Dark Knight, company of Dawn Gravielle

"Him? Lord Lothar is a a butcher, a demented bastard with barely the money to keep his arms and armor, much less a family. What makes you think he will be a good husband for our daughter?" That was just the start of the fastidious battle, the proverbial last straw on the camel´s back. Your husband was a loathsome bore, but at least until this point he never tried to hurt your daughter. It continues to name calling and hard spiteful sex, and a honest mother-daghter conversation. Serena was her own woman, she would be fine.

The next morning you were in a coach with your two best friends. Anne Phelanti is the high summoner´s daughter, a tall chestnut haired woman that loved nothing better than music and the bards that sign them. Amanda Pastrini is a foreign noblewoman, a Svitzvan related to the queen herself, but one would never guess from the innocent and naive figure the blonde women entices with her curly hair and frequent laugh. It was Anne that remarked how Sir Scott, with all his gallant charms, ignored all the noblewomen of the court, and it was Amanda that suggested them to look for real men elsewhere. The three spent some time chatting who would be worthy to be called Sir Scott´s equal, until finnaly they decided only the Dark Knight, or maybe the black mage Visculan, could be considered Sir Scott´s equals.

It was unexpected to be notified that another woman would be joining them on their trip, and even more so to find her an eerily beautiful girl, a gothic figure so finelly etched she could as well be a marble goddess come to life. There was something fragile about her, even as signs of life flowered in her blossoming breasts, or her sinnuous curves continued downwards. Fragile, and oddly exciting.

She didnt join their conversation at first, out of shyness or disdain. Eventually you quipped her "That is such a lovely dress that you are wearing... I could recognize Master Luvas work anywhere" Surpise? so not a royal, and unlikely to even be a noblewoman. "Usually his work is reserved only for the nobilities favorite, but I dont remember seeing you at the last ball" Anne and Amanda were both entertained, probably sharing the pangs of jealousy "Pray tell... are you a courtesan?"

Oh, she tried to hide it with stately pose. Her pout was exquisite. "My name is Dawn and I am, yes, a woman of nightly arts, milady Ulintine." hmm, so she does have a memory, not so aloof as she pretended. "enchanting and mysterious, painful and dark, there has never been a man that met me and left unchanged"

"So this is what Sir Scott was refering as an erotic seraphin... Did you manage to do what so many of us couldn't, and spirit away his virtue?" Anne said it, but of course this Dawn couldn't know about the erotic seraphin episode. Anne compliments "Please tell us one of your tales. Make it a rauchy one, full of debauchery and forbidden"

Her tale started with a Masquerade, a ball thrown by the Queen. "My own mask feline, for only cats know how to wear sparkles. A young man noticed me, when I allowed him to. Enticed by my shadow, he circled around, trying to ask for my next dance, but all for naught. I eluded him until he gave up, and went out to the balcony. I, of course, followed my prey"

Her voice had a cadent melody, lulling your senses into an aroused antecipation. She pinched your interest with humor and unlikely twists, and left you wondering if really she could have so educated a virgin into a virile stallion. But more

"and of course, eventually this boy´s father noted the difference, and wanted to congratulate his finest son. His son laughed and remarked how confident he was of his newfound technique, and dared his father to match him. Find a noblewoman, they both agreed, still a virgin. Each would have his turn, and whoever she chose would be the winner."

I glanced in Amanda´s direction, and noted how pale she was. To have here this unknown woman casually mention her secret deflowering, how could she know? She had but arrived from Svitzvan when the Fibyans seduced her to their bed, first the father, then the son, and then both. But how she loved it, and even now you notice how she is discreetly massaging her wet crotch, hoping all the attentions are enraptured by our storyteller.

Her tale of pleasuring the other four brothers is hard to believe, but it confirms your suspicion, even if she named no names. The Fybians are one of the few families that proved so fertile, 5 sons in quick consecutive order. Amanda laughs, and says "My goodness, I did hear about it! I always though it was just made up, but it happened to you! I laid with the one of the brothers, Sir Norman... he was a stud, you taugh him very well!" She names the youngest, and Dawn acknowledges the name.

