Kingdoms: Amazonia 12

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Kingdoms: Amazonia 12


Alex Kingston, Anna Popplewell, Marcia Cross, Bridget Regan, Michelle Trachtenberg, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Amanda Bynes, Alexa Vega, Sarah Chalke, Kate Beckinsdale


FF, anal


This is a work of fiction, obviously there is no such place as Amazonia and the celebs doing nasty things in this story probably aren’t doing them in real life, though for all I know they may be having lots of lesbian sex with each other.


“Miss Kingston, how delightful and Lady Anna, I hear congratulations are in order,”
Lady Marcia Cross gave a brief bow to the two women as they examined some dresses.

Alex Kingston turned round and bowed, she hugged Anna Popplewell closer to her and the brunette blushed and smiled at the redhead. Goddess, knew how she had kept secret the fact of their affair for so long. She had expected Bridget Regan to blurt the news out, but the woman had promised Marcia she would keep quiet and had so far kept her word, albeit it had only been a week.

“So what are you doing here?” asked Alex, “A dress for your pretty wife.”

Marcia nodded, “She’s starting to outgrow her current dresses,” she made a gesture to indicate pregnancy, “I thought a nice surprise would cheer her up.”

Anna was impressed how well Marcia had kept their secret from her wife and Anna’s best friend. She wondered if the dress was really a surprise or a guilty present.

“You will be coming to my ennoblement won’t you?” asked Alex.

“Of course,” replied Marcia, “It is always good to welcome fresh blood. I was a commoner myself, something which Lyndsy often overlooks. Anyway I must be going…”

She turned and left. Anna found herself staring at Marcia’s buttocks, Goddess the woman was so sexy. She hoped her feelings were because she had been sex starved before Marcia came along – it was bad enough cheating on her best friend when she had been a widow; it would be unforgivable to do it when she too was married.


The affair had started, as many do, by accident; in this case a literal one. It had been a long day shopping at the market, for Anna Popplewell. Her carriage was laden with her purchases as she headed home in her carriage. Suddenly she had been jolted forward, for a second she feared it was an ambush, like the one Katee Sackhoff had kidnapped her in. But the driver’s reassuring tones still her speeding heartbeat, “Sorry My Lady, looks like a wheel has come off.”

It had more than come off, the axle was almost sheared off. It wasn’t a simple matter of replacing a loose wheel, but an altogether more complex task of putting together a broken axle. Dusk quickly descended into darkness, as Anna had sat in the coach shivering as the driver and guard struggled to get the coach working again. If it hadn’t been so far, she would have walked home, but it was too late for a teenage bottom to wander by herself, so she had waited increasingly impatiently.

That was when Marcia had appeared like a knight in shining armour.

“What’s going on?” Marcia first thought, like Anna’s was that the teenage brunette, had been ambushed. She strode forward her hand on the pommel of her sword.

Anna dismounted from the coach and curtsied, “Lady Marcia, we seem to have had a little accident.”

Marcia relaxed, she knelt down to where the two servants were struggling to repair the axle and gave a grimace. Straightening up she turned back to Anna, “That’s an all night job, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Oh,” said Anna despondently. She hadn’t eaten, she was cold and it was too dark even to get out the romance she had just bought to read.

“It’s a good night for a walk if you would like me to escort you home,” Marcia seemed to have read her thoughts, though they might not be hard to read.

“Yes, please,” Anna turned to the driver and coachwoman giving them instructions to continue with the repairs and once finished bring the coach home. She would give instruction to cook to make sure there was some bread, cheese and hot soup for them when they returned.

The streets were, if not silent, at least less crowded than during the daytime. Sensible people were tucked by the fire eating their evening meals, not walking home. As she thought of food Anna heard her stomach rumble. Marcia cocked an eyebrow, “Have you eaten?”

“No, not yet,” replied Anna.

Marcia stopped by a small side street, “I know a good place to eat” She gestured at a small building, chinks of light came from beneath is shutters and the sound of laughing and ribaldry could be heard within. The redhead smiled at the teen, “It’s probably not your normal eating place, bit down market, but it does a very nice steak and the wine is passable.”

Anna normally wouldn’t have even thought about eating in such a middle class hostelry, but her stomach was starting to ache with hunger. She nodded, “Won’t Lyndsy be expecting you?”

