Lady Canterly's Castle

Lady Isabo Canterly entered the castle walls of her new home with an excited skip to her step. Since her husband had died some months back, leaving her a widow at 22, she couldn't be happier.

Her father arranged her marriage to the much older Lord Canterly. In exchange, his rather large gambling debt was forgotten. Her husband and Lord had introduced her to the world of sex by roughly shoving his aged cock into her womanhood four times before collapsing on her with a grunt. She had cried herself to sleep that night, vowing that she would have a real lover to satisfy her girlhood fantasies.

She had lived up to that vow with every servant and stable hand that had been willing to fill her with his rod, and in every way imaginable. In the end, after four years, that was what had killed the old rotter. He'd found her with the stable hand in her pussy, the cook in her ass, and the man servant in her mouth. Lord Canterly had clutched his chest and fallen to his knees as she drained all three men dry. They'd fixed him up nice to look like he had died in his sleep. Isabo had inherited everything, rewarding them generously. Among that inheritance was this small, old castle.

Isabo had come nearly alone leaving even most of her attendants back at the manor. Only Grayson her father's accountant, had come to assess the property. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought of the prudish old man. No fun there at all. She was certain that his tastes ran to little boys anyway. She smiled again entering the great hall. She sneezed into a linen ahndkerchief as her skirts stirred up the dust, hearing it echo around her. She would have many a party in this place. Yes, it was a bit drafty but she would deck it in furs and velvets, lighting dancing fires inside the huge fireplaces. The thoughts of her guests swirling about the room and playing in dark corners titillated her imagination and she spun with arms outstretched like a child with glee.

"Ahem!" Grayson's voice bounced off the stone walls chastening her even before she looked at him. She blushed but then indignation took place of the embarrassment. She stiffened her spine and returned his look. He gazed passed her and then spoke.

"I will continue my assessment in the morning Lady Canterly."

"That will be fine, Grayson I'm sure you are eager to finish. I'll see you tomorrow then." Isabo smiled without warmth. She brushed past him, skirts rustling. "Use any room you wish."

Isabo was going to explore every nook and cranny of her new home. She passed quickly through the kitchens and the outer rooms each plain in block like rows. She soon found herself in the base of the northeastern tower it's stairs curving away into the darkness of the floors above her. She lit the candle she found on a hallway table and followed them up. The floor above opened into a library, dusty from disuse but she could see great possibilities. It wasn't until she reached the fifth and final story that she stopped. The room here was a bedchamber. A large canopied feather four-poster loomed in the center of the room.

She pulled back the draping fabric and smiled deeply at the dark wood noticing that there were drawers for storage fixed below the bed. A unique piece indeed. Curiosity had her on her knees and pulling at their handles. They all appeared to have linens for the bed stored in them, plain cottons both thick and thin as well as fancier sheets made of silks. She fingered the last pulling them slightly out of the drawer.

She shivered suddenly feeling as though something had drawn a line of fire up her thigh beneath her skirts. Then she was distracted by a knock against the back of the drawer and she reached in pulling out something firm.

Isabo looked down at it. A rod of carved wood the same color as the bed frame. Someone had taken great care in it's carving, shaping it down to the very veins of the man who's cock it was modeled after. It was nearly nine inches in length and three inches in diameter. Surely not a man but a beast! It had been varnished and felt like her uncle's violin beneath her fingers, satiny and smooth. She caressed it thinking about how many pussies it might have dipped into in its lifetime. The thought sent shivers down her spine and the thing seemed to squirm in her hand it was so lifelike. A familiar tingle began in her pussy.