"I think we should tell her about our quest..." you find yourself starting, and Anne and Amanda both nod, your hands joining as you shared the secret "We... we want to lay the fabled Dark Knight". You put it bluntly. Anne picked up after Rebecca stopped " and after him, the Black Mage visculan" and Amanda completed "And Sir Scott Gygora". In truth, there are few brave souls who dare visit Niran, and fewer still that are female and traveling alone, or almost. By mentioning the name you hope to pry from her the truth. Despite her tale, and professed profession, you still found it hard to believe this little doll is such a tantric master.

"But we... dont ask your help without offering you anything in return, Lady Dawn" You raise from your sit, and incline over Dawn, as a rock in the road sends you in her direction. You whisper "Money... power..." There it was... the sparkle. What she really craved was something else. Men and women dream of it, this Dawn can dream a little longer. Her fluttering heart sounds like a humming bird wings, she is so coyously nervous you can swear she is a virgin. "But you dont carve those things... no. What you really carve is..." she smell or roses... but underlying, of tobacco. It is faint, but it is there. You feel her hands sneaking up your skirt, caressing you over your leggings, and you dont mind, still in control. She is yours.

"You smell of sex..." you speak softly, giving pinkish tone to her cheeks "...it is all over you, from the nape of your neck to your whore lips." you sniff the base of her neck, you can almost imagine the broad hunk that serviced this frail girl. "was it a client?" And a cruel edge "or the midget that accompains you?"Scared, her eyes meet yours, and you know you guessed right! By the gods, to think this goddess and that tiny man... it was obs...

You never finish the though, her soft lips mellowing your disgust. Dawn is delicate, feminine... but she is also such a pliant tool in men´s hands, accepting and tolerant. Like an eternal flower, gleaming white, moist with morning dew. Moist like your own wetting cunt. You kiss.

You think of mother. Like Dawn, she was also both strong and pliant. Seductive and acceptive. Image of her begin to flood your senses, but unlike you ever imagined it. She is sitting atop a dark robbed man, his virile body lain down for her pleasure. Your pleasure. You begin to massage your twat over Dawns leg, reliving with your mother this special moment. Dawn´s lips taste so good.

You ride her like your mother did that robbed man, and you can almost feel the hard cock penetrating your mother´s pussy. It feels glorious, to be free and to rule, to have the mightiest stud between your legs and rule him with the pressure of your inner walls. It hurts, and the pain let you know this is real, the pleasure is real, that you feel so complese. The dark robbed man yells curses at you, ****, pestilence. You laugh, feeling the gates of heaven parting. You welcome the little ****, letting it take all your worries and troubles.

But that wasnt the end of it. Your peace is shattered, as you feel you suddenly be tossed away. Before you can react you feel your dress being ripped away, and a sharp edge dangerously menancing your neck. The small quakes still dominate your legs, and a small intrusing bothers your nether hole. A fingertip, prying you open. You try to resist, but Dawn is too strong. Her dry fingers hurt your anus as she pierces you, and even more when she forces a second one. You always hated the mere notion of anal sex, but memories of your mother so gleefully surrendering to the debasement overwhelms your senses, and you order her for more. She obeys, but it isnt enough. It hurts, but it isnt enough. Mommy was violated in heaven´s paradise, you want just the same. You brace yourself and meet each thrust with one of your own. The orgasm batter your legs and spine, but even the earthshattering pleasure wasnt your objective. You keep bucking until you have nothing else to give, no more strength, no more fight. Until your candle sniff out, for good.

Dawn is holding you lovingly, tenderly. Daddy speaks to you through her, this dark robbed, evil man. "our daughter will grow healthy and beautiful." Dawn caress your cheek "the only other woman I will ever love". Her leaning lips never reach you, as you doze off