“She and Penny are out with her Mama and Mum this evening and won’t be back until late,” Marcia explained. Without anymore ado she led Anna to the tavern.

After the cold of the night the warmth of the hostelry hit Anna like a blacksmith’s forge. The place was crowded with women eating, drinking and talking. Harassed, but busty, waitresses hurried from table to kitchen or bar, carrying jugs of ale and dishes of meat. The succulent smell made Anna lick her lips with hunger, she followed Marcia as the older woman shouldered her way to a table. Marcia ordered steak and wine for them both. She turned to Anna and smiled, “So how are you?”

“I’m…” Anna paused. The last two months had been hard, she was young for widowhood; highly sexed she had struggled with continual horniness now she wasn’t getting her fill. Goddess it had been so long since she had been alone with a top, never mind one as attractive as Marcia Cross, “a bit lonely truth be told.”

The conversation flowed. Marcia was both a good listener and talker. The meal came and after it they ordered some more wine, and then yet more. It was nearly midnight when they left.

“I know a shortcut,” said Marcia. She turned and headed down a small alleyway. It was almost pitch dark, the crowded buildings casting a shadow so deep that the few stars visible in the cloudy sky could barely illuminate it. Normally Anna would have avoided it, even in bright day, but with Marcia beside her she felt safe. At least safe from footpads and cutpurses; she swore as she tripped over a piece of rotten wood. Before she could fall Marcia had grabbed her, steadying her and pulling her to her feet.

“Thank you,” replied Anna. She could smell Marcia’s perfume – it was alluring, like the scent of a rose garden. She stood on tiptoes and kissed Marcia’s lips lightly. She drew back, surprised at herself as well as the softness of Marcia’s mouth. The redhead’s arm were round Anna’s back, pulling her close again. The teen opened her mouth and met Marcia. There bodies crushed together as they kissed passionately, mouth opening and closely wordlessly, tongues darting against each other. Marcia’s hands caressed at Anna through her dress, soft, gentle, passionate. Anna broke away, this was wrong, she thought, “I…I…”

This time it was Marcia who took the lead, bringing her mouth down on Anna’s and stopping her talking. As her tongue slid into the teen’s, Anna forgot her inhibitions and returned the kiss madly and deeply. She could feel the older woman pressing into her so hard that her tits were squashed back against her body, the slightest movement sent little sparks of pleasure through her as Marcia’s chest pushed against the teen’s erect nipples. Anna’s hands pushed through the two bodies, feeling for the women’s belt buckle. It undid easily, the buttons slightly more difficult. Moving her hands round to the side Anna gripped the top of Marcia’s trousers and pulled them down.

Anna broke the kiss and smiled, “It’s been so long since I ate pussy I’ve almost forgotten.”

There was no reply from Marcia, just a murmur of anticipation as Anna slid down her body, pushing herself into the Milf as she did so. Anna ran her tongue over the quim, it was smooth and succulent, the lips moving as Anna’s pushed them to one side and moved in. She could feel Marcia shaking and groaning as the teen explored her cunt. Anna slowly moved within, savouring the taste of juice that she had been so long denied; it felt good. She paused as she found the clit, the lump of flesh feeling harder against her tongue than the softer flesh that surrounded it. The teen began to concentrate on that, slamming her tongue down and slipping it over the bud. She could taste the juice that Marcia was providing, feeling it slide down her mouth, stimulating her taste buds with its sweet flavour. As she licked Marcia produced more and more girl cum continually moaning, “Yes, baby, yes, baby.”

The redhead’s hands gripped hard at Anna’s shoulders, squeezing the muscle and flesh. Her entire body was shaking as she pushed her pelvis forward into Anna’s face, the leaky cunt flooded with her juice. Anna lapped harder until Marcia squealed in excitement, her hands gripped Anna so harder than for a few seconds Anna almost fear that her shoulders would be dislocated, before Marcia relaxed and let go. Anna stood up, Marcia’s cum dribbling from her lips. The redhead lightly kissed her forehead, “For someone who’s forgotten that was a damn good eat.”

