Have her go look

“You’d better go look for him,” says Stewart, half out of desperation for relief, and half out of a fear that if he looked at his sister much longer, he would give in to the temptation to get something more than a blowjob from her. “There has to be something that can be done about this.”

Adella rushes to the door in obedience to her brother’s instructions. Just as she opens it, Windermere arrives, carrying a steaming cup. The princess beckons the dwarf/elf into the room. Taking the cup from his hand, she asks, “Will this help? Should I give this to the king?”

Windermere nods, but a look of concern on his face gives Stewart pause. When Adella hands it to him, he studies the contents. The cup contains a thick, brownish-green liquid, continually in motion from the many bubbles that rise up to the surface. It looks and smells very much like boiling mud. Stewart makes a face. “Mercy! What IS this concoction? Am I to drink this?”

His sister looks dubious. “I think so.” She looks toward Windermere for explanation.

The little man steps forward. The tendrils of his beard rise up and extend toward Stewart. Instinctively, the king recoils, remembering the way the peculiar little man had been feeling up Adella with the beard just a few minutes ago.

“He’s not going to try to probe my arse, is he?” For the first time in several minutes, the king finds himself sufficiently distracted from sexual thoughts that his painful erection actually subsides somewhat.

“Stay calm, brother,” says Adella, placing a hand on his leg. “Remember, this is how Windermere communicates. Just relax and don’t fight it.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, crossing his ankles and clenching his buttocks together. “Communicating is one thing, but he’d better keep his beard on the OUTSIDE of my body.”

“I don’t think you’re really his type,” she replies, reassuringly.

Keeping an eye on the peculiar tendrils, Stewart tries his best to relax. One of the tendrils wraps around his wrist. Another comes to rest on his chest.

Without warning, images begin to flash through the king’s brain. He sees his sister, but from the point of view of someone who is standing behind her. He realizes he is reliving the moment when Adella was blowing him, but he is seeing it from the point of view of Windermere, whose hand and beard he can see probing and stimulating Adella’s exposed cunt.

Stewart feels an intense rush of sexual gratification, but he realizes it is not entirely his own. What he is experiencing is the memory of Windermere, who was not only jacking off during that time, but apparently also received sexual stimulation through his facial hair. Stewart sucks in a deep breath of surprise and appreciation as he feels the sensation of both his genitals and his face orgasming.

The effect is quite surprising, not only for himself, but for Adella, who finds herself suddenly splashed with the jizz that abruptly shoots from her brother’s prick. She recoils in surprise. If Stewart had not been so surprised himself, he might have noticed that she was not nearly as quick as one would expect in cleaning the sticky semen from her breasts.

When the shock and pleasure of the sudden orgasm subsides, Stewart finds himself better able to sort through the mental images that come from Windermere. He sees that the contents of the cup are actually meant to be rubbed on his genitals and that they will help alleviate the effects of his “allergic reaction.” He also understands that the effect of this medicine are temporary.

Windermere withdraws his contact with the king, allowing him to get to work applying the hot, smelly salve to his sensitive nether regions. As he does so, Windermere hands a scroll to Adella. She opens it, and after a few moments of studying the strange script, says, “Oh, this is wonderful! Windermere has written out instructions for you on what you need to do to cure yourself of this affliction!”

Stewart sighs in relief as the salve begins to take effect. With his cock dropping to flaccid state for the first time in ages, he is actually able to wear the loincloth with any kind of hope of it actually offering any kind of modesty.

“That’s splendid. Thank you, Windermere.” He looks at Adella and says, “So let’s get started. I don’t want to waste a moment.”

Adella asks, “Don’t you think you owe our hosts a word of explanation?”