Percival's tale

Charlotte retrieved the book of Arthurian legends from it's hiding place inside the cover of a German text near the bottom shelf of her bookcase. The book contained several different tales culminating in Guinevere's passionate betrayal of Arthur. But she flipped to the fourth chapter, more than any of the others it reminded her of her encounter by the brook.

The tale was of a penniless young gentleman named Percival who longed to be a knight of the round table. He came to the court determined to prove his worth as a squire, but not one of the knights would have him. Finally King Arthur assigned him to serve as a groomsman to the wild and proud Lady Katherine. Every day he'd saddle the fair maiden's palfrey and then follow her as she rode alone into the woodlands. His steed though was no fine hunter or courier, Percival was given a mule to ride when he followed his mistress.

This Lady Katherine delighted in tormenting this impoverished young man who tried to always be noble. She would sprint ahead on her smooth stepping horse and then laugh at him as he urged on his stubborn mount after her. She teased him in other ways too, lifting her skirt to flash her ankle at him when she mounted her horse. And then deliberately pressing her body against his each time he helped her dismount, sliding her breasts against his chest making his cock stiffen painfully in his woolen pants. Lady Katherine would even mock him about the 'knight's sword' that he kept hidden in his leggings. No matter how often she teased him Percival remained a loyal and trustworthy groomsman.

Charlotte could not imagine teasing any man so wickedly certainly not a man like Randolph Fuller. She recalled the rage that lay just beneath the surface as he spoke to her this afternoon. Someone like him would not be so restrained. Her breathing quickened as she remembered the feel of her soft body pressed against his hard chest, and she returned to the book marveling at how daring Lady Katherine was in her determined effort to break Percival's perfect control.

She skimmed quickly over the pages where Katherine took her steadfast groomsman with to a secluded pool deep in the forest. She insisted that he watch over her while she stood waist deep in the water; careful to face away from him so he saw nothing but her smooth back and shoulders as she splashed water onto her fair skin. When even that no longer amused her the proud lady ordered him to bring her a brush making him wade into the pool behind her and then work the brush through her golden tresses as she stood naked just inches from his strong hands.

Charlotte recalled how close she had come to taking off her undergarments and wading into the stream to fetch Copper. She wondered how different it might have felt to be pressed to the grass with bare legs under her skirts. Would he have taken advantage of her **** condition? Blushing fiercely Charlotte returned to the tale.

Each time Percival resisted her charms Katherine became angrier with her gallant attendant. She rode further and further ahead of him each venture into the forest and it was not long before she rode into the arms of the Black Knight of Chester Crossing. By the time Percival and his stumbling mule reached her she had been stripped of all her clothing but her innermost shift and staked spread eagle onto the grassy bank of a brook. That could easily have been Charlotte's fate had Black Brand lived up to his fearsome reputation.

Suddenly Charlotte's long cotton nightgown was far too hot and constricting. Working quickly she pulled the gown over her head and lay naked under the covers spreading her legs wide, imagining how **** Lady Katherine must have felt. Charlotte returned to the story, eager now to reach its climax.

The Black Knight roared with laughter when he saw Lady Katherine's defender riding a country mule and wearing a discarded helmet and shield from one of the fallen knights. For a lance Percival found a fence railing from a neighboring pasture. This bumpkin was challenging him!

Charlotte wondered what it would be like to have two men fighting over her like she was a prize to be claimed. She pictured Randolph Fuller challenged by Jace Worthington, but it was unclear in her mind who it was that played the role of villain and who was the savior. Pushing aside her confusion she returned to the story of Percival and Lady Katherine.

The Black Knight agreed to Percival's challenge with a roar of laughter, informing the young man of the terms of the joust. The winner of the duel would deflower the maid, ravaging her bound body mercilessly until she submitted. The Black Knight informed him that the only reason he had not already ravaged Lady Katherine's bound body was that he was waiting for his brothers the Red and Gold Knights to join him in his total conquest of the maiden. Charlotte lay down the book and used both her hands to roughly explore her body imagining that it was three different men twisting her nipples cruelly, boldly stroking her thighs and cupping her ass all at the same time. She didn't bother to pick up the book to read, she had read these pages so often she had it nearly memorized.

The joust ended swiftly; even with his poor equipment and riding a mule, Percival was able to unseat his foe, breaking the Black Night's neck in the fall to the ground. Charlotte's hands slipped between her legs imagining the proud lady's fate as Percival knelt between her spread thighs. She was the bound Lady Katherine now, begging her rescuer to free her, but secretly knowing that she deserved this punishment. And Fuller was the groomsman, touching her in ways that made her writhe between the sheets of her bed. She picked up the book reading once again.