Anna breathed heavily. To eat a woman again after so long was heavenly, “I need you to fuck me,” she breathed. And she meant it, tasting Marcia had made her so horny and out of control she was almost ready to burst, “Oh Goddess, I haven’t a strap-on. Have you? Oh Goddess…”

Marcia shook her head and reached out a hand to stop Anna’s panicking, “I know where we can get one.”

She quickly pulled out her trousers and led Anna back onto the side street. A few minutes later they were at a small sex shop. Marcia opened the door and Anna followed her. The owner looked up and smiled, “What can I get for you ladies?”

The shop normally catered to hookers and their janes; which explained why it was open so late. But it did enough of a trade with the wealthy to ensure it had a stock of good quality strap-ons and other toys. Marcia turned to Anna and gave a small bow, “I’ll let you choose, my treat.”

Anna was so desperate to have her back passage filled that she pointed almost at random to a black eight incher. Marcia handed over a couple of sovereigns, “Keep the change.”

“Do you want it wrapped?” asked the owner as she put the toy on the counter.

Marcia smiled and looked at Anna, before shaking her head at the owner, “That won’t be necessary.”

It took them only a few minutes to find an alleyway far from prying eyes. Anna leant forward, placing her hands on the damp stonework, “Goddess, I need this, I need it bad.”

Marcia didn’t waste time pulling down her trousers, instead she pulled the toy up over them and her boots, standing fully clothed behind Anna. The teen felt her dress being lifted and Marcia’s hands taking firm grip on the naked skin of her waist. Even before she was penetrated she felt her breath coming faster and her heartbeat hammering at her waist, “Oh Goddess, please fuck my ass. Fuck it now!” she gasped.

The tip of the toy touched Anna’s asshole. There was a series of grunts from Marcia as she pushed the toy in. Anna groaned, it felt so good – it had been so long since her asshole had been stretched like that. She gave a whinny of pleasure as the dildo slowly moved up her ass. Marcia began to rock back and forth thrusting away. Anna screamed in pleasure, “Yes, that’s it. Fuck me hard, please fuck me hard.”

Anna didn’t care she was having her back alley fucked in a back alley like a cheap whore. Nor did she care that the person fucking her was her best friend’s wife. All she cared about was the marvellous feelings blossoming inside her. Marcia slammed her deep and hard; it was no wonder Lyndsy was devoted to her, such was her stamina and skill. Anna shrieked again and again, as first one orgasm and then another crowded her feelings into a cataclysm of explosive lust.

That was the first time Anna and Marcia fucked. The next day, Melinda, one of the Queen’s messengers, stood guard whilst Marcia took Anna in one of the castle’s small rooms. A couple of days later they made sweet anal love over the desk in Marcia’s office, only just escaping detection by a guard coming in with a report on increased banditry. The day after that Marcia hired a room at the Blue Pygmy, an upper class bordello, where the two could meet undisturbed. The affair had been going on for weeks; any guilt Anna felt blotted out by the explosive orgasms Marcia gave her.


“Bridget Regan to see you My Lady.”

Lady Marcia Cross looked up from her desk at the messenger. She had been expecting this interview for a few days, ever since a shocked Bridget Regan had hastily retreated from the room Marcia had been buggering Anna Popplewell in. It had rather spoilt the moment, both Marcia and Anna swiftly getting dressed and leaving. Yes, Bridget Regan was not in Marcia’s good books. And given that Lady Marcia Cross was not only captain of the Queen’s Guards, High General of her armies, but also the High Provost, responsible for keeping the peace in the Queen’s realms, being in her bad books was not a good place to be. Especially if you had a claim to the throne and were not fully trusted by the Queen. Marcia stood up and perched on the desk, “Send her in.”

She had wondered about sitting behind it, but had decided that sitting on the desk towering over Bridget not only gave her the position of power, but its informality would show she thought little of the younger woman. Bridget opened the door and glanced around. Marcia swung a foot out and touched a chair, “Sit,” she ordered, “I’ve been expecting this visit.”

Bridget smiled as Marcia poured some wine into a goblet. Her smile didn’t falter as instead of offering it to her Marcia raised it to her own lips and sipped it. Her eyes met Bridget’s, firm and steely.

“Marcia…” began Bridget.

