caressing her, and she moaned around the hard shaft. Lawrence gritted his teeth, his hands clasping her hair in two fists.

Andrus nodded to Lawrence, and the Captain used her hair to pull her off of his cock. She peered up at him, confused.

“My Lord, what can I—”

Lawrence sat down again, drawing her between his thighs, his fist entwined in her blonde tresses. His long, wet cock bobbed as he shifted forward, and she bent over him. The posture threw out her lovely soft bottom, beckoning Andrus. He dropped to his knees behind her, and laid the throbbing shaft of his penis across her buttock. She froze.

“Keep going, Ryndra. I didn’t tell you to stop,” Lawrence said, his voice thick. He pulled her further downward onto his cock, and she gagged as it struck the back of her throat.

Andrus ran his hands over the girl’s bottom, savoring the silky smoothness of her flesh. She had surprisingly generous buttocks for so slight a girl. He squeezed one of the globes, enjoying the feel of its soft weight in his hand. She wriggled her hips at him, and he slapped her bottom in response. The muscles of her trim thighs clenched at the sting, and she murmured around the Captain’s cock.

Andrus placed a palm on each of her cheeks and yawned them apart, fully exposing her charms to his gaze. The cleft was still slick with oil, her dainty rosette an inflamed, swollen red, still gaping open slightly. The Captain’s semen leaked down from the well-used opening, her perineum wet with his seed.

Andrus chuckled, glancing up at Lawrence. “No wonder she was making so much noise.”

Lawrence grinned, the cords of muscle standing out on his neck, his face flushed.

Andrus moved his hard cock down, the broad head leaving a sticky trail across her buttock. His cock brushed her cleft, the meatus just kissing the girl’s sore bottom hole, and she tightened.

“Easy, dove,” Andrus said, his hand stroking the curve of her hip. “Your Captain has served you well there already. I want something different.”

He drew the head of his cock through the soft folds of Ryndra’s pussy, up, then down. She moaned around the Captain, who growled at her to keep sucking.

Andrus eased forward until his cock was bedded fully, his hard legs tight against her trembling thighs. She shuddered against him, the sounds of her sucking the Captain’s cock filling the room.

“Gods! This cunt is tight.” He thrust languidly, gazing at his shaft glistening with her juices as it pistoned in and out of her sex. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply of her scent.

Lawrence grunted, thrusting his hips quickly, Ryndra gagging again as he drove deep. Andrus grasped her around her incredibly narrow waist, pulling her more fully onto him. The two men pounded into her, rocking her slight body between them.

The first to break, Lawrence held her face down upon him as he groaned out his climax. She coughed and sputtered when he finally let her up off of his spent cock, the brisk thrusting of Andrus continuing to jostle her.

Andrus held out little longer than the Captain. The Lord groaned, his balls tingling as he poured his seed into her. He kneaded the girl’s buttocks as he knelt over her, panting.

Taking a handful of Ryndra’s long blonde hair, Lawrence used it to clean his flaccid cock, leaving her with a pat on her flushed cheek. She hung her head, trembling, waiting for Andrus to catch his breath. He finally released her with a gentle smack to her bottom, and he stood, tucking himself back into his flies. He watched her pull her shirt back down over her breasts, glancing up at him as she did so.

He smiled at her, nodding his head. She inclined her head in reply, and retreated to the bunk she’d come from, curling up on her side to rest, the swollen lips of her pussy glistening with his semen.

Andrus slumped back into his chair, taking a deep drag of mead from the cup Lawrence offered. He stared into the dancing orange hues of the popping fire, wondering again what to do with his Miriam. What was she up to? Why did he feel guilty for using the servant girl, when he had a very good idea of what Miriam got up to with the servants in his absence?

Lastly, he wondered where in God’s name that idiot Laird had gone…

* * * *

I just realized that there is very little actual BDSM in this clip … which is quite unlike me. Hmm. Hopefully, you’ll excuse me for being off my perv game this week. (I’m sure nobody actually read this far anyway, but if you did, thank you:)

Now, please take a few minutes to visit the other blogs sharing their depravity with us this week.

Happy Crawling!

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