Percival of course refused to free Katherine instead his hands roamed freely over her helpless body, exploring the softness of her breasts and inner thighs. He reminded the Lady of how she had teased him at every opportunity and that he had won this right to claim her body by honorable combat. He used his fingers to stroke her womanhood until she screamed in a wild orgasm. As if in response to her passionate cries Percival heard a distant bugle sound. Katherine begged him to free her so they could hide together in the forest promising to freely submit her maidenhead to him if he agreed to flee with her. Instead Percival left her staked to the ground and dressed himself rapidly in the Black Knight's armor.

Charlotte could imagine Katherine's fear, what if this time Percival was unhorsed and this complete stranger, the Red Knight, was the one to ravish her awakened womanhood? Her fingers stroked a little bit faster as she skimmed the next two pages.

The Red Knight appeared leading a scantily clad red-head in chains by his side. Unlike the wild Lady Katherine, this false knight's petite captive was a demure highland duchess as innocent and pure as could be. When Percival challenged him the terms were soon agreed upon. The red-haired duchess was staked on the grassy bank next to Lady Katherine and the winner of the joust would claim both their maidenheads.

This second bout lasted longer, neither man able to unseat the other, but when they turned to swords Percival beat the Red Knight to the ground killing him with a mighty blow to his neck. Again Percival returned to the captives exploring their soft bodies; this time he used his mouth on the two bound beauties licking and sucking on their pink clits until one after the other they cried out in sweet surrender. Charlotte could only imagine what that must feel like; a warm tongue stroking that same hard little nub that her fingers were teasing.

She tried to imagine the feeling of a man's tongue coaxing her closer and closer to another climax but then just when she was at the point of surrender, switching to the other woman spread out so close that their feet could touch while she writhed in **** need. Charlotte returned to the book to read about the Gold Knight's arrival with his prize, a petite raven-haired princess from Wales even purer than the Highland duchess. Like the two other virgins before her, the princess was staked out on the bank. The winner of this final dual to the **** would have all three of the maidens to ravish.

Charlotte understood that the book was written for a male reader, the image of three virgins - a blonde, a redhead and a raven haired beauty - all staked spread wide seemed designed to appeal to the male ego, but she didn't care. She pictured what it would be like to be any one of the three captives, bound helplessly waiting to see which man was stronger and more worthy to claim her. She skipped over the lengthy fight scene to the end when Percival climbed victorious from the waters of the brook, stripping off his armour as he approached the three captives.

The first time she had read this tale she imagined that the chivalrous Percival would free the three maidens, perhaps then choosing which of the women he would claim as his true love. She had been shocked to read that Percival took all three of the spread-eagled prizes.

This lack of honour was just how she imagined an outlaw like Black Brand might act, but by now she didn't care. Charlotte could easily imagine a man like him taking whomever he wanted whenever he chose. If Beatrice, Priscilla and herself were all captured and bound helplessly like the maidens in the tale, would that bold highwayman have violated each of them in turn as Percival did in the story? Charlotte slipped her fingers carefully into her sex three different times as the book described Percival's multiple conquests.

First Percival claimed Katherine, filling her tight sex with the 'sword' she had repeatedly mocked. He took her slowly, prolonging the moment and his pleasure, and by the time the would-be knight was done punishing her for her teasing and filled her with his seed, Katherine would never mock him again. When Percival finally withdrew his member from within her bloodied sheath he had conquered his former mistress in more ways than one. Even as the once prideful Lady of Camelot proclaimed her undying love for him, Percival moved on to where the lithe red-haired duchess lay squirming helplessly in a futile effort to free herself.

Percival was less patient with the struggling duchess and she cried out in pain as he claimed her with a mighty thrust that tore through her maidenhead. Charlotte wondered if she'd respond that way when a man (Randy Fuller pressing her to the ground by the brook popped wickedly into her imagination) claimed her as his. Of course by the time Percival discharged his seed into the moaning duchess she was no longer fighting him, instead the sweet-limbed highlander arched up to meet each of his mighty thrusts until she exploded on young Percival's mighty rod. Still shaking from a tremendous climax, the duchess begged him to have her again, but to no avail.

Finally Charlotte imagined that she was the raven haired princess, cut free from her bounds so she could revive Percival's strength. First tentatively with her soft hands and then as she gained confidence, using her mouth to shyly suck the hero's manhood back to its full size and strength. The chaste princess straddled her savior and slowly lowered herself onto his lance offering her virginity willingly to this man she just met. The final image of Randolph Fuller's manhood rising into her belly sent Charlotte over the edge. A long clear moan of passion escaped her lips as the biggest orgasm she had ever experienced shook her body. Her thighs trembled and breasts still heaved violently under the thin sheet as she recalled the last line of Percival's tale with a smile.

It was this conquest of three noble virgins in less than one hour even more than the defeat of the three rogue knights that finally won Sir Percival his Knighthood at King Arthur's court.

Only after the last tremor subsided, did she remember how loud she had been and waited anxiously to see if anyone had heard her cry out.