Marcia cross held up her hands to silence her, “Let me speak first,” her voice was as hard as her eyes, “Firstly you will call be Lady Marcia, or even better, Lady Cross. You may be the Queen’s aunt, but you’re a by-blow mothered by a whore. You are not my equal, you are not even close.” Bridget flinched, the reference to her maternity was brutal. Marcia smiled thinly, “Secondly, do not think you can blackmail me. One word from me and you’ll find yourself in the dungeons, where you can scream your poison all you want and no-one will hear… except the torturers. Thirdly,” Marcia paused and reached forward, taking Bridget’s chin between two fingers and gently twisted the younger woman’s head so she was looking at her, “remember what I’ve said.”

She let go off Bridget’s face and the twentysomething snapped her head back scowling. For a second that ugly look distorted her features, before she forced it back to her more normal countenance of charming smiles, “Actually Lady Cross; it had not crossed my mind to say anything about your… our meeting. I have come to ask you for your help.”

Marcia laughed, the woman had charm and nerve she would give her that. This ought to be good, she decided, “Go on.”

“Lady Cross we are women of the world, are we not,” Bridget tried to look serious, a skill which was beyond her.

“Perhaps,” mused Marcia, she pursed her fingers together unwilling to commit to even agreeing with that until she saw where the younger woman was leading.

“There is a young lady of my acquaintance…” said Bridget.

“A hooker,” interrupted Marcia, some cheap slut who had got her claws into Bridget who the young woman wanted to be rid off.

To her surprise, Bridget actually looked insulted, “Not at all.”

Marcia silently cursed her interruption, a moment of stupidity. She nodded, aware that a slight shift of power had taken place, not much of course. She waved her hand, “Go on.”

“The young lady is off high station and she refuses to give up her virginity, certainly without marriage,” Bridget sighed, “Now in twenty years I might be ready to settle down with a young and attractive bottom, but not now. I’m too young myself.”

Despite herself Marcia was intrigued. It was still certainly some type of blackmail, she was not the person people usually sought for personal advice, “And who is this Lady?”

“Sarah Michelle Gellar,” replied Bridget.

The women had taste as well as charm and nerve, Marcia decided. The Queen’s Lady-in-Waiting was attractive, with a body that suggested she would be most enjoyable in bed. Marcia took another sip of her wine and asked with eyebrows raised “And how can I help?”

“You…er, know Anna Popplewell, who is friends with Sarah. I am sure you can persuade Anna to persuade Sarah that marriage is overrated,” Bridget followed her sentence up with her most charming smile.

Marcia pursed her fingers together. So it was blackmail, albeit of the most subtle kind. For some reason she didn’t feel anger. Bridget reminded her of herself twenty years ago, when she too was young and on the make. Even so, “Regrettably I must decline. However…” she paused and gave Bridget a thin warning smile, “I will ignore this conversation and let you keep your fingers.”

There was a shrug from Bridget, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” She stood up.

Marcia nodded and despite herself gave a smile of encouragement, “My advice Bridget, make a choice, spinsterdom or Sarah; it seems you cannot have both.”


“Michelle Trachtenberg, your Majesty,” Sarah Michelle Gellar announced.

Queen Amanda Bynes looked up from the treatise she was reading on siege warfare, she would have found it more useful if there hadn’t been the nagging knowledge it’s writer had died trying to besiege Dencam Castle forty years before hand. The young Queen slammed the book shut and placed it on the table beside her, “Send her in.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” replied Sarah, Amanda wondered if there was a slight sniff of disapproval in the eighteen year oldie’s voice, after all Michelle was her step-sister and it wasn’t right that she should be alone without a chaperone.

Michelle Trachtenberg came in, with a brief cheeky smile at her sister, who suppressed a scowl, and curtsey for a Queen. She was holding a small half-completed tapestry, “Your Majesty, wished to see my embroidery?” she said, the voice laden with promise, after all whilst Amanda wished to see something it was very seldom called embroidery.

The Queen nodded, before turning to her Lady-in-Waiting, “Thank you, Sarah. That will be all.”

There was a pause, Sarah flashed meaningful eyes at her sister, before she forced herself to smile and curtsey at the Queen, “Off course, your Majesty.”

The door had barely closed before her, before Michelle had dropped her embroidery and was in Amanda’s arms. The Queen kissed her passionately, pulling the sixteen-year old bottom tightly into her body. For a few moments they remained like that, their lips locked and their tongues probing inside each other. Slowly Amanda disengaged before she ran out of air. She smiled, temporarily pausing as Michelle gave a pout.

