Merthin, but younger and romantic

As Christine lay on her back, she tried to imagine Merthin as a suitor. In her girlish fancy the man was no longer grey-haired and his belly was flat and hard. She'd watch from behind a curtain while Merthin and her father came to an understanding and then she heard the words she both dreaded and anticipated from her father.

"Go find her then young man, and if you can woo her to your bed, she will be yours." The scene shifted to the forest, and a small grassy glade on the bank of a river. Kneeling by her side was Merthin again, this time wearing greens and browns of the hunt and with a boar spear in his hand. He looked a little like the Verderer, but in her heart she knew that it was the notary that had saved her from the hole.

"You will lose the hunt and your quarry, Master Merthin." Christine spoke from a quilted blanket laid out on the grassy bank, "if you do not ride on now, you will miss the chance to impale the prize on your spear."

"You have mistaken my intentions, Lady Gerard, if you believe I hunt for wild pig." It was a scene Christine remembered reading from a romance she found amongst her brother's books. At the time she found the hero to be both dashing and charming and she could easily picture herself allowing the handsome suitor to claim her there by the banks of the slow-moving river. Her fingers by now had found the slick opening between her legs and she tried to imagine Merthin laying her on her back and slowly pushing her skirts up over her hips.

Again, as her self-pleasure ticked up a notch, her ethereal imagination twisted from the woodland scenario to the next vibrant image. This time, Christine found herself chained the edge of the sea wearing nothing but the sheerest and scantiest of shifts. Already the water has risen to her waist, but drowning was the least of her worries.

Before her, and a monster twice the size of a normal man with scales on his body and tail climbed from the waves his phallus already fully erect and easily as long and thick as her arm. Christine immediately recognized the scene from ancient Mythology, but where was Perseus the hero that would save her? The monster's face was made even more fearsome by a scar that cut through the green scales of his muzzle and the beast's eyes glowed red like hot coals in the night.

She cried out when in her imagination, the monster tore away her last bit of clothing and began to grope at her naked body. One hand continued to finger her sex while the other twisted fiercely at her nipple making her jerk and thrash against the bedding. She pressed her thighs tightly together as she fought this imaginary monster. To her surprise the combination of pain and pleasure made this wild ride unlike any other. Just when she thought she'd be impaled by that impossibly large phallus the monster's scarred face shifted again and she realized that it was now Merthin who was pressing his gigantic manhood against her virgin sex.

"This is going to hurt, my dear."

"No!" Christine no longer tried to keep her voice in check. "Please! Have pity, Master Merthin." Christine's hips bucked wildly against her fingers, and she knew that at any moment the last of her reserves would be overwhelmed and the pleasure she was seeking would combust into wild flames.

There was no mercy. Christine's hips lifted off the mattress as wave after wave of pleasure swept over her and she cried out in imagined surrender. If her first time with Merthin felt this good, she might not even regret this bargain she had committed herself to. Only as she collapsed back onto the bed did she realize how loud she had been in her climax.