Faedyn calls him to serve Haydia

A loud feminine exclamation of satisfaction turned Tiercel's head, and he saw his uncle, King Faedyn, dispatching Lady Haydia into plaisir extremis upon his spear of manhood. Lady Haydia, face crimson, shouted out her joy at being stabbed till she was overcome. Faedyn laughed in triumph behind the loins of his victim of lust. Yet the King's exultation was brief. Haydia's tight channel clenched with the grip of love-****, throttled the King's cock and squeezed the life out of it in the moment of his victory. Faedyn's hoarse cry of love-**** followed hers.

Tiercel heard the company cheering and acclaim the King's gushing-out of life into the Lady's inner chamber. Even his mother, the King's disgraced sister Wren, was caught up in the excitement and squeezed his hand with each loud cry.

Wren composed herself and cleared her throat, addressing Tiercel. "Let us make some useful acquaintances for you, before they all lose their clothes and get down to their own pleasure-work," she said.

"Mother," he murmured in acknowledgment. He stared at Haydia and Faedyn. The king's royal cock slipped from Haydia's cunt and sprang up, wet with their mixed juices and still at part-stand.

"Tierce my lad!" the King called. "The very moment, boy, come here!"

"My blessings. Remember she..." Wren whispered a reminder of Haydia's favored pleasures. "Do us proud," she hissed and pushed him forward.

"Down hose there, boy, and climb on. Haydia needs a rider," Faedyn urged.

Tiercel could not put off his manners for all that, though they came out a bit shaky. "My Lady," he said, bending one knee and addressing himself to their hostess. "My lady Haydia, mistress of Gel'ant Close, Baroness Honeymead, I, Tiercel of Kesby, greet you." Haydia's fair skin was flushed deep pink, and her coppery hair damp. "How may I serve you, my lady?"

"Do as your lord bids you, Tiercel," Lady Haydia said. "Pierce my flesh with yours, little hawk, and know me as your Lady this night."

"Your servant, my lady," he acknowledged. His prick throbbed with anticipation, and his pulse beat loud in his ears. But Tiercel feared that after Faedyn's massive lance, his own merely superior one might leave Lady Haydia unfulfilled. He stood, hesitating a moment, as Haydia looked into his eyes with a twinkle of mirth in her own.

Haydia looked over Tiercel's shoulder. "Lady Wren," she commanded. "Uncover me your son."

Tiercel felt his mother's fingers tremble as she unwound his cummerbund and loosened his hose. Her breathing was fast and warm against his shoulder, but quiet. Her soft, deft fingers slid inside and tugged his prick to make a better first impression before she unveiled him to Lady Haydia. The touch of air on his prick tickled, making it stand and salute the hostess.

"Oh, how beautiful," Haydia crowed. "Just as you told me, Faedyn! I am so glad you bade them to accompany you this time."

The aahs and giggles of a few ladies echoed Haydia's praise.

Tiercel swallowed and tried to remember his practice with Mme. Maibonne. The retired courtesan had been patient with his fumblings and genuinely delighted when he finally gained proficiency. Now how did those things go that he had learned Haydia favored?

Haydia rolled luxuriously onto her side and beckoned to Tiercel. "I cool. Poke up my fires," she said.

The King stood to one side, smirking as he stroked his manhood to another full stand.