“Have I displeased your Majesty?” the teen asked.

“No, why?” Amanda was taken aback, she thought the kiss had been a sign of her continuing affection; she nervously wondered if she hadn’t used enough tongue or too much perhaps.

“It has been a week since you wanted to see how I was doing with my tapestry, I’ve completed both a lion and a unicorn,” Michelle continued to pout, it was devastatingly attractive Amanda decided, it made her face pucker up most sexily.

“I have been a bit busy ruling a Kingdom. And there is a war on,” said Amanda reasonably. She put one arm round the waist of the teen and pulled her close again, “Anyway we have your reputation to think off, people will talk.”

“They won’t find anything to say,” Michelle pouted again allowing Amanda to undo her dress and free her titties, “I’m still a virgin.”

“Well yes,” admitted Amanda. It was true; though they’d done a lot else. Amanda squeezed the two naked tits in front of her, they were larger than average, especially as at sixteen Michelle still had a little way to grow, but firm. The teen giggled, the pout falling from her face as quickly as it had arrived.

“Mmnnn, that’s nice,” Michelle murmured as the twentysomething gripped at her breasts, pushing them together and pulling them apart.

“As nice as this,” Amanda bent her head down and took a nipple gently between her teeth, lightly nipping at the nub. She let go and slid her lips round it, playing her tongue over until it was damp.

“That’s nice too,” conceded Michelle in a satisfied voice. Amanda stepped back and pulled down the teen’s dress. Michelle smiled as the Queen admired her body, smooth and supple, with only the faintest trace of pussy stubble. Amanda reached down and slid a thumb over the teen’s pussy lips. Michelle giggled and quivered, but retained enough self control to say, “No more than one finger in, remember.”

Inwardly cursing the religious rules that said virginity was taken by two or more fingers or a toy, Amanda slid her middle finger into the hole. A feeling of moist warmth greeted it, but what, to Amanda’s mind, was more important was the little squeak of pleasure the brunette gave as the finger moved up her. Amanda grinned, on second thoughts, she decided the priestesses gave just enough latitude, “You seem a bit wet Lady Michelle,” she smiled, “I’ll have to wipe away that liquid.”

Her thumb flicked at the pussy lips again, rubbing away the dribble of cum leaking from the teen’s cunt. Michelle moaned and pointed out accurately, “That’ll just make me wetter.”

The Queen just grinned and pushed her finger deeper. Michelle gasped and threw her head back, her body rapidly stiffening and relaxing as Amanda jabbed at her clit. The teen gripped her tits and pushed them together as she uttered small squeaks like a mouse after cheese. Amanda savoured the look on her face as she slammed her finger back and forth, lubricated by the teen’s twat juice. With each thrust she hit the clit, and it was obvious from the look of rapture on the teen’s face that she was enjoying. Probably enjoying it so much Amanda could have slid in a second finger; it took all her self control to keep Michelle’s honour intact. There was a louder squeak from Michelle, “Aaaaarrggghh, oooohhhh Godddesssss…. I…I… aaaarrggghhh.”

Amanda pulled out her finger and licked it clean as Michelle collapsed on one of the chairs. For a few seconds the teen breathed deeply, as her face moved from red to its more natural paler pink. She looked up at the Queen and licked her lips, “Does your Majesty want to cum?”

Amanda put on her regal face, “At once subject,” she said haughtily, before spoiling the impact by giggling inanely.

Michelle stood up and gave a deeper curtsey than she normally did, “At once your Majesty,” she said in a suitably meek voice, albeit tinged with lust.

Reaching forward she undid Amanda’s trousers. Amanda stepped out of them and lay down on a rug next to the burning fire. She opened her legs and ran a finger over her smooth slit, putting a finger on each of her lips she eased open her hole. Michelle snuggled her face between her Queen’s thighs and gently pushed her tongue in. The teen slid round Amanda’s cunt, rolling her tongue against the warm walls; her saliva mixing with the Queen’s cum. Gradually she moved further in, until her face was touching the Queen’s pelvis and her tongue was deeply and rapidly engaging the Queen’s clit. Amanda gasped as the warm feelings flowed through her, each lap sent electrical messages surging to her brain, where, quick as lightning, they were transformed into jolts of pleasure. She struggled into a part sitting position, resting on one of her elbows, whilst with the other hand she caressed the teen’s head. Michelle didn’t seem to need the encouragement, her tongue was racking up the notches on Amanda’s clit like a hooker’s conquests on a bed post.

“Yessss, yesss, yesss,” Amanda groaned, the warm feelings were getting more intense; she was aware her skin was like fire, red and hot. Michelle’s tongue was no longer fast enough to pick up the juice, Amanda could feel its warmth trickling against her skin as it seeped out of her cunt. An explosion ripped through her, a cataclysm of pleasure, a myriad of joy, “Aaaaaarggghhh,” she couldn’t speak, only shriek.

For a few seconds Michelle continued to lick, savouring the cum and ensuring the Queen had come off. Only when she was satisfied the Queen’s orgasm needed no more encouragement, did she break and move her cummy lips to press against the Queen’s mouth. Amanda returned the kiss, tasting her only pussy juice. It wasn’t sweet, like Michelle’s, she worried, but the teen didn’t seem to care as she busily pushed herself into the Queen’s mouth, whistle grinding her naked tits against Amanda’s shirt.

“Wow,” Amanda broke the kiss, “You were amazing.”

Michelle gave a look of false modesty, before conceding “Well… I had something tasty to work with.”

“I needed it,” said Amanda. She got up and walked over to the window, looking out over St Stow. Beneath, her people laboured on their daily tasks, unaware their Queen was looking down at them.

“Your trousers and slippers,” Michelle was back in her dress, she handed Amanda the items and smiled.

Amanda took them and looked out off the window, water from an icicle dripped onto the outside sill. There was a thaw in the air, soon it would be spring and then it would be war again.


It was amazing that a sheet could be so thin without being transparent, though in some places it was so frayed that it was. Alexa Vega tried to pull it closer over her shivering body, but all that did was expose her naked feet to the cool night air. Even huddled in a ball, she couldn’t get warm. It was a long way from her upbringing where a maid would stoke the fire before she went to bed and the blankets were both soft and luxurious, as well as being cleaned regularly.

She closed her eyes and slowly drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. Only to be awakened by the door crashing open as two armoured guards invade the closet of her room. The nearest one stooped, due to the low ceiling, prodded her with the butt of her polearm, “You, come with us.”

Alexa struggled out of bed and reached for her dress. The second guard, smaller and able to stand upright sniggered, “You won’t need that,” she snatched it away.

Her comrade snatched it back and threw the tatty garment back to Alexa, “Hurry!”

Alexa pulled the dress over her head and slid her feet into the leather shoes beside her best, whilst the second guard snarled and the first looked bored. Alexa stood up, and tried to give a charming smile, “Ready…”

It didn’t work, neither guard’s demeanour changed. Instead they gripped her by her arms, one painfully, the other less so, but still firm and escorted from the room. It didn’t take long for Alexa to work out where they were going. As they climbed up from the bowels of the castle Alexa saw that they were heading to Amy’s and Sarah’s private chambers, which had once been hers and Lady Cybil’s – if only for an all to brief while.

The second guard rapped metal gauntlets against the wood. There was a pause and then a languid voice called out, “Come in.”

The accent was Amazonian. Alexa shivered. The guards opened the door and pushed Alexa in before them. Sarah Chalke reclined on the large double bed, wearing a translucent night-dress; a fierce fire burnt in the fireplace, sending out waves of comforting heat. She gave a thin smile towards Alexa and the teen shivered again. Sarah drew herself up and her eyes flicked to the corner, a wooden frame with ropes dangling down; “Tie her up,” she gave a small flick of her wrists towards the guards.

“Come,” the first gripped Alexa again. The second said nothing, just smirked and pulled Alexa forward. Expertedly they tied the teen to the frame so that she either had to dangle or stand on tip-toe, both were painful. Sarah stood up and sipped a goblet of mulled wine, steam flitted into the air as she drank. She disappeared from view and when she reappeared she was holding a whip. Seconds later Alexa could feel a hand grip the top of her dress; the thin material ripped easily.

“How pale you are,” murmured Sarah leaning into Alexa’s ear. The leather of the whip brushed against the teen’s skin, she shuddered in fear.

Sarah moved away. There was a pause and then a crack. Alexa screamed as the whip cord snapped against her…


Anna Popplewell screamed; high pitched and drawn out. As it subsided she replaced it with a series of pleasurable gasps. Her large naked tits bounce beneath her, there movements in time with the shudders of the bed she was on, “Fuck me harder, oh Goddess, fuck my ass,” she squealed.

Behind her Marcia Cross mumbled something; she was already pummelling the teen’s back passage as hard and fast as she could. Sweat poured down the older woman’s naked body, sliding down her skin and onto the strap-on. She gripped Anna’s sides and hammered away.

It was, Anna felt, like her ass was on fire, though in a good way. She could feel the toy stretching her out and rushing against her walls, pressing against her g-spot and sending waves of pleasure through her like a storm battering a port. She gripped the bed head harder; her hands covered with sweat slipped down the polished wood. She breathed heavily, trying to control the pleasure boiling within her. It didn’t work – the orgasm blew up like a volcano, “Aaaarrrrgggghhhh, yessssssss, Goddessssssss,” the teen screamed.

Marcia collapsed onto her back, Anna spooned into her, resting her chin on the redhead’s tits. She gently kissed at the nipples and Marcia ruffled her hair. They lay like that for a few minutes. The hearth fire of the rented room, bathing them in a dull heat making clothing or bedding to cover them unnecessary. Eventually Anna spoke, “I don’t want to get married.”

Marcia sighed; she had suspected as much. It was the first time the teen had said it, but there had been little hints and pouts whenever Alex Kingston’s named was mentioned. Marcia twisted round slightly and reached up under Anna’s chin, so that she could directly into the teen’s face, “You have to, the Queen’s ordered it.”

For a second Anna looked like she was going to cry, so distraught did she look, “But I like being with you.”

Marcia almost laughed, so that was the problem, well it was easily solved, “That doesn’t have to stop.”

Anna looked confused, her brow creasing as she tried to think, “But I’ll be married.”

This time Marcia did laugh, though she cushioned the blow by then leaning forward and kissing the tip of Anna’s nose, “Don’t be naïve. You won’t be the first married bottom who has a lover.”

“Oh,” Anna smiled and repeated the exclamation, before snuggling into her lover.


Cool hands caressed Alexa Vega’s back. She had thought any touch on the broken and bruised skin would be painful, which was why she was lying on her front. But it wasn’t the hands were soft and soothing. The teen wondered if she had fallen asleep, she had not heard anyone enter the room. But no the agony which wracked her body reminded her she was awake.

“Who did this?” it was Kate Beckinsdale’s voice. It was soft and quiet, full of sympathy.

“Sarah Chalke,” sobbed Alexa. Kate said nothing she just continued to rub at Alexa’s back until the pain had gone away and the teen drifted into sleep.


It was darkening rapidly. Sarah Chalke urged on her horse; her quick pre-dinner ride had taken longer than she thought and if she didn’t hurry all the food would be gone. She smiled, she needed her strength for the whipping she was going to give that aristo bitch tonight. All her life haughty and wealthy ladies had been using Sarah, taking what they could get and treating her like she was pond life. It felt good to be able to do to one of them what they had spent their entire lives doing to her.

“Lady Chalke,” a figure stepped out of the bushes and Sarah’s horse automatically stopped. Sarah felt a stab of fear, a footpad or a deserter.

The figure dropped her hood. It was Kate Beckinsdale. Even in the dark Sarah could see the woman’s white teeth. She dismounted, unsure what to call her, before settling on “Miss Beckinsdale.”

“A nice night for a ride,” Kate smiled. Amy feared her and sometimes when they were cuddled in bed she called her evil incarnate. But there was nothing about her that suggested devilry to Sarah. In fact the woman oozed attractiveness. Sarah felt her pussy begin to tingle as Kate leant forward.

Their lips met.


The pale dead face of Sarah Chalke shone in the moonlight. Her expression was blissful. Kate buckled her belt and lent down. She easily picked up the corpse, slinging it over her shoulder like it was a sack of potatoes. Striding through the wood, she stopped beside a river.

Without a pause she dropped Sarah’s body in. It fell with a splash. Kate stepped away from the edge and watched the corpse float downstream.


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